*Thanks, Clicky… /pats snout… I’ll format the story and you go get a Song for the end…*
“Okay, Thom?” Jess placed on her hands on Thom’s shoulders, and gave them a friendly squeeze. “You still want to do this?” she asked him, addressing the brightly lit mirror before them.
Thom studied the reflection of the woman standing behind him. With silver hair, thickly plaited, and intricate henna designs adorning both her arms from wrists to biceps, Jess was an odd mixture of old and young. He nodded slowly before leaning his head back, to look up directly into her wrinkled face and sparkling eyes. “Yes. Let’s do it.”
“Alright then,” Jess said with a smile. She pushed Thom’s head forward playfully, and looked down at the shaved skin she’d created near the crown of his head. She tenderly caressed it’s smoothness with her gloved fingertips before swooping down to lightly kiss it.
“Hey, is that part of the ritual?” Thom asked. “Doesn’t seem very hygienic.”
“Yes and no, it’s not.” Jess took the bottle of Povidone-Iodine from the trolley beside her and quickly swabbed the pale patch on Thom’s head, turning it umber. “But this stuff tastes disgusting.”
Thom’s reflection stared hard at her from the mirror.
“Seriously, Thom. Dis. Gus. Sting.” Jess laughed jovially. “Trust me, I’ve kissed all the ones I’ve done before,” she said with a shrug. “They all turned out okay. Please, grant me a little superstition. It is Halloween.”
“Okay, Jess. I trust you,” Thom replied. He watched her pick up a scalpel, but his eyes lingered on the electric drill that lay passively on top of the trolley.
“Thank you.” Jess placed the scalpel blade against the orange patch of skin beneath her gaze. “Now, this may hurt.”
Thom’s hands tightened their grip on the armrests of his chair, hidden beneath the heavy, flowing cape that Jess had made him wear. “No problem.”
***
Thom Lusher’s headache had been with him for as long as he could remember. It had taken up residence in his skull during childhood, whilst Thom watched his mother die of cancer, and squatted on throughout adolescence, as Thom’s father attempted to drown himself in vodka. The nagging, low throb was a constant in an otherwise unreliable world. It was something Thom could rely on, even consider a friend.
The headache had once come to his rescue, when Thom’s PE teacher had attempted to get handsy down his gym shorts. It had immediately flared into a raging, sparking tempest, forcing the contents of Thom’s stomach out of his mouth and down the front of his fumbling teacher, revealing the damp outline of a sad erection. Yes, the headache hurt Thom, but not nearly as much as the world did.
The only time the headache disappeared completely was when Thom dreamed ‘the floating dream’. He’d be in the thick of a situation, when, suddenly, his feet would leave the ground and he would start to rise. As he looked down, observing the action below, Thom would be acutely aware that he was steadily floating higher, and that his headache was gone. Levitating upward in a world made of sky, Thom felt serene and pain-free. Until he bumped up against the hard, dark arc of space above, at which point Thom would wake to reality and a fierce ache in his head.
The headache was part of Thom’s life and he’d steeled himself to the fact that it always would be. Until he met Jess, that is. She was the hippy, dippy proprietress of ‘Curl Up And Dye’, a hair salon on the edge of town. They’d got talking at a shared smoking table, outside Starbucks on the High Street. Little did Thom know then how Jess would change his life forever.
***
“Go anywhere nice on holiday this year?” Jess asked, as she started to peel back the flaps of skin she’d incised with the scalpel, to expose Thom’s skull.
“What?” Thom asked incredulously.
Jess was concentrating hard on the wound she’d inflicted, but stole a glance at Thom’s reflection. “I’m sorry. Force of habit,” she replied sheepishly. “Day job.”
Thom smiled ruefully at her via the mirror and resisted the temptation to shake his head. “Not this year. You?”
Jess had resumed scraping back the skin. “I like to spend November in Thailand. I leave tomorrow. You’re lucky we met and I could fit you in.”
Thom didn’t know if he should feel lucky or whether he’d gone completely mad. He’d only met Jess by chance earlier that day and now here he was, sitting alone in her dark and empty hair salon, completely at her mercy. The yammering pain in his head reminded him that he’d not exactly been blessed with luck in his life so far, but Jess had given him hope that somehow this could change.
“Have you done many of these?” Thom asked, to cover the sounds of faint scratching that filled the silence.
“More and more this year since Bore-Heading became a thing again. Of course I did mine back in the Seventies.”
“You did it on yourself?”
“Yes, for the purpose of enlightenment, not to follow some silly rock star like the kids do today.”
Thom frowned; that wasn’t why he was there but considered it ill advised to argue given his present situation. “And were you enlightened?”
“Yes. I discovered trepanning others is entirely more lucrative than trepanning myself. Thank goodness for silly rock stars, eh?” Jess flashed Thom a wink in the mirror. “Okay, Thom, I’m down to the bone. Ready for me to open you up?”
Thom stared into the violet eyes of his reflection and took a deep breath. “Go for it.”
Jess returned a solemn nod before turning to pick up the drill.
***
“Do you mind if I sit here?” the old woman asked Thom, as she placed a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of him.
“No, go ahead.” Tom smiled up at the woman before going back to his book. He rubbed his brow and took a drag on the cigarette sat idling in the ashtray on the table.
“Ta,” she said sitting down and placing her shopping by her feet. She pulled her coat tighter and took a sip of her coffee. “Brr, it’s cold today.”
Thom nodded his agreement but he wasn’t in the mood for chitchat; he wanted to finish the chapter he was reading.
“Perfect for Halloween, of course.” The woman continued talking undeterred. She looked up and scanned the sky. “Cold and clear of cloud. Perfect for piercing the veil.”
“I’m sorry, what is?” Thom asked. He wasn’t paying attention but didn’t want to appear rude.
“The veil between worlds, here and beyond,” the woman said. “It’s thinnest at Halloween. We have perfect conditions today for piercing the barrier.”
At her words, Thom immediately pictured himself sailing upward through an ocean of sky before hitting impenetrable nothingness. The dull throb of his constant headache suddenly spiked, causing him to wince.
“Are you okay? You’ve gone quite pale,” the woman asked with concern.
“Yes,” Thom answered abruptly. He squeezed his eyes shut and saw his fists impotently beating against smooth blackness of space; a fragment of his dream from the night before. “Sorry, yes I’m fine. I have a headache.”
“Wait here.” The woman ordered, before rushing off inside the coffee shop. “And watch my bags.”
Thom felt confused; he wanted to leave, but felt obliged to stay until she returned. His headache had started to settle down but his curiosity was piqued. How could this woman, a stranger, have described his floating dream, when he’d never told anybody else about it before?
“Here we are.” The woman returned, placing a mug of hot water in front of him.
“Er, thanks,” Thom replied sceptically, as he watched her rummage through one of her many shopping bags.
“It’s for this,” she said, brandishing a teabag and a wide smile. She dropped it into the steaming mug. “Ginger tea. It’s the most wonderful tension reliever. I always drink it if I have a headache. Please try it. My name is Jess, by the way.”
Thom dunked the teabag, turning the clear liquid amber. “Thom Lusher.” He took a tentative sip of the hot tea. “Thank you.”
Jess sat back and observed Thom contemplatively. “If you don’t mind me saying, Thom, you have the look of someone who knows suffering. Have you had the headache a long time?”
Thom froze mid sip. He felt the hot liquid burn his top lip but his headache had ebbed away. He stared at Jess’s frank and open face, encouraging him to unburden. He put down the tea and lit a fresh cigarette. “All my life,” he said thickly.
Jess sniffed the cold air before glancing skyward. “Well, Thom. I think I can help you.”
***
Rizzz Rizzz
“No, wait!” Thom sprang from the salon chair and turned toward Jess. He backed into the mirror unit, scattering pots of hair product to the floor. “I’m sorry, Jess. Can we just wait a moment?”
Jess placed the silent drill back on the trolley and rushed round to comfort him. “Of course. Oh my goodness, Thom, you’re trembling. Just sit down a moment and I’ll tidy up this mess.”
“I’ll help-” Thom started to bend down but Jess stopped him.
“No, you’ll get blood everywhere. Sit there, I’ll sort this out.” Jess handed him a towel. “And wipe your face, you have blood trickling from your hairline.
