Wednesday, August 24, 2016

At the Oracle of Anti-Delphi, with a French Maids Outfit and a Feather Duster.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

I wish I had something cultural to write about but there is nothing happening culturally that doesn't involve diseased, bling addicted rappers with IQs that involve metrics, as opposed to avoirdupois, in order to give the impression of literacy, where none exists ...and to utilize smaller increments of measurement; apparently size matters when you can inflate the sum of nothing. The level of violent thought that is coming out of these Oracles of anti-Delphi is amazing. The Dark Ages got nothing on us. At least in The Dark Ages they knew better than to record it. Now we record it all. That's going to have the same impact as chewing gum hardening under a middle school desk, somewhere in the unwashed dystopia of 'where the Hell am I anyway?' Meanwhile, Lindsey Lohan wants to go to Russia.

I wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then. Contemporary life is like surgery done with toenail clippers and too much anesthetic. You can have the surgery, I'll take the anesthetic.

There must be hope out there somewhere and I believe there is. Someone who really hated me just got in touch to tell me they wanted to bury the hatchet and... not in my head. You could have knocked me over with a feather-duster. It probably would have been better if I wasn't wearing a French maids outfit at the time but... I've always been a fan of haute couture and the dynamics of plugs and sockets. Actually, it blew my mind, coming on my birthday as it did. I am convinced that if you are endlessly forgiving (no matter whose fault it is- grin) you are well on your way to making peace with yourself. I am very grateful to this lady for reaching out as she did. It takes a lot of courage to risk the unpredictability of another person. This much I know about myself, if you want to make peace with me, you can assume I already did the groundwork on my part. I make it a point to forgive everyone as quickly as I can manage and wait in the hope that they can do the same for me.

One of the truths that nearly no one is cognizant of, is that we are all those portions of seemingly external characters that perform in our lives. If we can make straight the way within our own hearts, eventually the way will be made straight at every reach in extension from us. We are the mirrors for every circumstance and condition, 'within you and without you.' In other words, the whole of our existence takes place in our minds and then it afterwards projects itself on to the screen of the manifest performance side. Trying to talk about this sort of thing and being able to make sense of it at the same time is about as tricky as it gets. If you don't know what you are doing to begin with, it is unlikely that you will sort it out later on. In other words, going in the wrong direction, or operating out of a primal fallacy, will never result in the right direction of primal truth ...unless trauma or epiphany interfere.

Here is an interview with Don Ferguson AKA Zen Gardner. This is a very odd interplay of a couple of hours. The strangest part is the woman doing the interview. She looks like what I imagine Henry Kissinger or George Soros's mother might look like. The level of corruption in her face is astonishing. Am I misreading, via my phrenological background? I'm no expert at this sort of thing but I am more informed than any layman might be about the intricacies of the science. Did you know that until somewhere in the first quarter of the 20th Century that Phrenology was a highly respected science and much applied by criminologists and others in law enforcement and the psychiatric and psychological professions? I can see where it would be relevant. It makes sense to me but... as with everything that comes around in my life, I only have to impress myself with the efficacy of something. It doesn't matter to me what others may think, unless they are in a position to inform me about the errors in my thought processes. For that I am ALWAYS grateful, should it be correctly informed. I try to place relentless scrutiny upon myself. You learn nothing if you do not.

Today we are besieged by bullshit like this. As you will note, I take a lot of my links from The Truthseeker. I find Rixon Stewart to be an upright and conscientious man. He had a serious falling out with Jeff Rense. This happens to a lot of people who get casually dismissed and no reason given much of the time. Some of us are so consumed by our vanities that we can't see beyond the distorted mirror of ourselves that gets bent out of shape by self aggrandizement. One should always exercise humility because otherwise you miss all the essential features of your own shortcomings ...and if that is the case..., the image does a Dorian Gray, progressive illusion and sooner or later you wind up in darkness. I like Rixon, he is a mannerly and committed fellow and he doesn't backtrack on his affections. If you are his friend, you are his friend... end of story. I like people like this. You can trust and relax around them. Their whole concern is the truth, wherever it might be found. I could entrust my life to someone like this and I suspect that I do.

