Covington Catholics, Gosnell Zombies, Jussie Smollett, Incredibly Stupid Tattoos and the Providence of an Internal Sun

Reflections in a Petri Dish – Jan 31, 2019

Dog Poet Transmitting…….
(Busy with the book so… blog postings will be catch as catch can. However… today is a must and this being the Petri Dish turn and the Hog Lagoon of the American Left now exploding from the pressure of igneous shit in a molecular intensification of igneous shit, like a flaming tornado swirling in the biggest toilet ever known… some things just have to be brought to your attention, in case you missed some of them.)
In Covington, where some of the youth has still not been brainwashed into Gender Bender Purgatory, or taken to wearing Free Dr. Gosnell T-shirts, when news came out about a (in reality) non-confrontation between a young Catholic high school student and a Native American; both in search of publicity for their side of an issue, neither of which was relevant, in this case, between the two; a Saturday Night Live (writer) publicly offered a blow job to anyone who would “punch that Maga kid in the face”
Ironically and a dark shade too conveniently, an actor from a cable series called Empire was allegedly attacked by two guys wearing Maga hats who also put a noose around his neck, called him a faggot and beat him up. Take a look at the photo and the massive damage done to this ‘victim of a hate crime’. The usual suspects are crying out for Trump to disavow the association of his hats with this attack and I’m definitely getting a Maga hat. It’s mentioned that a camera sees the actor walking down the street but nothing about any assailants being caught on film because… well… there weren’t any. Not everyone is fooled by this charade. I’ve recently come across this man from the Seventh Day Adventists; I think that he’s associated with them; sorry if I’m wrong. He has a nice way about him.
As tragic as the days may be, here in the land of ‘what’s in it for me and the home of the slave’, there are still moments of amusement to be found. Apparently there was a religious reason for this, as one of the whirling dervish stench dancers revealed to an airline employee; not for stinking but for being kicked off. It is my informed certainty that they did this on purpose in order to sue the airline. They should be locked in a room with Jussie Smollett. We have to look for episodes where the sunlight is dancing over the tension wires of the time. Personally I am seeing evidence of the ineffable , more often than at any time in my life in decades. I’m waiting for that signal moment. That moment that will send the dominoes of revelation, tumbling across the Hollywood facade of badly woven lies. I’m waiting on the glory and splendor to break forth with the dawn of a long awaited awakening from sea to shining sea. That’s what’s in it for me!
Are people flat out losing their minds in droves? There’s a lot of evidence of this. If you scroll down the page of this tabloid and look at the pictures to the right, it’s clear that those in control of the media are desperate to seduce the clueless into Z-list celebrity worship. The toilet paper inventor has a lot to answer for, because back in the day, newspapers like this had a useful purpose but now people read them instead. The lady with the tattoo that really doesn’t look much at all like Harry Stiles, reminds me of a joke I heard some years ago; a lady walks into a tattoo parlor and asks the ink master to put an image of John Lennon on one thigh and Paul McCartney on the other. Once he was done, the lady looked at the final product in the mirror and said, “Well, that doesn’t look like them at all.” The inker said, “Lady, that’s as close as you are going to get. I see the resemblance.” She retorted, “I’m going to get a second opinion on that. I’m not paying for shoddy work!” So… she walked out of the tattoo joint and nearly runs into a drunk who was trying to make his way down the street. She grabs him and stops him. Then she pulls up her dress and asks, “Do these tattoo’s look like John Lennon and Paul McCartney?” The drunk squints for a moment and says, “Mam, I don’t know about those two but the guy in the middle is definitely Willie Nelson.”
Dumb and getting dumber are truly remarkable. I ask myself, how can people who went to colitch and are employed in high profile positions not be terminally embarrassed at their low jinx displays? Most especially when they have a senior moment right in the middle of their press conference. Good grief!!!
It’s too bad people don’t have the same concerns about people.
It’s really going nuts out there and I am guessing that when the cultural offal hits the fan of all fans in the wind tunnel of time, it’s going to be London where it really goes off the hook. Presently the Parisian Storm Troopers, going Medieval on the Yellow Vests, puts them ahead by a nose, in the race to Global Village Armageddon …but London has so many of the elements necessary for full blown chaos to manifest.
Her face is everywhere and she came out of nowhere, where she used to tend bar (like Obama); one more Monarch Butterfly in search of her Sacher-Masoch moment, as Venus on the Macht Schnell (alright Visible, don’t get too cute). Well, I’m feeling a tad punish. Good grief an entendre yet! And that happened without my help and right before my eyes. Am I alone in here? It looks like I am but it doesn’t feel like it and… appearances are deceiving; very deceiving for that matter, these days. All things considered, I feel like humming a few bars of Alexandra Leaving (with her horned lord- to paraphrase some lyrics from the song.) I’ve probably lost everyone by this time, in a flurry of associations, inferences and innuendos; god I’m good (grin). And I hardly even went to Colitch! I’d be one of those really dry martinis, where you turn and look giving a sideways glance at the bottle of Vermouth and then you pour the gin into the glass.
Speaking of Monarch Butterflies and Dumber and Dumber.
Mr. Apocalypse is doing the not so light Fan Tango with a Kabuki mask. The fan, of course, is a martial arts weapon. One thing the bad liars don’t get is that eventually even really stupid people are going to see through their fabrications and they’re really going to be pissed, if only because, deep inside they know that they weren’t supposed to see or hear any of this. Here they were, blithely walking off the cliff, when they caught themselves in one of those, “wait a minute’ moments. Somebody is definitely going to pay for that.
Yes… Mr. Apocalypse can do subtle like no other and especially when that which he is acting upon is anything but subtle. “Hello! Comet Ping Pong Pizza, how can I help you?” “Yeah… we’d like one of your pulled pork specials, with the hog nostrils sliced really thin and extra Hellfire Sauce.” “You got it!”
I can’t possibly make a prediction here on what’s going to come out of the fluff and gurgle of this last gasping, dead culture walking …but it is surely going to be entertaining, if viewed from the other side of a bridge too far. Tom Waits will definitely be doing the soundtrack, interspersed with agonizing moments of pregnant silence, just before the shudders start to roll up and down the necks of the werewolves and vampires in three piece suits, caught in the headlights and… how am I going to traverse the distance between this posting and back to the book I’m working on? This is definitely why I am NOT paid the big bucks …but I’ve got my own invisible 401k, gathering interest in the place that time forgot. I’m comfortable with that… very, very comfortable. I took out a loan from a spiritual bank and have been putting it to work in certain efforts that are going to be measured against a feather in a scale at some point or… maybe I’m in the wrong allegory… uh yeah, never mind; another time, another place. It all works out; not always the way some people wish it did but then… they should have known the end from the beginning.
Well… as we draw this blog entry to a close, I wish those of you to whom it applies, a warm space for the time needed. Here the temperature is temperate and shall remain so. We’ve tried to make light of certain increasing and expanding features that tell me, revolution is in the air. At some point, Push and Shove are going to find themselves in the same room and it’s going to prove too small no matter what size it is. What shape it will take and how dramatic it may become is not clear to me. What I do know is that the ones who are certifiably crazy from what I can see and which I have been studying at a distance for a considerable period of time, are in no mood for compromise and being deeply wrong at a deeper level, does not bode well for those whom they imagine are in their way. My considered advice is that those of us who are sane, or relatively so, keep a weather eye out and be mindful of the inner grace of the divine who, no matter what appearances may tell us, is ALWAYS more powerful than anything that is or ever has been. May God extend his providence upon you at all times and in all places where you may find yourself. God willing we shall all find ourselves.
End Transmission…….

Without a Clue

 

 

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