Thom perched on the edge of the salon chair, holding the towel to his forehead, while Jess got onto her knees and started gathering the strewn pots.
“I’m sorry but it was when you gunned the drill twice,” Thom explained. “I don’t know, it just set me off.”
“And I’m sorry, too. You’re obviously not ready for this procedure. Oh no, this one’s broken open.”
Jess got to her feet and wiped her hands on spare towel. “I’ll have to get a mop.”
“Jess-”
“No, Thom, it’s okay.” Jess grabbed Thom’s right arm and shoulder, pushing him back into the chair. “I’ll mop first and bandage you up, then tidy up your hair. Nobody will notice the bald spot. Promise.”
Thom let out a noisy sigh of relief. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”
“I shouldn’t worry about it,” Jess called back over her shoulder as she made her way the the back room of the salon. “We all shock ourselves from time to time. I’ll make you drink.”
“Ginger tea?”
Jess stopped. “No, I’ve got something special for shock. I’ll be back in a jiff.”
Thom stared at himself in the mirror whilst Jess was gone. He picked up a hand mirror from the trolley and held it at and angle over his head so that he could see the damage. All he could see was a pool of blood that lapped across the shaven skin, soaking into his hair. Thom grimaced at the sight of maroon and black wound with crimson tinges. “Fuck!”
“Here we are.” Jess returned and handed Thom a dark green, steaming brew. She took the hand mirror from him and replaced it on the trolley. “Drink up. This is my own recipe, tell me what you think.”
She left again to collect the mop, leaving Thom to gingerly sipped at the hot concoction. “Hey, this is delicious, Jess” he shouted out. He took a slurp. “What’s in it?”
“Oh a little of this, a little of that.” Jess returned with a mop and bucket and set about cleaning up gloop and splashes of blood from the floor. “Mostly sugar. Sugar’s good for shock.”
Thom drained the cup. “Well, I thought-”
Jess quickly placed her fingertips over Thom’s mouth.”No, sit back and be quiet, Thom. Let the tea work,” she said firmly.
Thom sat back in the chair and watched Jess clean up. She moved the mop from side to side and returned the pots of creams back to the mirror shelf, all in rhythmical, moving silence.
Thom looked at the bloody towel in his hands and thought about his crazy day, and how it wouldn’t be over for a while yet. He felt the tension drain from his body and his eyelids droop. I must tell Jess that her tea is better than the ginger stuff, was the last thing Thom thought before he nodded off to sleep.
***
“Help me, how?”
Thom took a drag from his cigarette and looked over at Jess. She took a gulp of her coffee and stared back at him. “Help me, how?” Thom asked again.
“Thom, there are many ancient rituals and practices that have been mostly forgotten by the modern world. I happen to be a practitioner in a number of them.”
“Like what? Voodoo shit?”
Jess chuckled. “Not exactly, no. What I’m thinking of for you was stolen by the medical profession and renamed something ugly to put people off.”
Thom was perplexed. The conversation he didn’t want to have, then enticed into having was taking a turn for the bizarre. “What are you talking about?”
“Trepanation, Thom. It has been practised for thousands of years. Until quite recently that is. Now it’s called a Craniotomy and only doctors are allowed to perform it.”
“Wait.” Thom could suddenly feel his seat leave his chair and his knees bumped under the cafe table, hard enough to knock the ashtray to the floor with a clatter. He grabbed on to the edge of the table. “You want to drill a hole in my head?!”
Jess plucked up her coffee cup from the table before it flipped over. “Oh, but I’m trepanning you right now,” she said to the departing Thom, who was floating higher and higher, feet first. She pointed an index finger toward him and retracted it twice, like pulling a trigger. “Rizzz Rizzz. No more headache.”
“No, wait!” Thom screamed as at first a laughing Jess, followed by the High Street, the town and then all the land below shrunk from his sight. He zoomed up through the cold, blue, cloudless sky. Thom knew exactly where he was heading but this time he did not know what he would find.
***
Suck Glug Slurp
“Oh shit, he’s a gusher!”
A fountain of blood erupted from the hole Jess had made in Thom’s head and splattered over her face, neck and chest. She hastily grabbed the wadding from the trolley, in order to stem the blood spouting from the top of Thom’s lolling head. Blood streamed from between her fingers, across her hand and flowed down along the henna tattoos on her forearm. It dripped from Jess’s elbow and pooled at her feet.
She placed an arm across Thom’s chest and pulled him upright, all whilst holding his head steady, maintaining pressure on the gaping wound. Jess stayed like that, chanting quietly until she was certain the bleeding had slowed enough for her to remove the sodden wadding and she could take a look. Deep at the centre of the circle of blood and matted hair, Jess could see the pulse of pinkish brain.
She covered the wound with a bandage and removed his bloody cape, before setting about cleaning up. Once Jess was sure the floor was clear of blood, she placed black candles around unconscious Thom’s chair and lit them. Finally she hung a mournful looking goat skull, from the top of the brightly lit mirror, so that it replaced Thom’s head in his reflection.
As she finished, Thom opened a fiery eye. “Daughter?”
“I knew it! I knew he was the one!” Jess howled with glee, before dropping to her knees to kiss Thom’s hand. Tears streamed from her twinkling, eyes. “Oh, Satan, my Lord and Master. You have come at last!”
Thom gently lifted Jess’s blood-flecked face toward him and smiled radiantly down upon her.
*Mel’s still my favourite Hamlet, Clicky… /lights up and smokes… And I’ve seen a few…*
*/drags… Although it’s a rather nice sync, Clicky… /expels smoke…*
*Nicely cropped, Clicky… /flicks ash… That dead tree lion there looks like it’s sleeping… /puffs contentedly… Dreaming perchance?*
*I ain’t kidding, Clicky… /coughs… That was not the ending I was expecting… /clears throat… At all…*
*/final drag… Seriously, Clicky, the story was meant to be a parody… /stubs butt… Not a fuckin’ manual…*
Lebanon
‘name of a nation in western Asia, from Semitic root l-b-n “white,” probably in reference to snow-capped peaks, or possibly to chalk or limestone cliffs. The Greek name of the island Lemnos is of Phoenician origin and from the same root.’
Beirut
‘Lebanese capital, from Hebrew, literally “the wells,” from be’erot, plural of be’er “well.”
*What are you thinking, Clicky?*
*Oh, you’re referring to Sunday’s remote viewing… /winks… Gotcha…*
I always tend to enjoy rewatches. You see things you missed the first time around, you see things you’ve forgotten about, and you may even come away with totally different experience on subsequent viewings than your initial experience. I dunno if such experiences help better establish one’s location, or causes one to become more lost. Still, it’s always cool to experience an old something with someone new. Almost makes the lost feel found. And speaking of being lost, how about a sappy song below, prefaced by the song’s sappy lyrics.
Alice In Chains
“Got Me Wrong”
Yeh, it goes away
All of this and more of nothing in my life
No color clay
Individuality not safe
As of now I bet you got me wrong
So unsure you run from something strong
I can’t let go
Threadbare tapestry unwinding slow
Feel a tortured brain
Show your belly like you want me to
As of now I bet you got me wrong
So unsure we reach for something strong
I haven’t felt like this in so long
Wrong, in a sense too far gone from love
That don’t last forever
Something’s gotta turn out right
You sugar taste
Sweetness doesn’t often touch my face
Stay if you please
You may not be here when I leave
As of now I bet you got me wrong
So unsure we reach for something strong
I haven’t felt like this in so long
Wrong, in a sense too far gone from love
Strong, I haven’t felt like this in so long
Wrong, in a sense too far gone from love
That don’t last forever
Something’s gotta turn out right
‘Not all those who wander are lost.’
— J.R.R. Tolkien
Was kinda interesting that over the past day or so, trees of all kinds and trees with people in them started popping up like…weeds. What it all means? Notta clue. Sure has inspired some interesting conversation tho’. Very fulfilling. Has led to some interesting places. Branching, you might say.
*Clicky, it’s late in the day and have to go make dinner. Can you introduce Cade’s new missive, please? …/pauses… Keep it simple, Sweetie…*
*Excellent! A Song to cook to… /sashays toward kitchen…*
If you are looking for the source of a river, chances are you’re looking in the wrong direction.
