Saturday, May 05, 2018

The Great Unwashed and the Secret Meaning of Morons and Whores.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

Sometimes you can't help but to keep doing something, or... conversely, sometimes you can't stop something from doing you (or don't want to-grin).

“I see dead people everywhere.” I also hear people saying the same thing over and over, grinning like loons, flooding the event horizon windshield with Instagram smiles; butt-whacking the back door, Twitter feed of mindless redundancies; talking heads, Jack in the boxing, like Pop-Tarts out of the toaster; idiots doing subliminal product endorsements, pimped out like Dancing with the Scars, plastic surgery victims, row after row, rank after rank of the same old, same old, marching over the horizon; Gleem smiling androids and goosestepping zombies. If you mute the sound, you miss nothing. They are an army with weaponized mouths and ingrown hairpieces. Yes... I have had the TV on in recent days, because of the longest playoff stretch in professional sports history. It seems like the basketball playoffs are nearly as long as the seasons, so I get to hear (anal)ysts go on and on and on. I don't know where they get the stamina. I imagine bad things happening to the Energizer Bunny in the Rand underground laboratories beneath the Denver airport, or Disney World. They tend to move around, always a step ahead of PETA and Planned Parenthood, which is surprising since they are all after the same thing.

Somewhere in a galaxy far away, there is a purgatory. It might even be a kind of Hell, where all these people play 'Never Have I Ever.' and 'Truth or Dare' while subsisting on the food and drink that is advertised on their shows and snorting lethal amounts of meth ...but due to the nature of the location in which they are present there is no possibility of an overdose. They do lose a handful of brain cells with every insufflation, until there are none remaining. This results in a strange dichotomy, because there is no noticeable difference in their awareness from when however many brain cells were present in the beginning until there were none at all.

At least once a day and certainly more, I slide back from my desk and reflect on the collective, public mind that seems to be woven together on a gird like the one that holds the Pacific Waste Island together. I then consider the programming coming out of the family altar. I look at the products that sponsor the shows and I am convinced that you have to consume these in order to get a clear transmission that makes sense to you because for someone like me they make no sense at all. Then I see clips of Tristan Thompson where the crowd of Toronto Raptor fans are screaming “Khloe! Khloe!” Over and over. I see the strip malls and all the franchise outlets for for multi-colored garbage that winds up in that other garbage dump called your garage and attic (basement?). There these inanimate objects have casual sex in the dark of the night and appear in the dreams of the people living in all those split levels and condos; metaphorically he is living the Formica life, in Harmon Cove, Seacaucus with a wife, three insane children and one lonely dog, where death's not a threat, it's the law.

I reflect on what kind of state of mind a person has to be in to be able to validate this kind of a looping and never present existence; going in and out of focus and finally... never having been here at all.

I mentioned once how I used to attend these occasional, annual celebrations in the European town in which I lived; a town of 10,000 where a hundred thousand people would show up over the course of four days and eat and drink themselves into a stupor and I would look out upon the crowds, or wander through them, noting the generational differences in where the attention was being placed and wonder if there was anyone else out there, doing what I was doing and thinking about the ineffable. I never saw another soul exercising objective awareness except for the emergency workers who were standing by the ambulances. They are very proactive in Europe. You seldom ever see any police cause they don't need them. We have the police presence we do because of the Hegelian dynamic where we cause the problem and then create the solution.

I would take acid in the wilderness, at be-ins and rock events (the few I attended) and I would watch people following their hungers. I could literally see what motivated them and what was important to them. I could see them attached to an invisible line (like a fishing line), like the line that ran between Richard Pryor and the crack pipe back in the day. “Hey, Richard! Got a light?”

I should have known I was different but... I was still trying to fit in. I never did manage to accomplish that but... I did find a demographic (like those reading this posting) where it applied. It's the 'huddled masses' that are the problem, as far as the rest of us finding a greater meaning in this world goes. They're the ones the TV shows and movies are made for. They are the ones the commercials are filmed for, especially the ones that speak to our unique and celebrated differences (right). They are the ones who are immersed in the sensations and herded like livestock to the Soylent Green processing centers. They are the block voting, enmasse responding crowd, controlled in support of elite policies.

