Smoking Mirrors – May 14, 2011
Dog Poet Transmitting…….
‘May the levees hold and your dog stay dry’.
The Big Muddy is coming and it’s going to put a gut shot into the belly of the American farming industry. You can’t murder brown people in far away lands indefinitely, for the purpose of a privileged lifestyle for people who worship a psychopathic Jesus. The real Jesus wouldn’t go anywhere near your John Wayne Gacy Jesus, made in your image, instead of the other way round; listening to Alan Jackson songs about, “where were you on that day in September”? I’ll tell you where I’ve been, studying things like this and understanding that some people cannot be let near the banking and education systems.
One of the great newspapers of our time, The Pakalert Press, published that; one more reason to kill brown people who know the truth. We know what to do with brown people, who know the truth and prefer lies for their own benefit; who reverse The Emancipation Proclamation, converting themselves into willing slaves for The Empire. We put them into public office and then conceal everything that can be known about them. That’s how you get your Bwak Obama’s and Charlie Rangel’s. That’s where you get your blowhards like Jessie Jackson (Chicago Machine) and Al Sharpton’s and when someone such as Louis Farrakhan comes around and tells the truth, they get slander and ignominy, because another thing certain people shouldn’t be in charge of is the media.
A culture is damned when it turns to trivial indulgences and offers up its integrity and honor for a piece of the action. Well, the people who should not be allowed to be in charge of anything have looted the stores and bankrupted you, while you follow an imaginary Jesus, with an unforgiving whip hand, over brown people in far off lands. Tornadoes and floods are just the beginning. You have ignited the wrath of Nature and you will reap the whirlwind. Floods and Earthquakes are lining up over the runaway of the present day, like something out of “Pushing Tin” and you just nod your head like a plastic flamingo on a drinking glass; like a ridiculous hood ornament on an SUV. You’re a nation of nodwells. You don’t want the truth but the truth is looking for you. There’s no reverse gear on The Apocalypse. It’s full speed ahead.
Fukushima is melting down and an enormous Magellan-like cloud is motoring to the American homeland. The perpetrators and predators are migrating to South America and leaving you to your doom. They’ve stolen everything that wasn’t nailed down and then they came back with crowbars. Bad Jesus, a fairytale for the minds of Dumb and Dumber, is one of the principal players. He’s riding on the dashboard of your car. He’s working for the TSA. Well, at least Texas has had enough of that. It’s easy to see that the next step is secession. You can count on that.
The second half of May looms ominously. There are surprises coming, because the more you won’t wake up, the more you are going to be woken up to the judgments of disaster on your doorstep. I’ve told this tale before, “When the divine wants to wake you up, first you get a gentle tapping on your shoulder. Then you get more roughly shaken and then? And then the divine shows up with a two by four”.
What’s coming on your televisions that churn out lies like an infected ice cream maker; more reality TV and what’s the result of that? You are going to wind up on reality TV, praying like Tweedledee and Tweedledum for Bad Jesus to come and save your plastic world and maybe kill a few more brown people at a distance. That’s why they put a brown psychopath in the White House. Mr. Empty Suit thinks he’s thinks he’s Henri Christophe. He’s bound for the iron maiden of history. He’s bound for the rack and the wheel of karma along with all of his fellow travelers.
I don’t know how much truth is in this video but if you’ve got 2.5 hours, it is riveting viewing. The things I don’t know can make my head spin, if I wasn’t already rotating around my own interior star. The more that gets concealed, the more surfaces and the less attention gets paid. Feed your face; masturbate to pneumatic blowup sluts, who are now standing where that lady with the torch in Columbia Pictures used to stand. These days all she does is bend over and she can do some really kinky things with that torch; of course, the torch had to be put out for those efforts. She’s no one trick pony though. She can do all kinds of things on her knees and so on and so forth. She’s what you’ve turned your aspirations and celestial destinies into. You can’t hold forth the light of wisdom and freedom, because you’re too damned scared of the consequences. Therefore you get the consequences, without the satisfaction of standing up for anything. You’d rather go to Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan and kill brown people, while your country gets sold out from under you, by the people who caused all the events that sent you there.
Some things are limitless and ignorance is one of them. You’ve managed to reverse evolution and you’re not that far off from dropping down on all fours, in order to graze in the desert. Maybe you can find some brown people there to attack, with your hooves and claws. Never fear, you probably won’t wind up there. You’re bound for the paddocks and the Judas Goat; bound for the killing floor.
All Hell is about to break loose and it never occurs to you that Bad Jesus is wearing horns; performing auto erotica and cheering you on. “Mom, Jesus is exposing himself to me. He wants me to get in his Hummer and go for a ride”. “Does he have any good candy”? asks the woman who needs two airline seats. It takes six TSA guys to grope her.
It never occurs to you that all of the unemployment has been in the planning for a long time. It provides brainwashed cannon fodder and it sets the table with fear and want, so you dare not complain and you can’t organize with your fellows, because it’s every man for himself. This is what the culture of self-interest teaches. It’s as plain as day, what’s taking place but you can’t see it. You’re too afraid to look and too distracted to see what the purpose of the distractions are. Which of your leaders are saying that Bin Laden died ten years ago? Will they finally tell the truth when they get elected? Will they finally tell the truth when they are in charge? How many bald faced lies did Howdy Doody tell in his presidential campaign?
How many religious leaders are standing forth and telling the truth? How many entertainers with wide exposure are coming forth? Their income and phony public image is more important than the welfare of the people who believed what they had to say. Where are you Bob Dylan? Where are you Leonard Cohen; playing in Tel Aviv. Where are you Crosby, Still’s, Nash and Young? I think Nash is dead, he’s the lucky one. Where are you David Bowie? Where are you Paul McCartney; attending fashion shows and calling yourself, Sir Paul. You’re all cowards sitting on your bank accounts, hoping to be recognized in restaurants and remembered for ‘what you were’.
Where are the writers and public figures? You are icons of shame and hypocrites, whose inspiration has left you, the same way the sand went out of your balls. Go ahead, rub the missing hara on your pot bellies and wonder why you are as you are. Where are the big social engines of environmental protection and all the charities that exist to protect and serve? You’re nothing but tax dodges. You’re all afraid to lose the infinitesimal power of your positions. Collectively you’re not worth one Cynthia McKinney. You’re not worth a single Ken O’Keefe. What’s up with the mealy mouth, George Galloway? Accept a lesser truth and hide from The Big Kahuna? What’s up Jessie Ventura, wriggling like an eel? There you are, sidestepping the obvious and becoming as much of a cartoon as when you were a wrestler.
I’ve said what I have to say today. I’ve been saying it for years now and I will till I’m gone to finer shores. What a pack of cowards. How do you live with yourself? It’s like you just can’t accept what is obviously on the way and what will you do then? What will you do then?
Here’s an homage to all of you; The Big One.
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