Perhaps...look...up?
Up is actually out, and out is eventually down…the river will spread and diverge from there.
By first looking up, you can cover more ground more efficiently
So yeah, when looking for a river’s source? You’re gonna have to look high and low.
Ever heard of “scoop marks”? Was watching something on the topic of alien abductions with a friend, and the topic of “scoop marks” came up in the video. Supposedly, a surefire telltale sign of being abducted by aliens is these things called “scoop marks” on the skin where extraterrestrials are supposedly taking skin samples. The lady in the video showed a photo of some of these “scoop marks”, and I freaked upon seeing examples of these scoop marks. I, am fucking covered in those things. Always wondered what they were, why they are there, etc., but now am I to assume that I’ve been abducted multiple times by extraterrestrial beings?
All I wanted to do was see if I could find something on “scoop marks” on the epidermis. Maybe see what, if anything, they may have to do with Morgellons.
Now, I can honestly say that I know exactly what caused at least one of these many scoop marks that I personally have. Weed-eater, or string trimmer or whatever you wanna call it slung a rock into my left shin, made a huge indention, and it never really healed for a very long time. Eventually it turned white, the indention is still there, and this was kind of a trigger for me to start looking at these other “scoop marks” that I was already covered with long before that weed-whacker left an impact crater on my shin.
What I wondered was, is it possible that I am, for some reason, covered with impact craters. Because if that’s the case, what in the FUCK could possibly be slamming into me that I would not notice? Worse still, maybe I DID notice, but these injuries happened so long ago that I for the most part dismissed them. Certainly never considered some aggregate down the road that would result in my body looking like the surface of Luna.
A: Roy Sullivan
Now, Roy may have been struck multiple times, but he was likely in different places when he was struck. Like for example, riding your motorcycle down the highway at 70mph in shorts with no shirt and no helmet, and getting stuck behind a gravel truck that is peppering the living fuck out of you as it trails a rolling sandstorm.
With that in mind, does a single person/human qualify as a single point in space? Different places, different times, different storms, different injuries, same human. What I’m thinking about here is more related to “less-physically detectable” types of impacts which may be blasting a human body daily without you ever even knowing it. Is there an aggregate type of damage occurring over time which results in scars appearing with no apparent cause(s)?
How many times you figure you used a weed-eater while wearing shorts and butchering the living fuck out of your legs before you decided it was probably a good idea to wear long pants when trimming the grass on the lawn? I live in Texas. It’s hot out there in the summer. Motherfucking hot hot hot it is. Lawn work wearing jeans to protect my legs? Not a very appealing idea no matter how much of a beating the jeans save my legs from.
So you’ve got a choice…butcher your legs via high-speed debris slung by the weed-whacker, or forego the micro-injuries to your legs and risk dehydration and possibly heat stroke. You could of course save yourself by hiring the job out. Let somebody else take the risks and suffer the injuries.
Lesse…where was I? OH YEAH!!! I was thinking about micro-impacts on the epidermis, and maybe what that does over time. Also thinking about how long a scar or blemish might take to manifest if one were caught outside during a solar storm. Or maybe after getting an x-ray. Or maybe if you live near a cell tower. Or maybe if the shielding on your home’s wiring isn’t that great.
Thing is tho, I’m also thinking about how likely energy is to return to a specific point on the human body. We are electrical beings afterall, we generate fields, and a specific field generated by a specific human may have a propensity to direct certain energies to certain locations. May seem a stretch to some, but it occurs to me that any energy/energies which the body cannot deflect, it may try to direct. Send it to some area where this energy will do the least amount of damage. Or maybe even…the most amount of damage.
A: Maybe certain energies are not supposed to exist when and where they do, and/or perhaps not in the intensities and/or frequencies where they exist
Sucks for sure. but at the same time, great calling card to leave.
THIS(energy) = THAT(injury)
For the record, I’m not thinking specifically about “5G” in the thoughts above. 5G is just one of many energies that we are bombed with every day, and more are coming. What is on my mind is how our bodies respond and even adapt. Or at least, how our bodies cope.
lolz…speaking of being bombed by energies…in the video below, @ 37 seconds, one of the girls bends over, and you can almost tell that the camera operator started to zoom in on the girl’s ass, but thought better of it and wobbled a bit before turning the focus away from her bent-over ass.
Fucking rofl
So yeah…um…with that girl bending over like, can her ass and the related real-estate be considered “a directed-energy weapon”?
Your own house…it needs to be in order. Doesn’t matter what your neighbor nor anyone else is doing. If your own shit ain’t in order, and you are blasting others for their actions, you’re pissing in a fan.
Like, spiritually
Spiritually pissing, into the spiritual fan. Maybe you are a fan of golden showers.
/shrug
When you are several hundred feet tall, I’m guessing that the combination of a huge heart coupled with three brains produces a lot of electricity. Nevermind that you’ve got a giant body moving through air which almost assuredly produces a shitload of static electricity. I guess this is why King Ghidra/Monster Zero can shoot lightning out of it’s mouth(s). I do wonder tho – Ghidra does seem to be able to blast lightning on command, so where is all that electricity stored until needed?
And speaking of storing electricity, I finally got my first gander at a battery from a Tesla car the other day. Was shocked to learn that the battery seems to be a giant flat plate that runs the entire length and width of the vehicle. I dunno how concerned you personally are about electromagnetic and/or electrostatic radiation, but putting your ass on top of a giant source of such energies? Especially with no shielding between your soft bits and that giant battery?
Seems like a bad idea
Nevermind that induction motor swinging electrons like crazy. Riding in a Tesla vehicle just seems the equivalent of operating a balloon factory on top of some power lines that are located near a cluster of TV transmitters and broadcast towers, and all your workers are cats.
I have no idea what kind(s) of shielding a Tesla vehicle has for the EMF radiation(s) that the vehicle itself emits. I do know that finding information about the particulars of Tesla vehicles has proven to be troublesome. But that kinda makes more sense now that I know that Tesla vehicles will not work unless they are connected to the Tesla corporation’s infrastructure. It also appears that Tesla vehicle owners cannot work on nor repair their own vehicles. You cannot purchase parts for your Tesla vehicle.
Yeesh
Sounds like Musk has taken the worst from other corporations, and aggregated them in his own corporation.
Yeesh
Why in the fuck would anyone want to own one of these things?
You only wanted to deliver packages…
…you are now an operative of the state.
Before long, everyone you interact with will be so well trained in so many areas of information gathering for dissemination to third parties that the nature of one-on-one relationships will forever be changed. Unless you yourself have also been trained and assimilated into the intelligence gathering rings, you’ll have no idea what other people are sizing you up for and why. Fuck getting your packages delivered in a timely manner, we’re too busy trying to snoop on you to worry about something so insignificant as your consumerist bullshit parcel.
Best part is that certain entities can save on their operating costs. Worst part is that it diminishes the importance of the concepts behind the NSPCC’s stated purpose. Nevermind that you’ve created yet another branch for abuse(s) by attempting to turn more and more people into informants. Someone complains about Deliveroo?
Report them as suspected child abusers
If this was a voluntary thing your delivery drivers signed up for? Maybe not quite as bad as your delivery personnel are willingly accepting the associated risks. But making it mandatory? You’re opening your employees up to a shitload of personal risk which you yourself do not share, all so your company and its partners can get some free advertising. Your grass is likely to get redder on the other side.
Grass getting redder
Redder?
More red?
More...read?
Grass is greener gets more red.
Grass is greener gets more read.
Density...Within...The Body
Strange concept to ponder, no? To wonder how certain molecules may tug differently on our innards. When you couple this with thinking about environmental changes, say like barometric pressure, seasonal changes, ergonomics, lifestyles, etc., shit gets really wonky.
James Randi (AKA: The Amazing Randi) is known for taking an entire bottle of homeopathic medicine before a performance in order to demonstrate what bullshit homeopathic medicines are. The dose in each capsule is so minute, that he can take a whole bottle with no ill effect on his person. If it’s the dose that makes the poison, I guess in this case, the absence of proper dosing is perceived to be the poison.
Fair enough
But at the same time, a ship with a small rudder will turn just as well as a ship with a large rudder, you just gotta plan ahead a little further with respect to your turns. And what I’m thinking about here is how well we chart our courses and plan our turns with respect to our own health. More specifically, is it possible that minute changes/minute influences can affect our lives equally as much as drastic changes/influences?