People think they see what is going on in the world around them and think that they know what is taking place in the world far off, because depraved and highly paid liars like those at the New York Times and Washington Post and all those newscasters at television stations across the landscape of The Great Satan (grin) tell them what is and is not happening AND they do it for MONEY!

Slowly and not so slowly, behind the curtain, where the players and stage settings get moved around, forced social change is going on-------------------------- blacks and whites are being color coordinated through social engineering for sexual interaction. Gays are being inserted for commercials, voice overs and the way men behave toward women; much more as well. Whatever is possible to confuse and demoralize and- most especially for indoctrination of prepubescents.

I'm watching the faces of the ballplayers who are being paid tens of millions of dollars for bouncing a ball and putting it through a hole, or being paid the same amount to catch or throw a ball and run across a line at either end of the stadium, or throw a ball or hit a ball and run around some bases in order to make a score. I'm looking at the faces of those sitting down or around the court line who have paid thousands and sometimes tens of thousands of dollars to be there for one night. They could pay hundreds to sit in the nosebleed seats, where they need binoculars to watch what is going on. All of them are hammering on their cellphones. I watch basketball at crunch time in order to see one player; Lebron James. I watch football to see Tom Brady and I watch baseball to see Justin Verlander and Jose Altuve and sometimes a few more. If I never saw another game I wouldn't care. The games play while I am writing or setting up a creative situation. All through the watching and not watching and the doing and not doing, the divine is there, guiding and encouraging me. Telling me not to give up or lose faith. Telling me that someone in such a position is a very, very lucky fellow indeed.

I think of the billions that are being generated by trivia; Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat and others and those hundreds of thousands of 'apps' that are being used and being made for lazy people with superficial interests. It astounds me. It blows my mind that people do not crackle electrically across the space of cognitive dissonance. There's no 'I am'. There's 'I was' and 'I will be.'

Game over. The announcers were keeping up a steady patter of banal referencing of pedestrian attractions that in one way or another say the same thing; “we're all the same.” “We're all beasts” “We serve the gods of stomachs and genitals, until neither of them work very well, or at all.” We eat heartburn generating garbage and then take chemicals to counteract the heartburn and it's not cheap and we never think too deeply about the heartbreak that is a given in a world of endless want and endless loss.

New game starting. People in commercials acting like hyperactive idiots; jumping up and down, drooling about whatever they're selling, embarrassing themselves and the human race and striving to the limits of their limited abilities to prove that we are all morons and whores. Take a good look. How could they be intending anything else? I'm guessing that by getting the American public to believe this, they will also take for granted that whatever is for sale is just what they need.

I love humanity, insofar as I meet and greet and serve them. I must love them if I behave toward them as I do. It often mystifies me as to this being true but... breaking news; I just figured out the morons and whores things. As a moron, you are too stupid to say no and as a whore, anything goes. Of course, you still have to pay for it but... as a moron, you have no idea of the value of anything and as a whore it's whatever the market will bear. The good news is that you don't have to have sex to be a whore. That's the bad news too.

End Transmission.......

I guess this wasn't a very uplifting or inspiring Origami but... there's always next time.


Love To Push Those Buttons said...

Works for me. Posts like this make me happier than ever we haven't had a tv in over two decades, and that I no longer listen to the radio.

Anonymous said...

(aka) a bunch of meatheads..

Anonymous said...

I found the lyrics to this song to be far more relevant today then ever before. (Some what related to your piece.)

Ze Eche said...

Saw a sign in front of a church today

Real friends don't rub it in they rub it out

Good stuff

Ray B. said...

And now a switchout - a Visible Origami that is really a Petri Dish. Clever...
Vis: "It's the 'huddled masses' that are the problem, as far as the rest of us finding a greater meaning in this world goes."

I learned to ski up in the lower mountains east of Seattle. Total amateur. The snow was medium to terrible (although I had fun). I had to learn to turn in packed snow that was half ice. It was work, zig-zagging down the slopes. And try stopping on half-ice. But fun...

Then, I got a few trips to ski in the Colorado Rockies. Who would have imagined; snow that was soft! I found that techniques honed on semi-ice slopes provided effortless travel down powder slopes. I was actually 'better' than many of those who had only trained in powder...

