I thought today, Dear Reader, that I would try to recreate a shamble that I posted in 2013 over at – the now defunct – Sync Miss For Him…
*Hmm… /flicks lighter… I prefer ‘him’, Clicky, but hymn sounds like him, so I guess it could be hymn… /lights up…*
Whilst doing so, I hope to connect the connections I made then to some current syncs and themes being exposed/explored by Christopher Knowles and his reader-commentators over at The Secret Sun blog.
Sew let’s start. It started with a Song…
“Strawberry Fields Forever” is a song by the English rock band the Beatles. It was released in February 1967 as a double A-side single with “Penny Lane”. The song was written by John Lennon and credited to the Lennon–McCartney songwriting partnership. Lennon wrote the song in Almería, Spain, where he was filming a role in the anti-war comedy How I Won the War. He drew inspiration from his childhood memories of playing in the garden of Strawberry Field, a Salvation Army children’s home near to where he grew up in Liverpool.
What particularly interested me was the accompanying video that was filmed on the 30th and 31st of January 1967 in the deer park surrounding Knole House in Sevenoaks, Kent. I hadn’t seen it before and I was struck by what occurred to me as the first appearance of a soon to be very famous science fiction character…
*/drags… John Lamb Lash mentioned the connection between the Kubrick‘s ‘HAL’ and the Coptic word ‘Hal’ for Archon simulation, Clicky… /taps ash…*
*Knowles and Knoles has the same root etymology, Clicky… /puffs… ‘knoll‘…*
Knole House is interesting in that it is considered to be a sort of ‘Calendar House’ – 365 rooms, 52 staircases, 12 entrances and seven courtyards. I was a little surprised to find a ‘Cade‘ reference alongside ‘Fiennes/Fine/Feyn‘ in the early history of the house. It would be fair to say that observation wouldn’t have meant anything at all to me back in 2013, when crafting the original shambles…
Christopher Knowles over at The Secret Sun has for the past 9 months been following a rich seam of syncs surrounding the life, loves and music of the singer Elizabeth Fraser of Cocteau Twins…
‘The Frasers are believed to have come from Anjou in France. The name Fraser may be derived from Fredarius, Fresel or Freseau. Another suggestion is that the Frasers were a tribe in Roman Gaul, whose badge was a strawberry plant (fraisier in French). The first Fraser to appear in Scotland was in about 1160 when Simon Fraser held lands at Keith in East Lothian .’
1638, bright northern star, the alpha of Lyra, from Arabic (Al Nasr) al Waqi translated variously as “the eagle of the desert” or “the falling vulture” (or bird).
*Las Vegas and a vulture… /puffs… That fucking ad is on my Twitter feed constantly at the moment, Clicky…/snorts smoke…*
*/raises eyebrows… In-fallible with a strawberry, Clicky… Interesting… /final drag…*
‘The garden strawberry was first bred in Brittany, France, in the 1750s via a cross of Fragaria virginiana from eastern North America and Fragaria chiloensis, which was brought from Chile by Amédée-François Frézier in 1714. Cultivars of Fragaria × ananassa have replaced, in commercial production, the woodland strawberry (Fragaria vesca), which was the first strawberry species cultivated in the early 17th century.’
I had a bit of a ‘Mandela Effect’ myself this week, when I read that the dad in the sitcom ‘Frasier’, John Ma-honey, had died…
*That’s where I knew him from! …/sucks teeth… To be honest, I thought he was already dead, Clicky… /stubs butt…*
*Ah, a grey crowned crane… They did an episode with a crane…*
Frasier remains one of my favourite comedies and I still watch clips of it on YT. The pilot episode ‘The Good Son‘ was probably the most perfect pilot episode ever made, introducing the main characters practically fully formed… Touched by an Angell…
Anyhoo, I’m sure I’ve missed out loads from my original shamble, but I hope you’ve enjoyed this one all the same. Doo go and have a perusal of The Secret Sun’s scribblings; it’s completely fascinating. In fact there is a new post up now, so that’s my early evening sorted 😉
Enjoy the coming week, Dear Reader, and… Have a Song 😀
Earlier on today I finished a shamble that ended somewhere different to where I imagined it would when I first started constructing it. Namely, this week’s fall in the Dow and Shake Sphere’s Marc Anthony quote…
“Cry ‘Havoc!’, and let slip the Dogs Of War.”
Julius Caesar: Act 3, Scene 1, line 273
… And I’d seen reference to Julius Caesar just the day before…
*Caesar… seizure… seize her… Faint heart never won fair lady, Clicky… /winks and lights up…*
early 15c., from the expression cry havoc “give the signal to pillage” (Anglo-French crier havok, late 14c.). Havok, the signal to soldiers to seize plunder, is from Old French havot “pillaging, looting” (in crier havot), which is related to haver “to seize, grasp,” hef “hook,” probably from a Germanic source (see hawk (n.)), or from Latin habere “to have, possess.” General sense of “devastation” first recorded late 15c.
c. 1300, hauk, earlier havek (c. 1200), from Old English hafoc (West Saxon), heafuc (Mercian), heafoc, “hawk,” from Proto-Germanic *habukaz (source also of Old Norse haukr, Old Saxon habuc, Middle Dutch havik, Old High German habuh, German Habicht“hawk”), from PIE root *kap-“to grasp” (source also of Russian kobec“a kind of falcon”). Transferred sense of “militarist” attested from 1956, probably based on its opposite, dove.
I mentioned as much to Cade whilst we were DMing on Twitter on Tuesday night. I couldn’t remember if Apollo and Artemis’s mother was Leda (seduced by Zeus transformed as a swan) or Leto…
*Um, that’s the actor called Leto, Clicky… /drags… Actually, thinking about it, the Joker’s girlfriend ‘Harley Quinn’ is play on ‘harlequin’, a character originating from Commedia dell’ARTe…*
*Oh it’s ‘Lord of Illusions’… /puffs steadily… *
*Interesting… /taps ash… from the earlier link, Artemis and Apollo’s mother, Leto, is associated with wolves…*
early 15c., “meat or fish market,” from schamil“table, stall for vending” (c. 1300), from Old English scamol, scomul“stool, footstool” (also figurative); “bench, table for vending,” an early Proto-Germanic borrowing (Old Saxon skamel“stool,” Middle Dutch schamel, Old High German scamel, German schemel, Danish skammel “footstool”) from Latin scamillus“low stool, a little bench,” ultimately a diminutive of scamnum“stool, bench,” from PIE root *skabh-“to prop up, support.” In English, sense evolved from “place where meat is sold” to “slaughterhouse” (1540s), then figuratively “place of butchery” (1590s), and generally “confusion, mess” (1901, usually in plural).
*******
The above was written on Wednesday evening, Dear Reader, but then I got diverted preparing for a job interview, and undertaking day-to-day generalities like ironing, washing, cooking, sleeping, working and reading others’ blog posts.
It is now Friday lunchtime and I cannot remember where the fuck I intended this shamble to end up, so I’ll let it go where it will…
Top Called: Apollo's Josh Harris Sells $153 Million Stake | Zero Hedge https://t.co/Ua6KIGT1ci
‘The idiom the straw that broke the camel’s back, alluding to the proverb “it is the last straw that breaks the camel’s back”, describes the seemingly minor or routine action which causes an unpredictably large and sudden reaction, because of the cumulative effect of small actions.’
