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Smoking Mirrors – Dec 3, 2012

Please click to sign Visible’s Petition to The Obama administration:

“That the US Government recognises that Israel authored the 9/11 Terror attacks…”

 Dog Poet Transmitting…….
May your noses always be cold and wet (if you happen to be a dog).
Consenting adults would probably want to keep that in mind, cause there could be the consideration, of a kind of “Wrong Way Riegels”. I see the lightning. I hear the thunder, given that I believe Israel is actually Palestine and all I have seen over the years on the shrinking map tells me all I need to know about what is going on. I have seen these sideways a time or 2.
So visible, what are you going to do about it? Well, I could leave the room. We will see, won’t we? No, I am not in a good mood but…sooner or later, I might catch a headwind that will blow me right out of Dodge City. Is there a Dodge City?
I want to point out that the circumstances in our lives are going to be determined by righteous and real. We chose to be what we become. It’s all up to us.
For too many years, a game strategy, well, an actually malignant process, has been taking us down the road, to an ever more cramped and confined extremity. No matter the color of a person’s skin and sometimes because of that, this has been going down. Because of the need for high-end communication devices; which I am not discounting the value of, things like this are going on and as mentioned earlier there is a process; color of skin, may or may not be a reality in the mix but you’ll get that feeling, depending on who you are and how you think anyway.
These are troubling times and you need to have an awareness. I have a ceramic, piggy bank. I don’t know how I got it but there it sits at the corner of my right eye, across the room, past the window, where Tree blocks whatever is out there, in the beyond, on the wooden chest that holds my clothes. There’s nothing in that bank at the moment. There was, once or twice, but I’m not the sort of person who is into piggy banks. You might ask yourself, why is it a piggy bank? Why not a badger, or a bear? Why not anything else? The truth is that bankers are pigs and that is the real reason that some people don’t eat them. It is because they reincarnate as them. Another group doesn’t eat it because they don’t want to be like them. Another group does eat pork and even has pig toilets, because those who become pigs, feed off of them, when they go around in human form. Now, you could call all this racism and you can call it bad humor, or you can call it anything you want because I don’t care. I am not talking about the whole body of the group in any case and that is the meat and the matter of the moment at any time. They hide among us and pretend to be us, in every group and that is what makes it so hard. They have to be ‘rooted’ out.
Calling them as I see them, since I be I, is an unavoidable thing with me. I think to finesse the presentation, in any case, because those who hate to hear the truth about themselves, are just going to hate me more and those who are oppressed by these relentless fiends, will hate me for bringing it to their attention and I have to live with that but I live in a different dimension and… Things are what they are, let the chips fall where they may. I am not a racist-pig. I don’t measure anyone by their color. I only go by what people do. I only go by what people do. I only go by the results of their actions, upon their fellows and upon me; which is why I have kept changing my residence because of their impact on me and my attempts to not be part of the racket. It is what it is, or it isn’t. That should be pretty clear, unless it isn’t due to the web humming, miasma of the Maya factor.
I recognize that not everyone sees things the same way that I do. I also note that most people hardly see at all. There is a peculiar magic being practiced on us, because of our willingness, to be obsessed with material things and it fucks us up. People run around like crazed beasts, grabbing shrink-wrapped items from department store shelves, to show their love and appreciation for others, on that special day, that comes around every year. Shouldn’t they be doing that sometime, for someone, every day but… no, it doesn’t work like that.
The whole system is operating in a way, where useful and useless things, are both made more expensive and the struggle to keep after them, is the greatest cost …because it includes the most precious things there are, in the things you lost, like your pride, your honor, your humanity, your dignity. The list is endless.
Why am I sounding so strange? This isn’t like me. This isn’t my normal operandi; as if I had one. It’s because we are being fed things like this. It’s because feeding us thing like this, is supposed to make some kind of sense. If you read the article and you look at the pictures, surely your mind must wonder if this is an actual or staged reality or, maybe… what? I don’t know. Is it some kind of Hunger Games retro-virus? Is it a mystical epiphany of an end of the world doctrine? Is it only Herpes of the Mind?
I’m trying to get my head around it. I am trying to get my head around the emergence of things like this, which are increasingly being set, as something that is going to be happening with routine frequency, or… maybe you think that is not the case? Maybe you think this is also an anomaly?
It can be said a lot of different ways but it all comes out the same as to what the cause of every single one of these things is. We are very clearly in Brave New World Country. The process of incremental is what gets us. Things happen in small, linked steps. It’s similar to time lapse photography, in a certain way. Well, not similar but maybe you get what I think I am trying to say. People talk about magic but they don’t really understand it or see it happening around and to them every day, in both good and bad ways. Take for example when you put a seed in the ground. Try as you might, you never actually see it coming out of the ground. One day it is simply there. Every plant needs sunlight and water. These are both just permutations of Love. It used to be that when sponsors at radio shows, new store openings, or whatever, that you could win or get a free t-shirt. Then you would walk around like a human billboard; make you feel unique. Time passed and people actually began to buy t-shirts and other apparel with advertising on it, in order to appear cool and unique. It got completely out of hand with the redoubtable, Tommy Hilfiger …and to a lesser extent, DKNY. Now you got millions of human billboards, running around being cool and unique.