How the above relates to Vis' column is due to good ol' planet Earth (at this time). Those of us who have managed to stay (or regain) at least partially-awake have produced spiritual muscles far beyond what we would have on a 'benign' planet. Take us and drop us on another 'benighted' world, and we would do just fine (or at least adequately). Take someone from a 'pampered' planet and drop them on Earth, and hmmm. I suspect we are "prized" beings after we graduate from here...
Vis: "...and I would watch people following their hungers. I could literally see what motivated them and what was important to them. I could see them attached to an invisible line..."

I have been watching that ability slowly growing in me over the decades. It is like not quite being 'in phase' with the physical; like being in an 'overlighting' of the situation, watching what is. It is not quite intuitive and not quite visual. (It even works with books, movies, and television. And the internet...)
Vis: "I love humanity, insofar as I meet and greet and serve them. I must love them if I behave toward them as I do. It often mystifies me as to this being true..."

Signs of enlightenment. We are all in this together; all-God. (Thanks for being here, at this time.)

Many of my past lives have been either as some form of warrior or a monk/priest-type. (Came-in as an army doctor's son; no coincidence there.) This has melded into someone who 'engages' on higher planes. Most of humanity is clueless (consciously) of invisible influences. Someone(s) has to fight the good fight until the old schools are re-opened. Not only 'buying time' but a bit of push-back. That is my form of showing love for humanity...

Best Wishes,
Ray B.

Anonymous said...

reminiscent of souls, their bodies buried in sludge,
with only their heads protruding: from the movie, "What Dreams May Come"
We are waylaid with those of like frequency...

Anonymous said...

It appears as though the geoengineers have sprayed so much material for soo long that there is a continual white haze surrounding the bozone layer of the earth...

torus said...

Greetings. You mentioned Andy Warhol in another blog. Incredibly, I caricatured him in a rather unknown and somewhat shoddy painting I made of Warhol circa '91. It was Warhol all tarted up admiring his own work, entitled "Wall Whore". How short-sighted I was. The TV is still a prominent "wall whore", but people are getting their 15 seconds of fame primarily on the "palm whore". The cell phone has brought an end to master musicians like Pat Metheny from doing a "one off", or sitting in with a band. He's reminiscing on YouTube of the days when he would sit in with a band; New York City, Berlin, Wichita, wherever. And nobody palm-whored the event.
These days, people want to suspend a master improviser in time, displace the "now,for a much better THEN! He's seeking a psychic resonance with the audience as much as,I assume, an audience seeks to connect Or in some way be touched an improviser speaking in a very sophisticated yet earthy tone.
Many of us have enjoyed a "you had to be there" moment, as ridiculous as that reads, you know what I mean.
Home computers, cell phones and tablets have FLAT-LANDED us. It's why I write with a pen EVERY day. To keep that analog totality flowing. The personality of human script is reduced to a miserable font tarted up and wall whored with emoticons.

Visible said...

Torus; I have a fountain pen and some ballpoints. My friends also. The reason I do that(grin)thing is because I don't like emoticons, or Twitter. I'm on Facebook by accident. I hit the wrong button in an email. We're not all flatlanded. I have a cellphone. I often charge it again and again without having used it. A couple of people have the number. Something good is coming soon and to each according to their value, according to their qualities and merit will there be many a reckoning, epiphany and revelation. Cue Mr. Apocalypse.

I got an email from someone who told me Clif High doesn't like me. I don't know why that is. I've never met him or done him wrong. It's sad when there are falling's out among those who are supposed to be on a similar path. It's even worse when one doesn't know why. I pissed off certain people and then they go to work on me about things that never happened and all sorts of things. I believe I am part of the problem. I have a Les Visible blog entry coming up. It should clarify somewhat.

Anonymous said...

when entertainment makes survival irrelevant, the coming starvation drives the appetite to greater suffering and delusion. a faster decent

j bee

Anonymous said...

pen to paper is as timeless as sitting in front of a fire.
Giving credence to the connection between brain and hand,
the deliberate dismissal of cursive in schools links the
disconnect and dearth of emotional grounding in the young.
The solitary activity of freely expressing on legal pads
portends the breaking of rules...


wiggins said...

