Wednesday, May 04, 2022

"This World is Filled with Ambulatory Appetites in Human Form; Hungry Ghosts in Search of a Respite."

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

Someone is poking the beehive. There is an angry humming that fills the air. The collective and unfocused violence of sound is in search of a landing zone. It can only be The Material Plane. Hordes of angry insects are stirred by invisible arrows of passion, injected into the common mind, set afire with rage against their fellows and all comers. It can be credibly presumed that agitators are involved, and one does not have to look beyond the usual suspects to find the source of it. Someone... something, is always looking for a place to divide anything against itself and make a buck out of it. It's what they do.

No matter how long Stupidity may be around, it NEVER gets any smarter. It easily falls prey to the same provocations, over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. One day it's patriotism; often referred to as the last refuge of scoundrels. On another day, it is a difference of opinion about something that wasn't important only the day before. Next week, it will be differences of color... or religion... or sex... or even a confusion of sexes in search of ever greater confusion. It is all the product of Materialism, whose byproducts include; laziness, selfishness, stupidity, and chief among the choices... INSANITY.

On the playing fields of Insanity, Lust, and Anger, trade places in the effort to mug, yoke-rob... or sexually violate the other. Every day is another turn in the barrel for Tweedledee, and Tweedledum, who I am pretty sure won't fit into the barrel in either case. Conditions on the ground are getting more and more volatile every day.

Humanity does not like moving into the next age, and so... has to be dragged there... kicking and screaming, like the spoiled children that they are, while their neurotic... helicopter parents, without a pilot's license, crash and burn, over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. It's a “Groundhog Day” remake, directed by Roman Polanski and written by Rob Zombie.

Humanity doesn't like change at all. It is a serious disconnect for them to be endlessly clamoring for It.

It didn't feel like I was getting special treatment, by having next to nothing, through the whole of this life, in terms of congealed, dust-collectibles that most people seem to fancy having. These days, I am more inclined to believe I was favored in a very ironic way. To quote the inimitable Lucas Jackson; “sometimes nothing is a real cool hand.”

It TRULY is so... that everything is upside-down and backwards. Once you get right side up, and forward-facing-after-a-fashion, you can clearly see this. However... when you are upside down and backwards, you can't see anything as it is. It is not hard to convince you that The Met Gala is THE place to be. Of course, ANYONE with even the slightest measure of taste or self-awareness, can look at the art hosted there, and see how well it reflects the upside-down and backwards stupidity of the attendees. It's NOT art.

This world is filled with ambulatory appetites in human form; embodiments of Hungry Ghosts in search of respite. Someone wants to be president. Another wants to be under the lights of Broadway. Many want to steal and kill. They don't know why, but... they have been at it for a long, long while.

ANYONE with even a small grasp of history should be able to see what it is that goes on down here... in times like these. You don't have to be Oswald Spengler to see the cyclicity of the action. An informed mind and intuitive heart can see the concept of Karma concealed in the cyclicity of events. Once... IT dawns on you, it never stops dawning on you. Imagine a sunrise that never ends. Until it dawns on you, you can't see much of anything besides burning shadows, dancing in the ghost flames of unrequited desire. It reminds me of that great poem, “Cynara.”

“Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,

Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,

When I awoke and found the dawn was gray:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,

Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,

Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.”

It's beautifully written... inspired... but a dreadful perspective. Yet... that is The World. The... temporarily- rich and powerful, those made famous by the fickle touch of what could not... reasonably be called, Good Fortune... those whose lives have been one long act of self-indulgence, they are the favored dancers on The Stage of The Moment. Their movements are recorded. Their presence is acknowledged. Books are written about the tedious insults they have left upon the face of life. We most certainly hear about their charity... their endless charity balls, but... someone is always balling Charity, and there is a line outside the door. It's like a Vietnam R&R getaway to the fleshpots of wherever. AND...

it goes on, and on, and on. Heroes and villains are endlessly recycled, changing places and destinies. It's all showbiz, here on the sensory plane. I wonder what it is like to have associated yourself with the idea of living your own truth... only to find that there is no such thing?

Everywhere... nearly everywhere; they are getting crazier, and crazier, and crazier. People with no sense of self are getting hijacked, right and left, by those cast down from The Invisible Plane by The Avatar, in search of unattended vehicles. The same thing is happening to those with too much sense of self. This is what The Crazy is. It is the howling, banshee darkness of The Unconscious, facilitated in its performance by intoxicants of internal AND external chemical action.