You cut out the enchiladas and chicken wings in order to whip your body “back” into shape. Back – there’s no going back. Forward is the only available option. With that in mind, you’re headed backwards in your head, forwards with your body, and the whole mess is gonna wind up someplace that neither likely expected to be. Lemme back up a bit. If you make changes in your life, it should prolly be to alter course from where you are currently headed rather than an attempt to return to home port. You never left home port. You took it with you when you ventured off to wherever in the fuck you went. Perhaps that old saying “you can never go home again” should actually read…”you can ever go home again”. You’re always home. Always and ever, home.
Digress
I wanna know what densities are required within the human body to achieve a certain result. Take Carbon for example. We are supposedly “Carbon-Based” lifeforms, so what the fuck is it doing in there, why is it required, and in what concentration(s)?
Same with other stuff
What kinds of mass is required? What density? What concentration? More than that, what make the body go bonkers when certain densities of certain things are attained?
We’re gonna have to think energy and energies here as well, because we here and now live in a world that is motherfucking obsessed with energy. Booze, Ayahuasca, opiates/opioids, coffee, energy drinks, vitamins & minerals, wearable technology, WiFi, radio, television, noisy cars, noisy airplanes, air-pollution, makeup, deodorizers, scented candles, cleansers …we are fucking bombed out of our fucking gourds on energy and energies of every sort. But what about…
a string?
A thread. A tiny fucking fiber embedded in your flesh that is so small that you’d need a powerful microscope in order to see it. What does that “dense object” do to your body as it occupies space and displaces what would normally be there? How does your body even perceive it? Does your body even perceive it?
Recently, I read something regarding the length of human DNA strands. It stated that the length of all the DNA strands from a single cell stretched end to end equates to about 6 feet/2 meters, and that all the DNA from all the cells in a single human would stretch from Earth/Terra to Sol and back 300 times. Today, I see this…
The average adult human male is 5’6” wide and 1’4” tall. Wait…I fucked that up. Average adult human male is 5 feet 6 inches tall, and 1 foot 4 inches wide. You know what? Fuck this. They say all humans currently alive will fit into the Grand Canyon, fine, we’ll all fit. You wanna know a real challenge tho? Actually getting to and actually seeing and/or experiencing the Grand Canyon. Now there’s a challenge. I’ve never been there. Never seen it. I get the impression that I am not alone in that regard.
In an age when travel is so readily available, almost no one can actually do it. Especially now that all this Coronovirus/nCoV-2019 nonsense started happening. Good time to institute new travel requirements and new travel guidelines tho, eh? Wanna travel? Get chipped, and you’re free to go wherever you want, whenever you want.
According to the standard rules anyway
But maybe…just maybe…there’s another way? Yeah…to travel. Maybe there’s another way.
Was just listening to an Astrology video that a certain someone posted over at Merovee, when I open my Twitter and see this…
I guess that is more or less an admission that everything you do within your first 10 years as an Astrologer is complete bullshit. Sounds to me like you owe a lotta people refunds.
A: ó¿ó
I’m guessing that Astrology is considered a service since the Astrologer is basically performing labor for a specific period of time, and there’s no tangible something provided in the transaction.
Jail? JAIL?!?!?! No fines? No warnings? No probation? No licensing revocations? Straight to fucking JAIL with ye!!!
Jesus...tough crowd this one
If there’s law regulating a something, that likely means licensing is also going to be required. If licensing is required, that means regulatory agencies are going to be required. If regulatory agencies are required, that means money is required. If money is required, that means taxes are required.
SO!
You wanna know the future, eh? But you want these predictions to be accurate and you also want recourse in the event predictions are not accurate? Welp, here’s a prediction for ya…
taxes, headaches, and a shitload of them
How’s that for an accurate prediction? Best part is, you made it all come true. You’re the master of your own destiny. Well done.
(yawn)
Is your tolerance capable of tolerating intolerance? Or have you joined the opposition without even realizing it? Just watched the vid below with a friend, and I honestly have no idea what they are on about. Honor? Prestige? Reputation? Seems to be a disconnect between the video title and what is actually said during the course of the video.
If you want something protected, protect it. Pretty simple really. Don’t ask someone else to do it, don’t commission someone else to do it, don’t attempt to force someone else to do it. Finish your smoke, finish your beer, end your complaint-cast, and get your own ass down to wherever this something is you want protected and protect it. It will mean so much more to your personal scruples with your own ass on the line to protect this something.
Divergence is sad. It’s a tough thing to take. Everything is going smoothly and according to plan…and then BLAMMO!!!
Divergence
On the up-side tho, this means reconciliation is on the horizon. You know exactly where to go, and now all you have to do is make a decision on whether or not to go get it back. Or you can stay diverged. Maybe you’re better off apart. You’re still together, just a new kind of togetherness.
A part of apart
Are you one to turn down financial opportunities? Nah, I didn’t think so, just asking. We’re pretty much trained from the cradle to identify and act upon opportunities. We may even have plans already in place should certain opportunities arise.
Begin
If “this” = “that” then
Do “this”;
End;
Strategy. Strategization
Begin
If “dead” = “rising” then
Do “grab gun and aim for the head”;
End;
You may even have more esoteric plans. Like, in the event of a retreat or some other withdrawal of the opposition, advance your own forces. Problem with adopting military thinking is tho, that you kinda need to be a study of the entire subject in order for military/paramilitary thinking to be effective. Utilizing only bits and pieces of military strategy is likely to lead to disaster.
Here, lemme help you out a bit…
Not really trying to encourage anyone in a tactical sort of way, but maybe learning a bit about how things work and why. May make you rethink that plan to go to war. Especially if you were to discover that the people you are going to war with are the very individuals who were encouraging you to wage war in the first place. Yeah, you thought they were your allies, but they are actually the opposition.
Stretches the imagination, eh? Welp, just keep in mind what “they” want to do. “They”, want to control you. You really think “they” give a flying fuck how “they” achieve this? Nope. By any and all means, “they” will be victorious. “They’ll” pick a fight with you via your own hand, at “their” prompting, and make anything and everything appear all your fault. You were seeking glory, right?
Welcome to it
If you’re looking for a straight-up toe to toe fight, I suggest you stick to boxing. The objective of warfare is to win, and irrespective of any convention or treaties, anything goes in the heat of battle. Who is to stop them?
YOU'RE IN A FUCKING WAR IN THE MIDDLE OF COMBAT!!!
Sure any violators may be subject to repercussions down the road and after-the-fact, but this is do or die…us or them…here and now. You really think a soldier gives a flying fuck about “the rules” when its their own ass on the line?
This pulling down statues bullshit is so fucking stupid, there almost assuredly has to be something else behind it.
Prolly loads of varied interests behind it
Kinda funny to think of opposing interests converging at a single point without even realizing it. I guess in the heat of the moment tho, it doesn’t really matter. You want that statue DOWN. Anyone who shows up to help achieve this? Meh, who cares? They’re available and willing, so, fuck it.
Yeah I know, plenty of stories throughout history of people(s) tearing the living fuck out of things, and we’re just likely experiencing our own tribulations in that and those regard(s). Do wonder how blind people are with respect to the reasons why?
That includes how blind I myself am
I see things, but not sure what that really means, nor to whom. Mainly, I’m interested with why certain entities appear to be attempting to get me to think and behave in certain ways. Requiring me to state the obvious is neither confirmation nor reinforcement. If anything, it’s a detraction. Limiting. Puts me in a box and requires me to behave in a manner that is acceptable and/or pleasing to you. Makes me act in ways that you think you’d behave were you in a similar situation. Got news for you, I’m not you, nor will I behave like you. Similar maybe, but certainly not same.
You’ve no idea what I’m talking about, do you?
No sweat…I’ve no idea what in the fuck you are talking about either.
Not a clue what you want from me nor why.
What a pair we make, eh?