(If you are of a mind to meet up with us as we travel, please send your contact specifics to me. It is because so many of you have that Washington State and Oregon are now on our map. The more there are, the more likely we will come into your zone. The more intensely you convince me of your interest, the same will apply. This should be fun. I have felt for years that it would be a wonderful thing to sit across from any number of you, across a spread blanket, or on a picnic table, enjoying food and drink and company.)

I have nothing against Jeff Rense or Michael Rivero, or any of the other souls where a falling out has taken place. I get more and more convinced by the day that it mostly has to do with my unreserved love of the almighty. Crazy I may be but... it is a scientific insanity. I have actually put the work in. There is much I am not convinced of, or which exists in theory- though the theory is heavily weighted in the circumstantial and mentally projected- with some libraries of corroboration. I come across all kinds of things like this. The sheer numbers of the information sent my way makes me believe the Library at Alexandria is still around, at least in the minds and archives of some.

It is amazing what can happen in a person's life, if they are seriously committed to finding the truth. The truth will show up on their doorstep. Everything in life abides according to electro-magnetic principles. We don't know the extent of this at the moment but it is coming via Mr. Apocalypse. Certain tantrics know what there is to know about the universe, simply because it is all an interaction between the opposites. All technology and a great deal of spiritual truth comes out of this. The formation of the manifest is the dance of procreation between the opposites and beyond that lies the non dual but... what does any of it mean? People come to their wits end arguing about it but it is only to be comprehended in the silence of the quieted mind, beneath the testimony of lustrous love hewn stars. The wonders of simplicity are remarkable. This is why the almighty very often uses the simple and the crazy to accomplish his will. The trumpets of the world acknowledge the entrance and exit of the bombastic, ego driven world changers; thousands and sometimes millions, die in the wake of their passage but those who save lives and souls are more often forgotten because 'here' is not where they are remembered. They are remembered in those places that celebrate such efforts and where the vehicles of such industries reside. It isn't the applause of the world that one should hunger after but only the acknowledgment of their fellows in the realms beyond. One should not even hunger for that but more for the shared awareness of kindred spirits. It isn't what happens to you here that matters; that is only temporary. It is more important what happens in the places outside of the bandwidth of physical sight and the limited parameters of reason in a place like this.

I am really looking forward to seeing so many of you and some of you I have said this to. I expect to be more surprised by those I never heard from until recently. It is in the simple hearth of the heart where our important business is accomplished; there by the fireside of our most sincere and long enduring passions. God truly does love us, regardless of our knowing anything about it.

This is a world of endless curiosities; fascinating concepts and objects of no lasting value. Love alone brings us to the heights of our possibilities. It is love that is responsible for anything significant that we share a portion of the responsibility in for bringing it off. We are no more or less than what we identify with. In the end we become that which we sought most after. In the end it is the image of our own reflection in the pool of memory that we reveals ourself to ourselves. It is all remembering and not discovery. “There is nothing new under the sun.”


End Transmission.......

Friday, August 19, 2016

The Boxed in Gardens of Zen Gardner and the Tragedies of Schadenfreude.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

We are presently in the doldrums section of the ocean of change. I was born in the last third of August. It seems like awhile ago now (grin). Typically nothing much happens in that time frame, historically. Typically nothing much happens in August period, by comparison with more active months and some of those months are coming up. October looms large and we hope to be locked away for the second half of that month, using a periscope to scout out the landscape. One can pretty much assume that they are going to be bringing out the big guns of Terror on the crawl up to the rigged election. This means that The Mossad should be slithering around in preparation for whatever horrors they have on the drawing board at the moment. Satan's workshop should be bustling with activity as the demon elves put together their anti-Christmas packages for those who have been naughty all year long.

