Friday, 18 February 2011

Space Clities of Mars. Part 2

So after putting up with all that rubbish on the gogglebox yesterday, tonight you can stare pruriently at people’s suppurous bums and orifices with selected dermic and gastric complaints, the weirder the better, to keep the unaware, unaware of where the neutron bombs will fall, amused. After all the mindablation had been neutralised by hitting the off switch and pouring myself a massive cup of char, I settled down to catch up with my favourite bloggers and catholic commentators late yesterday evening.

As is my want at this time of year, after New Year, I thought of all the poor slobs forced to march, march and march through February, through the blinding snow or cold to their deaths. Like these guys.
I think of the real people who were really starved to death and killed by Khazari Sonder Kommando.

A common sight among the Armenian refugees in Syria. An Armenian child dead in the fields within sight of help
and safety at Aleppo


Like these people. Unwanted by the banksters. Witnesses to be removed from the CSi eternal crime scene.

Can you imagine anyone other than the contused and confused in the west falling for the MSM Keystone coppery that always accompanies these episodes of Khazari commie psychopathy. All confusion, no one really knows what happened. Perhaps it was the Innuits, they always cast envious eyes on The Pale. More witnesses to the iCSI original theft of human hopes and lives, gone. Officers, clergy, professionals, intellectuals, artists. All gone.

I wonder who did this then? The slobs from the One Million Pound drop? Or this? The Skye Gentlemen's First Eleven? Nah! These slobs were knee deep in both. Youz gotta getcha a Nobel Peace prize drenched in blood before youz earnz youz bonez.

More unwanted that were to be normalised unalive because the psychopaths infesting our decision making processes are full of Beelzeebub’s Ordure.

Once I’ve had a little wander through all the dead people I contemplate the modern fools and their fads. All the delicate little flowers that have been selected for by the Darwinian process of blowing half the world’s poor population to hell. The remaining meat sacks must be super men and women. Mustn’t they if they've been through Darwin’s scientifically proven trial of life?

My arse!!!

I’ll bet you not one of those poor slobs up there in the assorted Holocausts ever had lactose intolerance. I’ll bet you not one of them had an allergy to cats. I’ll bet you not one of those long departed souls ever, ever pleaded as she fell to her knees, as she wept over the still warm bodies of her parents “My magnetic wrist bangle!!”. I’ll wager not one of them asked for their inhaler.

I can just about guarantee you that there never ever was a single person who hadn’t had food for a couple of months, ever, ever asked if it was hallal, kosher, blessed or jedi when a saviour finally offered them sustainance!!

When the poor slobs building the death roads, death railways and death camps were being worked into their graves, I’ll bet you not one ever stopped to worry if they had sinus problems caused by glutin intolerance.

You see lead pill allergy, the fear of the Lead Pill Pharmacy, dread of the CHEKA, Gestapo and the Young Soviets all these terrible afflictions upon humanity, they tended to concentrate the mind wonderfully. There is no space in the mind for pretend illness when Lucifer’s human death squads stalk your every moment.

I’ll bet no one ever thought, as they fell from their knees forward into the lime filled pit, with half their skull blown away. “Oh my skin allergy!”

I’ll wager that just before anyone you can name, who was about to get an empty shell casing hammered into their foreheads. I’ll state without fear of contradiction that just as s/he was being asked to sign the document being sent to his/her family to pay for the bullets being used to kill her/him, I’ll bet s/he never quipped “Oh, copper, it brings me out in spots”.

So when I look around at the conning blue badged cripples and huffing and puffing fat bastards, the choking wheezing clowns that have been selected for this world I find myself looking through the small adds in places like gumtree hoping to find something like the following.

Assist rqd., 2-3 hrs wknds, no exp. ncsry. Apply quoting TPTB.

For when I get that interview, I can be persuasive, with the 6 women that control everything and explained that they’d really fucked up, I would be more than happy to volunteer to press the button and slaughter the lot.

The Hordes that breed psycho Allergies and Eating disorders are but a figment of TPTB’s fuckwittery!!!!!

When the darkness had cleared a little later I found myself listening as usual to Maloney, Chapman, Morgan et al, the precious metals guys, to get my daily fix from the baloney. I was wondering whether to add another blog to my favourites so got into the dashboard and there I saw it. Stats. I’d never clocked it before because I’m rarely in there.

Oh boy thinks I, time to drill down and start slicing and dicing. Find out who comes here and how often apart from the mentally toughened regulars.

And that’s when I made the most unexpected discovery. Most of the traffic to these two shops, I haven’t checked on The Stoker, arrive via the two most unlikely google queries.

“USSS LeMay and the USSS Hillenkoetter”


Now either I’ve picked up a load of Gary McKinnon campaigners at this shop for some reason and a bunch of religious obsessed with pudenda at the other shop or I’m being stalked by a transdimensional obsessional random query monster!!!

And now you know why the obtuse title to this posting which I had to break into two pieces because I was called in for my dinner.

I’m hoping to up my stats by attracting the kind of waste of space that you get heaving into view here at IUFOC 2011. Have a swaatch at the list of speakers. They’ve got the look. That same look you get from old Soviet COMINTERN delegate lists. Shit scared not to go off message or they are out on their ear in the gutter starving or being visited by the LPP for a prescription of extreme lead pill allergy. They are at a great big foundation sponsored event. If you look closely you will see one of my favourite home boy foundation bitchboys will be standing up and spouting bollox. Grooming the masses along the foundation line. Anything just so long as he never, ever has to do a single day of work in his life.

I’ll finish this load of mind barph off by making a little observation. Just like Michael Jackson, just like George Best there are occassions when the market is demonstrably not working. It is being warped to deliver sustainance and fine wines to the loathsome allergied and sensitised wastrels of the world because of deliberatley engineered failure in the system. I’ll bet there a gallons of camel’s milk, whale’s milk, dog’s milk, donkey’s milk, horse’s milk and any other phantasickally expensive staple and luxury that you can think of because one of the clowns might die from an allergic attack @UFObollox. When IUFOC 2011 can have so much lavished upon itself in the midst of global hunger and death, when it can cushion itself and feign that individually and collectively they are powerless to alter anything, then you know we have some proof that the whole exopolitics crap is foundation, i.e. ultimately Rothschild, funded. Just like every other COMINTERN meeting.

Oh and just in case you don’t know who Gary McKinnon is he’s a poor slob that swanned into NASA’s databases and had a little look around. He’s to be busted and yet every ChiComm hacker has a free pass and security clearance, indeed is welcomed with open arms over in USofA corp. You’d reckon IUFOC 2011 would be making some noise about the fit up.

Nah, like Trotsky and Banquo he’s unwelcome at the feast.