Lots to cover in this Sat ‘ere day post, Dear Reader. First, let’s start with a ridiculous ‘camel’ item of news that crossed my twitter feed yesterday…
‘A camel beauty contest in Saudi Arabia has been rocked by scandal after 12 ships of the desert were disqualified because their owners had used Botox on them.
‘Prize money for the Miss Camel contest runs into millions of pounds, making the temptation to cheat irresistible for some.’
*A camel walk instead of cat-walk eh, Clicky? …/lights up…*
‘Competitors in the beauty contest are rated on, amongst other things, the size of their lips and cheeks, which is where the illicit use of Botox comes in.’
Generally botox, a highly toxic substance, is known for being used cosmetically to remove wrinkles in the upper third of the face. But wrinkles around the mouth? Well, that leads me onto the ridiculous ‘straw’ item of news that I saw yesterday, Dear Reader. Time for a ‘selfie’, this taken in the Blue universe of Frank Davis and his post ‘Obsession‘…
So let me get this straight: waiting staff, the very people smokers were thrown out onto the street to ‘save’, can now be fined $1,000 and/or jailed for providing customers with an unsolicited plastic straw…
*/deep drag… Hmm… Desert ships and an angry octopus, Clicky? …/thinks… Octo-pussy? …/*
*Ha! /streams smoke… Bonded… /taps ASH… The baddie crashes the plane… /sucks on cig…*
Funnily enough, following the last LoL post, Cade has did indeed written a music review, and one of the albums both he and his son, Poncho, reviewed was Lunar Womb by The Obsessed…
*/cough… It’s not my kind of music I’m afraid, Clicky, but I’ll accept Poncho’s word that “If Black Sabbath fucked Black Flag’s attitude after smoking a fat ass J, you have this album”… /continues puffing… Fascinating reading though…*
I also rewatched The Zero Theorem last night, Dear Reader. Cade watched it as well as he’d never seen it. He wasn’t around on MEROVEE in March 2014, when just posting the trailer for the film turned the Red universe of Frank and commentators upside down…
“neutral particle smaller than a neutron,” 1934, from Italian neutrino, coined 1933 by Italian physicist Enrico Fermi from neutro“neuter” (see neuter (adj.)) + -ino, diminutive suffix.
neuter (adj.)
late 14c., of grammatical gender, “neither masculine nor feminine,” from Latin neuter“of the neuter gender,” literally “neither one nor the other,” from ne-“not, no” (from PIE root *ne-“not”) + uter“either (of two)” (see whether). Probably a loan-translation of Greek oudeteros“neither, neuter.” In 16c., it had the sense of “taking neither side, neutral.”
neuter (v.)
1903, from neuter (adj.). Originally in reference to pet cats. Related: Neutered; neutering.
*Another straw, Clicky? Or Catty Newman…/smirks… the culture of ‘zero tolerance’ is inherently weak… /final drag… it has never learnt to tolerate… /shrugs…*
And speaking of neutral, I spotted a familiar face, topped with straw coloured hair on a bus in the film. I hadn’t spotted before, and it synced with another news story I read yesterday that involved a Swiss church. In the film, Qohen lives in an fire damaged church…
‘Scientists in the Swiss city of Basel have solved a decades-old mystery over the identity of a mummified woman.
‘Their research revealed a surprise: the woman is the great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother of UK Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson.
‘The body was uncovered in 1975 while renovations were being done on Basel’s Barfüsser Church.’
*And another camel, Clicky …/stubs butt…*
‘Now the scientists and the historians were sure: the mummy was none other than Anna Catharina Bischoff. Born in Basel in 1719, she died there in 1787.
‘Once her identity had been established, genealogists were able – with the help of the efficient records of births, marriages, and deaths which tend to be kept by the wealthier classes – to trace more of Anna Catharina’s descendants.
‘She had seven children. Only two survived childhood, but one daughter, also Anna, married a certain Christian Hubert Baron Pfeffel von Kriegelstein. Five generations of von Pfeffels later, and we find Marie Luise von Pfeffel marrying one Stanley Fred Williams.
‘Their daughter Yvonne married Osman Wilfred Johnson Kemal… and their son, Stanley Johnson, is British Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson’s father.’
Enjoy your weekend, Dear Reader ❤ … And have a Song… 😉
*No, Clicky…/drags… Lovely as the animation is… /blows smoke… I was thinking about the memo… the one about all the collusion… /puffs… Honestly! Could only ‘appen under Trump! …/taps ASH…*
*Oh course! Elephants have phenomenal memories, Clicky… /pats snout…*
early 15c., from Latin memorandum“(thing) to be remembered,” neuter singular of memorandus“worthy of remembrance, noteworthy,” gerundive of memorare“to call to mind,” from memor “mindful of” (see memory). Originally a word written at the top of a note, by 1540s it came to stand for the note itself. The Latin plural is memoranda. Compare also agenda.
…Coupled with the trailer of a movie I saw earlier on Twitter. To be released this summer, a prequel sequel in the story of Donna and Sophie…
*Frank? Witch one? RedandBlue? …/grins… And John the letter writer. Knot to mention Clarence from Clare that’s so Shining, Clicky… /drags…*
‘The three prisoners were serving sentences for bank robbery when they executed their escape plan using stolen spoons, dummy heads and a raincoat raft. Their exploits were turned into the 1979 movie “Escape from Alcatraz,” starring Clint Eastwood as Morris.
‘U.S. Marshal Michael Dyke, who inherited the unsolved case in 2003, told The Associated Press in 2012 that he didn’t know whether any members of the trio were still alive. But he had seen enough evidence to make him wonder.
‘That evidence included credible reports that the Anglins’ mother, for several years, received flowers delivered without a card, and that the brothers attended her 1973 funeraldisguised in women’s clothes despite a heavy FBI presence.’
Now, if you’ve been paying attention, Dear Reader, employing your ‘Clicky’ to full potential in navigating this shambles, the pics Cade ‘grabbed’, well, quite simply they blew my socks off…
Cade sent across another missive last night, Dear Reader, and I’m delighted to present it for your perusal, below.
I believe the Okie Devil was inspired to write it by the Bayeux Tapestry, and the news that it could be leaving France for the first time in 950 years, to be displayed in the UK…
There was much argument during the medieval period as to whether #Bayeux was actually a Christmas Tapestry. pic.twitter.com/OndmZsmdxE
*/drags… He’s not wrong… /streams smoke… I LOVE that album…*
*******
GET YOUR SHIT WIRED TIGHT…AND THEN WE’LL TALK!!!
Is this the dogma of “The West”?
Is this the dogma of “business”?
Is this the dogma of “government”?
Surely this cannot be the dogma of government. If someone has their shit together, the government should have no business whatsoever with me.
Oh really?
How do they know “your shit is wired tight”?
GET YOUR SHIT WIRED TIGHT…OR ELSE!!!
IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER…WE’RE GONNA HAVE A TALK!!!
Everything, about all of those, says…
“AWAY!!!”
Go away.
Stay away.
Stay back.
Keep back.
Back away.
And don't stop until you fall off the planet.
^Crystal Chakra Meditation 1 Hour^
I just saw one of those “vanishing Tweets” and was about to comment on it, but it disappeared. A shame too, because it was interesting. I guess I’ll have to do my own homework…so let’s get to it!
