Tuesday, October 6, 2009
I Didn't Mean to Bash America but She was Drunk and Out of Line.
The writing seems to be very clearly plastered across the wall, and the T-shirts, and the music videos, and the television news and adverts, and the newspapers, and the modes of official speech. You may have to search among lots of other distracting, useless information and messages, or have the proper spectacles on, to read the script. I'm talking about the non-roseate glasses worn by the somewhat rare, informed citizen of this country who is not a self-absorbed, teat-guzzling donkey wage-earner. To see the writing, you do not necessarily have to have access to the internet, but it's only there that you can exercise any amount of control over the data being entered into your hard drive, as opposed to letting data flow neatly, one-way, into your mind-drive from a dodgy TV screen which knows all the petty secrets of human thought and impulse, and sucks its life from them. If not for your pick-pocket fondling by the television that knows you so well and is there for you always, you might have no sex life, many of you. The TV and its disease-carrying alpha waves are destroying your humanity, what is left of it. The TV is an altar meant for child sacrifice.
(Our Lady of Gaga, pictured above, as below, demonstrating that one has to suffer, and even sacrifice themselves on live television, for their art. Interestingly, one of the earliest etymological origins of the word "celebrity" comes from the Old French, meaning "solemn rite or ceremony." And of course a "star" is a heavenly body. As below, Our Lady of Ritual Gibberish, hanging out inside a Zodiac Costume.)
If, if you feel pity and contempt at the same time for the imbeciles, for these other rose-tinted mind-cripples, wardens, executives, security analysts, lewd choreographers and wealthy pornographers surrounding you, pity and contempt for their drugged inability to see the obvious when they are being practically raped by it, then you shouldn't be ashamed. You can't be criticized. You can't be reasonably called "wild-eyed" just for having opened them, or when you are in fact squinting against the obscene, blinding glare which the awful blingbling state of things gives off.
("Jay-Hova's" esoteric Bling-bling pictured above; note the exacting position of his eye)
(More god-damned esoteric mind-controlling cuteness from Madonna's high-priestess Kabbala-spawn, below. She has eyes to see, you know, even if they seem empty.)
If you have a vague sense of an impending News-Real terror that will be encased in lies and spawned by the sick power-lust of Judaeo-Anglo-Saxon reaction, (and certainly not by any jihadist revolutionary sentiment) then a bloody hearty congratulations to you, indeed. You are not as fucking stupid as you should be...as it was intended that you be. You are more than your vanity and your need for a plastic peace of mind. If you smell something foul in the formula we are plugged into and which has been slipped into our nippled bottles, and that a war with Iran or mass swine flu vaccinations are not the wisest or most humane courses for America, then you should pat yourself on the back and become a diplomat, or a medical doctor. But do not marry or have children or love anyone deeply because these weaknesses will eventually be used against you. If you do embark on a mission of righteousness and truth-telling, remember to declare openly and often that you would never commit suicide, so that when you are murdered, the newspapers can't as effectively lie about your demise. Above all, should you ever rise to a position of real influence and yet still choose to publicly attack or contradict the official state version of events, then you must avoid flying in any sort of airplane, no matter what.
I tend to feel there are no "Muslim extremists" alive today who are not either fake or merely reacting, as they are the target or pawns of extremely belligerent and mostly indescribable evils being practiced by the Occult extremists of the West, by the godless Capitalist Radicals in their Mystery Schools: Those same inbred sociopaths that put all that alchemical nonsense of eyes, pyramids, numerology and bizarre talismanic images of the Towers collapsing on your money as if it were a folding Tarot card, and who are methodically devaluing that money, and who would like nothing better than to abduct and rape your children because it is for them such a pleasant pastime, when they are not planning invasions and fake terror attacks. The same spooky devils who use the MTV Video Music Awards and the Super Bowl half-time "shows" as staging grounds for not very well-concealed high-Occult ceremonies and magic rituals, with mock blood sacrifices and the baring of so many bejeweled pop-star titties as to make the mind reel over the concept of "malfunction," if not coincidence. There never was an Islam-o-fascist as frightening as the devil worshippers, neo-nazis, Kabbalists and wet-mouthed sadists that we call our celebrities, elected representatives, and clergy, whom we heed and obey like so many lobotomized serfs or redrobed acolytes. Even now I obey their orders, committing my objectionable opinions to their permanent, clever trap, the internet.
