Wednesday, 29 September 2010

What is in it for them?

Are you waiting for the sky to fall in? Are you tense, nervous, fear wracked? Do you wake every day under a dread pall?

Under a spell? Under a man made grid dissolving your thoughts and will? Caging you with invisible bindings on your thoughts and emotions? Nam Shub’d without realising it is technically possible?

The stage now commanding the Herd Attention Space is unbelievably huge and complex. In the good old days the whole mindlessness intentional spectacle could be managed within the Coliseum. Then the farce escaped out into the world causing mayhem and destruction where ever it went. Today the scam is once again controlled and captured. Packaged for delivery through the liars’ window. MSMing our minds.

With that in mind I think we can take a good look at the special staged space around the Dead Sea. The internment camp for those decanted from the Pripyet marshes. A rotten Rothschild trick on the prejudices of the fearful. From whom were they running? Catholics they’d killed and extorted for generations. Orthodox Christians whom they had genocided? Fascists who wanted lebensraum? Marxists who wanted anyone non Roth dead? Other coafflictionistas who didn’t want them dirtying their American shores since they knew the true body count numbers? Or do they just like picking trouble somewhere so they can live like commies and have free fiat cash shoved at them for terrorising the oil wells by playing for all sides of the panalectic as usual?

What is in it for them, who ever they are?

Just like the good old days when Cleopatra’s Semitic offspring would revel in the slaughter of the extras in the Round House, so today there are dead people all over the stage. All those images imagined into our attention space, convenient, pre-packaged, rehearsed slaughter bites and method atrocity vignettes.

All encased in a prophylactic engendering outrageous inaction and a spastic bawl over all our days. We are not supposed to do anything about what we are prescripted, just accept the inevitability of our powerlessness. Heaven forfend that we should even twig that there is a script and want to gain editorial control of it. If we did then we would be marked as a woodpecker noncompliant. We would be a dangerous thought generator and potential spell breaker.

How much trouble would it have caused Czar, financing the show, if one of us had stood up during any of the spectaculars and made it quite clear that we thought the Kaiser’s lineage were nothing but a bunch of whoremaistering dusty donkey drivers with a psychopathic antipathy and homicidal enmity towards all of mankind.

Well by my calculations there would be one of four reactions dependent on whom and where you were in the venue.

1. Your mates would take the goatskin or amphora containing the fermented vegetable juicings away from you and tell you to sit down and stop embarrassing them.

2. As 1. above but if you were unlucky enough to be clocked by an informer then you, your mates and all family members would be wheeched away in the middle of the night by the Steel Bladed Pharmacy. Just like in Venice much later.

3. As 1. and 2. above, however if you were in the upper ranks of the administration or the senatorial classes, well career over and open veins in the bath. Ruin if you are lucky. Just like USofA corp. today.

4. If you did it right beside the Big Guy he’d look you in the eyes and ask you a very simple question. “Do you have any real power?” Then you and your family would get wheeched. Just like USSR and EUSSR.

The net result of the outburst is as nothing to a system resilient and resistant to such perturbations.

Maximum Max reckons that because WWIII has ended with the admission of Goldman Sucks et al into Iran then the great big shadow settled over our everyday lives, woodpeckering away at us, has been lifted. Oh if only that life and death in the great screen written production were so simple Max.

Iran inviting in the thieves has not resolved the issue. The issue of why one single group of self selecting script writers should arrogate unto themselves the mission of getting all of humanity purged of diversity and freedom such that one single belief should remain? That belief being enforced slavery through homicide and poverty.

We live in the 21st century and yet the prevalent ideas for the raising of humanity from the current mess is stuck somewhere before 1000BC and the guys responsible for the whole eons long mess are trying to dupe us into following their kindly proffered solutions.

They think that we haven’t noticed that they are trapped in an amber prison, the hermetic memetic, of their own rationed rational. Their obsolete bent. They have called this ancient fate upon themselves; they love it and succor it in their schizophrenia.

However this only goes so far in explaining our conscious experience in the theatre of blood. This is the active part of the light show which keeps us, the invited audience, enthralled in a scripted, repetitive cycle feeding our five senses. Do not ever dare refuse the invite though.

The word farting that Freud & Bernays are supposed to have released upon the world to such great acclaim in the early part of the 20th century was not some sort of random germination of accreted knowledge and discovery. It was a staged release of ancient knowledge relating to the old wisdom of how the human herd behaves en masse. Indeed of how it was designed to be and do so.

There were two objectives in mind, pun intended. Firstly the creation of a class of mind engineers and tinkerers staffed by the lazy, work-shy afflictionados. Secondly preparations of the regenerated mind grid lock over humanity by the woodpecker. Which will, in the aggregate, modify human trends caused by the constantly changing celestial alignments and/or generate certain traits within the human population beneficial to TPTB.

And inevitably we come back to the secreted, corrupted priesthood hidden deep in the temple vaults where the gold and silver was kept, the forged receipts concocted and the oh so secret schools guarded and horded their preciousssesssss.

The sacred geometry and the astronomical forces that conditions humanity’s local response, in the aggregate, to gigantic tides sweeping unseen through the universe. When those forces and alignments are judged to be most propitious, when the woodpeckering has modified our local psychology just so, then and only then will the Dead Sea Death Merchants be given the sign to start their dusty donkey caravan of hatred.

That is what is in it for them.

Control of the market in misery.

Proselytising nihilistic chaos and destruction, evangelising self and selfishness, making the world safe for their monomaniacal jinn.