Dog Poet Transmitting.......
‘May your noses always be cold and wet’.
You can’t swing a journalist in a room anymore without hitting a psy-ops agent. It’s Bin Laden’s to the left of us. Bin Laden’s to the right of us. Into the valley of bullshit marched the replicating Bin Laden’s. Who owns the media? They are the ones pressing this false info, into the minds of those whose minds have been rendered into cookie dough. Why would such a massive effort be taking place, when such a large percentage of the population already believes everything you tell them? Something is coming soon, there’s no other rationale for what’s been taking place. By virtue of The Apocalypse, all of their efforts are working contrary to their intentions and... they can’t see this? It is not only those being manipulated, who are blind to the truth of what is taking place. Those manipulating are equally as blind and herein is our greatest ally, in the drive to collective liberation. This should put confidence and hope into the hearts of the awakened and awakening wherever we may be.
We should be confident and hopeful in great measure, seeing the ham-handed dysfunction and failures of the iniquitous. It looks scripted and it is. It looks like those with the appearance of so much power, are virtually powerless to avoid being their own worst enemy. They bought all the rope at the hardware store and now they are hanging themselves. They’re convinced all through the process that they are making a noose for humanity. Even as they ascend the chair and place the rope around their own necks, they are grinning at their ingenuity. They are still grinning as they kick the chair out from under their own feet.
What’s our job in all of this? Our job is to step back and witness the event. Our job is to telepathically telegraph what we see into the minds of all of those who are disoriented and deceived. We are broadcasting towers; transmitting the understandings coming to us from the great cosmic microwave, seated somewhere on the inner planes and certainly with repeater stations in the outer realms; “Your inside is out and your outside is in. So c’mon, c’mon, c’mon and take it easy, c’mon and take it easy”.
Here are some interesting snippets from our intrepid correspondent, the Zen Gardner. These cover a lot of centuries and resource a lot of people I’ve never heard of. While I was reading these vignettes, two things kept coming to mind. One was that there were such parallels in the information, coming from such diverse sources. The other was that it was all so general and final and did not ring true for me. I’m not saying that sweeping and revolutionary transformation will not circle the globe, in the vehicles of natural disaster and man made catastrophe. I’m not saying that half of the population or more won’t exit from one of the two. I’m saying that there is so many onuses on world wide destruction, mayhem and stone age regression that the positive realities and the point of all of it, is being overlooked.
I just don’t get the sensation that it’s all going down the cosmic tubes. The vibration just doesn’t hit me. Maybe I’m stoned (high would be nice) or stupid but I feel something else. Fukushima doesn’t bother me. I feel very sorry for the Japanese but... something is brewing or percolating in the back of my head that tells me it’s all going to be okay. It’s not a Dr. Pangloss thing. I don’t feel like I’m lying to myself. I feel like life is improving every day. I could be wrong but it doesn’t feel like it. Why is that? I don’t know.
I have long believed, probably before this life, that there is a point to creation. It’s not a random event. That makes no sense whatsoever. People who dabble in chaos theory always make me laugh. I look outward and see such symmetry behind the veils of deception. I look within and sometimes I see that blue guy appear from behind parted veils, with seven cobras dancing behind his head in a cobra hood. When I was psychedelicized, I used to see this kind of thing a lot. I used to see it before I had any cultural or religious reference to it. It came as a chilling shock when, one day I looked into a store front on North Palm Canyon Drive in Palm Springs and saw a statue of a Buddha holding his hands a certain way, directing the currents of the Earth and the cosmos according to some arcane modality. It hit into the core of my being because I had recently had an event that dovetailed into what I was looking at.
I’ve seen so much coincidence and confirmation in my walk through Maya-ville that I don’t question it much any more. I question myself but that’s a good thing. I question the tidal wave of lies that pour out like the flooding waters of a broken damn but I don’t question what’s driving the manufacture of the lies, or the summing up that awaits them.
I sit here today without a concern in the world, while I witness the world going nova into Batshit County. I look at the sheer transparency of the incredible lies, coupled with the increasingly vile actions of a small minority, acting as predators upon the gullibility and defenselessness of the walking wounded and the terminally ignorant. Can nothing stop these clowns? Can nothing awaken the crowd in the circus, under the big tent? The seltzer bottles are having no effect; buckets of confetti? Zilch. The clowns are exposing themselves to crowds of school children and rummaging around in babies diapers but, nothing. They find an ancestral lineage in the diaper, which speaks to them of their native land and they begin to grin like the man with the noose on the chair but on it goes, lurching toward epiphany and “somebody’s house is burning down”; thank you Jimi. By the way, 6 is not really 9. That’s just what happens when the nail comes out of the top of the 6.
I get that the ‘60’s was a global announcement and a wakeup call for the early risers. I get the international uprising of the heart with peace and love, as opposed to ‘spare change’ and speed. There was a point there. There was a heralding of a coming age of brotherhood and how can we have that if there is no world left to have it in? It doesn’t make sense to me. Either there is a point or a purpose or there is none. There are two camps and I’m in one of them and unlikely to switch. And I wouldn’t rather “fight than switch”, I prefer to step back and watch. I stopped smoking Tareyton’s a long time ago. Of course, I report from the sidelines, without commercial interruption, except for the occasional cosmic PSA; “this is Visible, bringing you the way it looks, when you’re looking and now, a word from our sponsor”. “Greetings, this is the ineffable, don’t worry, be happy”. That’s how it feels to me.
Grim things are coming to grim people but I believe it is terrifically selective. The faith and industry gets measured and there’s a cut off point. You keep on keeping on, or you go into the karmic shop for re-servicing. Of course you should have been practicing preventive maintenance but you had that ‘get out of jail free’ card where Jesus shows up on a box of Cheerios and waves a magic wand over you. I never bought that except on principle. I always got it more like ‘fear and trembling’ according to Kierkegaard. He and Swedenborg were a sort of grandfather/son tag team. Maybe no one sees a connection there but I look at it similar to Schopenhauer and Nietzsche. I see parallels. I see trends. I see everything migrating out of India, including the missing 18 years. I even wonder about Nixon’s missing 18 minutes but I don’t think that came out of India (grin). I see connections, not random accidents, periodically ending in one collective human failure after another. I always believe there were survivors and that they went somewhere.
One thing adversity has done for me has been to give me faith and determination and some degree of certitude. I believe that practically anything can happen and I’ve no idea what that might be. I just don’t know but I feel good. I feel better than I have in years and years and I want to communicate and transmit that. I don’t want to be glum and apprehensive. If people can’t get with the program then they’re going to be recycled and repeat the course. I’m looking at a quantum leap and a dimensional shift. There’s too much evidence and corroboration; at least for me. In a world where someone will pay 34 million dollars for some crap from Warhol, I know there’s something greater lurking behind the walls of our doubt.
Given all the things that have happened to me; why should I be so optimistic? I just am. I walk out of my door and I reach to feel the massing of powerful entities in the air and within. I believe invisible space is crowded and brimming with life and force at this time. I think ships have traveled from inner and outer space across vast reaches, just to be here for the finale. I’m trying to harmonize with that in one of those cool minor keys that The Beatles used to use, which made them sound so fantastic. I truly believe that all you need is Love and I’m holding to that. You’re all welcome to make your own determinations. I’ve made mine.
'Every Fairytale' is track no. 4 of 10 on Visible's 2006 album 'Songwriter'
Lyrics (pops up)