Smoking Mirrors — Jan 27, 2014
Dog Poet Transmitting…….
May your noses always be cold and wet.
What have we been saying? The cosmos has a wicked sense of humor and… more and more you are going to be seeing things and hearing about things that are just not part of the usual script that we’ve been suffering through for… for… a long time. As the ineffable has personally told me, “I have an ingenious sense of humor and you are going to see it on full display. They are not going to know what hit them or what to do about it. They are going to be drug store cowboys with a bad jones at the corner of Shit and Go Blind.” Here’s an example of interesting WTF? Expect more. Expect much more.
Another thing I was told was, “I’m going to show up right in the middle of them and catch them in the act. I’m going to catch them with their pants down and record it for posterity. Trust me. They’re not going to know what hit them.” This means next to nothing to the truly insane. There are few poetic expressions that can match the raw beauty of evil destroying itself, either through extreme over reaching, or pathologically dysfunctional activity that makes no kind of sense. At times like this, I am always compelled to repost Nietzsche’s maxim; “those whom the gods would destroy they first drive mad.”
Nothing says crazy more fluently than when someone over educated in morally bankrupt professions, decides to exercise his inner pseudo-intellectual, in the service of increasing both their celebrity and potential, wide spread embarrassment, while fattening their bank account. I consulted my inner phrenologist in relation to this individual and managed to materialize some LED running lights across his forehead that keeps repeating, “Yeah baby! The New Age, I’m loving it!” Then you see the McDonald’s golden arches rise behind his head. Kool!
When you combine the state of materialism in this world with borderline intellects, whose level of celebrity is diametrically offset by their lack of talent, you are going to get people like this who see the world as their own Romper Room, surrounded by a posse of demented Sesame Street characters with a bad crystal meth habit., They got this list in Hollywood where they bet on who the next celebrity to die is going to be. This cat has to be up there. He did do one really cool thing, when he went to that Disneyland attraction for the world’s perpetual victim industry, the grave of Anne- ‘ball point pen’ Frank and said she would have been a Bieliber. Well, the Anne Frank Franchise is steampunking right along, making cash registers ring, lighting it up dude, for the bank accounts of the greatest professional victim industry the world has ever seen. It is intoxicating to watch them milk this, while using Palestinian children for target practice. What a trip! What an ugly trip, as a matter of fact. What I think would be perfect at this time, is a an Anne Frank musical that mimics Michael Jackson’s Thriller, starring Milley Cyrus, as a dancing zombie, in designer grave wrappings. Of course, a little romance would be necessary, so they could get Justin Timberlake to play the love interest in various tete a tetes, consummated in the hidden attic or wherever it was that she, nudge, nudge, wink, wink, wrote her opus. Of course, it wouldn’t be complete without a rap soundtrack by Dr. Dre or Jay-Zeeee. Man! I would so like to write the lyrics. I’m thinking of something like, “Monster Mash” at the finale.
Amidst all the derranged and cartoonish superficiality, exemplified by a fashion industry composed of men who hate women and women who hate men– and all the political saber rattling and invidious humanity hating lobbies we seem to forget about Lady Nature and the news is grim indeed, it’s not snowing in the Sierras so there’s going to be no water and although it’s winter now, when the heat of summer arrives, the state will be a tinderbox and when the Santa Anna winds begin to blow in late Autumn, whoa! It doesn’t look good for The Golden State. I don’t want to be an alarmist; ‘just the facts Mam.’
There are some sinister corporations on the planet at this time; The Carlyle Group, Monsanto, others, but… who doesn’t get the notice they should is G.E. who is behind the horrors of Fukushima. Their indifference and avarice are not measurable by any known standards. You know that we are downtown in Sick City, when they can get away with this kind of thing. I’m becoming more and more certain that a significant number of high ranking industrialists, ceo’s cfo’s and others, are card carrying Satanists. How can it be otherwise? If they are not formal dues paying members, they have that force coiled like a snake in the back quadrant of their minds, controlling everything they say and do.