The Tweet was about The Bayeux Tapestry, and the Tweet contained a picture of a news story, and the headline asserted that…
“The tapestry is a great historical so-and-so about The Battle of Hastings”
…then asked the question:
“…but is it any good.”
I was only allowed to see the Tweet for a moment, because when I went to start writing my comment, I got a pop-up that said…
“You may not be able to complete this action”
…so I refreshed my page to see if something had gone wack with my browser, but when the page finished refreshing, the Tweet was gone.
Now…I’ve noticed quite a few “disappearing Tweets” from this particular user. But before we get too hung up on “the commercial aspects/angles” and/or “social/political/personal implications” of someone deleting Tweets, let’s pick a better, more juicy target to pick on…
I don’t have the text of the Tweet, but as soon as I saw the headline, and thought about what I thought the headline said, it got me to IMMEDIATELY thinking…
”DUDE!!! You read ALL of that shit completely…fucking…WRONG!!!”
But before I get to picking on myself too much, let me tell you the first thing that popped into my head upon reading the Tweet…
“The Bayeux Tapestry is going up for sale.”
The Tweet did not contain a link to the story, which is why I was going to comment at all. I figured that the author of the Tweet had given all of the information they cared to give, and was hoping that someone would engage with them based on the facts presented. And what were the facts presented?
Screen-shot image of story,
Tweet text comment from user, which included a reference to “1066”.
I recall “1066” being in the text of the Tweet, but that’s all I recall. The rest of the contents is kinda…fuzzy…but I remember the overall vibe of the text. So…having watched this particular user for a while, let’s now go back, and see if they’ve made a new Tweet with the same contents.*
*My thinking at this point is, they forgot something, deleted the Tweet, and will make a new Tweet with the missing/corrected whatever.
At the time of this writing, it shows that the tweet was made 21 minutes ago, which means that it took me 21 minutes to think about, and write, all that bullshit above. No fucking wonder I don’t write for a living. I digress.
The text of the above tweet is different from the text of the original Tweet. At this point, I am half-tempted to DM the user, and ask her if she would be so kind as to provide me with the text of the original Tweet.
But I'm not going to do that.
I’m going to do what I normally do, which is blunder around in the dark, and do the best that I can with what I have. This may sound egotistical, but the only thing that I really have, is me. A dark, dense, blundering, blabbering me, and the bright flashes that come from elsewhere/others. I take those flashes from others, mold them into something my own, and hopefully, flash back. Who sees these “flashes” of mine?
/me shrugs
No idea. In my mind, that’s not quite the point. “The point” is to be inspired, and further inspire.
/me shrugs again
^Florence + The Machine – Dog Days Are Over (2010 Version)^
All videos have stopped working for me on Twitter. Embedded videos no longer work, and I can no longer save images by right-clicking and choosing “save-as”. Now that I think about it, right-clicking on anything gives me nothing at all. My pop-up menu functionality within Twitter seems to have been removed. I can’t even intentionally click on a pic or vid and get it to work.
I admit that the auto-play bullshit irritates the fuck out of me, because most of my time on Twitter is spent with a DM chat window open. If I open that DM window, and there is some looping shit embedded and playing behind that DM window, then eventually, Twitter dies, and it usually takes my browser(s) with it. And if I remember to scroll to where there are no vids behind the DM window, I also have to make sure that I have hidden any auto-playing streaming bullshit in the sidebar.
That said, Twitter still crashes all the fucking time, and it is a fucking resource hog, but I must point out, that this is the price of automating and automation. If you want shit to do everything for you…there’s a price to pay for that.
I gotta think tho, that if shit like this isn’t an indication,that Twitter is doing something about these perceived “problems” that Twitter has, you just aren’t looking. And if you customize the living shit out of your Twitter to work for you and only you, then you’ll have no idea what others may be seeing/not seeing, nor how they are seeing it.
To be fair, I’m running an operating system that is no longer supported, and using a browser that is no longer supported/no longer updated, all running on a computer that is no longer supported.
If that ain’t some “Logan’s Run” type shit, I don’t know what is.
GET UPDATED, OR GTFO GRANDPA!!!
STFU AND STFD ON YOUR WAY OUT OLD MAN!!!
😐
^Massive Attack – Angel^
Let’s get back to this tapestry/Tweet. I went to Google, searched for “the bayeux tapestry” (without quotes) and there were three news stories at the top of the results.
When I clicked on the second story link, the headline on the story itself was different from the headline that Google was showing in its results. The headline in Google’s results was…
“Why the Bayeux Tapestry’s loan to Britain is a homecoming”.
Isn’t that “bait and switch” kinds of shit? Grab you with one thing, then switch it to something else? Like…”a funhouse” at a carnival. Many times, there’s not much fun going on in a funhouse. Anyway…I found the story that I was looking for, have now found that there is a new Tweet that replaced the deleted one, so what is left?
A: Me.
Me, me, me, and only me, surrounded by a bunch of shit that isn’t mine, and I’m left with only:
A) what I take away from this experience, and
B) what I do with it from there.
What possible good could come from some uneducated and unemployed loser, spending is “free time” contemplating “the dynamics of the world”? I dunno. That’s not my job. That’s your job. I only work here.
Q: Is there some “omen” associated with “The Bayeux Tapestry” coming to England?
A: Or did I just make that shit up?
The process of trying to understand confusing shit, while looking at confusing shit…is…confusing. That said, why would you ever think that “confusion” would be clear? Is where we are, so contextually clear, that it’s confusing?
Clarity = Clear
Confusion = Confusing
Did I word/list those correctly?
^Junkie XL – Dark Territory^
OK, I guess I didn’t make that “omen” shit up…
‘Although there is no direct connection between typical celestial events and the affairs of humans, our superstitions have resulted in many dramatic consequences.’
So what is the connection? I dunno. History is history. If you are looking for and to history, as some sort of roadmap to the future? Yeah…you might be missing some shit. Primarily, what are you going to do when the road ends? What you are going to do when you tumble off the map? That’s, when you are prolly going to start looking around for signs and wonders. Something…ANY–fucking-thing to give you some clue as to where you went wrong…
what went wrong…
where you are…
where to go from there.
If you’ve got compatriots along for the ride, there’s prolly going to be some pissing and moaning.
Just sayin'.
^Junkie XL – Today (UNKLE Remix)^
Getting back to my thoughts about “The Bayeux Tapestry being sold”…there’s a few things that come to mind…
I’ve no fucking clue where it is, nor who owns it,
Is it possible, that once it gets to where it is going, that it will never leave there?
SURELY no one is stupid enough to try and steal it.
So…given the fact that I know fuck all about this tapestry, why would “It’s Going On The Market” be the first thing to pop into my head? Prolly because that’s about the only time that “art” is in the news. Which… isn’t writing an art? Or at least, an art form? Both? Is there some sort of artisan pissing contest going on there?
But let’s say, that there is some political wrangling going on. Now, what could that be about? Brexit? Political favors being exchanged? Surely thieves would not be stupid enough to wait until the tapestry was actually on British soil to steal it. I guess that would depend largely on “who the thieves are”…wouldn’t it? What are those rules about making political statements?
It must be public, and brutal.
Some scapegoats and/or patsys would prolly come in handy as well.
Now I remember why I don’t like thinking like this.
NowI remember why I don’t like writing fiction.
^Junkie XL – Tennis^
Thinking now about the year 1066, thinking about Haley’s Comet which last appeared in 1986, thinking about the year 2066, and considering that it is currently 2018, let’s go backwards a bit and see what was going on in the year 1018.
