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Reflections in a Petri-Dish – Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Dog Poet Transmitting…….
May your noses always be cold and wet.
(The Half Past Human report is out and it is a good thing to see, given the positive implications gone missing in recent reports but which now reflect much more what Dog Poet Central has been saying for awhile. I remember back to some indication from these and ‘related sources’ that I was more or less some kid in short pants but maybe it’s only half true and maybe the shorts are two tight. Probably the best thing is to ask the reader; do these jeans make me look fat? I am very glad to have taken away from this report what, for me, are very positive signs completely in line with what I have been thinking and saying. The last new’s release I read from Clif sounded a lot like a suicide note (grin) and it depressed me but I got over it and of course I am exaggerating. I’ve only read halfway through cause I thought I should write a post so there’s still plenty time for gang aft aglay… anyway, here we go. I read the rest and no changes in what I was saying. There is no criticism of Clif and George to be read here. I like those guys. I am just Tom Fooling around a little and I must be Tom Fool, that’s why I have a white dog just like the one in the tarot card The Fool.)
Sold American! Dark shit for dark times. Some people got their eyes on the future and some got their eyes on small people’s behinds. When you go hiking in Hawaii, you got to be careful because it is all lava rock and lava rock can get porous and rotten and you can fall down into honeycombed tunnels and the like, without the honey, or you could fall into them with your honey on your honeymoon, as you may prefer. I bring this up to say that the world economies, in the hands of criminal, vampire bankers is like that lava rock, only much worse and more like Irish peat turf maybe, maybe Scottish moors or African quicksand in some cases. So we are looking at individual and collective missteps of the increasingly more frequent and more highly populated variety.
Gag me with Gaga certainly tells all kinds of tales and as was mentioned in these blogs many times over the years, we are approaching comic farce on a cosmic level. Gaga’s popularity is largely the result of a certain Tribe agenda; like Madonna. The most obvious sign of police state activity manifesting out of the corporate sector, which is often the case, can be seen when they mess with your ability to travel. You really know it’s happening, when you see so many corollary signs happening in multiples. The same heinous interests that bring you the devil in Lady Gaga, are also working the system from the bottom up side; dead sea cosmetics must be downsizing and look for the kosher label of your tax dollars at work, all of this is off stage pushing pianos around for the grand migrations. I hate having to use the crass media to make my point. Oh right, because they own that but it isn’t all of them that’s up to bad shit ( a critical point to remember) and it isn’t all of us and we are all of us, all of us accordingly …sold American! Though we are not American. We B Us. Close the icebox and ignore that covered dish in the back. Oops! The electricity went off. It won’t be long now. The covered dish will let you know it’s there soon enough and… some of you may even have to be thinking about eating it.
We hold these truths to be self reverent. We know about radiation in the low places; cue John Lilly. I’m dreaming of a wide, white Christmas, though some of you may prefer cocaine. And there goes the little drummer boy, hopped up on the Peruvian marching powder, ‘a rump pa bomp bomp’. Hark the crystalline angels snort! Hey, that’s my white line on the freeway comes the outraged retort. Vanity wants two airline seats and the radiation is now on high. That should make for some strange inhalant tunes up in the recycled air of the troubled material night.
So it is that we have Occupy this and Occupy that, square-dancing with gay rights and Tribe fraud on multiple levels, in conjunction with media ownership and ‘can’t help themselves have to print this shit’, doing do see do with war in Iran and it’s time to swing your partner. Aleman left anyone? No? Well then, Aleman right. I don’t have accents on my keyboard, or am too dumb to find them and I definitely don’t want Accent on my mashed potatoes; supposing I was having any. The nostalgia boys upstairs are telling me I should probably go and watch “Pure Country” again. I’m guessing the American heartland needs a triple bypass; Dr Demento to the white courtesy phone. Is that your hand on my knee or am I just engaging in wishful thinking? “Come a little bit closer, you’re my kind of man”!
I don’t know what the rest of you will get from The Shape of Things to Come report from Half Past Human but it dovetails so well with what my invisible friends are telling me. The Vatican is going to crumble and that is going to reshape the world all by itself. “You got to believe” he said with an ironic grin. Believe in what, you might ask? Well, I guess we have to go back to Mithra to answer that question cause it’s all grafting and always has been. Time to call in another surgeon, I guess. This time it’s a plastic surgeon, cause we are in the age of plastic and do these jeans make you look fat?