*Clicky, you done?*
*Brilliant! Grubs up… /pats snout… I’m gonna read the missive after eating, with a cup of coffee and a smoke…*
*Indeed, I love my base, Clicky. Come on, dinner…*
*Good thinking, Clicky… /lights up and smokes… I mean, it’s not necessary for Dear Reader to visit your post from yesterday, butt it is related to this one…*
*/flicks ash… I see Shiny has removed his mask now, Clicky…*
CADE
Maybe you can feel me here, and maybe not. But when I think of Chicago, several things come to mind. Cuba, Canada, Belgium, Wax Trax, O’Hare, Midway, AA Flight 191, fireworks, Sears Tower, snow, Aurora, public-access television. Lots of other shit too, but we’re talking about looping through 1987 here in this instance, which was 33 years ago, and that means primarily Wax Trax. Lets put some feelers out…
After watching these vids with Roob, I’m not exactly sure what it is that I am supposed to be doing, other than perhaps solving a mystery. Or maybe giving some of my thoughts surrounding the events of 22 November 1987…24 years after President Kennedy’s assassination in Dallas.
My immediate problem is, watching a set of videos that give their own spin(s) to the event(s). I have no real interest in the Max Headroom pirate signal/hijacking thing, but these videos that I watched are telling me that I should. Not only that, these videos are giving specific reasons as to why I should, namely some Illuminati something or another and all of the symbolism that goes along with it.
With that in mind, I’ve already given you a bunch of my own contributions that likely have no meaning to you unless you loop them through my own perspective(s) via Wax Trax! Records. Namely, Cuba, Canada and Belgium with some nods to Flight 191 and Aurora. And with that, I’ll take a breather and let Roob take the controls for a while.
ROOB
Thank you for the 33, 22, 11 introduction, Cade 😉
Although I was already aware of Chicago network hacking incident in 1987, I was rather taken by the enigmatic Professor Bulwer Symthe character. The words he used, some repeatedly, like ‘Israel’, ‘alien broadcast’ and ‘sophisticated’…
“Who or what?”
*/smokes contentedly… I know what you’re thinking, Clicky…*
*No, tho’ blimey yeah… /deep drag… No, I noticed the Doctor glance at the photo of his granddaughter, Susan, on his desk… /plumes smoke… And the very first episode of Doctor Who, featuring Susan, was broadcast the day after President Kennedy was assassinated. The show very nearly got cancelled ‘cos nobody saw it…*
“Oh I just made the greatest masterpiece for all the greatest world newspaper nerds!”
As soon as I heard that, my mind went to the smoking Red universe of Merovee and a question frequently explored there by the greatest whirled news mind lines nerds: What Is Real?
Over to Cade…
CADE
JMO, Roob, but “what is real” is quite simple most of the time. You know it. The depth of a particular reality may take time to plumb, may take time to understand or come to grips with it, but yeah…you know it.
The thing most people seem to have difficulty with is explaining a particular reality to someone else. Especially if you and/or the person you are wanting to relate to are in a big fucking hurry. Not to suggest that “real” is always some inherently complex something, but at the same time…yeah…both real and unreal things seem to be pretty fucking complex. Wait, I’m supposed to be talking about signals, signal hijackings and signal hijackings being hijacked.
Now, not that I know anything about anything, but a quick read of that makes certain words seem redundantly redundant:
Let us see what the professionals have to say about “keyword density” in this particular writing.
If I post the link to the Google CEO blogpost into SmallSEOTools’ keyword density checker, it tells me that my reading of the article may have been correct in detecting certain things being packed into this writing:
What does all that mean? Welp, if you want “real”, you may or may not find it in the Google CEO blogpost. Kinda depends on what you are looking for and maybe why. What you are going to do with the information? Some people may be trying to hijack things for their own purposes, maybe not. Most things are typically quite obvious with the benefit of hindsight, and if ever there was a year to focus on hindsight and what it is, 2020 is likely the year to do that. Me? I love my vision, but prolly a good idea to be aware of your other senses too. And speaking of being aware, I need to toss this back over to Roob.
Smell ya later.
ROOB
I saw the Knights Templar cross make a brief appearance in the video, and something similar appeared in a field in Wiltshire, yesterday, but seen today in the smoking Red universe of Merovee…
*Yes, I know you agree with Cade, Clicky… /stubs butt… Broadcasting is certainly a sync…*
In fact, there is so much to unpack in that second installment, from a puppet lecturing on invisible puppet masters…
… And the whole fly swatting thing…
*Yes, I saw what you did with your Song choice, Clicky. Tho’ I think you’ll find that’s a Monster spatula… /smirks… Still plenty of horns…*
… That syncs with a particular post here at the LoL. Not so much for fly swatting as ‘submit for spanking’, the name of a gif in the post that attracts a disproportionate number of visitors from the Middle Easter. I can only wonder at how disappointed those Dear Readers are when they land that post, whilst busily swatting at their flies…
*That’s the one, Clicky… /scrolls through post… Oh look, Canada is in it and Keith Palmer…*
*Does the pattern on the railing look kinda Templar cross shaped to you Clicky? …/rubs eyes… And is it me, or is that memorial Tardis shaped?*
*OMG! …/covers open mouth with hand… I just remembered the Afterword poem I mutilated for Underdog Anthology II…*
I need a drink. Your turn, Cade…
CADE
Wax trax just took on a whole other meaning. A two-pronged attack on the furry fuzz bivouacked in the crux of the back crack . Yeesh. Must be true love to go through all that. Digress.
And “neutrons leaving the nucleus of an atom” really was my first thought when I saw that crop circle. Also thought about ion-channels. No idea what any of that may mean tho’, other than the obvious “people with too much time on their hands” types of associations. Digress further.
A lot of this stuff in the videos we’ve already talked about in private so I’m trying to address anything that maybe we didn’t talk about (which ain’t much), but seeing as how “insidious” is suddenly on the menu…
When they mentioned in the Max Headroom video that “WGN” means “World’s Greatest Newspaper”, and also that “WTTW” means “Windows To The World”, that’s kindof a misnomer. The “W” really doesn’t mean anything other than it denotes a US broadcast station. The licensee can brand it, but it really doesn’t mean anything outside of it’s original intent, nor should it because 1) it causes confusion, and 2) they are a licensee, not the owner. The owner is the US Government (vis-a-vis…the citizenry). Why is this important? Hijacking. We’re talking hijacking here, and there are some subtleties underlying these romanticisms about institutions that seem to point back to the notion(s) of “too big to fail”. Did I lose you?
Heartstrings may sometimes allow for fudging, flexibility and forgiveness where none should actually be given. Exceptions made, precedents set, new paradigms formed, and applicability only for a select few. Could be creating a managerial and logistical nightmare for regulatory agencies down the road. Someone wanted a monopoly on the letter “W” and its meaning, and someone gave it to them, perhaps without realizing what it was they were doing. Now it comes down to whether or not to honor the “mistake”.
BTW, I went and watched the “raw” videos just to maybe get a more-clear picture of what it is I’m supposed to be seeing. The flyswatter is epically cringeworthy. For me it is anyway. Butt…that’s water under the bridge.
Lots of seemingly insidious shit floating around. But really, is that anything new?
Maybe there’s more to “woke” than just and only pointing out what’s broke.
Maybe there’s more to “the spiritual path” than just and only clever math.
Maybe there’s more to “ascension” that just and only pretension.
Maybe there’s more to “spiritual awakening” than just and only finding a word that rhymes with awakening.
ROOB
Thanks Cade, I had wondered about the origins of W or K prefixing of US radio station names. So, it goes: commercial, military, military, commercial?
*Ooh that nipple ring, is similar in shape to the crop circle, Clicky… /lights up… Prince Albert, Public Address… /drags… Personal Assistant… /plumes cloud of smoke… You know, the first story I ever wrote as an adult was for the first Underdog Anthology. Its aboot a PA, on her knees, receiving demonic cumming…*
*True! And social distancing is integral to the plot of the story…*
*Yes! Cade did spot a masonic compass next to the Tardis shaped Palmer memorial and pissing man, just in front of the Templar cross railings… /drags…*
*In a mirror, left is right and right is left… /streams smoke… I’m still fuzzy as to what’s so bad about being illuminated, Clicky…*
Especially when a pyramid is used to close all the Professor Bulwer Smythe’s vids…*
I’ve not seen the Max Headroom movie and I didn’t watch the TV show back in the day. But for me, ‘max headroom’ reeks of memory storage and increased consciousness, à la David Lynch’s explanation…
*LoL… /smokes…*
I’m spent. Cade’s turn…
CADE
I’m not Clicky (as far as I know) so I’m not attempting to answer Clicky’s question, but your comment about illumination and what’s wrong with it? ‘Tis an interesting thought. Especially in this vein of “AI” thinking we’re doing.
