Saturday, September 11, 2004

Gimmie that Old time 9/11

Yeah, they're revving up the engines, make no mistake, the Rudy blimp will fly and the sun will break into diamonds across the mylar surface.

It's not my intention to cheapen the deaths or diminish the courage that was, but in the face of the faux-Mexico Day of the Dead spectacle on tap I could hardly approach what will be accomplished by the professionals. In my own small way I will attempt to celebrate my take on the whole affair with a few links and a some personal contributions on this day of massive self-promotion by the highest paid whores in show bizness.

Let's start off with a few links. Oh here's a nice one. And you didn't even know there was a WTC-7 did you? HERE.

Then there's the ever popular Osama Bo Bama Banana dana Bosama Sum HERE

We'd be truly remiss if we didn't reference that Muslim apology that was so ubiquitous and swallowed whole by the dumber than dirt faction. First your link HERE and then this nice piece of evidence
Registrant: Free Muslim Coalition Against Terrorism
2560 Virginia Avenue, NW Suite 171 Washington, District of Columbia 20037 United States
Registered through: (
Created on: 21-Apr-04
Expires on: 21-Apr-08 Last Updated on: 02-May-04
Administrative Contact: Huber, James
704 Donaldson Ln., SW Leesburg, Virginia 20175 United States 7037719368 Fax -- 7037719368
Technical Contact: Huber, James
704 Donaldson Ln., SW Leesburg, Virginia 20175 United States 7037719368 Fax -- 7037719368
Domain servers in listed order: NS.THEHOSTGROUP.COM NS2.THEHOSTGROUP.COM

which you didn't see anywhere and which after being publicized caused the phony's who errected the site to sanitize it for your protection. They're housed in the Watergate, go on, give 'em a call.

Questions abound in this world and there are far fewer answers to balance the scales but hey, everybody likes a good mystery.Yowsah

Yes, I could go on and on, this is just a cherrypick from one web site. What's it all about Alfie? Well, personally, I'd say that the robodroid in the White House is the public face of the 9/11 attackers who shoehorned Mr. Church of the Subnormal into the White House. "cover that girl in chocolate syrup and..." (thanks Frank- no not Sinatra)

I'm going to stroll on down memory lane and memory lane can often be a lot like being led down the garden path for those who can't remember and never mind. Looking back over the course of these few years one is most impressed by the titanic weight of ignorance that is the collective mindset of the American people. Is it just stupidity or is it fear too?.. because, gee, because it just doesn't seem possible that anyone can be so consistently stupid for such a length of time, so incurious, so potato-head believing of every single lie.

Meanwhile, on stages across the land, all the sad clowns, all the worn out whores will work in tandem to milk that one bloody tear into the corner of their crocodile eyes. They're gonna get down on their knees and do the nasty like Hindu swordswallowers in some bizarre porno movie of the mind. They're gonna inhale the bloodstained sacraments of hypocrisy and sanctimony and they're going to vomit up reams and reams of cartoon eulogy all over their teflon suits and you won't see nothing, no, you won't see nothing.

They'll stand there and they'll look as good as the crowd at a tyrants funeral. They'll make you believe he was a good man, that's how good they are. And the thing of it is, they suck; a nine year old wouldn't go on believing this shit for as long as the adults have been swallowing it. It has to be the fear or some kinda magic that only affects most of us. Or is it just the special taste?

Well, I've been working the crowd myself, a little here and there and I think some of this fits right in here with the rest of 'that'.

You can go to HERE 9/11 was an Inside Job and you can listen to or download the entire album dedicated to the 9/11 industry for which so many arms merchants and support industries and American fascists are so justifiably pleased.

And I wrote a poem too. I wrote a Poem that sank without a trace, like all of my poems do from that hippest insider club, that virtual "On the Rox'... oh yeah, Poems Fray. It sank with some trace elsewhere and it took a lot longer to go, but go it did. Did it go because the heat melted the Jello underneath? Did it go because it was a piece of shit and not up to the high intellectual standards of the illuminated Robert Pinsky and his attendant suckups? Possibly. Did it go because you needed a mind to understand it and an attention span broader than that required to stay the length of a network TV commercial? Probably. But it's 9/11 relevant and I'm gonna put it up again. It says everything I think.

