Cruising Down the Smoking Mirrors Highway

Smoking Mirrors — May 14, 2014

Dog Poet Transmitting…….
May your noses always be cold and wet.
We all have celebrities that we follow, or call them creative artists if you will; people we are fans of, not necessarily artists but then again, artful at something, could be sports, could be bank robbery. I admit to liking Jessie James, Robin Hood and people like Willie Sutton- “It’s where the money is.” Tell me about it. That explains bankers I guess. I’ve had heroes and distant impossible attractions. They aren’t now what they once were. My biggest starstruck thing of the moment is… drum roll… Mr. Apocalypse and it’s for things like this. It’s not just that Mr. Apocalypse is exposing so many things, it’s who he is getting to expose themselves. It’s amusing to me to watch these bot fly larvae work their perpetual long range scams on the public, as they march toward the final resting place of monstrous crimes. I don’t remember Dante addressing this issue but… he probably did in some fashion.
Lines have been drawn in the blood soaked sands of time. The lines are invisible, just as the cries upon the hot desert wind are inaudible to the pedestrian mind. You can hear the voices in the wind. They are there. I’ve heard them but… you have to have that state of mind, that attitude of listening, where they suddenly burst into coherent patterns. I remember sitting on the deck of our house in Italy. It’s a magical location. I was in a state of heightened awareness, communicating with someone. That part of it I don’t remember. What I do remember was this strong feeling and how I couldn’t place the source of it and it was awhile before I realized it was being generated subliminally by the voices in the wind. Like most people, I had only been hearing the wind up until then. For whatever the reason, I tuned into the wind as it moved through the leaves of the olive trees and suddenly… I could hear the voices that were transmitting upon the current of sound that was caused by their passage through the leaves. They were passengers on the sound. What was interesting was what the message was composed of. There was an urgency in it all and the translation of what was being said did not express itself in words. It was expressed in feelings and all of it was coming from the past.
There was a great deal of regret and anxiety in the transmission. The whole point of it was that things could change and it was not too late for that but that a time would come when it would be. These voices were speaking to the present of a future that had not come to pass but which has been ordained by the past. The voices were not speaking to me. They were speaking in a very general way to everyone. They had been traveling a considerable distance and they had picked up passengers as they went so, it was a chorus; a choir. Occasionally a stronger voice would rise up on the carpet of other voices, with some special desparate appeal and then fall back upon the whole.
From this experience I took away a number of related understandings. They appeared fullblown in my mind as they took up residence and though they were very present they did not come to my focused attention until following times, times where they more directly applied to what I was going through. I understood that every element of Nature contained a voice. This includes the thunder, earthquakes, the coming and going of waves upon the seashore. I remember the day I first saw the horses galloping upon the sand. The waves were their manes and a song was coming out of the crashing of their hooves. This was yet another message but it was not a message of regret and urgency. It was a message of inevitability and cycles. It was filled with a majestic but tragic indifference to forms and conditions. It was a kind of, “same as it ever was” and same as it will ever be. As impartially watchful as it was of all the rising and falling of nations and individual lives, it held an unspoken promise that made the whole thing something more than just a witnessing of a mechanical routine. It contained an unstated promise of something more but it was unstated because the reason for the tragic indifference and the same as it ever was statement of fact is the fact that hardly anyone stops, looks and listens and that is why existence is one massive multi-car pileup, one awful train wreck after another.
Maybe it’s only because it is the Kali Yuga. Maybe that is the soundbyte of the waves in this period and as soon as Satya Yuga comes in the whole tone changes. I haven’t been around long enough, in terms of memory retrieval to know. This isn’t about that anyway. This is about all those voices that appear through every manifestation of Nature. Guru Bawa could hear what the animals were saying. Their communications are a little more complex than one might think. Some of them see and feel and know more than we suspect and that is what makes the way we treat them all the more egregious and reprehensible. Transmissions come out of the plant kingdom in the form of dreams and they come out of the higher realms from those speaking to the deeper parts of us that are asleep, or caught up in the thralls of a dream, which are generally an indication of being asleep, unless you count daydreams and even those come about because most of us are sleeping right through our lives and this must be so because all of our priorities, most of the time, are based on dreams and dreams are not real. We think they’re real. We think they’re important, mostly because we are surrounded by so many others who think they are and who sacrifice every important opportunity of their stay here on things that stay here.
In this age it is a matter of dismissive judgment when it becomes known that people hear voices or say they do. The truth is that a lot of people who are locked up or wandering around in the forest line along the sides of highways, are actually hearing voices. In many cases, given the state of the times, these are not voices you would want to hear. The natural protections in certain minds broke down under the pressure of existence here. Very often it is these voices that urge the vulnerable to terrible crimes. In some cases these perpetrators are under the protection of powerful, malicious entities and they prosper at awful behaviors for quite awhile. Sometimes they are protected by karmas that require the acting out of certain events at their hands.
