Dear Norris please don't leave us here, drowned out at the bar

Norris Dryer used to say,
"God how i hate these young females at the bar,"
screeching in their shrill, high-velocity and -impact voices
designed to crowd the air and reach across the room,
to draw attention to their splendid and often physically attractive,
noisome selves.

Norris my dear friend, be glad at least that you died
six or so years ago, and
didn't live to see the progressive state of this
libertinist siren-screeching in 2020.

You may not even in your vibrant cynicism have predicted
how awful these creatures
---and in our own mutual experience, awful, but mainly bourgeois white creatures---
have become.
Even in such a very long, fraught time
as these epochal six years.
With their borrowed rap-music language of the hood:
"I'm that Bitch that...blablabla." they say loudly..
and then repeat..

That's what they say now, pitched so high, in a hoarse,
partied-out voice creaking with a lack of
bed-time or quiet-time.

Their delirious music rises above the beery mash of bar-din.
They don't allow many words in edge-wise, as they
bray so stridently about this or that idle, combative, vanity-stricken thought.
Declaring their admirable personalities, these self-described bad bitches.

Norris i'm so scared now.
They used to be only about 5'5" of loud lead vocals,
self-admiration, and social media presence incarnate.

Now though...they are almost 6', as far as i'm concerned.
Bigger, taller than me at least.
Never traveling alone of course, and often with some simpering 6'5" male.
Together reeking of the economics of Darwin and total cavity-filling.
If fluoride has diminished their minds it has
tragically failed to limit their physical growth
and vocal capacity.

They declaim for you, they screech in the bright, dark spot of your absence.
i miss you Norris Dryer, Brilliantly Gay Symphony Violinist and Green Party candidate for local governance, thou thrilled patron of the
rippling-muscled abdomens of the prostitute streets,
you raconteur and fine appreciator
of words and modulated speech.
Even your rigid refusal to love jazz music
is beautiful now, and half-admired.
And i miss your
charming, unapologetic contempt
that came like regular crashing iceberg flows,
against the state of things.

 http://jackneely.com/wordpress/2014/10/31/norris-dryer/

Some final words and sentiments about the Black Mamba.

Kobe Bryant was a more beautiful person than i realized. It's fairly obvious by about 9 minutes into this presentation and then interview. He's 17 years old here and shows more gravity and introspection than about 90% of modern American youths could possibly muster, in my opinion. (And by way of giving my bona fides for essaying the demeanor of younger crops of human, just this morning i walked a few blocks against the densely packed stream of college students going to their classes, in which cases i'm always powerless to resist peering at their faces and perhaps physiognomies: i can report that the situation is not exactly good or healthy out here. There is rampant insecurity, fear, and something perhaps indefinable but sad and defeated about young people today. My job has for many years positioned me for this kind of trans-generational observation of youth behavior, and i believe that it's the College Student who best signifies what a society intends or plans for emerging citizens, and for their nature and conduct. They are the people who've most fully ingested the lessons of master, State and corporation, and are expected to fulfill the bulk of the duties of witless, mutely obedient citizenship. University life may not be as sane or real as life among those who don't attend college, but it tends to reveal a kind of ordination of mainstream Being, or the sum effect of the ideas and plans of social engineers at their distant levels. They have created good, timid, fearful, compliant workers, but not healthy spiritual beings who can get along without a furtive discomfort that is physically recognizable. And when they haven't been more formally conditioned/exposed to be precisely this way, they still are ultimately malformed by the foul, ambient atmosphere of modern life, since about, oh, 2001. I hope i do not sound at all cynical.) But 1996 was a very long, long time ago. Anyway, a young fan he had played hoop with during a tournament had written Kobe a letter. It was an inspirational, kind gesture of appreciation written by an unusually sensitive, wise kid named Jared Gibson. He gave him some advice and thanked Kobe for touching his life and for being humble, real, despite being such a super-hero among men, even then at 16 or 17. For whatever reason, Kobe wanted to feature this letter in this ESPN piece. He called it "a beautiful letter," then read it aloud.

When he finished he was manfully holding back tears. You can see him swallow after saying the last word, and there's some humidity in his eyes. He had earlier spoke of the best thing about his life growing up in Italy, saying that everything was about "family values" there, and you could walk down the street and be warmly received by strangers, even talk to them. I think the best part about life growing up in Italy for Kobe Bryant may have been that it prevented him from growing up in America. But i'm sour about this question, since about, Oh, 2001, and to some extent even before then, as i was a mixed-breed, educated, outraged, idealistic little leftist who read Z magazine and Howard Zinn's history tome, and was mindful of the deep, extensive depredations of the CIA. Something seemed wrong about everything, to me. 

