Smoking Mirrors — July 25, 2014
Dog Poet Transmitting…….
May your noses always be cold and wet.
It has been a feature of my life that I read a lot of books and that includes a preponderance of novels. The last four novels that came into my hands were bad enough that I had to throw them away before finishing them. I now find myself in possession of the latest offering from Frederick Forsyth called, “The Kill List”. This author is one of the most popular out there and he’s written some compelling efforts, most notably, “The Day of the Jackal”, “The Odessa File” and “The Dogs of War”. I don’t usually buy his books for the same reason that I don’t read Tom Clancy and that is because the subject matter is not in my area of interest but… I got this book and I have to say, after only a few pages, I found myself stunned… shocked! This is one of the most wet colon works I have ever seen. It is a word for word duplication of the official lies concerning 9/11, Bin Laden, Omar and all the other fall guys listed in the official fantasies. It’s as if someone was standing over his shoulder and dictating to him what he was supposed to say. It’s also an example of some of the most piss poor writing I have ever had the displeasure of coming into contact with. It’s as if some unseen entity came by with one of those astral vacuum cleaners and sucked every bit of talent and ability out of this now bankrupt word clown.
This guy is one of the richest and most successful writers of fiction around. On the first page he is referred to as an INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALIST! He possesses ‘effortlessly cool reality and insider information’ What a hoot! I’ve been noticing the widespread knuckle under epidemic for some time from artists of every stripe. The people who sign the checks (and we know who that is- the same people who print the money) have apparently laid down the law and the majority of these hacks, already in possession of more money than they will ever spend, have bobbed their Nodwell heads and said, “Yowsah Boss! I’m not saying that this author hasn’t written pro forma, party line garbage before. He has but this… you really have to read the first couple of dozen pages to see what I mean. Even though it is a new paperback and worth something (for reasons I cannot fathom), I am going to tear it apart and throw it in my waste can. I intend to spare any future reader, who might come into possession of this copy, the potential agony of wading through it and I don’t want it on my karma that I left this laying around for anyone to pick up. Let me pause right here and tear this book apart. Oh yeah! That did it.
It continuously amazes me what people will sacrifice and toss aside in order to stay current and in good standing with the status quo; integrity, out the window, dignity, ditto, honor… let me help you out,which way did you come in? Compared to sucking up to the master race and getting to shake hands with mass murderers, how can these qualities compare in value? I’m guessing that regardless of their political persuasions, most people, given an invite to meet the monster in the white house, or any of the other movers and shakers would not hesitate. I’d send a quenelle and an apology card about a scheduling conflict. I might even mention that I am already firmly committed to go and watch the moss grow on a particular tree in a particular woodland setting.
You got to hand it to them and… the cosmos certainly is going to do that. They got some stones to go bombing hospitals and schools. In no other race on Earth are MOST of the members evil but that is the case with this one. World wide outrage is shaking the atmosphere. Few believe their transparent BS. Meanwhile, it’s 24/7 “Putin is Evil!!!” The world as we knew it is in the shallows of the river bed and the dam has broken upstream. There is a roaring sound in the air but most everyone has no idea what is causing it. Is it a train? Is it a low flying aircraft? Is it Netanyahu farting out of both sides of his mouth? Sooner or later, mostly sooner, in cases like this, sound turns into substance.
What kind of race of creatures, simulated humans but not human, goes on TV and says that the only way to stop the freedom fighters whose land you stole is to rape their wives and daughters? Right along with all of the horrid statements and acts of these rabid Morlocks comes the two houses of the American Congress passing bill after bill supporting Israel. They’re falling all over each other to out Israel First each other. They sold out their country. They betrayed their constituents… it can’t end well and it won’t. Any minute now… any minute now, some form of gamechanger is going to hit and nothing will ever be the same again. That’s a good thing if it means it will never the the same again as it is now.
I don’t know what the relevance of these things are. We live in a slaughterhouse and as time has gone by the very worst among us have risen to the highest points of temporal authority. What this means is that they have gone as far as they can go. They have turned on the lights. They have stepped out upon the stage and they have identified themselves through word and deed to the eyes of the world. They have made the necessary spectacle of themselves for the purpose of demonstration and it cannot be undone. They may think they are one-eyed Jacks but we have seen the other side of their face. It is not for us to walk in their footsteps and those who in ignorance applaud the carnage they leave in their wake, they have dammed themselves as well. It is as it should be.
Our calling is to amplify our love. The heart is a muscle. Any muscle will grow strong if you exercise it. We must apply the action of a bellows upon the flame of our love and fan it into a conflagration. Love is the universal solvent. It is the cosmic vitriol. It reduces everything to its essential being and illuminates or consumes it. Love is the most personally limited and misunderstood of all our assets. It is so much more than we will ever fathom or comprehend. It is the incandescent lifeblood of the soul. It is the magic carpet of continuance. It is eternal and it renders those who possess it immortal because they share in its nature. There is no stronger force in all the universe and though we nay not recognize it, it is what animates us and gives us life. Though we mis-handle and misunderstand it, it understands us very well.
We are composites of many things and all of them war for supremacy in our being. It is for the one thing to which we give the greater portion of ourselves to define us accordingly. Why should that not be love that becomes stronger in us than any other thing? We are not commanded or compelled to love everything in everyone. Rather we are commanded and compelled to find something, even if it is only one thing, to love in every other thing and which will feed and nourish that one thing to the exclusion of all else and cause it to grow in a greater proportion to everything else in every living thing. It is the shining sun at the center of our being that shines on and gives sustenance to everything it is directed at. We water it with our tears of sorrow and joy.
It is common during our time here to feel that we are private when we are not private, alone when we are not alone and unseen when we are seen at all times. The very judgment of our being looks out from our eyes as we proceed from that first event of our arrival, to that final event of our departure. Even if this were not true, we would be a far better person to live as if it were and the beauty is that it is true. It is, to me, the most obvious of everything. I can hardly look at anyone or anything without it soon revealing this very truth to me.
Nature and the cosmos are personified in giving. There is not a mature fruit bearing tree that does not bring forth more fruit than any one person can eat. There is not a moment that the greatest of all object lessons, the sun, does not shine upon us. Has it gone to the other side of the world? It is still shining. Have the clouds obscured it? It is still shining. Truth is like that. In time like these it can become completely obscured but it’s still there. It is there for those for whom the pursuit of it is a grand passion. That is who it will reveal itself to. Even if it were glittering like a mountain of diamonds in the city square, it would still be obscured from the eyes of the profane and when it by grace or great effort deigns to reveal itself it is always an internal matter. We become what we pursue. We become that which is the greater compulsion in each of us.
Our destiny is nothing more or less than our arrival at that place where what we love the most resides. Collectively and individually, people can turn their world into shit or the truest gold. Intention defines the product and where love has been employed in its fashioning, I will leave it to your imagination what the result must surely be. Amplify your Love. Exercise your love. Make it the primary occupation of your life. Let it take you and remake you according to the form and function of the mysterious author of it. It came from somewhere… trace it back. Love is conscious. It you are looking for Love, Love is looking for you.