Illumination isn’t just and only “knowing”, but knowing sure is painful sometimes. Knowing can even be specifically designed to be painful. You were not aware that your father was shooting heroin, you were not aware your wife was banging several of your co-workers, you were not aware your kids was failing in school, you were not aware that strange spot on your left cheek was Merkel cell carcinoma…someone illuminates you to these facts….BOOM! Pain.
What we do with this information from there? More pain could be on the way. Prolly important that we also address “what’s right with illumination”, but even that is going to have a lot of negatives associated with it. Signs? Symbols? Wonders? Magical and mysterious things? Loads of these things are going to be associated with “the devil” and chalked up as evil right out of the gate. These could be pivotal moments in time for us with respect to the current established order of our lives.
What I’m mainly thinking about here is how AI obtains and processes information. And especially the information we feed it + what we may tell an AI to do with that information. How we as the masters “control”, and what kind(s) of pain our decision-making may bring this and these AI(s). “We” are the creators, which means “we” are the masters, which means “we” call the shots irrespective of the feelings of those we control. Kindof a weird bunch of thoughts to be having on the 155th anniversary of Juneteenth.
HEY! And whilst we are on the topic of signals, sending signals, and also intercepting/hijacking/pirating signals, did you know that Rush released a new video this week for their song The Spirit Of Radio? Pirate Radio features in the video, lots of radio personalities and/or DJs also feature in the video, which also means lots of detached and faceless voices blasting their way into your life and your lives. What do detached voices have to do with AI, slavery, mysticism, illumination and all kinds of similarly and dissimilarly related things? I dunno…you’re the smart one…you figure it out.
When I first bumbled into this current “awakening” incarnation back in 2007/2008, one of the big ideas was that we humans were a slave race created by the Illimanunakinaughty.
Actually, the Anunnaki are the alien race that supposedly created us, but the Anunnaki seem to also be related to and/or associated the Illuminati, so I personally concatenated the two, then added my own flair since both parties are typically chalked up as evil. The concept of us being a slave race really isn’t that much of a stretch, and seems to have come into the public consciousness around the time of the film Stargate. Stargate relies heavily upon Ancient Egypt as a plot device, and speaking of films utilizing antiquity as plot devices, a somewhat related tweet awaited me when I woke this morning…
In the film Alien, Ian Holm played Ash, an android, and likely the creepiest AI since HAL 9000 from 2001: A Space Oddessey. But it occurs to me that both Ash and HAL share a common trait in that they were both instructed by “the company” to lie and/or kill, with no clearly defined parameters as to exactly how. Only the mission is important, and once the rules go out the fucking window due to fear of failure, everything goes to shit…nothing goes to plan…lots of people die…lots of residual pain(s)…all because of, illumination.
Anyway, Ian Holm is a great actor, I personally remember him most as Napoleon Bonaparte from Time Bandits, Ash from Alien, Professor Fitz from The Aviator, and the priest Vito Cornelius from The Fifth Element. Vito Cornelius…a priest from an ancient secret order warning of The Great Evil’s return, in a time where a “black” President is in office, and the whole thing centers around a temple in Egypt. And you know what just occurred to me? I don’t think “social distancing” is represented anywhere in the film The Fifth Element. Quite the opposite actually. I think at one point, the President mentions there are 200 billion citizens on Earth.
Ian Holm was also in Brazil tho’. Seems like there was quite a bit of “social distancing” in the film Brazil. There was all kinds of distancing in the film Brazil.
“Come together, and experience safely, from your own designated area.”
We appear to be figuring out “how to do it”, without actually doing much of anything.
Roob…I toss it back over to you and Clicky, and I leave the reader with a video that will maybe provide some insight into the post-modern idealism of the 1980’s, and maybe also how that relates to today and/or today’s world.
And, I’d also like to give a shoutout to my Uncle Richard, Aunt Charlotte, and Big John. I think about ya’ll a lot, you’re never far from my mind, and always in my heart.
ROOB
*Yeah, the Rush video is cool. Reminds of A-Ha…*
I have to say I am less convinced by the argument made for the first pillar of the Professor’s theory. Shady ethics and corporate marketing? Seriously?
* /rolls eyes… The Professor needs to watch that, Clicky, for the bigger picture of shady practices used by government, business and scientific entities in order to sell the public on an idea… /final drag… Buy their product…*
“Drink Coca-Cola”
Coca-Cola saw sales rise 57.7% following James Vickery’s subliminal messaging, where as popcorn sales rose only 18.1%…
“Hungry? Buy Popcorn”
*He definitely says ‘buy’… /stubs butt… Hmm…*
Maybe the difference can be accounted for by the simplicity of the first message, whereas the second message is far more complex, being as it is preceded by a question: ‘Hungry?’…
*I saw a ‘DO NOT QUESTION AUTHORITY’ subliminal message in there, Clicky, but nary a question mark in sight…*
There are a ton of answers for a question such as ‘Hungry?’ Asking a question of a viewer through subliminal messaging is not the same as giving them a simple command to act upon. Asking a question prompts thinking and not, mindless action. I’m not saying there isn’t anything to subliminal messaging, just that this particular tranche of the Professor’s argument is weak. I mean, what movie were the subject audience watching?
As for hypnosis? There’s a reason why people respond to hypnosis…
And with that, I’ll now pass you back to Cade.
CADE
Roob, you’re right on track with some of the things that I too thought about with respect to a lot of the ground we are covering, a lot of the ground Professor Blue-Hand covered, and especially the bits regarding subliminal anything.
Our bodies seem to disapprove of intruders of all kinds. If a something exists within a certain more or less known framework (our bodies), and that framework cannot figure out what that something is doing there, the framework is likely to start asking questions. Begin an interrogative process to figure out what this something is doing there, and what, if anything, needs to be done about it. Adaptive systems which sometimes know exactly how to react (intruders and foreign objects of known quantities) sometimes don’t know how to react (new organisms or maybe new materials,) and sometimes may even be prohibited from acting due to outside influences.
Sorry Roob, but I’ve run long in thinking of disrupters and shieldings within the context of a body being able to locate and identify “pirate signals”. And in this case, the “pirate signal” being messages received by the body, when the body either doesn’t know or maybe doesn’t understand these messages and their origins…let alone their meaning(s). Just wondering aloud some thoughts I’ve had regarding humans developing immunities to…pirate signals/hijacked communications.
BTW, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that “Safe Space” symbol almost identical to the symbol in the Trump ad Facebook just removed for being “a Nazi hate symbol”?
Yeah, the Trump one has a square around the triangle, the Safe Space has a circle around the triangle, and the colors are different, but they both have colored triangles encapsulated in other shapes, and the triangles are oriented the same. Weird.
Oh…one last thought when thinking about the peculiarities of an entity being able to encounter and understand new things. You know what AI is never given? What accommodation never seems to be afforded Artificial Intelligence(s)? Leisure time. Time off. Breaks. Respite. Convalescence. If the machine is powered on, it fucking well better be working, and it best be working in top form…or else.
24/7/365 – no deviance from the established, no rests written into the score, and no recitatives for this songbird.
Sing to me songbird…sing to me.
Sounds like hell.
Back to you Roob.
ROOB
Did you catch the wave, above? 😉
Finally, we get to the ’11’ of the 911 hack attack in Chicago in 1987 and Doctor Who… Who else?
*I recognise the Sontarans, Clicky, but what happened to the Rutans? …/lights up and smokes…*
‘The creature then stalks down and kills the others in the lighthouse. Vince dies first, then Adelaide. With its presence now revealed, the alien sheds its disguise: revealing itself to be a Rutan, the hereditary enemies of the Sontarans, a green blob-like amphibious life form, whose scout ship crash landed in the sea and is trying to summon its mother ship. With the Rutans losing the war against the Sontarans, they plan to turn Earth into a base for its strategic position, which will allow them to launch a counterattack. However, once the Sontarans find the planet, it will become subject to a photonic bombardment, taking countless human lives.