With America's noted taste for tradition and ritual, we now acknowledge the 70 year anniversary of the day we tested some technology on Japan, a terrific weapon of mass destruction which has guided our noble destiny since that day of Primal Shock and Awe, or primal "Shekinah," if you prefer.
On August 6, 1945, we fucked up Japan terrible bad, for generations, and it was more a kind of controlled experiment than a military act. In our mighty flying craft, we flew over the old island autocracy, a land full of suffering serfs, and dropped these brand-new market products and wonders of science on it. According to the court history of the incident(s), we did this because we were at war with the Japanese People, an involvement we are told arose from the devious yellow devils' decision to entangle us in another undesired world war, when they stabbed our broad, honorable back in Hawaii, our beautiful lily pad to the Orient, wrested rightfully from the Spanish, another grasping race of religious fanatics who also once surprised us with a surprise back-stabbing in foreign harbors, back in 1898. There was no democratic vote in 1945: it was the Executive Branch that carried out the mass execution of children, Taoist priests, Allied POW's, and every breathing house-pet within range of a poisoned atmosphere, but our Western-Civ and American history texts do indicate that each of these seal-clubbing vermin deserved it, because they were definitely sleazy back-stabbing fanatics with slanted eyes suggestive, reminiscent, and provocative of evil. Then, as now, our military intelligence was simply not competent enough to prevent massive surprise attacks, whether delivered by entire, disappearing Japanese Navies or by a small gang of homicidal Muslims from South Florida armed with box-cutters and a remarkably clunky plan that reeked of Hollywood. It is that fundamental, institutional incompetence, we have therefore perhaps reluctantly learned, that forces us in the end to resort to more brutish and proactive means of defending our way of life, etc.---Means such as atomic bombs, bio-weapons, continuous wars of aggression, and the various methods we have of turning recognizably human beings into creatures like this...
And didn't we teach them, didn't we spread democracy and not terror by melting and poisoning and wiping out in an instant 140,000 mostly non-combatant types, and then doing it again three days later, on a slightly more modest scale? Wasn't the sacrifice worth the immeasurable prosperity we and our professional sports leagues have enjoyed since ww2? What right do any protesting god-damn Nuns have to object to an act of courage and valor and calculated life-saving which brought an end to a tragic, unloved world war? These thankless virgins could not protest without F-16s even now shooting the hell and the blasphemy out of foreign dictatorships, without having themselves been nourished by the blood of the fanatics of Falluja and Nagasaki, and Jonestown, Guyana. It's true. And yet the crazy nuns protested once again when the military was called upon to soak the lands of Vietnam and Laos and Cambodia with fancy toxins and napalm and millions of bombs and scores of redneck CIA assassins, and more innocent blood than can ever be washed away or remembered.
Undesirable carnage is demanded by the struggles for Democracy and the primacy of our Occult Mystery Religions. We have seen this from the movie, "300," and from the nakedly self-evident successes of our ongoing holy war against countries with no military force whatsoever. One can't very well savor something as diffuse and ethereal as Kabbalistic/Western individual liberty without getting concrete and dirty by chopping off the fanatical monotheist arms and hands of the barbarian, which are regularly trying to assassinate our liberties and our access to fuel. Remember that these are the same vile extremists who do not want your wife, lover, or girlfriend to wear pants, or receive diplomas, or give blowjobs without being commanded, or admire Lady Gaga as she seizures around the award stage, shrieking and covered in blood, or, as in her videos, she copulates with some man beneath a mounted goat's head, before murdering him.