Yep...... a reflection of the Sun to fool us.... ;~)

torus said...

@Visible. I certainly "see" you as someone who still appreciates and uses the pen. I generalized with "flatland". I reminisce of school days when doodling afforded me an escape from the demonic tedium coming out of a teachers mouth.

@Vince. Thanks! I'm often embarrassed by the Prime Minister of Canada. He's "PC" to a moronic level. He took it upon himself to correct a WOMAN who had the audacity to refer to "mankind" at a public Q&A session. "Ma'am" he said, "we like to say personkind." Everyone knows that "mankind" refers to everyone. Trudeau hasn't made the connection between the Latin "manus", meaning "hand", and mankind. "Manuscript, Manual labor, etc.

Visible said...

When you can change the language and the labeling then you can enforce intended change upon those you have confused. I have no quarrel with the righteous feminine and it has no quarrel with me. The hyenapotamusses have their own agenda but me no benda and they are eventually turned in to floor tiles, courtesy of what knows what's what and what is not.

Anonymous said...

People are multilayered so looking at one aspect of what they do can be very misleading. This is why we are taught not to judge each other, because none of us is worthy to judge another. None of us know the trials and tribulations that others have. When we demean others we do so to elevate ourself and this is simply not an evolved approach to life. People never cease to amaze me. I recently had a conversation with a local man who lives in a van on crown land. This man is referred to as a retarded bum by the locals. I asked him how it was the system did not move him on and he explained he had a mining exploration lease that only cost him $200 a year, so he was able to live without being a slave to the system. He is not a materialist so he is happy living in his van with his few belongings. That 'retard?' is free, unlike all the upstanding members of our local community who spend their life toiling away to pay taxes, bills and the cost of their comfortable life styles. His one prized asset was his dog and the system took it away. I looked at that man and realised he was living closer to God than all those upstanding members of society who think he is a retarded bum.

'You hypocrite! First take the beam out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.' ~ Matthew 7:5

'Then the King will say to those on His right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave Me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave Me something to drink, I was a stranger and you took Me in, I was naked and you clothed Me, I was sick and you looked after Me, I was in prison and you visited Me.’ Then the righteous will answer Him, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You something to drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? When did we see You sick or in prison and visit You?' And the King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of Mine, you did for Me.’ ~ Matthew 25:34-40

It occurs to me that the people many view as lowly are the very same people the King refers to as brothers.

Visible said...

A new Smoking Mirrors is up-

Kanye West gets Ready for his Rodan's Thinker Moment. Do I shit or do I go Blind.

Visible said...

Amen to that; anonymous. I have to remind myself of that nearly every day about judging others, cause I do. It's a hard nut to crack.

Visible said...

A new Petri Dish is up now-

Kanye and Danielle do The Tango for Two in the Ballroom of the Overlook Hotel.

Anonymous said...


re: personkind.
The power of the word Mankind is derived from natural law,
as are the words Woman and Man.
Other gender delineations and confused delusions
are directed attempts to separate us from the power of natural law.
It IS ALL about the word$...


torus said...


Word UP. Manus, hands, set mankind "apart". But we're together in this. Hands. Close your eyes and think of one of yours right now......"See" how easy it is to see your hand in the mind's eye. Hands become "speech" for the mute and eyes for the blind.

"How do you think he does it!?
(I Don't know!)
What makes him so good?..."

Opposable thumbs up!

The pleasure and pain wrought by mankind's hands is staggering!
But it is all prefaced with a thought; be it a murder or a piano concerto.
You really gotta' "hand" it to 'em.
I stared at my hands high on acid once. To say anything else about THAT experience would be pointless. Sheesh...

"Personkind" as used by our beloved Prime Minister is just transparent bullshit. Literally, a see through sculpture of dung, lacking any earthy or natural "odour".
Ironically, his shit stinks.

Anonymous said...

Thumbs up also for the seemingly requisite anomalies.
Here's one, and she's a real beauty!

torus said...


Indeed, the portly pachyderm packs a puff. The royal ELephant.

And the Prime Ministers "personkind? We're dealing with "persona" (can you hear me) here. Something a former drama teacher like Trudeau should know. To the govt. I'm not even a persona, I'm debased to being a number.



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.