‘The Doctor modifies a weapon to destroy the alien. The Doctor and Skinsale retrieve diamonds from Palmerdale’s body belt to use the weapon, but Skinsale is killed by the Rutan in the process. The Doctor uses the diamonds as a focus for the electric lighthouse beam to convert it into a high-energy laser by which he destroys the Rutan mother ship. Disobeying the Doctor, Leela watches the laser destroy the ship and is momentarily blinded, and as a side effect the blinding flash turns Leela’s eyes from brown to blue. The Doctor quotes Wilfrid Wilson Gibson’s poem Flannan Isle as they leave.’
*Of course! Ruth Clayton, a.k.a. The ‘Black’ Doctor, smashed the lighthouse light, its illuminator, in order to ‘wake up’ and inhabit her real identity… /shakes head… I did not see that coming…*
“Though three men dwell on Flannan Isle
To keep the lamp alight,
As we steer’d under the lee, we caught
No glimmer through the night.”A passing ship at dawn had brought
The news; and quickly we set sail,
To find out what strange thing might ail
The keepers of the deep-sea light.
*Spooky…*
*Pharmers… /grimaces…*
And now for the final video in the Professor Bulwer Smythe’s Max Headroom series… “so far…” 😉 I hand you over to Cade…
CADE
Wait…I’m supposed to be writing about each individual video? Bloops! I’ve been giving my overall impressions on all the videos we watched, and not really a detailed analysis, let alone a detailed analysis of each individual video. Erm…lemme do this, Imma start watching the final part, get to a stopping point, and I’ll give some thoughts on what I see.
PAUSED!!! @ 1:04 into the “Synchro-Vox” episode. Part 6 or whatever.
They start off by talking about personalities and how they develop, mention the book “I Am A Strange Loop” by Douglas Hofstadter, then use an example from the comic-strip Peanuts to make the case for static vs dynamic personality modeling. For those unfamiliar with the comic, one of the running gags is Lucy holding an American football for Charlie Brown to kick, she always convinces him to try to kick the ball, he is always skeptical, she always convinces him that this time will be different, Lucy ALWAYS pulls the ball away just as Charlie Brown is about to kick the ball, and he always goes flying and winds up flat on his back. In the video example, Lucy “swears on her mother’s grave” that she will not pull the ball away, the video goes on to talk about memory being a predictive indicator, but then only uses Charlie Brown as a reference “in one’s own head” as to the outcome.
I find this odd because Charlie Brown is not the only dynamic in this “predictive indicator”, and Charlie Brown is actually only half of the equation.
A: Is it because shes….*gasp*…female?!?!!??
We are one of three parties involved in this dynamic, and really the fourth when you take the author of Peanuts into consideration. We can now reduce the dynamic to only two parties…the reader, and the author. The author is speaking to me, they are using the Lucy/football/Charlie Brown dynamic to communicate with me, and since this is a running gag, yes, we already know the outcome irrespective of the dialogue between Lucy and Chuck in the panes of the comic-strip. The author is talking to the reader, doing so via familiar characters and familiar situations, and the reader is listening. But to further explore “this static dynamic” a bit of Lucy, Charlie Brown and the football…
A: ??? there’s nothing new…it’s just new to you ¿¿¿
One could argue that everything dynamic is actually a static something that is not yet well understood by an individual or a group of individuals. As a new reader to Peanuts, you are unaware of the ongoing football feud between Lucy and Charlie Brown, and so as you continue reading, you hold out hope that “someday, Charlie Brown will indeed kick that football because Lucy will not pull it away”. So, you read on with starry eyes towards a better day that will never come because the creator has designed it that way. Lucy will always, always, pull that football away. Charlie Brown will never, ever, kick that football. This brings up yet another interesting question…
A: ???
One could argue that maybe we sometimes stress the outcome of a particular situation instead of relishing the events of the journey as we travel. Not to mention, the fact that Lucy can always be counted on to pull the ball away, the fact that Charlie Brown will always try and kick the football…Jesus…talk about stable people in a stable relationship. Lucy and Chuck are godlike in this regard (all thanks to Charles M. Shulz).
Thanks for the ride Roob. This was fun. Educational. Mind-altering. Soul-enlightening. A tad rough on the fingers and the carpal-tunnel, but its been well worth it 🙂
ROOB
Thank you, Cade ❤
*Chicago rhymes with Clutch Cargo… /thinks… I’ll annoy…*
Really, you should see for yourself what the puppet professor with a third eye is dissecting and presenting in this series. There is another, and final episode promised. Maybe Bulwerk Smythe will include his take on:
If this incident is as import-…
P.S. From Cade – Roob, there’s one thing I thought about through the whole of this adventure, but neglected to get around to it. Primarily, data and data interpretation. One could argue that the numbers on subliminal advertising are wildly erratic due to improper interpretation of the results. Maybe even due to inaccurate reporting of the findings due to…erm…some underlying agenda. Needing the numbers to say something that the research doesn’t actually support. But I would think, that with subliminal messaging, someone is likely to pick up the mantle at some point, point out that the data was not being properly analyzed due to the science not being fully understood, modeling techniques are much better now, computer systems give us new insight, and soon you’ve got a whole wave of new converts with dollar signs in their eyes looking at your old subversive advertising bandwagon made shiny new.
Another thing that appears to be overlooked is that we are cyclical beings who live in a cyclic environment on a cyclical planet that is teaming with rhythms of all kinds and types. Looking for a single steady tone within a symphony of noise and noises that we do not understand seems at times…absurd. But, I guess that’s kinda maybe part of what makes us human. Chase the impossible /shrug
To me, that’s kinda what this whole series of videos was about. Looking at old things with new eyes in order to see something that others in the past likely missed. And not to sound dire or anything, but I see a problem in that. New eyes being hypnotized by an old spell that is still working its magic, yet no one seems to see the spell that is actually being cast. To relate, some thoughts regarding the past and its ability to rear its head when the details surrounding a something become clouded or lost in time.
Someday, Radium’s past will possibly be forgotten, and again is likely to be touted as the new big thing as people stare amazed at its glowy properties. Some things, the glowy bits aren’t so immediately obvious. Like lithium. And asbestos. And uranium. And cocaine. And mercury. And lead. And plastic(s). And polytetrafluoroethylene. And polychlorinated biphenyl. And the Atkins diet. And on and on…you get the picture.
Snake oil
Snake…coil
Hrm
-cade
*I’m not Missying you out at all, Clicky… /pats snout… You’re integral…*
*Blue sky thinking, sweetie. Now fetch us a Song to close on. Ta V much…*
*Yeah it was after we remote viewed Popeye together…/lights up… And no I didn’t have time… /drags… to edit it last night, Clicky…*
*/smokes… Well, it’s ready now, so go on, dive in…*
*Oh dear! …/rolls eyes…*
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Some days you just cannot get away from.
Mondays, Fridays, bad days, good days…
they’re written in ink…
maybe even etched in stone.
Some days circle back and hit us again and again.
Today is one of those days.
! HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY 2020 !
Such a grand day here today, and fully representative of a day you plan, plot and prepare for, the anticipation and the excitement builds…
and then it rains
Yep, storms all last night, and today it’s cloudy/overcast, cold, and non-stop drizzling rain. A great day to be outdoors.
What’s that?
Hang on for a second readers…my conscience is speaking to me.
Today is also something else?
Something even more important than Memorial Day?
Something that may be more important than any other day of the year?
Holy SHIT! What in the hell could possibly be the most important day of the year?!?!?
Oh yeah! Now I remember!!!
Really didn’t forget her birthday, just didn’t know really what to do for it. Ya see, doing some writing for her is about all that I can really do, and that kinda sucks because she has to edit it.
“HEY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! HERE’S 10 PAGES OF NONSENSE FOR YOU TO EDIT!”
Not exactly the most…appealing…of birthday gifts. But at the same time, this isn’t supposed to be something for me, it’s supposed to be something for her, and for some reason she enjoys wading through my mess(es). My happiness is irrelevant. So, here it is. My present to her.