You might wonder at where I’m going with all of this and why I went off the Smoking Mirrors highway so early in the post. The truth is that I don’t much care about any of the crap going on outside the windows of the car I use to cruise down the Smoking Mirrors Highway. I only engage in the observations that I do because ten times as many people read Mirrors as read Origami and that’s how I came to create Mirrors after having had only Origami for some time.
It’s no longer of great profit for me to point out shit you can find by due diligence. Do we care that Warren Buffet has given over a billion dollars to abortions causes? Do we care that the Howdy Doody administration has released thousands of violent criminals, from a protected demographic and which the implicit message must be, “go therefore and do it again”?
Sometimes I link to items that are part of a trend that I expect to become more and more common, like this and… freakish hot air balloon accidents, or the deaths of hundreds of miners. I really think people need to be more watchful about what’s going on around them and that is the point of identifying trends; not just event and conditions trends but trends expressed in human behavior and trends concerning behavior modification and manipulation; never so intense and ubiquitous as now and that is why the voices I speak of are so important and one can see the validity of this by checking out their own experiences, whether you are hearing actual voices or not. I am talking about intuitive urges and hunches that all of us encounter; those warnings we sometimes get and those flashes of opportunities that appear in the mind from somewhere. I’m talking about the drive to go somewhere all of a sudden, or to seek out new ways of thinking or living, or… feeling… the desire to change that comes upon us for whatever reason we tell ourselves it arrived due to. These are voices too.
What I mean is that we are all hearing voices on a regular basis, only we don’t hear them in a direct and conscious way. We hear them through our subconsious and this is the real reason for a seemingly unjustified optimism, or some apprehension that has no visible or perceivable presence in our perceptions. For the pedestrian mind there is the usual urgings toward whatever appetites the hungry ghosts using us are attracted to. For those seeking higher and deeper; more meaningful exchanges, “operators are standing by”. Operators are always standing by.
If one meditates and one is consistent about it, one influences the inner sea they sail upon in the every day. If one does not, one is left to the whims of that sea as it is influenced by the interplay of the planets, as they affect one and the world around them. In other words, you are just a mechanical dancing puppet, on the strings pulled by the forces of the moment, for the purpose of the demonstration of that very thing.
In times of powerful and irresistable transformation, always fraught with great uncertainty, a lot depends on who you listen to; who you are able to listen to. If your head is filled with the chatter coming from all directions, as it is doing at the moment, that’s the level of information you’re going to be getting and that accounts for why so many people are either unaware, or don’t even care about what is taking place and how it might affect them. Also, these voices are employed by particular interests that like to see their interests carried out.
You’ve heard of the voice in the silence. Some of us have come into the quietude for periods of time and heard, “be still and know that I am God.” Some of us have had occasion to hear the voice in the quiet and moved on to other voices because the voice of the silence can be chiding and critical. It was many years before I started getting the kind of encouragement I now get and the inference my evolving situations seemed to indicate along the way was that God hated me. That hasn’t gone away actually but there is an effort going on to convince me otherwise (grin). It all comes down to whether we want to hear what we need to hear or what we want to hear. This is why I encourage people to observe old people, to go to places where they are housed and observe them. Baring an exceptional act of grace, we are all headed there. We are not all destined or required to wind up in the same condition however and that depends on who you listen to and how well you hear or want to hear. If you want to hear, you will eventually discover that everything and everyone is speaking to you but… not in the way you were formerly accustomed to hearing it and not with the information you thought you were getting, based on what you wanted to believe was real.
I have had the divine speak to me through others at various times and with the person who was speaking being entirely unaware of it. I’ve had animals, the wind and other elements speak to me; a lot can get lost in the translation unless we are truly objective, if we can hear what we need to hear. That is the whole point of becoming like a little child. The voices we might hear as children, change into voices that suit what we have shaped our understanding of the world into but we don’t actually understand it. We let it take the shape of our desires and appetites, independent of pure reason. It’s what makes us unreasonable and then irrational, all the while seeming perfectly reasonable and rational, which it isn’t. Just because millions agree on total fantasies does not make them real.
I found the space to say this this evening. I never did say what I wanted to. Hopefully this will serve in its place.
End Transmission…….
Sunday’s radio show is still lurking there in cyberspace.


Smoking Mirrors looks at much of what the mainstream media ignores. While in Profiles in Evil, he seeks to expose those shrouded in darkness to nature’s most powerful disinfectant, light.