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Smoking Mirrors — Sept 20, 2014

Dog Poet Transmitting…….
May your noses always be cold and wet.
Does something like this deserve a comment? Let us say the heat is definitely on when they start lampooning themselves, however unintentional it may be. Things like this prove that there is no need to deny their special holocaust. All one is required to do is to mention the tens of millions they killed in Russia, The Ukraine, Armenia and other places. Then… it becomes a matter of Karma. Certainly the Karma was minor by comparison but this whole sordid mess of contemporary life ain’t over yet. Apparently underneath these structures they have also found The Ark of the Covenant, which is a force generating object that disseminates lies adapted to any time zone it operates in. I’m glad I cleared that up.
Yes… they are definitely feeling the heat and when they feel the heat they take the usual steps to contain the outrage they inevitably generate by their hostile actions against the rest of humanity on and on it goes as it heads off to dreadful epiphany.
It should be pretty clear what is going on though the mass of the public refuses to see. I have witnessed video tape of poll workers putting Yes votes in the No pile. During a conversation the day before the vote I remember saying to someone, “The vote doesn’t matter because the results will most certainly be rigged and there is only one reason to rig votes and that is because if the votes are not rigged, the outcome will be different.
Given who is behind the disarray and disorder of these times, you know that they will stop at nothing to maintain the status quo. Keep in mind that if you are hearing about these things, much worse has taken place and is taking place.
In America, that branch of Satanic Control International, is busy importing new voters so that a rotating automat of replicating faces can become dictator for life. One figurehead replaces the last. All sense of propriety and decency have fled can one expect justice in environments like this? It cannot end well for many.
I sit high on the mast in the crow’s nest of my life and I look with my spyglass in all directions. I am looking for land. I am looking for a place to land; somewhere to wait out the Denouement of The Dark Lord. I find places and Whoosh… they are rife with enemy agents whose efforts are directed toward getting me to land there or… because of this feature, a host of other opportunities are rendered questionable. Does one dare to tempt fate, when fate has been routinely displaying a vicious and convincing backhand? Does one return to former environs (presently on the table), which one departed from for reasons that are now much more prominent than they were? Given that ones capacity for trust has been severely violated and given… that doubt and distrust are two of the chief conditions being internationally distributed from the ghost/wraith conning towers, transmitting waves of dark narcotic subliminal sound into the collective subconscious… well… one must step back a pace, draw in ones breath, exhale slowly and ponder the paucity of good guidance, as communications from both the visible and invisible realms become muted. Is this the result of internal filters (hardly possible) or the final punishing last gasp of a dying regime of tyranny; tyranny of the soul, tyranny of the mind, tyranny of the heart, chained and subjugated in the dark, perpetually broken on the wheel of mysterious fate… to bleed out into gray pastures in need of color but… for that you need light.
You know what I often think of? I think of what happens when white light is shot through a prism. At the other end, these brilliant colors emerge. It seems that all of these colors are contained in the white light. This then, logically, takes my mind to the snow crowned heights of the Himalayas; the Andes, the Alps, the Canadian Rockies. During their brief summer, the heat of the sun (think metaphor) causes the white snow of pure mathematics to melt and run down into the valleys, through all of the multitudes of tributaries in search of the sea. They overrun their banks in the valleys and from that congress of Sun and Earth and water there comes all the colorful profusion that composes the natural world.
In times of darkness, the natural world is made unnatural. Study if you will, the naked male and female forms. Note their conjunctions and the potential of their connective interplay. From this dance comes all generative replication and all technology. Consider the emotions as technical demonstrations of hot and cold conversions of The One Thing. From the conclusions he gains, Mr. Visible is convinced that he knows shit. He is also convinced that he knows… shit. Presently, The Zero Theorum is playing alongside of the posting in progress. You have to give it to Terry Gilliam, he is both entertaining and educative; one of the good guys, like my beautiful departed brothers; Buckminster Fuller and Terrance McKenna, of whom it may be said, on the one hand, the work of positive imagination created dream worlds of possibility that have been summarily ignored and on the other hand through ingestation of the spirit of Nature saw similar in a differential aspect. “Oh… I ain’t got no body… yadda yadda yadda ya.”
You know that you have entered The Dark Night of the Soul (which definitely doesn’t last just one night) when the appearance of all support has been removed and you are left with the impression that you are going it alone. It’s at this point that things like suicide and portals of possible escape present their luminous lies of release, where release is by no means possible. This counterpoints the ‘footsteps in the sand’ poem of which most readers are familiar and for which no link will be given; no footprints? No link.
You go right and you got Hank Williams. You go left and you got Ozzie Osbourne. You can’t go back but if you did you’d probably find Stephen Foster and ahead, you might find me or any one of the rest of us that don’t give up. I thought I knew what heavy was. I had no idea. I suppose the treachery angle cuts the deepest. It’s primarily because it wasn’t really necessary. It accomplished nothing but to add weights to the heart. However, since the heart is already sinking into a sea of Love well… Bon Voyage.
I hadn’t had all that much up close and personal experience of religious and philosophical hypocrites, so maybe that is a necessary part of the learning. Sometimes… I suppose, given the severity of the highway traveled, one tends to trust too much. That seems to be the very opposite of what one might expect on the surface but… all that grief has been very much like a sword cutting deeper into the reservoir of being.
I’m getting a lot of communications that tell me this viscous sludge through which I trudge is everywhere to be found and… as such… difficult to avoid. Forget the maps and charts, the GPS systems, the traditions and systems that, at any other time, might well have proven useful. True North can no longer be found on any gauge. One must move on faith and instinct, knowing… knowing that when all the guiding signs have been pulled from the side of the road and all of the fixed stars moved for mysterious purpose, perhaps one finds that continuance is truly an internal affair and in truth… there is nothing ‘out there’.
End Transmission…….
Radio broadcast at the usual time and place.

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