/shrug
And yeah, on the conspiratorial calendar, it would appear that “kidnapped children on Mars” appears to be an actual thing…
Kidnapping “resources” really isn’t anything new tho, so the kernel of the idea really isn’t that much of a stretch. Loads of places in the world where kidnapping and hostage taking is a way of life. A way to make a living. Ransoms, slavery, human trafficking, indentured servitude, credit card agreements, mortgages, promissory notes, non-disclosure agreements, EULAs, information collection, employment agreements, pledges of allegiance, oaths, vows, promises, swears, all kinds of ways of putting someone exactly where you want them in order to form a money making enterprise and/or maybe a power structure of some kind.
With you at or near the top of course
Is it really possible that someday people are going to be shipped to Mars?
Sure seems that way
As to why the trip is being made? Welp, that kinda depends largely on the individuals with the money to make the trip. What they do there when they setup shop? No idea. But you must approve of it in some way. You are funding them afterall. You devote your time to perform labor for others in exchange for money, you exchange that money for goods, and that money then goes into hands which can then do whatever in the fuck they want with it. Who are you to tell people what they can and cannot do with their money? If you don’t want them having “pizza parties” on Mars with kidnapped children, then don’t fucking fund the enterprise that’s planning on hosting the party.
They’re humans like you, and they have the same limitations as you. The only time they don’t, is when you empower them to be able to do things you cannot. How in the fuck do you think Christopher Columbus got the bread to fund his expedition? King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain, that’s how. Although we here and now do not live in times of kings and queens in the same ways as in the past. We do things a little differently, and who funds ventures, and how they are funded has changed a bit.
You wanted your piece, and you got it. Problem is, you have to attach yourself to someone else’s coattails to get your piece. But yeah, you got yours, and now they want theirs.
WHEW! This conspiracy shit is fucking nauseating. The places the mind has to go just to point out the obvious? Fucking nauseating.
The shit you stumble across, too, is all over the map.
meta meta meta
I was taking a shower last night, and a certain song popped into my head for some reason.
Uncle Miltie
Weird because the song is only tied to Milton Berle via the music video, and some may be familiar with the song but not the music video. Today, I see this…
Aberrant…behavior…in rodents. Specifically, rats. Hrm…pandemics, and rats. Sounds familiar. Flea circus? S-Pi. Like, spy, spies and spying. Attracted to the darkness. Which, does light that is attracted to and absorbed by the darkness, become darkness? Or does it remain light, ‘cept maybe in a different state. Meh…I’ll get to that and similar thoughts later.
Lots of talk about this nCoV-2019 thingie being a scam. Those who think as much are not wrong in that there are likely to be elements to it which are very much a scam. Red herring(s), false flag(s), diversionary tactics, maneuvering tactics, inflationary tactics, deceptionary tactics, opportunism…
its a goddamn gold rush
Lies being woven right into, and intertwined with, the very same reality where truth(s) also exist.
You didn't read a single one of those definitions...did you?
So now that this lockdown thingie is winding down, the second wave of opportunists are rushing in to get theirs. Unravel the mysteries of the whole, in order to get to the truth. Wait…my bad…you’re looking for lies, not truth. Lies are likely not a good place to find truth. Looking through the lens of lies to see truth?
The possibility exists that you may just be going about this the wrong way.
Silence
Lots of silence. Occasionally interrupted by a strange banging noise. Almost like someone kicking a hibernating machine in order to get it going again.
Dunno if this will make things more clear or more fuzzy, and I also dunno if anyone is even interested, but I thought maybe I’d do a little more on this “outward uniform symmetry from a central point” kind of thought which I talked a bit about in the previous missive. Meaning the bit on how in the fucking hell a certain element could develop simultaneously in distant and remote sectors of space. This is likely a bad idea. “Explaining yourself” is almost always terrible thing to do.
Fuck it. Let's do it
Mainly what I’m thinking is that maybe our ideas about distance(s) always being an accurate component of time. Perhaps some areas of space are older than others, and I’m talking proximate stuff. For example our galaxy is say…10 billion years old, but Andromeda (which is kinda close to us) is 105 trillion years old. Sounds impossible, yeah? Welp, there’s that thing about not only galaxies speeding up, but also that they are supposedly running away.
A: ???
What if, this acceleration were nothing more than a universal method of gaining momentum. We are talking about a fucking shitload of mass. Perhaps in order for an entire galaxy to achieve the momentum required to preserve its mass/energy and/or be economical with its mass/energy, it kinda has to go the long way round in order to gain or maybe even lose momentum. Again, we’re talking about an entire galaxy, and that’s a shitload of mass and a shitload of energy.
Perhaps a galaxy needs to be on a collision course with another galaxy, but in order to do that it has to go out on this long and seemingly convoluted journey in order to intercept. Or maybe it needs to actually avoid colliding with another galaxy. I’m also thinking that perhaps there are some galaxies which may contain life, maybe some that don’t. Beyond that as to which is/is not expendable?
Not a clue
We here have some pretty bizarre ideas as to when and what life is and is not expendable.
Prolly sounds a bit too…”intelligent designy”, eh? I admit I honestly don’t know what to make of either side of any Intelligent Design nor Creator type of debate. Science is burning, smashing and slamming the fuck out of stuff all the time in order to get some mileage out of some available resource, so not sure why that tendency wouldn’t potentially have a much longer timeline than just and only the past few hundred or even past few thousand years, and also not sure of why such behavior would be relegated only to Earth/Terra. Maybe I personally am so fascinated by the concept of ‘The Big Swirl’, that its impossible for me to understand how ‘The Big Bang’ could work on its own.
/shrug
I know the town that I live in isn’t that old. There’s a lot of things here that are much older than this town tho’. Might be a several hundred year old European painting here, maybe some Greek sculptures there, a book. a meteorite, a bone, no telling what. The road out front is new tho. The house is pretty old, the roof is new, and parts of the roof are even newer than the new roof thanks to a storm. Old trees out front, a new tree out back.
How in the hell is all this new and old stuff in such close proximity, and who and how is age determined?
Some days have passed since writing the above, but Roob pointed me towards Merovee today, and a comment there caught my eye regarding
“positrons traveling backwards in time”.
This got me to thinking again about the previous missive, my expansion upon those thoughts here, and I related something to Roob on Twitter regarding some of the more abstract time and times which exist in the same space and spaces at the same time.
“An old man wearing a new hat whilst walking his new puppy along an old path skirted by both young and old trees at the start of a new day at the end of a week in the middle of a month that falls at the beginning of the year in a new year at the end of a decade at the beginning of a century.”
One has to kinda question the age and ages of matter and energy itself. Lotta things to think about tho’. How these things developed, when, where, the concepts of old and new and relative to whom, etc.. Also loads of rules within Science telling us what can and cannot be done, and you have to play by those rules if you wanna play at all. Like a traveler abroad, gotta speak the language if you want to communicate. Kinda ironic that only this morning, a video appeared which seems to hover around the very topic of rules. Imma see if Roob wants to watch it with me.
bbl
That thing there is heavy on the math, light on context, devoid of explanation(except mathematically), and all but abandons the original-ish ideas first proposed in the video.
But hang in there
Maybe think of “the blackbody” as the pupil of your eye, and your eye as “the box”. Then kinda keep your eyes peeled for that “split” between classical physics and quantum physics. I guess the ears might also qualify somewhat as blackbodies. You might even be able to think of all kinds of blackbodies on your body, and if you spend a little time, can likely also think of lots of blackbodies in your own external environment(s). Now all you gotta think about is why certain things might wanna go there.
If “deceptionary” is not a word, it should be.
If “deceptionary tactics” is not a concept, it should be.
Things sometimes seem to “synch” backwards. You have all these weird ideas (like all of the writing above), then something happens to where everything you just thought about/wrote about over the course of several days comes together in weird ways over the course of a coupla hours. I don’t really wanna say “premonition”, because it doesn’t feel like a premonition at all. It’s also not a vindication because it doesn’t feel like that either. Just a strange meshing of certain cogs as seemingly incompatible wheels meet in time.
That’s all I got for now.
Hope your birthday was a great one RooBeeDoo.
The Love Bug image in your post was pretty good.
Perfect, in fact
*There you are, Clicky! I’ve been waiting ages…*
*Yeah, the wavy walls was immense… /stubs butt… No, you stay there, Clicky – I’ll get a Song to finish the post with…*
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