Reflections in a Petri Dish – October 23, 2010
Dog Poet Transmitting……..
I watched Max Keiser go nova on Alex Jones’ radio show a couple of days ago. I thought it was Max doing a mirror for Alex but Alex, who’s completely out of control, told Max that it was a ‘family show’. I didn’t even notice whatever it was that caused Alex to say that. I guess that means I don’t have a dirty mind, being as ‘there are no dirty words only dirty minds’.
Max Keiser; you can see that guy light himself up because he has to keep reminding himself that he was in that business. Max doesn’t have a dirty mind either. Max has an honest mind. I like listening to him so that I can hear integrity ring. I like Max Keiser. I like Gordon Duff. I like Kenneth O’Keefe. I like Mark Glenn. I like a few people I have mentioned before but I prefer to just stay shy of that kind of advertisement because not everyone that I like and admire may like me back. It wouldn’t change the way I feel about them.
Coca Cola boycott; I got out of the John Howard Pavilion for the Criminally Insane at St. Elizabeth’s Hospital. Max was telling Alex that all you had to do was shut Coca Cola down to break the vampire system. Alex looked like angry bees were flying around his head and they were all wearing little blue6white yarmulkes. Max kind of noticed that Alex was distracted but that’s Alan’s job. Max has other things to do. So do I.
I got out of a near two year stretch in that place and the D.C Jail and Petersburg Reformatory Gladiator School, with my ass intact and my mind set right because I wasn’t crazy in the first place. Everyone else was. When I walked out on the streets, everybody looked more locked up than me, I wound up at the Coca Cola family’s house in Atlanta. Doctor John Pemberton’s house in Atlanta was a halfway house. I was a parolee. Because I was convicted of the Marijuana Tax Act for two ounces of pot that I didn’t even sell while riding with some people; one of them is now a congressman and I’m sure he would rather I don’t mention his name but that’s John also. It was another John, John Reed who was responsible for the mess but the story could take off in ten directions now or become a book so, let’s stay on point.
I lived in that halfway house for a few weeks and the parole officer was a mean sonofabitch like they got down south and they set me to mowing median lawns out at the airport until the job at the Atlanta Zoo came through. It did come through but I was long gone. I turned on the guy who ran the place to LSD. He just had to have it and it didn’t work for him but he let quite some time go by before he reported me missing. During the time I was there at the institution they let all kinds of crazy people loose who killed people and came back in while I was still there but they did not want to let me go because I was really dangerous, so they say. They have no idea. They still don’t
On this site I have said many times that the way to take down the system is to stop supporting it. Max Keiser says the same thing. It’s interesting that he picks Coca Cola, ironic maybe, me being in that house. They had a two lane bowling alley in the basement and I have always been into most sports so I had some fun with that though it wasn’t operative.
Max is right. Take down Coca Cola and you can take down the whole thing. Of course, when they first made Coca Cola they used Coca leaves and cocaine was in it. There’s a whole story there. There’s another story where Coca Cola was killing people in South America; sorta like United Fruit. Cocaine, fruits and dead people; sounds like a Hollywood movie. My agent says I have to take a pass. But I did make it to Altamont near Livermore where the CIA stoked the crowd with bad acid. It was a good thing I had brought my own. The Gimmie Shelter move was a lie, just like that piece of shit article in the Village Voice. I saw the whole thing. I was one hundred meters from the stage. I can’t find out who Lawrence Livermore is. All I get is Livermore Laboratories.
If everybody stopped buying Coca Cola the system would collapse. I can’t tell you why I know this, I just do. Alex Jones looks funny swatting those invisible bumblebees. He’s just waiting for Max to go away. I don’t know why he had him on in the first place. Max isn’t kosher. Max is a rebel, wacko smart enough to live in France. I know France pretty well so I know what Max likes and I approve (grin).
I already boycott all Coca Cola products so I’m not going to be much use. You can. We should make it clear to everyone that every time you drink a Coca Cola product you are drinking Palestinian blood. Everyone should know that if you have an older car, you can pour Coca Cola on the battery connections to get rid of the corrosion. You can also use Heinz Ketchup to clean a restaurant fry slab; works every time both ways. It will also kill you, if you consume too much. It might take longer than cocaine but it is not nearly as much fun. I have snorted pure Madres de Christos Bolivian flake cocaine and I have had a recent taste of what passes for the real thing these days and I can tell you it is pretty much the difference between chromium steel and aluminum. I coulda used other comparisons but this one was generic.
I’m not generic, Max Keiser is not generic but Alex Jones is and so is Coca Cola. It’s a generic expression of something you don’t need but you have to have and go looking for because sensation and not substance is the important thing which is how shit gets fucked up in the first place (language alert), I know, I always announce the alerts afterwards. That is because my alerts aren’t something you have to look out for unless I specifically say so, otherwise I have no idea. Dirty minds, dirty words, dirty money, dirty laundry; put them all together and you get fresh, sweet smelling sheets and clean money and remember all you have to do to get ‘sweat’ out of ‘sweet’ is to put an ‘s’ in the place of the ‘a’ before the ‘t’. What? A, T and T? “ta ta, let’s do lunch and I’ll kiss you in the mail. This is how they do it at the banks. It’s no surprise because that is how movies portray life.
What happened at Altamont was different than the movie and different than that lying sack of shit at the Village Voice said it was. What Alex alks about is the bypass around the truth and how to get there, but he does point out parts of the truth on the way to getting around it. That’s his job and it suits the personality that fits the job. Max and the others are in a different league and then there are people past them and past them too. All the way round and round it goes and it is a matter of degrees. You can make a scale of acceptable order vis a vis right and wrong on a scale of blindfolded, child rape, torture porn up to someone’s first kiss. It’s all a matter of degree; a parking ticket, a misdemeanor and your classes of felony up to capital crime. In life and at every level of it you have degrees in the world of revolving shades of gray. The ugly truth is that the people who won’t listen, still don’t listen and the people who are listening are still listening and nobody knows the score. That’s why we have an apocalypse because otherwise there would never be the chance for a lot of people. You will be forced to hear and see the truth.
Alex Jones can wave at the angry, yarmulke wearing bumblebees. They are torn between him and the cotton candy sticks in the hands of the kids over by the merry go round, cause the bees got more than one kind of business but… don’t get your hopes up. Reptiles don’t have emotion and love is an unknown tongue. That is a little erotic, a little psychotic, a little primer on the man behind her and the force of the killing drill. We came here not knowing and living and growing and Nature is something you can shape into almost anything…as you see.
Something is consuming you and feeding on you. Something is feeding you and then consuming you. Is it an alligator? Is it a crocodile or is it a banker? Maybe I am wrong. I learn my lessons from nature. Crocodiles don’t run banks/ but wait! There are banks on a river so… maybe… I don’t know. Certainly no banker would take his family on a vacation where crocodiles would eat them and even feed their own children to the crocodiles. I guess I am missing something but I will probably be okay tomorrow, just like the children except that they are much younger but I am much wiser and I’m glad I’m not them. How do you feel about that? It’s always somebody else, even when it is us because we don’t recognize ourselves. You see how it goes? Help is on the way.
Maybe there is a radio show or maybe not. You know where the links are and I don’t have the time for them now.
Last updated 26/10/2010