It is for this reason, the sheer difficulty of securing religious freedom and democracy in a world of sooty, backwards zealots and dark, hairy despots who despise our goodcleanfun popular culture, that we must steel ourselves and employ every weapon in the Republic's arsenal. No matter how wicked or reminiscent of terrorism. We must flavor the beard of every Mohammedan with our liberal monthly discharge. We must water-board all enemies of the wight-manse free market and of the objectives of the coy astrological paganism of our ruling class, until the enemies are no longer thirsty, until they are bloated with the need to tell us everything about their next surprise and unactionable attack. Those who do not prostrate themselves before the goat skull and the petrodollar will be made to do so, and their comfort will not be considered butt sadistically. The clever use of anthrax is not off-limits, even in the homeland, nor the alchemical power of occult insignia and mega-rituals, sprinkled over the money and throughout the entertainment. Accept that depleted uranium-stuffed munitions are just the thing for the cause, as they have proven deadly to fanatical terrorists in the womb. Eat these stuffed shells, they are magic: they're so filling that your grand-children may never know hunger... It can perhaps be relied on that the embryos hatched by in-theater American soldiers are more durable and resistant to the cancers caused by these powerful weapons, as the embryos' parents have better diets, and are extremely well-vaccinated. We can only hope with our singular united statist optimism that our obedient boys on the battlefields do not succumb to the poisons we're using on them, just as we can only hope that the sorcery bubbling over on our televisions doesn't make too many Crowleys and Bush's, too many Jay-Hova's and Michael Aquino's of our somewhat attentive children. But the odds suggest that we have disfigured many of our future generations already. Hopelessly and in a host of ways, in part because we have turned much of the world into a mass-grave and a toxic dump.
There is one thing about our collective and massive failure to read the writing on the walls and screens and death notices, that gives me reason to be less disgusted. It is the nearly unavoidable state of our blindness. We are esteemed by our masters to be stabled plow-beasts, or laboratory subjects only, and it's for good reason. It's a refined and well-controlled operation. We are subjected to a persistent, organized program of blinkering and eye-gouging, all very scientific. Our diets in everything are finely limited to the things which delight and enervate us, or that can only give us the brief and meaningless enthusiasms of cocaine and speed addicts.
How are we to make sense of anything with Gaga and Jay-Z and the Bush clan and Rupert Murdoch and Rudy Giuliani exerting an influence on the collective mind and heart? When the whole of academia, media, and the intellectual classes insist that 9-11 was an authentic terror attack launched by Muslims and has "changed everything forever," and that we had better toe these absurd, fatally murderous lines if we know what is good for us? When now, because of these treasonous mass murders of 2001, our armies are slaughtering and encouraging the slaughter of innocent people every day in the name of an evil hallucination? There is most certainly an end game strategy at play here, but it is definable, visible only to those with sufficiently focused or interested vision, with "eyes to see." It is never treated in bold-face, in any headline: the occultic end game is only described as if by the microscopic and morbid cautionary script on potent pharmaceuticals that the state mandates some sad anxious child must take, and which script is never intended to be read. The semi-secret blood-Rules of the game are written into an invisible but no less real contract that exists between slave and Master. It is all very much between the lines, while we are taught to take all things literally. One result appears to be that we become schizophrenic, with a bizarre, sublimated taste for the flesh and suffering of our neighbors, which used to be called "cannibalism," and "sadism," but is now merely living in what is called a "free market system." Truly, the market has freedom, and we have mystery diseases, and wars.
Blindness is merely living, getting on with it, in this slave and bordello system. And so we accept having been blinded, warped, pimped and rendered to a very sloppy state of semi-awareness; but to the extent that we were always an unsophisticated species dependent on the dull, reliable satisfactions of herd life, maybe, after all, we can't really be blamed for this compliance, or even for relishing our diet of gruel-thin propaganda and ninety-nine scent bloodburger sandwiches. All we seem to want is consistency---but a thin consistency---and more calories and possessions than we need or deserve. All we seem to want are these things, and for the milk maid to come and relieve all the pressure in our tits and bellies. Then to leave us alone and let us go on chewing and fucking and rubbing ourselves, inside the golden pen.
(Hey, Kids! Can you spot the Baphomet in your favorite Rhianna, Lady Gaga, or Omarion video? Is that what you don't think it is? Could they all just be simple goat-herders?)
...For further illuminating (if glossary) reading on the subject of the arcane and wicked-smelling world of Kabbalistic/Mystical American show business:
SPECIAL AND IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: Of course, none of this mess about the Kabbalist/esoteric agenda within modern popular entertainment may mean a thing. It could all exist simply to keep us confused and afraid and paranoid, as a kind of fear-based psychological operation, a la the mass murders of 9-11. There is always that possibility, but we are left to judge it all quietly as individuals. The crowd might stone you to death, after all, if you pipe up.