With all the wild-assed shit going on, we over look the looming possibilities of Lady Nature, in respect of the lack of respect being paid to her and millions of tons of radioactive crap has formed into a massive surfboard headed toward Kalifornia. My first thought is that there have to be scavenger boats headed there, looking for pocket money and salvageable items, according to the law of the sea. Will they find any microwaves that still work? I don’t know. The whole thing will be a microwave, so maybe they should bring some packs of raimen to eat on those stormy waters. Can I get a Raaaiiiiimen, Raaaaiiimen! Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray …don’t call me Ray… Raaaaiiiiimen! No, this is not connected to the Rape of Nanking. However, the Japanese do seem to have some kind of nuclear karma, the same way The Tribe looks suspiciously like they want to neutralize those people. I spent my first five years in Japan in Kyoto/Osaka; the best years of my missing childhood. That’s where I first saw Morihei Ueshiba. I love many elements of Japan but that does not include the nuclear end. You can’t beat them for being polite and having manners.
I love the grace of The East… ah, the mysterious East with names like Samarkand and Mandalay; “On the road to Mandalay, where the flying fishes play and the dawn comes up like thunder, outta China crost the bay”. I know I’m headed East after South Africa, cause that is where Shamballa is; not to mention Shangri La. They need more foot-soldiers for what’s coming and it will be rising out of the mist at some point. I got my invite already; seeing as how I am going to meet a mysterious stranger on the way. You can’t get there without a mysterious stranger. Is Shangri La another name for Shamballa? I even figured out immediately what YAAPMF means from the latest ALTA report and I am not generally very good at that. Did you get it immediately too? Mistress K came to visit me in the last days; gone now (sniff) but I now know Shamballa is real and so we will be writing something called “On the Road to Shamballa” during the trip, along with “The Care and Feeding of the Sweetie” and a video called “House Yoga” with Amarynth; busy busy.
Are you excited like I am; quietly excited anyway? With all the ominous potential, hang gliding over our heads, I feel brimming with incipient certitude. This is also the first time in awhile that the ALTA/Shape of Things to Come report has left me in a positive state. This is all the more affirmative since I read Clif’s little ‘we are totally screwed’ missive a couple or one month ago. Having people like Clif and George around; not to mention the quality of the readers we get here (highest standard of reader intelligence and beauty on the net) is something else. Let’s all have a round of applause in respect of what a fantastic dynamic these blogs are. There must be an ineffable. Sometimes, I feel like nothing more than an afterthought, in relation to what happens here. People come and go (I haven’t heard from Nina or The Village Idiot in a long time) but both directions are filled with the impressive and hard spined endurance, still flexible ‘after all these years’, yeah… still flexible.
Every day feels like Christmas around here. I feel like I change more in one day now than a month would provide in the past. Does the reader feel like a better person? Does the reader have that gut sensation that they just ate in a good restaurant and maybe this blind date will be going home with them? Be sure and catch this Sunday past radio show, as I think it also reflects what is being discussed here. Hopefully one of my favorite web sites won’t find this posting too personal to link (grin). I think it’s important to have some “can I get a witness” vibes around at the moment; “the worms go in, the worms go out, the worms play Pinochle on your snout”. Hip! Hip! Holy shit, it feels good and the one-legged man of serendipitous destiny doesn’t have another shoe to drop. If anyone out there knows Willie Nelson please tell him to do a few of my tunes (grin). I will be bringing my Martin guitar along, even though I’ve hardly played in several years and wasn’t very good to begin with; now that is positive!
My friends, let your hearts be lifted, no matter what else may happen, we will survive; some portion of us will continue and some part of us will even be living and working together. How cool is that? That is plenty cool. If you are anywhere near where we will be in a short month, do think about coming around and walking in the desert with me. I can see the dust dervishes rising up from the expelled breath, through the nostrils of fifty foot holographic cobras giving us that, ‘gotta dance with them’ feeling. Been there, done that; me and Richard Yerxa.
Okay, looks like we’ve come to the end of another post and I’ll see you in the next one, if there is one. In the meantime, may the sun king rise in your heart and lift you out of the slumbering dream beds of yesterday! Hey Cisco! Hey Poncho… away!
End Transmission…….

Source

Otherwise known as Smoking Mirrors, Les Visible provides a voiceover in a disintegrating culture as Reflections in a Petri Dish. While in his guise as Visible Origami, Les offers perspectives on the invisible forces shaping our world

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