I wish I had more to tell you. Fortunately... it seems that I do. The World of Appearances is... a lie. It is a great misfortune to buy into them. They are hollow and conceal a great emptiness. If you fed it everything that there was... it would still be empty. We... choose what fills and animates us. You become that which you aspire to... and just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it isn't there. You get closer every day. If your attention is on it... it is a Tractor Beam. It is in accord with the electro-magnetics that influence ALL action... be it thought, word... or deed.

If you love God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and with all your mind, you WILL become God in microcosm. You WILL be made free to travel the length and depth of The Universe unhindered. You can stay at The Akashic Inn for ten thousand years if it pleases you. Once Moksha has come. Once you are become Jivanmukti... until the wheel stops spinning (and that's different for everyone), you go through the motions, but... each motion is a divinely choreographed joy... streaming from the point of light that is the origin of it all. On your journey back, it is ALWAYS difficult at The Beginning, and that... that can go on, and on too; it's different for everyone.

HOWEVER... the time comes when the tide turns, and you are no longer swimming against the current. Now... the current carries you. It's like the hair-leashes on the horses and flying dragons that the Na-vi use on Pandora. You have to make the connection. You have to be switched on. For that... you have to go to The Switchmaster and convince him to do so. How do you accomplish this? It is with PERSISTENCE. The Switchmaster needs to be impressed by your sincerity. Don't be surprised if he takes everything you have, and puts you through the wringer more than once. THAT is why... that is why so few persist.

One does not demonstrate their sincerity by standing in line and filling out a form. It is demonstrated in ADVERSITY and TRIAL. There is NO GETTING AROUND THIS! You thought being a Seal was hard? Mountain climbing? I'll show you mountains. Deep-sea diving? I know an ocean deeper than anything we have here. Many swim down and never return... or, should I say Few ever go very far beneath the surface? BUT... you can do anything through him that strengthens you. FIRST THING!!! First thing you should think of doing is to locate The Switchmaster. Do that first!!! After that... there is no difficulty that you cannot surmount.

If you want to go dancing with The Loony Tunes, you certainly can. If you want to get in The Chorus Line, kicking out like a Rockette, you can do this. If you want to amass a fortune in congealed dust. If you want to be a clueless embarrassment, the highway is clearly marked. It's all playacting in the format of a dream. It comes and goes. It is forgotten and remade. It is a circus of pretenders walking out into the heat of the evening, waving to the crowd that reaches to devour them like a make-believe pastry.

When The Sun cries, he does it by proxy.

End Transmission.......

Some links=

GAB... as our next stop Facebook replacement=

Some links=

Via RT
Real reporting!!!=

Via Remix News
Frankly, I was amazed to see this.
It is more confirmation that Mr. Apocalypse is on site, on his game, and on the money=

Via NewsWars
Atlantis... kind of went down in the same way. Their maturity did not stay up with the technology. Kids playing with fire set their house ablaze=

Via Ancient Pages
Something to think about=

Via Breitbart
Well... how about that?=

Via The Daily Crow
In case you were remotely curious... interestingly, I already knew (in intuitive fashion that it had come out through Sotomayor's office=

Via PetiteNicoco@Twitter
I'm thinking about starting a go-fund-me account for this... um=

Via The Daily Crow
So... there are always righteous members that reflect the other 25% and 17% This demographic is the most (by far) supportive of everything from sexual dysfunction to forced and financed immigration for the purpose of destroying the country. If there is anything that is not good for humanity as a whole... they are behind it; and who is behind them?=

Via Investment Watch
Well now. Just to show you they are dead serious about being crazy=

Via Fox News
Hot fun in the summertime?=

Pedal pub accident

Via Before It's News
This encapsulates it very well=


Anonymous said...

So, Visible, I didn't see a link for that Akashic Inn you spoke of and I wondered if they took reservations? Asking for a friend ;>

Splendid post!

Love, Priscilla

Love To Push Those Buttons said...

Oh man, what a post. Are we expecting a world wide 'Reign of Terror'? I expect the inhabitants of Tristan da Cunha and whoever moved back to Pitcairn after a complete 'evacuation' I read about a few years back (that I can find no info on in a cursory search) will be quite relieved to be there.

Or maybe not. Who will supply them until after it's over?

Gods, I can't wait until this crap is OVER!

Nostrils up.

Gregory said...

Another beautiful post.

Thank you.

Visible said...

I've always considered you to be among the most intelligent minds to have come around here, or... perhaps anywhere. We don't always agree with each other, but only frauds or fools expect that.

Visible said...

A new Smoking Mirrors is up now=

"We Became Crazy... Via the Unreasonable Perspective of Defining Ourselves According to Everything Else."



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