WHEW!!! That’s some fucked-up shit right there!!! It started off with peace, then went straight to hell. Even so, that January peace? If they found peace in January of 1018, doesn’t that mean that someone was at war in 1017?
^AWOLNATION – Run (Audio)^
What I am primarily thinking about, is a book idea that I have. This book has been bumping around in my head for a very long time, and it’s called “1033”. Or, it will be, should I ever actually write the fucking thing.
It’s the story, of a dude born in 1967, and this dude manages to survive a fuckton of adversity that no one said he would survive, and somehow lives to see the year 2000. Not only that, the guy goes on to live to see the year 2100. Even more fantastic than that? He goes on to see the year 3000. Hence, 1033. The story, is about the stories that this guy tells, how he tells them, who he tells them to, and why. A traveler. A time-traveler, yes…but a different kind of time traveler. Or at least, his travels here and now are a shade different. Where does it go from 3000 C.E.? Welp…that’s where things get reallyfucking interesting.
Heh...heh...heH.
Enough of that bullshit…let’s get back to reality. Once we get back to reality, we can talk about data preservation, data retention, and legacy.
^Junkie XL – dealing with the roster^
I’m writing this bullshit in OpenOffice’s Writer application, and this is WAY fucking different than writing shit in MS WordPad. The text is fucking HUGE, and I’ve not found the courage to try and tinker with the settings so that everything on the screen isn’t so goddamn massive.
The other thing that is irritating, is that Writer turns all URLs into hyperlinks automatically. Well, only if you use a hard return after pasting in the text of a URL. I personally arrow around a lot when navigating around a document. Meaning: when and where I can, I use the arrow keys on the keyboard to get around. Prevents me from having to use the mouse. The mouse is fucking GREAT for some computer uses. Surfing the web is one, but for text and/or documents?
Nope.
If you want to push your “skillz” try and challenge yourself to surf The Web without using the mouse. It can be done. You’re going to have to learn a fuckton of keyboard commands and hotkeys, but that’s the point…learning. That shit is there for a reason. Computer engineers aren’t idiots, and they certainly aren’t stupid. Just because you get to benefit from the simplicity of a mouse click and/or hotkey combination, doesn’t mean that the engineers who designed that functionality didn’t spend a fucking FUCKTON of time developing the systems and procedures that made that key-combo and/or mouse click such a simplicity for you. I can assure you, they did, and they do. All so you can better do all of that hard complex shit that you need to do in order to get your job done.
I read through it last night, and it got me to thinking about “compression”. I didn’t comment over there, but I thought about it as I laid in bed and tried to go to sleep last night, and now here I am commenting about it here.
That last bit messed with my head a bit. I was thinking on expansion from a Universal perspective regarding a Galactic context. Meaning: A Galaxy expanding within a Universe that is neither expanding nor contracting. Prolly some speed considerations to be made there, and some time(s) considerations to be made as well.
If the Universe and A Galaxy are both expanding at the same time, there is prolly going to need to be some synchronious/synchronous timings to accommodate both, as well as some asynchronious/asynchronous timings to offset. How can an offset amend?
My thinking is that sometimes, you need to simultaneously know not only how fast you are going, but also how fast you are NOT going. Why? Simple. Observers. There’s more to sensing and senses than just and only sight.
^Hans Zimmer – Inception (Junkie XL Remix)^
If you are looking for something definitive, congrats…you’re there.
Welcome To Here...Population = You.
^deadmau5 – FML Again^
Last night, Whatshername made some grub, she notified as to its availability, and I wandered into the kitchen to feed my fat face. As I was poking at the lumpy wads of rice that remained in the rice cooker, I overheard my daughter talking about…erm…politics. Like…personal politics. Within her circle of friends, it appears that there was an exclusive gathering, and some within the circle were not invited. This caused those not invited some dismay, and Whatshername commented something to the effect of…
“Well, you know they are all very clicky.”
My youngest son was sitting at the table eating/listening, and he asked “what is ‘clicky’?”
Whatshername replied, “They’ve all got their own little groups, within the group, and these little groups are very clicky, meaning they only hang out with each other, and the rules of the larger group don’t apply to them.”
It turns out that this “group that gathered” was/is headed by the very person who makes the rules for the large group/whole group, and that rule is…
“no fraternizing in groups/sub-groups outside of the whole group”.
So…when this same person actually had a get together, and only invited a select few of the whole group, those not invited were…confused.
I loaded my plate as fast as possible, and retreated to my room.
^deadmau5 – It’s Not You^
I was gonna write some more bullshit, but I’m now at 7 pages, so I’m gonna dial it back, then cut it off. I usually just write until I don’t feel like writing anymore, then look at the physical file size to determine how large the post is going to be.
15k to 20k = meh
20k to 25k = average
25k to 30k = beefy
30k+ = wtf?!?!??!
What could POSSIBLY be on my mind, that I needed to write so much?
But this is my first post written in OpenOffice Writer, so, I’m trying to be mindful of that “page x/x” thingie down in the bottom left-hand corner.
*Yeah… /final drag… A brilliant film, Clicky… /stubs butt… That was another Sunday evening trip to the pictures with Mother… /licks lips… It was absolutely pissing it down that night…*
*Thank fuck, Poppy tweeted that to us last night, Clicky… /lights up… Or I’d have been completely bolloxed for a post title… /drags…*
Last night, Cade FON Apollyon, a.k.a. The Unseen Synchro, a.k.a The Okie Devil of Text Us asked me and Poppy Sweet Pea to provide him with some words, from which he would write a poem…
Said poem is contained within Cade’s latest missive, below…
*That’s right, Clicky… /blows smoke ring… down there…*
Dear Reader… Enjoy! ❤
*******
Someone might enjoy this.
^Iron Maiden – Behind The Beast^
I once wrote a certain poem,
but can’t recall what it said.
So now here it sits aching,
bouncing round in my head.
Wrote some parts down, that had a certain sound.
Certain parts rhymed, other parts timed.
One part climbed,
another piece descended.
Don’t recall where it all started,
nor even if anything ended.
There must be a way in, to the place to begin.
First…to find out how, my way out of…now.
Some thoughts run free and freely,
others disappear in a stare.
Some are likely gone forever,
a few are written down somewhere.
Take out the trash, Danish mash.
Write it down, or face the frown.
There’s one part I tried to remember,
but cannot recall the details.
Likely a something of beauty,
perhaps bunny rabbits, wasps, or snails.
Formulaic attributes, proxy gaps and substitutes.
Removed this line, I’m sure it was fine.
Does she really exist out there,
or am I being silly…a dupe.
Like some sort of prize or plunder,
a cold journey that ends with hot soup.
You’ll be there, when you are there.
You were there, you aren’t there.
This end of that one here now,
the end of this one a time later.
I’ve forgotten what this one was about,
perhaps I’ll remember it…
^The Bloody Beetroots – Detroit (Ghetto Edit)^
What a bunch of fucking weirdos.
^1977 TV Synthesizer Special^
If you thought that shit was weird, check THIS shit out.
^1969 World’s First Electronic Pop Song^
All of the people in the above two vids are either all:
A) dead from disease, or
B) all strung out on drugs while waiting to be dead from disease.
I read a lot of facts and figures, and those facts and figures are very clear…everyone is either dead, or about to be. Seriously. You are either dead, or about to be, and you are either on drugs, or about to be.
