Monday, 10 May 2010

Funny funny impeculiar

BP, the company least fit to be doing anything related to oil extraction, has achieved the Copenhagen agenda with one act of sabotage. It is like the Kennedy assassination, you don’t have to “do” anything just relax the processes, procedures and safety protocols surrounding the “event” to achieve the desired outcome.

So the end result is more money taken from us through a global RICO regime administered on behalf of Rock/Roth.

If you understand how depressions work, George Ure gave a good description with Catherine Austin Fitts a little while back; you will know what is in store when you need to have a license to breathe. Again check out Maurice Strong and his sychobitch cousin shagging the commie agronomists in Stalin’s little holiday camp.

Yep your license to breathe will be removed and then you’ll die. Note however that the Black Angel’s chosen people will be skulking somewhere safe in their gated communities. Got that? “communities”, they love communism. Never ever will you get one standing on its own two hooves, always in gangs. Psychologically and socially they cannot stand individual freedom.

Talking of funny money magicians have you noted that The Captain of the Croydon Gentlemen’s First XI has handed more non existent fiat lucre over to something non accountable? Immediately after his party got booted into touch by the part of the country not knee deep in satrapy and bitchboydome?

I remember one of INCOMING!!!!!!!'s other 2iC moments when he pointed out that Urie Geller is indeed a great illusionist, so good that he’d magicked a stack of cash from everyone else’s bank accounts into his and made him very wealthy. Oh and the deep spook commie background of the smart memory metal bender meant he was never going to be living in a terraced hovel like the rest of humanity. Oh no why do these great magicians always want our money? If they are that great they could magic a suitcase into existence whenever they wanted. Well that caused a steely silence to descend alright.

The key there is that is if they actually did magic a suitcase full of greenbacks into their front room the real magicians, from whom Urie and his ilk get their operator's license, would sent the family retainers round to rearrange the functioning of his internal organs. When in the mob you don’t fool with the capo. You know your place in the family and don’t let on to the vulgar.

So when the fools that we elected finally get round to forming a cabinet and then tells us that the shit has hit the fan, that it is ordure, sackcloth and ashes from now on. The first thing we should do is send the then Chancellor over to wherever Darling’s dodgy dogging photos are stored and demand our lucre back.

That should help keep the important things running like an effective Border Agency armed with heavy machine guns and anti skiver surface to surface missiles.


L & K

The Stoker.

PS almost 48 hours out now and still no sign of the Time Team.