April is almost here. The day after tomorrow is April Fools Day. I hope we don’t get fooled again… as the song goes, more or less. There are great stinking piles of excrement all over the place. The world has become a marsh of hog lagoons and you’ve got to watch your step. The problem is, when people are watching their step they tend to notice shit; pun intended. That’s not good for the people who put it there and nothing will take the mind off of the smell quite as well as the smell of blood.
Blood and excrement; it sounds like one of those BBC miniseries like Buggery and the Lash; “an award winning adventure on the high seas, in three parts, brought to you by Roto Rooter” or… well, I think you get the picture though you might rather not. Yes, the smell of blood and the news feed of large structures burning in the distance will surely take your mind off of watching your step and it might not take all that much to convince you that the hazards you are negotiating around were actually placed there by the people serendipitously named as having spilled the blood and started the fires.
I don’t want to be an alarmist. I do want to keep mentioning something because it is only a matter of time and opportunity after all. The means and motive are in place and… we’ve already been here a time or two; have we not? I can hear conspiracy theories spinning like silent, road apples in space. What always fails to get mentioned is that conspiracy is an inseparable part of business, government and religion and they could scarcely operate or profit without it. We are all of us, for the most part, conspiring all of the time after one thing or another.
The fact of the matter is, when certain elements have activated the FUBAR machine it is only a matter of time before they have to orchestrate something to blame on someone else so that they can hunt them down and kill them. Someone has to come on stage with buckets of raw meat and toss portions out to the slavering crowd. There is the added benefit that any measures which need to be taken for protection and defense get the automatic rubber stamp and… we’ve already been here a time or two; have we not?
I’ve mentioned this before but it bears mentioning it again. What you are seeing in the MSM does not reflect what is going on behind the scenes. What you are being told about the G-20 is not what is going on with the G-20. What you have been told about most anything does not reflect what is going on about most anything if it has anything to do with the manipulated swine who left all those hog lagoons behind them as they marched back and forth from the trough.
They’ve gotten themselves into a bit of a bind you see. They went just a tad crazy with the greed and the feeding frenzy and it’s that bad that you can’t hide it very well. They would like to blame it on the elephant or the eight hundred pound gorilla in the room but both of them look pretty small next to the enormous hog that broke the scale and so we can’t really give you any dimensions at the moment.
This unveiling… revealing… uncovering thing is proving to be a real pain for the miscreants and that great sleeping beast of a public is getting somewhat wrought. I’m guessing you can hear the rattling of the rakes and pitchforks in the dawn’s early light.
Some perspicacious reader sent me the interesting graphic, of unknown providence, which you see above. You will remember my mention of Chicago and Seattle and it’s a curiosity to find Chicago dead center and Seattle on the precise tip of the upper left hand point. This probably doesn’t mean anything but you know how we conspiracy nuts tend to latch on to anything in reach that adds some sensation to our claims and insinuations.
It’s not a good thing, those Iranian Jews being all comfy in the home court and it’s not a welcome thing to have the Turkish authorities nail the Israelis for land theft. Of course, when your intelligence agency gets caught plotting the murder of the head of state it’s likely to cause a little bad feeling; eh wot? After that, it can be assumed that Bob’s not your uncle any more.
I don’t know if it’s my tinfoil hat or all those sessions I had with The Leary Gang over the course of the millions of years of experiences that took place in the wink of an eye but… I feel things. It doesn’t seem to me like the same things you feel when you’re drunk in someone else’s house and feeling for the light switch. It’s more like things arriving down a thin column of light and making pictures in my head. Then someone or other, I can’t see who, connects these pictures into a story line and off we go making all kinds of connections. But I’m not the Lone Ranger am I?
It’s the nature of the psychopathic personality to be unable to control the impetus to do really nasty things and then blame them on a convenient target. We’ve already seen that a time or two; have we not? I’ve a vested interest in it not being the Iranians because of my extremely fond regard for the pistachio nut and, I’ll have to admit, I don’t want anyone killed for someone else’s bad behavior. I probably should have sequenced it the other way but I’m out of pistachios at the moment.
The signs are telling me that as one day follows another the pressure is going to increase. The massive effort being given to propping up the stock markets each day is a seriously draining affair. Then there’s the goat factor. You may or may not know that when goats get into rut that they piss all over themselves in the excitement but that is true. So on one side you’ve got a major problem with an artificial picture of the world’s economy and on the other hand you’ve got a particular nation with a priapean hunger for blood. AND… you’ve got that ticking clock that’s counting the minutes until the wrong evidence becomes widely public. As I said… what’s going on behind the scenes is quite different from what is going on in front of you.
See, there’s another kind of pressure that exists in the rat culture which guarantees that a number of rats are going behave like rats and turn on each other in hopes of surviving the fallout from a long period of rat behavior.
Public opinion is not going the way that the wolves in their sheep jackets want it to and, for some reason they can’t fathom, their control of the news is not controlling the news. Nothing frustrates a psychopath more than the sense that he is not in control. When that happens he’s all about forced compliance so… like the sergeant says at the Hill Street Blues, briefing sessions, “Let’s be careful out there.”
I think I’ve been obscure enough and wack enough for today and I hope some amount of what I am trying to say will filter down through the syntax. My guess is that things are going to start to heat up the same way the coming season brings a welcome rise in temperature, although this one may not be as welcome as that one.
So… mind the rats and the goats as you negotiate the blood and excrement and I’m hoping we can meet up at that Japanese Garden just past the mine field. We were born with the map in our head so it shouldn’t be that difficult to make it through if you don’t forget the reason you came this far in the first place. They may not be done yet but neither are we and there’s the added comfort of knowing that we are headed to different destinations so, let’s just see if we can soldier on for a little bit longer. Much love to you all in these interesting times.
Miracle of Love