Kobe also speaks here about how he would like people to come up to him and not just praise his skill at basketball, but to also tell him that he's a good person and has helped people. He said "he likes to hear things like that." When he came back from Italy, his grasp of vernacular English and its speed when spoken by Philadelphians was not good at all. He was unable to understand Americans very easily, and again, perhaps it was just as well. It seems to me that Bryant had a tender heart and cared for other human beings. Hearing typical Americans of the modern age jabber might just hurt his feelings.

I'm not sure what darkness he eventually became involved in but it does appear that this was the case. I simply cannot imagine a more horrible environment to grow up and become a man in, for a sensitive, intelligent 18 year old, than Los Angeles, as a deified Laker, no less. A Prince in a city of devils, thieves and fakirs. Insubstantial Town. A place where evil cults have become a cultural institution and the behavior of these cultists now is completely licensed and unconcealed. 20 years after the star's arrival in (pre-September-11) LA, we now live in a time of much more high, daring, fearless mockery. When people, nay when heroic archetypes like Kobe Bryant are taken from us in these alarming and completely Obvious occult rituals, and so few people even seem to have the rational capacity to note that the crash itself was ridiculous and suspicious as could possibly be, we are definitely in some kind of lasting, epochal trouble. Or a form of imprisonment. This sort of thinking preoccupies me, personally: the idea that the average person is a consummate heel and foil, that we are being mocked and insulted and dared to stop snoozing.

I don't know about you, but i am so tired of having to witness the garish, ceremonial design-deaths of celebrities, of people who inspire broad love, admiration and hope. They are incredibly fit human sacrifices, you know. That's a tradition more ancient than warfare organized en masse by the State and its ruling aristocracies, even: selecting the most virile, healthy specimens and members of the community to be ceremonially executed at a certain time and place, in order to placate the gods and other forces. Ritual murder never stopped, it was just transformed to suit our modern pretense of civilization. I am so tired of the continued murders of:

Prince, Michael Jackson, Otis Redding, Sam Cooke, Bob Marley, Peter Tosh, Jimi Hendrix, Whitney Houston, Malcolm X, Medgar Evers, Fred Hampton, various Black Panthers nobody remembers, Martin Luther King, Jr., Tupac and Biggie and literally scores of other more marginal rap artists, and also athletes. Daryl Dawkins comes to mind, but i admit that on some level we just can't be sure. Some of those murders were politically expedient, some of them were simply a form of ritual, a public snuff film for purposes we have to spend significant time figuring out and discussing, because they're hard to comprehend in our secular, western rationalist age. Meaning our age of utter rubbish and deception crowned with a university mortar board and the sanction and complicity of everyone on television and in newspapers. If i'm unsure about the deaths of Otis Redding and people like Buddy Holly and the gang, or John Denver and Jimi Hendrix, then i'm still able to perceive patterns. One is left having to wonder, having to seriously question official narratives of celebrity death. "Celebrity" comes from the French word for "little star." Many of us will eventually be forced to accept that earth politics are tied inextricably to the heavens. I left out of the above litany of slain cultural heroes Mr. John Lennon, because i am making a point about the disproportionate use of black people in these sacrificial rites. Also, i happen to believe that Lennon and the Beatles represent one of the most scientific, methodical efforts to darkly influence western but also global culture---that is, next to the heavyweights of stealth social engineering, The Grateful Dead, and the entire edifice of what is now known as early 90's "gangster rap," a genre whose destructive cultural and spiritual influence still remains with us. And i suspect that Lennon and other of his band-mates were not ultimately totally ignorant of the scheme that brought them to their exalted, god-like status and world popularity.

Yes i admit on some level we can't be sure, again, but i also view the notion of certainty as being often over-rated, and in this era of dishonesty and mind-blowing revelation, close to bankrupt.

I am certain that Kobe's helicopter should not have been flying to a middle school girls' hoops tourney on a day of reportedly inclement weather, when the LAPD had grounded all their copters, and i am absolutely certain that the doomed aircraft shouldn't have been flying either that low or that fast. I am only certain of this because i can ably read journalisms, and in the early aftermath of such events is when one can find truthful expert testimony in those journalisms, if they choose to look. I am certain that it's no coincidence that Bryant was the night before his Death surpassed by "King Lebron James" on the all-time scoring list, while James was in Kobe's Birthplace, Philadelphia. I am along with many other people in 2020 certain that Lebron James is to some degree involved in Luciferian sorts of cultic activity. I am certain that it is strange and fishy and suggestive of bizarre parameters that baffle the average mind, that Kobe's defining, near-Mythical 81-point game happened to be the 666th of his career. I am certain that a single god-damned airplane cannot under any circumstances bring down any skyscraper, let alone the World Trade Center Towers, on a day when more than 15 or so military preparedness drills were being run by the National Security State, several of which simulated air defense protocols and commercial airplane hijackings. So you see, then, what fucking good is certainty, anyway, in our current lifetime. My own certainties haven't amounted to shit and indeed have the power of making me a pariah, a social outcast, if i let them.