Lots of information and facts and figures floating around that prove this to be correct. A lot of these political Tweets are fucking weird. The ones that are always tell people to stand up? What does that even mean, other than you telling me I’m already down. Not only are you telling me I’m already down…you are telling me I need to get up off my lazy ass and do something for you, because you said so.
How do you get everyone aboard the same train?
What’s that? You don’t want everyone on the same train?
I thought you wanted to be first.
If you want to be first, that means you need everyone on the same train.
^Best soviet electronic music^
Are animals incompetent?
^Kraftwerk – Roboter 1978^
I was out front letting my youngest son’s dog get some fresh air. It’s 57°F/13°C, the sun is shining, and is generally awesome. But she refused to come back in, so I had to chase her around the front yard a bit. When I finally got her to come back towards the door so I could let her in, I reached up to open the door, and noticed there was a critter on my foot. I brought my foot up, then gently blew the winged critter off my foot, and they landed on the concrete porch.
I let the dog in, then began to retreat inwards myself, when I noticed that the ant – yes, it was a winged ant – was still sitting in the same place/had not flown off. I suddenly became worried, as the ant was sitting right in the big, fucking middle of the porch. Were anyone else to come in or out through the door, they won’t know the ant is sitting there, and would likely step on the ant. So the question becomes…
Q: What do I do?
A: Whatever I do.
I tried to give the ant a shade of encouragement to move by bending down and blowing on it, but it sensed the sudden increase in hurricane force winds, and hung on for dear life to the concrete of the porch. I wonder if there is a something to be learned there about methods we employ to get others to do what we want?
^Junkie XL — Crusher.. High quality.^
I think this is the last whatever that I’m going to write in MS WordPad. Yep…even tho I downloaded and installed OpenOffice over a month ago, I’m still using MS WordPad to write these things. WordPad really doesn’t offer much in the way of formatting: there’s no spellcheck, no fancy editing tools, and it takes me a level of two of washing this shit before I actually send it over to Roob for her to do whatever she does with it.
But I think I’m starting to feel a shade better about my formatting peccadilloes, and how better to use them to mold what I am trying to say, as I am saying it. My reason for doing this is quite simple, and that is so that I don’t go back and read something that I’m going to regret having written, and not have spent more time or formatting and editing. I mean, in life, when we say things, we don’t get second chances. You gotta say the right thing, at the right time, and you’ve got to say it right the first time, and every time, forever amen.
Practice makes perfect.
Repetition, repetition, repetition.
Practice makes perfect.
Repetition, repetition, repetition.
Practice repetition makes repetition perfect repetition.
^Morrissey – Break up the Family^
I just saw a pretty cool Tweet, that was cool, because it had leaves in it. There was a really cool star made out of sticks and twine, and I had some thoughts on that too, but what really interested me was the leaves. Dunno bout choo, but I love picking up leaves and looking at them. Well, leaves that have fallen. Leaves on the tree are best observed where they are, but I’ve been known to pick them.
Anyway, I love to look at leaves, check out the patterns, think about how they developed and why, make crazy assumptions about how these patterns suit needs in many ways, etc., etc.. But with respect to the leaves in this particular picture, what I got to thinking about was…
“how in the FUCK do those leaves look so nice?”
I can’t get a super close look at the leaves, but they certainly aren’t crushed…so how in the fuck did someone go out and collect a bunch of leaves without crushing them? OR…is that part of the ritual? Just…go out and grab a fuckton of leaves, cram em’ all into a bag, then sort the shit when you get home. Crushed ones here, uncrushed ones there.
Le YIKES!!! Sounds like a metaphor for pre-dating and post-dating romantic encounters.
^World On Fire (Junkie XL Club Mix)^
Not that you particularly care, but where my mind was buzzing around today was/is medicine.
Q: Is medical infrastructure medicine?
A: ?¿?
The only way to get everyone on board, is to cover all needs, up to and including, not needing at all. Giving your share away, because you don’t need it, but someone else does, and if they don’t now, they will later.
I wonder who that someone might be?
Anyway, there’s been a lot of things I’ve seen lately, that would appear to have nothing at all to do with medicine/standardized medicine, but they do. Lemme see if I can find some, that way we’ve got an audit trail, and proof, and other cool shit like that.
^Infusion — Legacy (Junkie XL Remix)^
Here’s an example…
We cannot allow the continuation of a pattern whereby profits of companies remain in the private sphere, while their losses hit the public purse. Bailing out companies with little to no conditionality will encourage a cycle of corporate welfare, and the state pays the price.
Refusal of need(s) means that the relationship is over…right? If you don’t get what you need, when you need it, DIVORCE!!!
Everything must remain the same forever, or face elimination. It’s the only way. Can’t discern and discriminate until everything is the same, which allows us to discover our differences, and eliminate them.
OK, I’ll stop trying to be clever in my digging, and put it like this: If I’m married, and looking forward to sex with my wife tonight, but that afternoon she gets hit by a car and winds up in the hospital, can I still fuck her in the hospital bed?
I mean, assuming that she still wants to fuck. Or do I need to take a rain-check? Does she need to take a rain-check? What if she is insistent that I fuck her, because she fears it may be the last chance we get to do so? Or is the hospital going to have an opinion too? Is that an additional price of medical care? Do it my way, or else?
— Scott Anthony🇺🇸⚖️JUSTICE🇺🇸 (@ScottAnthonyUSA) January 14, 2018
What could some “missile alert” have to do with medical care? Welp…if a war starts, a shitload of people are going to need a fuckton of band-aids.
Who is gonna make them?
Where are they getting their supplies?
Who is going to ship them?
Who is going to apply them?
And on, and on, and on...
Supposedly, our President said something recently about “the button” now being his own personal property. Dunno how that transfer of ownership happened, but that’s what I personally took away from the “my button is bigger than his” bit, or whatever it was.
And another...
The Scientific society needs a reformation where real scientists distance themselves from phony government "climate science." It will take years, but beeing connected to the scam will ultimately discredit the players. pic.twitter.com/yV2TziEDl4
As best I can tell, all of these things hover around continuance, and weave in and out of all kinds of other applications. Dunno bout you, but to me, that says someone is doing some weaving. Who? Does that matter? Do you care that you have a blanket when you need it, or is who made it important? We want everything to stay the same, and the only way to accomplish that, is change and changes.
Makes sense.
^Le Couleur – Femme^
/begin poem
The bells…they hang silent, and scream.
But no one listens to them anymore.
/end poem
^Sub Focus – X-Ray (Metrik Remix)^
When I start seeing the same Tweets over and over, coming from different people, does that mean that I have enough friends that I can dump one in favor of the other? I mean, who needs two friends that are damn near identical? Dump one, keep the other. They both regurgitate the same bullshit, so no big loss if I lose one. Losing weight is always popular.
^Jonathan Bree – You’re So Cool^
I’m not implying that “standardized medicine” is going to start producing standardized people, but it might contribute to the productionof standardized people. I guess it all depends on how we look at things, and what we want to get out of them. Things are only worth a flying fuck, when and if they put out. If they don’t? Fuck ’em.
^boy pablo – Everytime^
I had to bring the trash in. I took it out this morning, but someone forgot that today is MLK‘s birthday, so I had to bring it back in. If it sits out in the alley for the next 3 days, it’ll get torn to shreds by stray dogs, cats, squirrels, opossums, skunks, and God knows what else.
