Smoking Mirrors — April 27, 2016
Dog Poet Transmitting…….
“If voting made a difference, it would be illegal (Mark Twain). I guess we can ask George to comment on the matter. It seems to me we have a choice every four years between sold out dickhead number one and sold out dickhead number two. It’s like that Mexican firefighter who named his twins A: Jose and Hose B. Jesus, Visible, that is not politically correct. Uh huh… and neither is Visible. I find myself going out of my way not to be politically correct on purpose, which is a kind -zero sum game. Then there are the Rothschilds. You can find out anything these days.
Here is the thing about bankers. They deal with numbers and that means that human life is just a cipher. Nothing is so rare as a banker’s tears. People talk about the devil and they talk about god but they understand neither. Talk is the origin of the wind and as we should note, it blows all around us. The devil is God, as he is seen by the wicked. There is only one force that aspects itself according to the desires and perceptions of the one engaging it. You have to understand that it is all about you. Everything is based on how you see it and interpret and label it; according to that is your world made what it is. The term ‘ayin’ is translated as ‘the eye’. It is also the term that refers to The Devil card in Tarot. This should make one aware of the power of appearances and the fact that they are a lie and conceal the light behind the darkness of their obscuring force.
I don’t know much but I think the few things I do know are of cardinal importance, at least they are for me. There are millions of things that I have no curiosity about and that is because some things are primary, some things are secondary and then tertiary and so on and so on. For myself, I care only about those things that will bring me closer to the ineffable. Everything else is garbage to me.
I do not fear governments or the power of deluded religions. I do not fear any power or force in this world. What I fear is to displease my author. I am only here for a little while. I may well be in other environs for a good deal longer. Of course, time is relative. It takes longer to pass in one place than it does another. Time is different in a prison cell than it is in a day at the beach. One might presume the same applies to Heaven and Hell. Then again, both of these exist in the mind. There are locations where there is not time at all. Time is a great deal like gravity. Both of these will eventually make you bent over in your passage and possibly assisted by a cane.
Let us quote Lord Byron from Don Juan;
“Who hold the balance of the world? Who reign
O’er congress, whether royalist or liberal?
Who rouse the shirtless patriots of Spain? [*]
(That make old Europe’s journals squeak and gibber all.)
Who keep the world, both old and new, in pain
Or pleasure? Who make politics run glibber all?
The shade of Buonaparte’s noble daring? —
Jew Rothschild, and his fellow-Christian, Baring.
Those, and the truly liberal Lafitte,
Are the true lords of Europe. Every loan
Is not a merely speculative hit,
But seats a nation or upsets a throne.
Republics also get involved a bit;
Columbia’s stock hath holders not unknown
On ‘Change; and even thy silver soil, Peru,
Must get itself discounted by a Jew.”
It’s what it is. People can argue about the matter from one pole to another but the truth is what it is and why it winds up beaten, bloody and alone in an alley. People that argue have reasons for their position. Sometimes they are paid. Sometimes they are in fear and sometimes they are confused but history has long recorded the reality. The beauty of the truth is that it does not mind being beaten or abused through whatever medium it has chosen to express itself in. It lives forever. I daresay, very little else does besides Love. Ergo… Love of The Truth seems to be, to me, the greatest pursuit of all.
We’ve said here many times, when the truth takes off her clothes, the world disappears. Please file that thought for a more lengthy consideration. We don’t seem to have the time or initiative to pursue important thoughts. The world is too much with us. We labor under intensities of force from conning towers very similar to cell phone towers, where subliminal messages come into our subconscious every day. The good news is that god is in charge and if you incline that way, you will be alright; regardless of whether you live or die. Residence here is temporary in any case. It is what you do here and what you are here that marks the itinerary of your passage onward.
Let us say you wind up in Columbus Ohio and you have a stay over; which translates into a lifetime. That is not the best place I can imagine to spend your time but what you do while you are there will account for where you get manifested into following after, whether that be a cockroach in a west Philly tenement or a rat into Baltimore’s version of Chinatown, or somewhere so filled with light that you can hardly see for awhile. The thing is that this is really in your hands. No matter where you are, you do your best. It might seem like it is not enough but it is not the world you have to please, or even yourself. You have to please the one who put you in a position to do your best.
All over this world there are some number of people who are doing their best. Some of the greatest heroism and sacrifice goes unnoticed. Some of the greatest service occurs under the radar. As much as we have lost hope in this world, there are many who have not lost hope, who are not caught in the thrall and madness of confused desire. Though we are separated by distance and sometimes by variations on a theme, we are conjoined in our common goal to be free. We help each other with every small act of awareness in the moment. We are what we do and we do as we think and feel and that… according to what influences us. For myself, regardless of my human error, I rise every day in the hope that I might suddenly… and one day it will be true… be a better person; serving more tirelessly and purpose-filled than ever before.
In the end… as in the beginning… every little thing counts. Every opportunity in every day is another chance to outdo yourself, given all the failures of the past. It’s kind of like that poem, The Hound of Heaven. It’s too long and at times, self indulgent but I’ll just post the opening lines-
I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped;
And shot, precipitated,
Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears,
From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
But with unhurrying chase,
And unperturbèd pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat–and a Voice beat
More instant than the Feet–
“All things betray thee, who betrayest Me.”
I think the last line says everything I would say were I capable.