DOG POET: THE WILD SUICIDE OF THE UNTOUCHABLES.

Reflections in a Petri Dish

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

'May your noses always be cold and wet'.

Well, well ...the moment teeters back and forth, as they try to keep the pretenses alive, until they’ve got their troops and mechanics in place. It’s a funny thing about the bad guys. They maneuver things into a certain pass, just like they have in times past and they are so confident that it will keep right on working, like it always did and it never occurs to them that their time is over.

So they keep right on exposing themselves, as the apocalypse keeps right on exposing them and they think they’re too powerful and too capable of turning us all against each other that they don’t even give a shit.

Well, neither does the cosmos, after a certain fashion.

It’s amusing to watch their pathetic efforts against Ron Paul, who just keeps coming. They’ve never allowed anyone to mess with their money. They killed Kennedy over it and they attempted to assassinate another who wanted to mess with their money and they compromised and ruined another one and saddled him with a war because he was weak and vacillating and god knows what else they’ve done but... everything is different now.

They just don’t see and they’re not equipped to learn.

The most telling truth about them is that they already had most of everything. All of their scams worked and if they had just backed off a little; if they were capable of that, they might have been able to just run the clock for some time longer but they just couldn’t help themselves and that’s how they screw up in the end.

They push it to the extreme and never realize that the extreme is a balancing act gone wrong.

As Lao Tzu said, “you can only pull a bow so taut until you repent of the pull" and so it goes.

In former times it would never have come out that the police were responsible for the killing of a young man who wasn’t any actual danger. They caused the whole scene and they’ve been busy pushing the river because they believe the river will cover their sins and carry them past the point of retribution. The times are filled with irony as you hear someone say, “You’d think they were killing someone every week. It’s not like that” and then you see that number of deaths in captivity of 333 and you think, by god, they have been. They don’t learn.

You go back to the Magna Carta and how that came about. You look at the conditions that preceded the French Revolution. You look at these times and the encircling power grid of infrastructure, institutions, cant and creed that can no longer sustain what they have brought about and there is no further point they can address themselves toward because it’s reached critical mass. 

As clever and devious as they have been, all they have accomplished is to entwine themselves in their own snares and it’s hard to run when you’re tied to the things you are trying to run away from, while attempting to carry the dead weight of everything you’ve stolen, when there is nowhere to escape to. 

It’s ludicrous but they just don’t see.

They just don’t see.

Of course they don’t see.

They’re not supposed to.

That’s the beauty of it.

The tragedy of it is that they are killing so many people on the way.

They are killing so many people and for what?

For what they have too much of already;

they think they are whittling the opposition down

and it never occurs to them

that there isn’t really any opposition en masse.

However, they will succeed in awakening the rage of that which they had contained for so long, without ever realizing that:

It takes less than 10% of the people

in a concerted effort

to change anything in this world.

As they jockey back and forth, screwing over their associates, in order to be the preeminent totem at the top of the landfill, it never occurs to them that their associates are a real and present danger to the complexity of their plots and that the combination of treachery and bad faith will make heroes out of the second best slimeballs among them.

They publicize their outrageous lies around the world and it never occurs to them that they convict themselves in doing so because everything has to be based on something and when you’re based on nothing, just like your money out of thin air, you have no substance to defend yourself with.

They literally pull it down upon their own heads and imagine they will get away with it, when they are the architect in chief of their own ruin. It’s not pretty, but neither are they.

They celebrated and profited from the banal and mediocre, as if that were transferable to those transfixed by the sight of it and never realize that the trivial shit they were manifesting, as a distractive side view, of what is really happening will turn out to be the most telling evidence of their criminal nature.

They just don’t get it and that’s how it should be.

All of us who see what they are up to and those who are waking up to it by the day and the hour, would gladly let them off the hook, if they were to have an epiphany in respect of what they’ve done.

We’d be glad to see their recognition of their offenses and their open regret for what they were about, if they could only come to that understanding.

We are all woven of the same cloth 

and the quality of mercy is not strained 

but... they just don’t see it.

I’ve said it a number of times and I will say it again. It doesn’t matter how many guns and standing armies you have. All power comes from the same place. The power to do good and evil, have a single source. When an age is changing into another age and especially when you are at a time when the entire clock has gone all the way around, the permission of the power to act according to what has been, is redirected toward what will be.

When the juice is taken away and channeled toward that which was formerly pounded and pummeled, there is no longer any pull left in the fingers on the trigger.

There is no longer any authority to continue.

There is no longer any base to come forward from.

There is no longer the will to power

because there is no longer any power there.

The myrmidons hear nothing but static on the radio.

The true believers no longer have the blueprint for their misguided faith.

The walking dead are no longer walking.

Their dogs are no longer barking.

They no longer understand what it is they were trained to protect because it no longer looks like what it was because it never was and now it really isn’t.

In the end they are left holding the worthless symbols of everything they have stolen and they have set the whirlwind in motion by taking the homes and livelihood of the sleepers that made it possible for them to operate.

Now they have nothing and like the monkey with the mango in its hand who can’t let go of the fruit in order to escape, they are trapped by the very thing that brought them to where they are.

They already have more mangoes than they could ever eat.

They are truly mad and corporations are people.

I guess that explains the Supreme Court and how widespread the understanding is of what they made into law at the behest of those controlling them and they have their job for life; so long as there is life.

They sit in impervious insolence upon the dead branches of the tree of life like insolent vultures, thinking that they can never be touched because of what they represent, while they have compromised it beyond the point that it can protect them.

I spend no time thinking about what they have created for themselves or what the fitting punishment might be. I wait upon the opportunity to welcome them back into the fold. Neither you nor I am like them. We understand the tale of the Prodigal Son. We wouldn’t have this perspective if we hadn’t been there ...and someone showed us mercy too.

What this last gasp of a dying age has brought before our eyes is the vision of all of those who couldn’t make it past the attractions that were so important that they would torture, imprison and kill their fellows just to possess it and they already had more than they will ever use or need.

It’s a hard row to hoe. It is the dead Earth of their former footsteps that they poisoned by their passage upon it. It’s that empty field with no company but Saturn; grist for the millstones of eternity. The density of matter creates heat and that is the nature and conditions of Hell.

The beauty and the tragedy of existence is that there is no lasting death.

There is only change.

End Transmission......