Hanging Upside Down and Bat Shit Crazy in Soft Stool Guano Land.

Smoking Mirrors — May 14, 2018

Dog Poet Transmitting…….
The treacle and saccharine sludge just keep sliding down the dirty walls of a decaying culture. The lies, the lies, the lies. In the world of American politics, the degree of loathsome cannot be measured. The bars that mark the descent are all below ground. Turn over any rock and you find another Gila Monster. John McCain is such a character. Now the crocodiles weep in the alley behind the Chinese restaurant, break dancing with the dumpster rats. For years we have seen him posing with terrorists and backing mass murder throughout the Middle East. Many people do not like him. His trail of toxic fewmets stretches back over the horizon. Now you can go back and read the slavish puff piece in the first link, AFTER you’ve seen his photo opp here.
Mr. Apocalypse strides across the landscape in his long black coat. He taps at the macadam with his gnarled cane, atop which sits a cobra with expanded hood and ruby eyes. Is it an illusion, the sound of hissing, like air escaping from a tire? The cobra seems to be annoyed. Cobras are incensed at lies. They sit in a rank of seven over the head of the enlightened, whose Kundalini has taken the internal elevator to the penthouse of consciousness. They protect him/her.
Naked greed is not pretty. Jeff Bezos could end the homelessness problem in Seattle with his pocket change. Instead? Read the article. Last year, a hundred and sixty nine people died from exposure on the streets of Seattle. Seattle has over 11,500 homeless people. This is largely due to the huge increase in rents. People cannot make enough money to pay for a place to live. It’s the Silicon Valley flu that is rendering the Pacific Northwest uninhabitable except for rich people. For shame.
Many strange things are afoot as Mr. Apocalypse walks along the periphery and between the parameters of madness. Imagine something like this, right out there in the broad daylight. Wow!
Every day there is a new term for the expanding and intricate nature of sexual dysfunction. The language and concerns of the people in the article is bizarre to say the least; “I’m pear-shaped. I’ve got a tummy, man-titties and a big squishy butt. I also have a nice haircut, a clean face and a nice smile.” How wonderful for you. The future is in free fall, even though it never arrives. It is an interesting feature of time that very few people see and that is that the moment we are in is the only place we can ever be. There is only now and ever will be. Strange things happen to people who can sink into the moment. The moment has a trick feature where it expands and expands, until the sensation is as if the waterfall of eternity were pouring through it.
There is no past. There is only the mind reaching behind. There is no future. There is only the mind reaching ahead. Most everyone lives in a fantasy world of manufactured, imaginary time zones. When you are young you live in the future and when you get older you live in the past. There is projection and reflection and it has the atmosphere of a dream. It is dreamlike. Like a movie playing on the mind-screen. It just goes by and eventually you wonder where it went and did it happen? The wheel of fire turns endlessly. It is the fire of desire and it flows from one life to the next.
What takes place in my heart and mind cannot be spoken of. Informed people have known this for centuries. Meher Baba let his silence speak for him. He said that the day would come when he would speak one word but… he never did. I remember the “Don’t worry, be happy” posters that were all over San Francisco back in the day. I remember the promise and hope of those times. Then Death Disco came in the 70’s. Greed is good came in the 80’s. Grunge and junkie music came in the 90’s, along with rap and a plethora of designer drugs. Materialism swallowed the world. It’s an endless line of perfect asses with beads of water glistening on them; spreadeagled on a car, holding a glass of liquor, falling down in the cross walk in ankle breaker, Jimmy Choo Shoes, while texting the Easter Bunny. I am fascinated by cell phone culture. It is some kind of resonant hypnotics that links millions on an invisible web of radiant darkness.
Hours and days go by and the air is filled with the sounds of billions of fingers thumb-humping the cellphones. For some reason I am immune. I don’t know why that is but I am not alone in this regard. Under this cover of poisonous darkness, terrible messages are being radiated from coning towers that look like something out of War of the Worlds.
Once again, there are no words to express the sense of what I get from the raging epidemic of cellphone crazy. It’s some kind of zombie thing. It is automatically unconscious and reflexive. It is as surely an addiction as anything injected with a needle. I watch them, hours and days go by. Young girls race down crowded streets at 35 miles an hour, texting with both hands and seeing nothing but the phone screen. From our front porch in Ocean City I could watch this scene repeat endlessly. The hairs would stand up on the back of my neck. They didn’t look down the cross streets. They just blazed right through them. The attitude of some of the culprits are truly special. They think it is amusing. I can’t understand why. Here is a classic fail; what can you say about something like this? One last example of batshit crazy.
This all brings me to the point that has been rotating in my head and which I think is the answer to why this accelerating insanity is taking place and is going to become more and more extreme with a plague of mass shootings and suicides attendant. Materialism is incipient and then logarithmic, exponential insanity. There is no cure except for the dissolution of the construct and this is why cultures fail and disappear. It doesn’t have to be cellphones. It can be whatever the combinations of crazy are. Warfare is a constant in the process of materialism. The disparities between rich and poor are a constant. In America where materialism is in its most intense and pervasive state, the culture turns into a prison planet and the profit driven private prison industry demands an ever increasing number of convicts. In times of material darkness, crime is rampant. Race wars are fomented and sexual perversity is off the charts and the singular and most important news items of the day. Materialism is a Bermuda Triangle like whirlpool of madness.
You are in it. It is up close. It surrounds you and you can’t see it. Most crazy people do not know that they are crazy. As materialism increases crazy becomes the new sane. No one notices it because it happens incrementally. It is a step by step pirouette off the cliff. Surely from Point A to point S, one can see the evidence of the progression but those being driven crazy only see the individual passage from one point to the next. One day they are ‘there’ but they don’t know how they got there. At first it was just a neighborhood street. One walks up or down it through a familiar landscape. Then, like a video game one suddenly sees that they are in twisted nightmare of unfamiliar places. A couple of days ago they were walking down Lexington Avenue. Now they are in East St. Louis. How did it happen?
I am constantly reminded of the poem by Yeats, “The Second Coming” I know that for most people, being inside the material bubble, being rocked to sleep (grin) by commercials and redundant deus ex machina, filled with crotch cutting jeans and tuna fish brains who, in seeking escape swim ever deeper into the mix, as if darkness were some intimation of safety; ‘If I can’t see them then they can’t see me in that place where everything is done in Braille with Helen Keller curb feelers.
Slowly and deliberately they render their celebrities, more and more stupid, looking for a genuine reflection of the public, Jennifer Lawrence watching the Kardashians. There’s an epiphany in there somewhere, reversed on itself, instead of an awakening, simply a deeper sleep; ‘miles to go and promises to keep’ Somewhere in the alcoholic night of corruption and despair, only to find there’s no there there.
It has to be that underneath all the hype and depravity, something marvelous is percolating and in an instant, all at once, the grand awakening takes place and the desperadoes are caught flatfooted. There is a roar and a rising like a stadium wave and the dawn of simultaneous recognition rivets every soul in place. It can’t be undone. They never saw it coming, as their minds were fixed on looting and rape. God rose up in every set of eyes; some with redemption and some with disgrace; to each according to his need in that place where intention defines us all… some strange mixture of fire and ice.
End Transmission……



Smoking Mirrors looks at much of what the mainstream media ignores. While in Profiles in Evil, he seeks to expose those shrouded in darkness to nature’s most powerful disinfectant, light.