That then leads to tattoos and piercings. It used to be that you only saw them on bikers, soldiers and biker sluts. Now they are ubiquitous. I believe I once referenced the epidemic of south seas islander-like tattoos across the top of the sacral plexus on ladies, so that the cat, jackhammer rocking behind her ass would have something to read, while he was engaged in what was once called ‘an act of love’. When the divine animating principle, is being, funny-teasing with me, which is often the case, he’ll ask me ‘who wrote the Book of Love’? I would always get it wrong (or so I was told), until I got it right the other day and now I can’t remember what I said.
This is one of the most difficult blog postings I have ever had to write. It’s been going on for about 5 days. The problem is that so many things have happened to me that I’ve got some form of PTSS. I had a hard time in Frankfurt and I also had to go back there twice. That was nothing compared to Muenchen (Munich). I left off for there last Wednesday night. It was bitter cold. I stayed in my hotel and the next morning, I took off for the Indian consulate to get my visa. It was snowing and the wind was blowing it near horizontally, so if you were walking in the wrong direction, which I often had to on that day, given what happened to me, it was brutal. My used leather jacket, which I bought on Ebay got stuck halfway up, with the zipper. I had to rip it apart at that level. That was a big help. Anyway, I got to the consulate, which is not the consulate but a branch of Cox and Kings. The Indians had ‘outsourced’ their visa system to a German GMBH, or business firm. Do you get the irony of the Indians outsourcing? There is one in Frankfurt and one in Muenchen. The application form is exactly the same. I was originally going there, since it was closer but was told that I had to go to the one in Muenchen, if I lived in a certain district. When I got to this place, there were about twenty people waiting outside in a line. When the doors opened you had to take a number. Only one person was processing at the counter, though there were spots for about 6 persons. After half an hour one more arrived and another, 15 minutes after that. When my turn came up, I walked up and got told that I could not apply because my application form came off of the Frankfurt website. I said, well just give me an application and I’ll fill it out. He said I can’t do that, you have to go back downtown, find an internet cafe, fill it out and then come back. “I’m sorry” he said. “No you’re not”, I replied and left there with a very hollow feeling. I was certain I would get no visa then and it cost me a great deal to come there in the first place, with my limited resources for the while gambit in the first case. I wound up going around all over the place, until I found one. Then I tried to fill out the form, with the minutes going by until the place closed. Nothing was working very well and I was sure at that point that I would not be getting a visa.
Finally I got it filled out and went to print it and it printed out nothing but gibberish. So I went to the Middle Eastern guy who owned, or ran the place and asked for help. He said that was my problem and to go away and not bother him. Munich has a surfeit of these kinds of people; is famous for it. I finally figured it out and left. The weather kept turning uglier. By some mystical grace, I found a particular bank that handles my assets (grin) and was able to get needed funds. The visa was more expensive than I had imagined. I took a cab back to the visa corporation with time remaining on the cosmic meter. Now there were about fifty people ahead of me. I sat down in a glum mood at the front by the counter. I guess the guy who had sent me on my way must have been touched by something invisible to the both of us, because minutes after I sat down, he summoned me up and told me to give my form to the lady sitting next to him. In a very short time I had surrendered my passport, paid for UPS dispatch of that and the visa to be sent to me and was out the door; no guarantee that I would get it but at least that was over. I couldn’t figure out why they needed to keep my passport. They said it takes at least 3 working days for it to arrive to me.
Originally, when I went to do the trip of just mailing it in, they told me it took two weeks and I didn’t have enough time. I said, “I have over 3 weeks”. The guy said, “We can’t guarantee it”. Heh heh. Today my passport came in the mail with nothing else. I didn’t know what to think. I opened my passport and the visa was stamped into a page of the passport. I guess I am going to India, although a lot of people don’t want me to. They seem to think something permanent is involved. If I don’t take the steps to change myself and look for a location, the community won’t happen. At least this community won’t. That’s what it’s all about.
I took the train home from Muenchen and my friend Michael was supposed to pick me up. I went out to where the cars were and he was not there. I waited awhile and said, “What the …whatever”, so I set off walking to his house and walked 2 kilometers in the wrong direction and had to walk them back and then another 2 K or so to his house. Apparently he was waiting on the other side of the tracks for me. I didn’t know there was another side. It was all dark at that end and no one seemed to be going that way. What a trip. Many things have been like that these days. I was sure I would not get the visa but I did. At several points, I was just going to head back to the bus station that would take me to the train leg of the trip. I didn’t. I persevered. It’s all been stranger than fiction.
Today I had to go to the pharmacy to get a couple of shots that I needed for India. One of them turned out to be a few tablets taken every other day. The cumulative cost was 80 some Euro. I was stunned. I had to take the shot to the doctor to have it administered. I’m actually in a good mood, just so you know. I know it’s all for the purpose of demonstration and if I don’t get it on the front end, I get it on the back end but hopefully not in the rear end (grin).
My friend, Imron, was waiting for me when I returned from my trip. He had flown in from LA to see me. He brought me the latest ipad, with a keyboard in a leather case. I had already bought a new Asus Infinity. I told him to please keep it for himself, as he didn’t have one and was going to get one. He insisted I keep it and take that with me too, so that I could do vlogs and the rest. He and some other friends are putting together a Kickstarter program for me, to pay for a record album, to be recorded in UK at my friend Old Boy’s studio and a documentary film to be made about my life, among a couple other things. I’m extremely touched and don’t know what to say. I think we’ll close at that point.
End Transmission…….

Visible sings: ♫ Herpes of the Mind ♫
‘Herpes of the Mind’ is track no. 4 of 9 on Visible’s 1984 album
Jews from Outer Space and is available to buy from The Visible Store.

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