Plus, yet again, the temperature has been dropping all day, and it’s supposedly supposed to snow @ 20:00/8:00 pm tonight. It’s currently 48°F/10°C, so we’ve got a ways to go if it’s going to snow. My “news” came via Whatshername, so I just went to check the weather, and I saw nothing about snow, and it’s not supposed to get cold till tomorrow. That said, it has gotten cloudy as fuck outside, and the wind is blowing pretty good.
Definitely feels like change is changing.
^Detlef – JayDee^
/begin end
Here is where we ended this rhyme…upon this fancy dish.
The method could take some time…to feast upon this fish.
I’ll bang upon this wordy chime…something simple but cute.
Silence is the realm of the mime…so says the mute.
Something made of wheat…something filled with slime.
Cooked lovingly into a meat…and when eaten tastes sublime.
Climb upon this giving mound…climb to your summit I climb.
Howls in pain this foolish hound…my bonds downgraded to subprime.
/end end
I asked two different people for 8 words that rhymed, in 4 sets of 2 words each.
Below is what I got…
Person A: Fish – Dish, Wheat – Meat, Hound – Mound, Cute – Mute
Person B: chime, climb, rhyme, slime, time, mime, subprime, sublime
There’s always a fucking smart ass 😉
Anyway, I used those 16 words, and created that nonsense above. Hence, where it ended, is actually where it began, but not really. Anyway, thanks to you ladies for playing along.
❤
^Leftwing & Kody – What You Sayin^
It’s against my religion to ask others to assist me in any poetry writing efforts. And yet, for some reason, I asked for assistance. I guess I don’t like my religion anymore, and needed a way out. NOBODY leaves a religion on good terms…
...do they?
Maybe that’s where a lot of this weirdness and confusion comes from. Do I really need to be in church every fucking time the doors are open? If a church closes down because I didn’t show up, maybe that church needed to close. We’ve got churches every-fucking-where here. These seminaries are pumping out clergy, year after year, and they’ve got to have somewhere to go…right? Need a flock to lead?
Can't have shepherds without sheep.
And supposedly, America is motherfucking STOCKED with sheep. Which…did you see that Tweet up there about increasing sales of lamb? Um…ever thought that maybe…instead of slaughtering a fuckton of sheep like your life depended on it, maybe let a cull slide here and there. Doing without on occasion, might help us better deal with what it’s like, to forget what it is like, to be fat and happy.
PLUS!!!…it’ll give some reprieves to some little lambs that might be looking for a longer-term shepherd.
…and it got me to thinking about a brief conversation that I had with a certain someone about Twitter execs supposedly snooping on their users.
First of all, there is a line of thinking, where certain people attempt to…erm…“take their destiny into their own hands” by joining the machine that monitors. They do this, thinking that they can somehow transcend the monitors and monitoring, by joining the club. But I got a question about “ascension”, irrespective of when and how it occurs…
Q: Now what?
A: !!!
Yeah…did you remember to take a parachute with you? If so, did you pack it yourself, because just because you aren’t being monitored today, doesn’t mean you aren’t going to be monitored tomorrow.
I’m not proposing a defeatist attitude towards people taking things that don’t belong to them, nor people snooping on others just because they can. But if you took the time to watch the video above from 1969 where the people were dancing to the “Pop Corn” song, you’ll notice that their rhythm was allover the fucking place. Some fast, some slow, some trying to dance this way, others trying to dance that way…adjusting to something new. Lots of figuring out to be done there.
^Planet Jazz- Monster ??!^
Same goes for anything new I guess. Takes a while to find a rhythm. Takes a while to adjust to a rhythm. Gonna be a lot of impatient motherfuckers getting antsy. Wanting shit “RIGHT GODDAMN NOW BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!!!”,and I understand that kind of thinking, but maybe cut down on the coffee and chill dipshits. Get two shots in your Starbucks instead of four. Or hell, up it to eight.
I dunno...just...chill.
I hate when these motherfuckers tell me I’m gonna get left behind, and then the next day they tell me the same bullshit. Welp, if I got left behind, how in the fuck are we having this conversation? Anyone that tells me “I’m gonna get left” is prolly angling me. Or did I just assume your intentions?
^Sven Väth & Barbarella – My Name Is Barbarella^
There are some days that I just want to crawl under a rock and die. But I’ve been here before, and I survived it then, so why wouldn’t I survive it now? Just because I’m 50 years old and completely worthless, welp, that inspires me to keep moving. Seeing things like that ant, holding on for dear life, inspires me. Hang on while the storm blows, and move the best you can, when you can, as the storm relents.
I mean, have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, nature sometimes needs us to hunker down for a bit? Sit tight. If you’ve not considered that, just keep in mind that we sleep. So maybe not just and only storms sometimes do the trick with respect to getting us to chill at bit.
^Sven Väth – Extra welt / Zu Fuss^
/begin poem
A quick spin round, and to, is the thing now to do.
Outside, real quick, to check on this snow, the news is thick.
brb
Back, not a goddamn thing, not a goddamn flake, not one flake to see, except…me.
‘Tis cold and cloudy, no snow, plenty of wind, I’m pouty.
But not sad, not mad, not glad, not yet, no snow I’d bet.
But why bet on the weather, it’s always coming together, just like laces in a shoe.
And not to be too bold, but warm or cold, I’d like to curl up with you.
/end poem
Definitely colder outside, but the air has a warm feeling to it. The air is heavy. Feels heavy.
“they have devised a novel method that maps electrical circuits in the brain”
to…
“enabled them to map out all 250 cells that make up a microcircuit in part of a mouse brain that processes smell”
…pretty quickly.
From "Brain" to "Mouse Brain" pretty fucking fast.
The fact they’re tinkering in areas that process smell is pretty fucking impressive, but to what end? It seems there are elements that are wanting to ban anything and everything that supposedly makes us sick. So…what’s the reason for research like this?
Once alcohol and cigarettes are gone, and plants are completely under the control of corporations and/or government, freewill can be tamed, and there’ll be nothing left for anyone to do…right? Or am I being to shallow and not looking at the greater picture and the big good.
That said, the article only mentions the word “mouse” once, “mice” not at all, and “brain” ten times. Let’s check out “the big study” and see where that leads us.
However, identifying the totality of cells belonging to such neuronal modules, the “inputs” and “outputs,” remains a major challenge.
That’s from the “Neuronal Circuits” article above, but I’m still perplexed about the “I/O” nature of thinking in science. I mean, what if information processing takes a fuckton longer than you think it does? Something unique to me, may not be unique to you, so to say something always processes information in the same way(s) seems…foolhardy. Not to mention that the nature of your “I/O” thinking is prolly backwards to begin with. Meaning, you’ve not stop to consider that “I/O” is a simultaneous process that happens at the same time. Perhaps even at the same time, at the same point, and happens multiple times. Like a sequence.
EX: In order to get in, and I mean in, and only in, you need a sequence of registers that simultaneously register: I, O, O, I, I, O, O, I, I, I, O.
Yeah rly.
I’m suggesting that a sequence of “In, Out, Out, In, In, Out, Out, In, In, In, Out” may be required just to get in. There’s prolly going to be some embedded encoding within the “IN” key that allows the potential, for an “OUT” key to be generated, depending on the information that follows the “IN” key.
