Reflections in a Petri Dish — March 4, 2017
Dog Poet Transmitting…….
All that could be seen of Visible was the top of his head, his eyes and his nose, as he slowly streamed through the toxic murk of the swamp of American Culture. As he occasionally looked down into what reminded him of The Dead Marshes on the approach to Mordor; instead of the bodies of ancient warriors, glowing on the radioactive bottom, he saw Rachel Dolezal and various Kardashians, including all the other transparent fakirs of this time, tossing to and fro and entangled in the twisting seaweed-like growth. He didn’t tarry, like the Blue’s Brothers, he was, “on a mission from God.” Gollums to the left of him, Gollums to the right of him, into the delta of dark chaos swam the last of those ‘identifying’ as a Mohican.
Were it not for the horrors of having to act out as one, Visible would like to identify as a retarded gay, black, dyslexic Jew with Tourette’s Syndrome. He would appear to be like Stephen Hawking doing an impersonation of Schrodinger’s Cat. Now that would be a really cool variation of, ‘the old in and out’
And this just in; Barbara Bush gets cozy with her atavistic ancestors AND in a related news item we have our latest Darwin Award’s winner. So… you shouldn’t have to wonder at the previous description of Visible’s passage through allegory or perhaps Purgatory is a better image. We’re not the only ones who have a clue about what’s going on (cue Marvin Gaye). Meanwhile, those Satanists involved in the ruination of all that is sane and reasonable are shooting their lies up with steroids so that their shape-shifting shadow monster has become large enough to blot out the sun. This is war and here is one of the faces of the enemy. Her banal commentary on herself is near epic when it comes to Kewpie Doll self descriptors. She’s the author of that article, which is one of the stepping stones on the way to the LGBTQRSTUVWXYZ contingent shortly outnumbering the rest of us. All lies, all the time!
Sometimes… let’s say occasionally, we sit and muse about what form ‘it’ is going to take. By ‘it’ we mean the world changing moment that stuns us all and transforms both life and the collective consciousness forever. Will it be a world war? Will it be a natural disaster? Will it be the Avatar in full demonstration mode? Will it be a combination of these or visitors from outer space? No one knows the hour or the manner of the coming.
At this point our political leaders are routinely dredged up out of bottom feeder locations and shoehorned into office. Our religious leaders are largely practitioners of ritual ignorance or pedestrian perversions. Our entertainers are permitted on stage based on their willingness to parrot whatever idiocies are demanded of them and talent… or the lack of it, have little importance in relation to the level of importance accorded them. Our educators are in a terminal phase of political correctness. Commerce is conducted according to Satanic principles, whose chief dictate is enforced self interest. The elevation of self interest above every other motivation is one of the primary tenets of Satanism. Look it up.
At every point of commercial, religious and artistic expression, the worst of us have risen to the top levels of success and prominence. Here and there certain rare individuals swim against the tide of corruption. Meanwhile, as has been demonstrated in the latest presidential election, a large portion of the country have not lost their minds or their moral compass. Regardless of what the, almost completely Tribe-owned media showcases, we are not all a pack of clueless Shmoos. We are not all amused at the soulless crap they produce through every outlet at their disposal. We are not all perdition bound as they assuredly are. We are not what we are not, though the opposite is the case for them.
Those who, by their acts we certainly know them, as conscious performers of evil, motivated by evil intent, may not have always been the singular emissaries of evil on this planet. However, as history records, they have been up to no good for as long as history was keeping records . I suspect there are other Klingons loose in the universe and have been, before there was mention being made and in times where the destruction of civilization was so great that no . The face of evil changes but in a material universe of relative polarities. The polarities change in appearance based on valuations given by whatever deluded majorities have agreed upon them. It is harder now to know what is good and what is evil than ever it was. I try not to concern myself with the dancing forms moving in and out of sight on the playing field of the senses. Of far greater concern is the good and evil within and the capacity for accuracy in determining the difference.
Let’s face it, we live in a world where conditions move through stages. We are looking at the grave possibility of a catastrophic tear in the space time continuum. A good example of stages would be like those experienced by a person descending into madness. In the beginning there are periods of clarity. The ‘chatter’ is occasional. Time passes and the clarity diminishes. The volume of the chatter increases and begins to drown out the voice of the primary identity. Occasional irrational behavior occurs. The time comes when irrational behavior is all there is. Now you merely transpose the example of an individual going mad to that of a country going mad and you have the state of the union, personified by a man in a trench-coat outside of an elementary school. I don’t suppose it is necessary to outline what his intentions are.
The greatest difficulty, it seems, is to keep one’s objective focus intact. The force of appearances has the power to enforce accommodation upon anyone who is subjected to them for long enough. It seems like before you know it you have lost your objectivity and become integrated into the composite. Some have never been in possession of an objective focus. It was not permitted to develop. From early days in the home, then into the education system and then into the marketplace, the surround sound of the hum and thrum of the hive has predominated in the public mind. It’s the cradle to grave syndrome; a lockstep march from childhood to senility. It is a rare soul indeed that understands this and has the determination to commit him/her self to the pursuit of liberation from the brier patch.
There are more than a few that are struck with an enthusiasm of the moment, to aspire to a higher state of awareness. Sooner or later, the majority of them fall by the wayside. They take one of the exits from the path and descend into the cauldron of sensation. It is an old, old story that has been recorded in myths and legends and scripture. All the affirmation and evidence anyone can need is right there for the inquiring mind and the passionate heart. One of the reasons that true poets have so little of the desirable items of the world is that they have been blessed with an ardor denied the ones who do have them. One aspect is conferred upon them and that is the love of their opposite number. Should they be capable of translating that attraction into a higher drive, they have a golden ticket, given that the muses already favor them and are closer to ear of God.
There is a reason that the priceless trinity of qualities are made up of ‘faith, certitude and determination’. For one who cares enough to do so, a careful study of what the possession of them conveys will reveal the cause of their value. Faith will grant you both certitude and determination and you will find that is true of the other two. They are a tripod, lacking any of the components takes away the stability of the whole. Reflect on these qualities and you will find that faith and determination are easily remembered but if there is one that is forgotten it is usually certitude. Any time something puzzles me, my mind will not let it rest. At first I thought it was maddening and a burden. Now I am so very grateful for it. Certitude, I have found, is worth more than every item of currency ever minted or printed. Certitude guarantees success, especially with her sisters along for the ride. Now… I know this means little for those ‘who think’ they could care less about success where true certitude will bring them but it means more than the world and all that is in it to me. Some of us have our sights set on places you can’t find on a road map AND you can only find your way with a guide. I know I have said this many times and sometimes had the point argued with me from one side; not from my side, I don’t argue. Take it or leave it. You only, EVER, get so far on your own. I have found this to be so. Find a friend who has been there and done this. Appeal to the heavens that an emissary will be sent your way. Cry out until you are hoarse. Give it everything you got. You will be answered.
Many times I have stated here that all one needs to do is to go into a room or into the wild and pray without ceasing for three days. If you fall down from exhaustion, when you awaken begin again immediately. Take nothing but water with you. As is usually the case you might well feel you have achieved nothing. Do it for seven days. The point is, make it more important than anything else. If you have done it for three days, regardless of results, be confident that you have been heard and are being watched. One day the one who watches you will show up inside of you and like that person descending into madness, the voice will increase in volume and power until it is what you hear, despite the noise of this world.
What I tell you is true as far as I have been permitted to know. Surely there is a reason that I pound the same bucket of sand every day. One day the contents of that bucket of sand will be a stained glass window in the timeless and everlasting cathedral of the almighty god. I hope to see you there.