9/11 Dreaming in a World of Flesh

in a world of flesh
sees flesh only
the heart and the mind may suspect
but still too often see
flesh only
back of the flesh in the world of gears
manipulated triggers pull at the limbs
that dance in the world of flesh
orchestration and the high art of fraud
are an easy task in the world of flesh
and the tumbling bodies hit
and the dust rolls in clouds from the streets
but another dust comes
from the smoke machines
and the mirror exchange of the press
some say the Arabs were angry that day
some say there's more to the ruse
beneath the veils are a number of things
that SOMEONE has put to good use
other intentions have come through the fire
and now they would burn the world
the convenient timing
the fabulous deaths
the great down winding diminished regrets
in the unseeing world of flesh
now comes
the junk and the tedious songs
on and on ad nauseum
the Twin Towers Watch
the speeches and banners
"on Comet and Cupid"
and Tiny Dancer
the peacocks are fanning
the demagogues struttin'
the survivors are jostlin'
through cables and grips
very important envelopes of flesh will
inflate their gills
with the shimmering scales of eminence
and gravitas
and their importance as flesh

remind you of that

and... remind you... of that

it goes on forever
it lasts for an age
for the flesh
that encompasses space in a world of flesh
forget Rwanda, Sierra Leone
the Congo?
where that's at?
I lost my cell phone

where's my goddamn latte?
is this lettuce fresh?
it's so hard for me
in this world of flesh

no one understands what it's like for ME!
no one understands!
I don't understand

"why can't we all just get along?"
in the world of flesh
in the world of flesh
flesh expands and presses out over the clothing
and all restraint

flesh billows with the fruit of appetite
the soft melting encapsulated lard
of chewy TV goodies
and somebody
blew up the church of the flesh
the goalposts of the empire of fleshcame down
the towers of flesh motivating upwards
the upwardly mobile flesh
the lightening struck tower

now walk with me...take a walk with me…

behind the world of flesh
back into the gears
back behind the tech's
behind the bankers
behind the money
behind the images
behind the ideas
behind the numbers
and behind the initial divide
far from the world of flesh you have
the uninvited guest
the forgotten lover
the fruit of desirous quest

someone forgot


a lot of fragmented flesh puppets forgot
a whole lot of somebody
seriously forgot
to invite God into the world of flesh

and God showed up anyway

like the sword
as the spirit-informing matter of it's presence

but it will never do to look for truth in the rubble
it will never do to think in terms
that flesh cannot accept
it will never do to considerthe absolute precision of the act
the fluid grace
that caught everyone flat footed
with a stupid look on their face

things can only be a certain way in the world of flesh
the impermanent flesh demands it
the vanishing melting vulnerable flesh is trumpeting
and cannot hear beyond it's own noise
the flesh is God unto itself
in the land of stuff
where stuff is God
there is never enough
there is NEVER enough...
just the wanting of the flesh
in a landscape of desired things
the temporary paradise on disappearing wings

rage on flesh


wrap yourself in the colored images of dream
wrap yourself in the vain exhortation
wrap yourself in the clamoring
clanging detuned symbols
of the empire of flesh
and laugh
and weep and carry on

it is never a moment too soonin a world that is too soon gone

one should never disturb the dangerous dreams
of the lords of the kingdoms of flesh

the heart and the mind may suspect
but they can't get there yet
the tiny voice in the silence may speak
but cannot be heard
not in the world of flesh

sometimes a greater noise is needed
from the lover you have forgotten

the loverwho has not forgotten you…

I know you're in there….




I know you're in there...

hidden in a world of flesh.

Buried in a world of flesh

Just be grateful I don't post the collection of all of my 9/11 related posts here. I don't want to give Wolfe a heart attack.

Today, what we ought to remember is how very easily we forget. We ought to remember how much we don't want to know. We should remember how hard we work to keep from seeing what is in front of us. Today we should remember that we, collectively, share in a unique distinction, for today we are members of what has to be the largest collection of stupid people that this world has ever seen. I have no doubt a certain strange vanity breeds here.

I have no doubt that there are many who are proud to be stupid. I have seen them go forth and proclaim it to all who would hear. I have seen them wax at length on televisions and radios and certainly within the empty cathederals of their minds. And what an echo! I hear their voices ring like the Sorcerors Apprentice in a hi-jacked Woody Guthrie song, chopping brooms and multiplying like carrion flies feasting on African dead.

Today I think you should do what you intend to do. I think you should celebrate your stupidity. I think you should go to your neighbor, your grocer, your aroma-therapist and you should say, "I am ignorant past understanding. I am Ozymandus on Thunderbird Wine. Look upon my shameless stupidity and despair.

It's 4:00PM, do you know where you are?

In closing let me say fuck you to everyone who believes the transparent lies they have been given and double fuck your reasons why. Let me say fuck you to those corporophagial few who have succeeded in intimidating, confusing and blinding the many. Let me say fuck fascism! And fuck all fascists, both there and abroad. Fuck the goons in power and fuck the corporations that support them. Fuck the lying polls. Fuck the television networks and fuck Clear Channel and fuck Michael Powell and all the faceless vampire fucks that are drunk on blood and hunger for more. Fuck everyone where it applies, you know who you are.

As for the rest of you, God Bless you... and may some unseen hand, miraculous and long overdue wash these treacherous souls into the sea like Garadene Swine.




Visit the recommended reading page for many more.


'I Need More Light' from the Les Visible Album
God in Country

Visit the Blog Music Page
to stream all of Visible's music for free
(purchase is always appreciated but entirely optional)


A classic Visible post:

With gratitude to Patrick Willis.

Click here to watch and comment on Vimeo and here to read the original text.

Visit the Blog Videos Page for many more.