In these times, those so possessed, recognize no limits when it comes to the pursuit of self interest. If they can do it and get away with it, for even a little while, they find a large niche demographic of cinderblock headed, testosterone junkies, who will pay to see it, whatever ‘it’ is. We’re looking at full bore madness on the cusp of insanity and it’s operational at all observable levels, all going down, while the mass of the population is walking around with, “What, me worry?” plastered on their faces. The corpse light of cell phones flickering in the material darkness, is a pretty sight. You can see all the residents in those white t-shirts under the black light, with a phosphorescent message across the shirt that reads, “I’m with stupid.” The thing is, the arrow isn’t pointing sideways, it’s pointing up.
Okay, let’s troubleshoot your placement in the mix. You’re surrounded by crazy people. You can talk at them but not to them. They’re edgy and frenetic, like a large herd of cows out on the Kansas plains, just before a storm as the ozone crackles in the atmosphere. You know a stampede is on the menu so… let’s talk about mental envelopes. If you’ve done any desktop recording, you know what I mean by an ‘envelope’. It’s not the same one that you need a stamp for. It’s a metaphysical fact that there are a number of etheric sheaths which extend from the body. You’ll want to scroll down to the graphics, unless you enjoy reading things people plucked from other sources. Alright, stay with me. I do have a point.
It’s common knowledge for those who aren’t common, that our more rarefied sheaths can be energetically charged by certain disciplines of the breath. In this same way, the mental sheath can be charged by Visible’s snorting system, where you cast every thought that comes into your head, back out the way it came, by a quick expulsion of the breath. It takes a little practice to get it right, so that you are not expelling the contents from your sinuses. As thoughts are more and more routinely expelled from the mind, the mind becomes more and more energetically charged and capable of magnetically propelling negative mindsets, personalities and circumstances away from you. It’s like having an invisible force field that maintains a secure and inviolable state of being.
Have you ever noticed how a person brimming with positive enthusiasm can change the mental state of those around them? It is as if they all become magnetized to the stronger current being generated by this positive generator. Not only is this possible but as just stated, it will drive negative people away from you. In occult history, there are many tales of people being under serious protection, while surrounded by excited mobs. During the French Revolution, there are stories of people being lifted right out of where they were standing and being deposited blocks away, or hiding in plain sight, while agents of the forces of darkness search all around them without seeing them. These tales are to be found in stories of the Comte de St. Germaine and Cagliostro, both of whom were around during this period of time. The Comte personally told Marie Antoinette that she was in grave danger, though she ignored him and it is said that she saw him in the crowd from the death wagon as it passed him by on the way to Madame Le Guillotine. Cagliostro had a number of soirees in which he predicted all manner of things occurring to the people in attendance. He was locked up in the Bastille but… when the mob broke into the prison, he was no longer there; shades of Appolonius of Tyana.
Bulwer Lytton wrote a fantastic novel about that period called “Zanoni”. It’s a little flowery for the first 60 pages or so and then it gets exciting. He is ridiculed these days as the epitome of bad writing and there is even an award in his name that is conferred on bad writers. This novel is more than a novel, much is revealed between its pages and such people actually walk among us, mostly unseen. In the works of Dion Fortune and other authors from times past there are many curious things presented to the reader. If you knew where to look, you can access all kinds of information of course, the usual Nimrods who have no compunction about throwing the baby out with the bathwater and have all the necessary lack of information to back up their perspective, will leap forward to condemn Annie Besant. Not me, I take what I find of value and thank my lucky stars for coming across it in the first place. Did I offer greetings from the Sirius Cluster yet? Here you go.
We have become complacent and all too ready to accept fabricated news and fabricated perspectives, which then form our world view. NOTHING is what it seems. There is, as The Bard once said, “More things in heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio.” We need to see with new eyes and the first step is to reject the nonsense being generated by appearances. Then, with a little judicious and focused snorting, once the mind is emptied of all the garbage thinking, being manifested by the invisible information grids of The Enemy, you can hear the voice of The Guide, once the surround chatter has been diminished enough or expelled. It could happen quick, or take longer, depending on the quality of individual commitment. You’ll have to be the judge of that.
Alright, so much for Mirrors on this sunny Monday in late January. Be alert.