Also, what good is civility and talking kindly to strangers when we're bred for competition and have a native terror instilled in us by traditional news, politics, and the fatalistic, existential realities proven by the mass murder of September 11, 2001 and all the murderous mass shootin horror it birthed right up to today?

One of my go-to theorems (which, of course, i learned from wiser minds and is also completely scientific and supported by the historical record) holds that certain select, influential men and women get "co-opted" or taken over to the dark side, when they have either committed a criminal act or have been framed for one. Perhaps these are the people who have been identified as not being susceptible to Voluntary dark-siding, to the materialist inducements to vice, pleasure and power that work so well with other, less honorable or spiritually sound people. It makes me wonder if Kobe was perhaps honey-trapped at that hotel in darkest Colorado. Everything is firmly on the table and the table isn't working class-sized, it's a massive feasting number of the kind we see from a distance at gala events, state dinners, and creepy Rothschild Balls. It makes me wonder about all these crashes of planes and cars that have claimed the lives of so many Princesses and James Deans and Eddie Cochrans, and so on and on. It all tends to make me want to withdraw and ignore literally everything to do with common civic life in organized societies, but instead of that, let's all try to forget our brand and our terror for a minute or so and engage with one another like Italians and Africans do, and maybe we can also have a moment of remembrance for Kobe Bean Bryant, who was a good young man with a thoughtful, loving personality before what appears to be a darkness crept in. That old "showtime" natural American darkness.

 

Bryant and his 2018 Ptah award

I didn't set out with this to itemize specific examples of proof that Kobe was part of the occult "underworld" of American celebrity. For one thing, this job has been handled more than adequately by the internet now for several years. None of this shit is actually secret anymore, particularly with the ascendance of the internet and the network of NY and LA stars more or less associated with people like "Jay Hova" Jay-Z and his friends, Robert Kraft, Warren Buffett, and their physical stud and champion, "King" Lebron James. Clearly these people derive some thrill or power from outstanding gestures and public displays, from the overt reveal. Still, i did find in little online backwaters further strange evidence of this campaign of occult flagrancy in the latter portions of Bryant's life.

Here is a YT analysis from what sounds like a Christian from Africa, a standard anti-illuminati grass-roots internet treatment of this subject. It deals with a Chinese Nike commercial, significantly, one which never aired in America, etc. It's understandable if you don't wish to watch the whole video. Briefly i'll break it down. It opens with fellow Hollywood insider, dark-themed film-maker Robert Rodriguez, visiting Kobe and making a pitch for a stupid movie. The movie features Bruce Willis and Danny Trejo; Willis seems to be a malignant force but i was unsure. The basic substance of the stupid satanic movie involves Trejo as an emissary of the satanic "Boss," who wants Kobe's Nike shoes. Kobe then has to basketball-battle demonic entities on top of a skyscraper, where the identity of The Boss is revealed: naturally it is Kanye West, looking as robotic and pliable as ever. Kobe beats the demons and Kanye flips out and then takes off in a helicopter. The basketball used in the frightful game was shown to have a time-clock in it, a sort of bomb timer thing. Kobe throws the ball-bomb at the helicopter and the aircraft explodes.

Here is a thin similac-treatment of Kobe's strange personal workout regimen which he himself calls the "666 workout."  Whatever.  I'm sure that like me, practically nobody had heard about this until after Kobe was removed from the earthly or at least intelligible scene.

Here is a terrifically bizarre, and in my opinion, chilling ESPN spot featuring Kobe and a snake puppet signifying his "Black Mamba" persona. The entire purpose of this open craziness is to "inspire children" to pursue success according to Bryant's strange metaphysical principles about "harnessing your dark thoughts and energy," as compared to less potent or productive "light or positive thoughts and energy." His legendary and even totemic "maniacal focus" and ruthless blocking out of most normal human considerations are well evinced here. If you've ever read anything of how Kobe behaved in his latter career---say, once he inherited the Lakers after Shaq's departure, which is about how i perceive this seemingly gradual change---then you come close to the conclusion that Bryant was deeply anti-social, and maybe a bit sociopathic. He at least for years shunned anything like professional athletic camaraderie, or hanging out with any team-mates, whatsoever. His minor feud with normal, mortal basketball pro, Smush Parker, resulted in some choice anecdotes from Parker about Kobe's behavior when they played together. This whole matter of Bryant Metaphysics for Success, it occurs to me, could simply be cover for a pat, left-hand path materialist doctrine of life and spirituality. Best to get the kids in on it with the puppets and cartoons and mythic heroes. If nothing else, Bryant and his "Mamba Mentality" symbolize to me the unapologetic, capitalist ruthlessness of the fully tapped-into reptile brain which is ever so delighted and transfixed by the continuous battle-and-competition metaphor of Organized Sport and its endless "seasons." Win at all costs and buy your wife a humongous diamond to erase your betrayal, etc. Embrace the dark side and so on.