Am I really suggesting that this I/O sequencing into the brain is going to be that complex? Nope. It’s not going to be that easy. I’m suggesting that it’s going to be a fuckton more complex than that.
^Eli Brown – Get Down^
Thinking like that shouldn’t be that much of a stretch. We are talking about trapping here, information processing and retention, data preservation. That means there are going to be FUCKTONS of traps preventing you from getting in, and perhaps even allowing you to get in. Getting out is another matter entirely. I mean, DNA is pretty complex…right?
If the model of tumblers that I see in my head is even partially correct with respect to how information is processed and potentially stored within the body. Um…you better get out your stopwatches and start thinking about time, times, and a fuckton of time and times, then you better start thinking about friction, atrophy, decay, motion, what constitutes energy over time…and a fuckton of other things. I guess I’m thinking about things like that, because “In, Out, Out, In, In, Out, Out, In, In, In, Out” may get you in today, but tomorrow may require “In, In, In, In, In, Out, In, In, In, In, In”.
How long are you willing to monitor this shit? Yeah…why not hook this shit up to your own brain, then you monitor yourself and let others monitor you for the rest of your life. We’ll keep you posted on how it all turns out. Srsly…we will. You’re in good hands. I’ve practiced on thousands of grapefruits.
^CamelPhat – Drop It^
Lemme explain why I’m thinking in those lines, assuming that I possess the ability to do so.
We are talking about information…correct? Are you going to use the first key that works? Welp, what if that key, sends all information to one place, and one place only?
Yeah...storage.
There’s GOT to be more to the routing system than just and only one key. What happens when you send a message, but the pathway is already occupied, and the message cannot be sent in totality? Are you prepared with how to deal with “packet loss” and the like? I mean…doesn’t the brain supposedly work differently/better in the mornings for certain things, and differently/worse in the evenings for those same things? Let’s say that the following is true…
Key 1: “In, Out, Out, In, In, Out, Out, In, In, In, Out”
Key 2: “In, In, In, In, In, Out, In, In, In, In, In”
Key 3: “iN, oUT, oUT, iN, iN, oUT, oUT, iN, iN, iN, oUT”
Let’s say that applying those four keys, in sequence, will get you in, through, and back out, without making a single change to anything. Basically, a ping, and a response acknowledging that your sequence was correct, and that the system recognized/recognizes that you are trying to gain access, do nothing except gain access, get through, and return. This response is neither friendly, nor unfriendly. Basically just a response of “I heard you”.
Q: How are you going to interpret that?
A: ?!¿?!¿!!!
Might wanna give it some thought. “Space” and “messages from space” are prolly not just and only going to come from one place or another. Might wanna give that some thought as well. I’m sure as shit chewing on it.
^Charles Pierre – Directions (Original Mix)^
Something else to consider…
I am a human.
To say that I’ve no knowledge of my own makeup is…
shortsighted.
I have knowledge of self.
Some anyway 😉
I am a someone, (Individual Human)
that is part of a group, (Humans)
that is also part of a group, (Life)
and this group of groups contains unlimited groups (Lives).
So yeah…to say that it’s impossible for me to know things about myself, that are more “scientific” in nature, while possessing none of the “skill and knowledge” that these scientific modalities create? That it’s impossible for me to know things about myself, because I possess none of the machinery… None of the training… none of the skills… none of the experience… none of the peer support…and on and on?
Welp...you'd be right about that.
Within the scope of the entirety of things, not sure what that means tho.
/me shrugs
^The Crystal Method – Name of the Game (Hybrid’s Blackout in LA Mix)^
c. 1200, “medical treatment, cure, remedy,” also used figuratively, of spiritual remedies, from Old French medecine (Modern French médicine) “medicine, art of healing, cure, treatment, potion,” from Latin medicina“the healing art, medicine; a remedy,” also used figuratively, perhaps originally ars medicina“the medical art,” from fem. of medicinus (adj.) “of a doctor,” from medicus“a physician” (from PIE root *med-“take appropriate measures”); though OED finds evidence for this is wanting. Meaning “a medicinal potion or plaster” in English is mid-14c.
To take (one’s) medicine“submit to something disagreeable” is first recorded 1865. North American Indian medicine-man“shaman” is first attested 1801, from American Indian adoption of the word medicine in sense of “magical influence.” The U.S.-Canadian boundary they called Medicine Line (first attested 1910), because it conferred a kind of magic protection: punishment for crimes committed on one side of it could be avoided by crossing over to the other. Medicine show“traveling show meant to attract a crowd so patent medicine can be sold to them” is American English, 1938. Medicine ball “stuffed leather ball used for exercise” is from 1889.
It is called a “medicine ball” and it got that title from Prof. Roberts, now of Springfield, whose fame is widespread, and whose bright and peculiar dictionary of terms for his prescription department in physical culture is taught in every first-class conducted Y.M.C.A. gymnasium in America. Prof. Roberts calls it a “medicine ball” because playful exercise with it invigorates the body, promotes digestion, and restores and preserves one’s health. [“Scientific American Supplement,” March 16, 1889]
I’m off now to spend some time with Thoughtful Man, and Clicky is…
*Charming!*
… Already out of here apparently. Dear Reader… Have a Song 😀
Sew there you go – last night’s synchromystic fugue through the medium of selfies. Not sure about Lashy’s killing spell, butt… I guess we’ll find out… In the meantime, c/o Cade’s birthday post for his daughter… 18 today 😀
late 14c., from rumble (v.). Slang noun meaning “gang fight” is from 1946. Meaning “backmost part of a carriage” is from 1808 (earlier rumbler, 1801), probably from the effect of sitting over the wheels; hence rumble seat (1828).
Rumble (v.)
late 14c., “make a deep, heavy, continuous sound,” also “move with a rolling, thundering sound,” also “create disorder and confusion,” probably related to Middle Dutch rommelen “to rumble,” Middle High German rummeln, Old Norse rymja“to shout, roar,” all of imitative origin. Related: Rumbled; rumbling.
I have to say, that first talk was uncomfortable listening. So I talked to Cade about it…
*/drags… Ahh… a selfie with Cade, Clicky? …/pats snout… Thank you…*
Contrary to Tim Ottevanger’s view (Letters, 16 October) of the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact of August 1939, a pact that astonished the western world, I think it was one of the most significant in the last 200 years. At that time any intelligent observer, including Stalin, knew that the Nazis planned to eradicate Bolshevism and to gain Lebensraum in eastern Europe. The Soviets were engaged in a gigantic educational, agricultural and industrial transformation lasting less than a score of years, a process that took the UK over a century. They had to ensure that they were capable of defeating an onslaught from the greatest military machine ever known. The pact not only gave the USSR an extra 22 months of further industrialisation, but also allowed it to occupy eastern Poland after the Nazis attacked it on 1 September 1939. But for this extra 100+ miles of “buffer zone” the Nazis would have probably captured Moscow in 1941 and much land beyond it. Instead, as Churchill said, the Soviets “ripped the guts out of the Wehrmacht”. But for this the Nazis would have won the war in Europe with cataclysmic implications for the UK. David Davis Chesterfield
I gotta say, they kinda fucked up there, if stopping Bolshevik Zenosh taking over Europe was the Nazis’ sole ‘good’ intention…
late 14c., from Low German wrangeln“to dispute, to wrestle,” related to Middle Low German wringen, from Proto-Germanic *wrang-, from *wrengh-, nasalized variant of *wergh- “to turn,” from PIE root *wer- (2) “to turn, bend.” Meaning “take charge of horses” is by 1897, American English. Related: Wrangled; wrangling. The noun is recorded from 1540s.
