Tuesday 16 November 2010

DOG POET: THE DEMONS AMONG US AT THE CANNIBAL FEAST


Dog Poet Transmitting…….
November 13, 2010

When you look up into the night sky there is a predictable symmetry. The moon has its reliable phases. The planets can be seen in their courses by those informed enough, or technically empowered enough, to view them. 

Astronomers see one section of bandwidth and astrologers see another and what is stated to be so and what is intuited to be possible, are both extreme limitations placed upon the unknown and life goes on independent of the findings of either. 

The sun appears every morning, as the Earth rotates into it. You would have to say that balance is the key to the whole apparatus, independent of understanding it. Balance expresses itself in the cyclic repetition of seasons and events. It all has the appearance of being arranged. Someone like me would say it’s all under control.

We’ve heard that evil destroys itself. That implies that components within the schematic are in opposition to other components in terms of intention and agenda. 

You can think of evil as something like cancer, where the host body is attacked by elements which compose it. Ergo, you get people like Glenn Beck attacking George Soros. A representative of Little Georgie Sorrows told Glenn Beck that he was hurting Georgie’s business. The implication of a dead fish coming in a UPS truck is not to be missed.

The main feature that you notice about Wall Street and the multinationals; the bankers and other major players on the world stage is that there is no limit to their need to acquire at the expense of others and each other. Some of them have tens of millions of dollars. Some of them have hundreds of millions of dollars. Some of them have billions of dollars and some of them have tens of billions of dollars and all of them want hundreds of billions of dollars and more and more and more.

They will do anything to get more. They will steal and kill. They will engineer wars in which millions die and millions more are enslaved in crushing debt, just to increase their holdings of something they already possess far more of than they will ever need. 

They turn to philanthropy, in which none of what is given away reaches the target audience, except when they are building hideous monuments to themselves, in buildings and institutions, under the guise of education, the arts and medicine, which not only do not serve the needs of the public but maliciously attack the essence of what they presume to edify and disseminate. 

They are a breed apart, a monstrous amplification of Fred C. Dobbs, on a lunatic rampage amidst the winds of Heaven.

The public information channels have been routed through the municipal sewage systems so that it’s shit in and shit out every day. 

These mincing martinets prance upon the stage, in the gravitas of dung golems, whose reek is barely masked by the distance provided through the mediums of transmission. They bedeck themselves in bling that would make a gangsta rapper blush, as they applaud one another on their vast accomplishments on the public’s behalf. It’s no time at all before large numbers die, as the result of fountain pens following the pronouncements at some narcissistic conclave of self congratulation.

They present themselves as spokes-personages for the equality of all, which is nothing more than a push for the preeminence of minorities, whose agendas stand in direct conflict with the lives and traditions of the majority. 

They seek to destroy everything that does not represent their personal vision of how it should be, in order to grant them an unopposable, imperial hand over the destiny of everyone beneath them. 

It’s no time at all before they then present these minorities as the enemy of the masses, in order to manifest a blood bath of guilt among the populace, who are mystified at their own capacity for violence and who then cry out for a more pervasive hand of leadership from the very fiends who orchestrated it in the first place.

A reasonable mind would quickly understand that all bankers, lawyers, politicians and priests should be quarantined for the good of humanity and that there can be no extremes in the definition of such quarantine because, quite frankly, they are the enemy of life, of balance and symmetry and of every good thing imaginable.

In the middle of the chaos of the moment, with the full evidence of mass murder, felony fraud and unbridled greed, these desperate creatures lobby for immunity from their deeds, while seeking unlimited license to commit more of the same. 

In the middle of plunging the world into chaos, they demand further freedom to accelerate the process, so that no one remains, except a manageable servant class to administer to their needs. 

They define evil simply through their efforts to kill whatever good they encounter. Even in their dreams they plunder and murder, as if there were no portion of their mind that did not meditate upon these things.

Mass opposition and expedient death are the least of what they deserve and gaining this, they have one final victory in which they have turned their destroyers into monsters, just like themselves. 

Do they know all of this?

They do not. 

It is the atavistic, reptile mind behind the façade of their human masquerade that manipulates them in a simulacrum of Fred C. Dobbs, screaming into the maelstrom. 

They are fiends unknown to themselves. They go through the motions of terrible acts, in a loop of cognitive dissonance, where they cannot hear or see themselves as they are, nor the effect of their behavior. 

This means nothing in terms of the necessity for them to be gone, anymore than does the unawareness of a mad dog, concerning its hydrophobia.

The most grievous thing is the mass of the ordinary, who wish for nothing more than to be like them; who would leap at the opportunity to replace them, independent of the skills or capacities needed to do so. 

Sarah Palin and the legions that support her are a clear evidence of this. They are all bound together for a common land where revelation will at last descend upon all of them.

I am already supposed to be somewhere else for several weeks now. I can’t seem to manage it. I’m completely ready and my car is packed, with all manner of items that I have needed for the last several weeks (grin) and don’t want to go after because, any day, I may know that that is the day when I am meant to leave. 

I’ve never been in this position before. Whenever I am intending to go somewhere, I do. It may sometimes be a day later but never more. Why is that? 

I keep expecting something to happen. I don’t actually expect something to happen. Something is keeping me in a place where I don’t actually need to be and keeping me from somewhere else that it seems I really ought to be, for all sorts of good reasons from property maintenance to potentially inspired actions.

I think something would have happened by now but there are too many eyes. What might have been easily accomplished in the past, now carries trepidation of discovery that has hamstrung the vile and irredeemable among us. 

The governments of many countries are alerted to the dark possibilities. There are none who will remain unaffected by what hangs in suspension, seeking the dark of the moon or a moment of fell opportunity.

Evil does destroy itself and it knows that something is up, with all of the long awaited and intricately researched realization of their plans. Something doesn’t feel right and they are waiting like I am waiting. 

They can’t possibly restrain themselves. They are compelled to carry out the destiny of their destruction. 

They are as eager as goats in rut, pissing all over themselves, as goats do, in anticipation. 

There’s no consideration that perhaps they might be wrong and that discretion might actually prove the better part of valor. No, they are committed but nervous. 

They reason that even if they are caught; what difference would it make? Such is not the case of course and some part of them knows this.

So we sit here. The world and its tormenting fiends and sleeping heroes, wait like incipient cold sores, hot and pregnant with pulsing discomfort. Cold sores aren’t romantic but neither are the times in which we find ourselves, surrounded by cowards and cretins and hedonistic louts who don’t even know how to enjoy what they take so many liberties with. 

These people with everything do not even have the capacity to enjoy it. They have no idea who the enjoyer is.

Well… so it goes. One more posting about the unpredictable, the inevitable and the inexplicable, in search of motive and meaning.

Sooner or later we pass the point of no return, just as these demons in human form, lash themselves toward the righteous entrance to their own version of the Ring Pass Not. We won’t be breaking for commercial. We are the commercial.

End Transmission…….

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