I could of course show you several photographs of Kobe throwing up now traditional illuminist, dark fraternity hand signs and the like. Surely some people discount the cliched "diamond" or triangle hand configuration originated by the depressing and ubiquitous Jay-Z corporate menace, which indeed most of the top 10 NBA players and even Mr. Buffet and Mz. Degeneres have been seen to make at public functions in a very self-conscious way. Those denying types, though, are discounted, and probably imbeciles. I don't feel like showing that one sad photo of KB throwing up this sign at a tinsel town function as his cagey wife, Vanessa, looks at him with the pursed lip appearance of knowledgeable contempt. It's just gauche and it's just passe, these photos specifically meant for our dull, profane consumption. And in any case i feel that one other picture is more interesting, revealing. I simply couldn't find the image, but if you check out this lengthy dive into Kobe Occultism by YTer Chronicles of Judah 144 (rather too lengthy and casual, but he does generally good work), you'll see. The thumbnail image for the video (actually for Part 2 of the series) is what i'm talking about: it's another vile Nike ad and it shows a smirking Kobe placing his new Nike kicks up on his head to imitate horns. (Probably just a conniving and culturally standard, egotistical nod to his "GOAT" status, which he anointed himself with in 2018. Because it's important that you obsess over this kind of taxonomic, hierarchical Bullshit.)  These vulgar displays pass out of the realm of spooky and wicked, to me, into the more palatable territory of silly nonsense, now at this late point. But still it is occult mockery that would have been strange and daring back in, OH, 2000 or so. I could not be any more serious about this evaluation of how things have changed in two decades.

Now we should stop prattling on and bring this to a close. Did you know that 6+6+6= 18? Or that 18 is the inverse of 81, (as in points) and that reversal and mirroring is a principle revered in some occult systems? Incidentally, Aaron Hernandez wore number 81 when he played his brief, tragic, traumatizing career for the scandalous New England Patriots, which ended in his unaccountably bloody and symbol-laden "suicide" in prison mere days after his acquittal for murder. I don't feel that tangents exist anymore, frankly. Everything is on the table, just as master prefers. 

There's one other thing, by way of "evidence," that Kobe's sacrifice (along with the sacrifice of the other people and his daughter, if they are indeed dead or just in another time-stream or on a lavishly appointed private island chain) was in the end a sacrifice of an insider familiar with dark doings. And i was already done with writing this and at the last second decided to look at what Nike's last shoe-line was for Kobe. Because these people, or these creatures, are just that plainly direct and obvious at this point. For what it is worth, it appears that the final line of footwear for KB was called the "Kobe A.D. NXT."

No: two more things, and here is the second, related to the first: I don't know what the fuck is going on here with all this blatant preparation by Nike and KB for the ritual finale, and i don't care to know. And ultimately it's all very simplistic, as i see it, and clearly intended to resemble prophecy and its fulfillment. But it should probably be included here. This interview is from some damned Nike function for the release of those shoes which one has to assume Consciously referenced the timeline, "after death" abbreviation. I couldn't quickly confirm whether that's what the "A.D." meant. But listen to the first question the stooge with the absurd hairstyle asks of Mamba, he asks him "what is your relationship to death?" (This appears to be a segway from the fact that they are apparently on a stage for this launch event that is in the form of a "meso-american clock.") Bryant replies, "a comfortable one." I didn't make it past that because i'm tired of all this disgusting rubbish.

If you fancy going into a rabbit- or GOAT-hole along these nefarious lines of potential occult or even "deep fascist state" inquiry, then one event you could look at is last year's fatal New Hampshire car accident involving 7 dead former marines who were riding with their motorcycle club, called the "Jarheads," on their way to some charity event at the American Legion. (By the way, the subject, or concept, at least of "charity" and its tax exempt and money laundering and stealing status figures greatly in this whole grander subject of political lies and occult twisting and mockery. That is not an opinion.) I'm sure that in their own way, all these tragically dead soldiers and their wives could be called "fit." While you're getting smutty in that hole, consider the life and doings and strange Russian larceny stories of Robert Kraft, owner of the New England Patriots and some other profitable stuff. He just happens to like hanging out with Jay-Z and Meek Mill, and cares deeply about prison reform. The darkness i refer to in the story of Kobe Bryant is what it is, and that can also be researched on the internet if you know how to operate it. But we should try to remember that Kobe Bryant was an individual human being, and that it is systems, colleges secret and otherwise, and corporations that in the end very often turn these people into something fouler than they were originally. In our natures, the great majority of us are decent and humane. And some corporations, similarly, are much more evil than others.