The second and third of Lashy’s videos I listened to yesterday, in the fading afternoon light. The first of those was also a talk concerning Miss Attribution…
*/cough… The Aztec name bestowed upon him means ‘Smoking Mirror’? …/coughs uncontrollably… Fuck Off! …/lights up… And he even quotes from the gospel of Philip… /chortles…*
*”Easy on the throat”… /puffs merrily… Sounds familiar, Clicky…*
And the words…
Holocaust (n.)
mid-13c., “sacrifice by fire, burnt offering,” from Old French holocauste (12c.), or directly from Late Latin holocaustum, from Greek holokauston “a thing wholly burnt,” neuter of holokaustos “burned whole,” from holos “whole” (from PIE root *sol- “whole, well-kept”) + kaustos, verbal adjective of kaiein “to burn” (see caustic).
Originally a Bible word for “burnt offerings,” given wider figurative sense of “massacre, destruction of a large number of persons” from 1670s. The Holocaust “Nazi genocide of European Jews in World War II,” first recorded 1957, earlier known in Hebrew as Shoah “catastrophe.” The word itself was used in English in reference to Hitler’s Jewish policies from 1942,but not as a proper name for them.
Of course, Dear Reader, your understanding of this shambles is wholly hinged on whether or not you listen to either or both of of the talks from Mr ‘Smoking Mirror’. Perhaps you’ll enjoy the third video which was not a talk as much as a rendition…
Mythophrenia in Action
Illustration: EPI KALF is an estuary on M 31, the Andromeda Galaxy which harbors a world that mirrors life on earth. It is the doubling of the Skeena estuary in British Columbia, Canada. The mirror world on M 31 in the Syrene Limb is the cosmic site for the control group corresponding to the divine experiment with the Anthropos on earth. Life-forms on M 31 including all human doubles are superporous and magnified: the span of your hand, say, 15-20 cm or 6 to 8 inches from tip of thumb to tip of little finger — hold it out and measure it, with hand spread! — is magnified 8-9 times under the conditions on Andromeda. If you are five and a half feet tall here, you are about 45 feet tall there, and superporous like pumice.
Your Andromedan double is a non-identical mirroring and does not resemble your actual physical form and figure here on earth. But you have the same gaze as your double, which you cannot detect in ordinary conditions of awareness due to not recognizing the operation of its returning or reflecting action: you are “blind-sided” by its power. Your gaze is reflected back to you from the mirror world in M 31. Asuramaya on M 31, “The Physics of Beauty”, Sloka Five of Translations from the Andromedan
This passage in the Translations introduces or cues “the revelation of the method” for Gaian Tantric magic: “No mystery without apposition.” The technique of apposition is the first requirement for learning how to master and demonstrate magic power linked to the agency of the Aeonic Mother.
Mastery of mythophrenia is also called mantique, the technique of self-knowledge through skills of divination. The adjective is mantic. I propose that mantique and mantic can replace the terms “spirituality” and “spiritual” which are insipid and obsolete.
*Leggy will fall sleep if he listens to that! …/drags… I know! Clicky, get a jolly Song to end… /blows smoke ring…*
It is now Christmas Eve, Dear Reader, and I started this post yesterday but got waylaid in Smoky-Drinky last night. It was lovely spending some time with my friends in the Blueuniverse, smoking, drinking, eating, talking and laughing together…
… Butt it’s quite long enough, so have a very Merry Christmas, Dear Reader. And have a Song…
For the last three days, Monday to Wednesday, John Lamb Lash has put out a new talk a day…
Sew… seeing as I’ve now written quite a number of posts about Sophia’s Correction recently, Dear Reader, I thought I’d preface the titles of future Lashy inspired posts, starting with this one…
*/reaches for fags… Well, Icarus did also fall, Clicky… /shakes lighter… but I believe that was under entirely different circumstances… /lights up…*
MONDAY
Let’s start with a selfie taken in the red universe of MEROVEE…
*/drags… That gnosticism image has a sort of fishy tail to it…*
The Turing test, developed by Alan Turing in 1950, is a test of a machine’s ability to exhibit intelligent behavior equivalent to, or indistinguishable from, that of a human.
The twist on the Turing test is that it is we that are being tested, for our ability to exhibit intelligent behaviour toward this AI scam, and whether we’ll swallow the official narrative unquestioningly…
TUESDAY
Another selfie but this includes Cade, as I told him that another Lashy talk was up, and that I’d specifically asked Leggy to have a listen…
*/puffs… Leggy has written loads about The Righteous, Clicky… /blows smoke rings… and Goetia…*
I was not expecting Leggy to write a post about it!
Racial Superiority
It doesn’t exist.
It’s a meme. An ancient one, started by one tribe in the Middle East – not Islam, not even Judaism. Way before them.
It’s a meme that caused a change from the old Pagan religions to new, highly organised religious structures. It wasn’t created by those religions. It created them.
Some years back I wrote a little thing about the origins of government and control of the people. Where one becomes leader, then a group takes control, and they consider themselves superior to the other members of the tribe. That’s still going on.
*And Cade also mentioned Lashy’s talks in his latest blog post, Clicky… /final drag…*
*My diagram depicting the long way round…/stubs butt… Last thing I sent him that night…*
WEDNESDAY
“Did you hear about Uber?” Thoughtful Man asked me when he got home from work. He’s been out working the mean streets of Southend all day, making sure Christmas shoppers and celebrators got home safe and sound.
I’d read something about Uber online earlier. “The EU has finally ruled that Uber is a transportation company and will be dealt with as such. That?” I replied dishing him up his evening dinner.
“No,” Thoughtful Man said scrolling through the news feed on his phone. “An Uber driver confessed to killing that woman in Lebanon.”
“The murdered British diplomat found on the side of a road?”
Thoughtful Man had found the article and handed me his phone. “Yes. An Uber driver did it and the Lebanese government is advising everyone in the country not to use them; they ain’t safe.”
“Well we know that,” I said handing his phone back to him. “That whole company is built on deceit and debt. Weird though…” I trailed off and busied myself refilling his glass.
“What’s is? Thoughtful Man asked between spoonfuls of saucy ravioli. He stopped eating and squinted at me. “What’s weird?”
“Nothing really,” I replied demurely. “Only I finished listening to a talk about the word uber just before you got home.”
*The really spooky thing though, Clicky, is their faces… /lights up… Those girls lined up on the video image… /deep drag… They look exactly like people I work with now… /exhales … The same features… /taps ash… and not just women…*
Dear Reader, the previous Fourth Turning and the current one have one thing in common. I wonder what a comparative mythologist, like John Lamb Lash would make of this…
And First Mother’s husband called the first plant Skarmunal, corn, and the second plant utarmur-wayeh, tobacco.
“Remember,” he told the people, “and take good care of First Mother’s flesh, because it is her goodness become substance. Take good of her breath, because it is her love turned into smoke. Remember her and think of her whenever you eat, whenever you smoke this sacred plant, because she has given her life so that you might live. Yet she is not dead, she lives: in undying love she renews herself again and again.”
shortsighted.
Dear Reader, the previous Fourth Turning and the current one have one thing in 
Library of Libraries 