I've no idea of what is coming. I recognize the levels of flammability that are present in the culture and in Nature as well. The Ring of Fire is rumbling. So many areas of being, from the streets of the modern cities to the pressure zones beneath the Earth, are pulsing with the transitionary fires of change. It could come from anywhere and from everywhere at the same time. The complexity of potential is daunting. There are so many here who fall into only a few camps; the 'doom and gloom' brigade, the 'absolutely positive regardless of appearances' clique, the- 'I don't give a shit... whatever' contingent and, of course, the, 'I have no clue' brigade. This makes up a large percentage of the human race; possibly the largest group is the group that is scrambling every day to stay above water, while the elites open every metaphorical and literal fire hydrant in town.

I've had a chance to talk to some members of the day to day dream land cabal of people who take what they see around them and define that as all there is. Instead of just laying it out like I usually do and not caring who I alienate, I have kept my own counsel and just shown an interest in the lives of others. There was a time when I felt I should take every opportunity to tell it like it is; how Israel did 9/11 and what all those Middle Eastern wars are all about, as well as the psychopathic criminality of Wall Street and the political theaters, not to mention the international bankers. These days I say very little and pay a great deal more attention to what others have to say. This is not to imply that I find any of it interesting because most of it is not ...but I have learned that the greatest service you can pay to others is just to listen to them and add what might prove useful to them, based on whatever they tell you.

I feel like I have passed the point where I think what I have to say is so important that I just have to say it. I believe that if I never said another word that would be just fine. The wind in the trees has more to say than I do. Sometimes there comes a moment when I can actually interpret what the wind is saying but those times are rare. In those times there is such a poetry in the wind. I can never remember if I was hearing words or simply seeing images. Whatever the case may have been, the experience was powerful.

These days the almighty is the primary concern of every moment. I know I cannot get closer than I am, until the ineffable moves closer. It's all on a kind of proximity rating system. Time and consistency of behavior, juxtapose with the roulette wheel of universal change. There is a wheel of fortune aspect to existence. Spotting those moments of available serendipity is the hard part. To be able to see the biorhythmic upward swing when it is mostly always hidden is an art. I think it is less of an art than it is an intuitive sense and some people have it and most do not. You'll know if you do.

The space between beginning this post and my being back here again has involved some terrible revelations and I will refer you here. When Jeff Rense decided to toss Henry Makow from his site he replaced him with Zen Gardner. I know some things about Jeff now that I wish I didn't but in any case I am going to take the high road and not comment on them. I feel so much better about myself as a result that there is no need to say anything and these things are going to come out shortly anyway- cue Mr. Apocalypse. Art Bell was involved in very similar work and also had the same employer. I've heard a lot of things in my travels and have heard the same things about Art Bell from various sources. When someone is heavily into promoting Halloween-UFO's and devotes large sectors of their sites to the bizarre and have never been right about anything yet, you can be sure that they work for the same people that the same people like them worked for before. None of this has anything to do with Zen Gardner but I am known to digress (grin).

It's a sad state of affairs, this situation that Zen Gardner finds himself in. I don't know what to think. I wasn't there. I noticed he was behaving in an odd fashion in recent times but that's not really my affair. He and I aren't friends and I've been given to believe he doesn't like me very much but I don't rate or judge people according to that. I can well understand why some people wouldn't like me and I don't hold it against them, especially if they don't know me in the first place. Well, I don't know Zen Gardner so I've got nothing to say about him. The evidence is fair damning but there could be all kinds of extenuating circumstances and I know that the Children of God separated families from each other and kept the membership in an economic condition that made getting away difficult. The leadership was composed of practicing Satanists and I don't doubt they had connections to intelligence services as well and most intelligence services are composed of practicing Satanists.

I don't know what to think about this matter. I do know that this is all a continuation of Mr. Apocalypse amplifying and accelerating what he has been up to for some while now. It could be that not all that needs to be known is known and that that will manifest over time. I can understand how one might become trapped in a particular matrix and be unable to find their way out. I am not one of those people jeering from the sidelines and gloating in the dilemma that another can find themselves in. I look at the man's face and I am perplexed. I wonder and I wonder but I do not know. I do not know Zen Gardner but I do know that, “there but for fortune goes you and I.” I have no such things in my past. The only thing in my past is what I might charitably call, 'colorful behavior' (grin); not as much as can be easily seen in the lives and lifestyles of many another artist ...but some measure... heh heh.

I wish Zen Gardner well. I really do and hope that he can pass through this fire and find both redemption and epiphany. As I look into the details of what caused him to become exposed I am very puzzled. More is going on here than meets the eye. I thank God that I have been protected most of the time from the potential bad consequences of what might have been but never was. I believe that if you are seeking God and demonstrating the sincerity of that in service to others that no matter what tasks or conditions are set before you, you will find redemption. Look at the tale of Milarepa.

I do not mean to here imply that I am passing any judgment on the fellow from The Philosopher's Stone because I am not. He surely has his reasons for doing as he is doing and I am not privy to them, nor do I know the totality of the story by any means. I like The Philosopher's Stone and have found it to be a useful and informative site. I'm not taking sides in this affair. All I can say is that I am sorry that any of this ever had to happen. I feel even worse for the people who have been long time supporters of Zen Gardner. It's a hard place to be and there is surely a great deal of bad feeling and a pervasive sense of loss across the board.

There is going to be a lot more of this kind of thing and that includes certain webmasters who are going to find that the tide has turned against them in an almost supernatural way. I will take no joy in this either. I am not a fan of schadenfreude. I am a strong believer in compassion and understanding because weapons can turn upon those wielding them and often one can find themselves in the same circumstances they were so dedicated in putting another into.

You're in my prayers Zen. This has nothing to do with what you might have done, have done and did not do. It has to do with the always present potential for being spiritually transformed by tragedy and any of the various mediums by which we come to a true awareness of ourselves and others. I've no certainty of the truth of the tale of Paul of Tarsus but the story is an example of what is possible for any of us, no matter how far we have gone down the wrong road. Only God knows what is in our hearts. With rare exception, we don't even know ourselves.


End Transmission.......

Last Sunday's radio broadcast is still broadcasting.

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Coiling Gaboon Vipers and the Restless Monkey Mind.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

Far under the compost of the leaves in years passed, one can hear the muffled rumble of the drums of war, coiling up like a Gaboon Viper, in stealth mode, on the far side of an ancient, decomposing log. It might be hard to imagine getting bitten by a metaphor for a vibrating skin; a metaphor the snake is still living in. You don't want to get bitten by one of these. They have an enormous head and two inch fangs.

It is all the actions of serpents on the inter-penetrating planes. You can see enormous serpents half in and half out of the Earth. They are holographic projections of connecting diamond shapes that you can see right through. You can hear the demigod sounding the OM in the darkness of the Muladhara. Initially this also is the drum of war, uncoiling as it rises through the portals in search of Peace and... Peace will come once the opposites are united in the harmony of their love. The entirety of the process is all internal. The outside mirrors the inside; “your inside is out and your outside is in So come on. Come on, it's such a joy. Come on, is such a joy. Come on and take it easy. Come on and make it easy. Make it easy... Everybody's got something to hide, cept for me and my monkey.” The mind is a monkey and I guess you can fill in the blanks. Given the nature of a monkey you can assume there are a lot of blanks. Then... there is the Monkey on a Stick; Murder, Madness and the Hare Krishna Murders. You wonder how events like this can happen.

It should be clear by now that in this age of confusion, Religion is one of the linchpins of insanity. It contains the madness in a holding pattern, until the widening gyre fragments and things fall apart. The center will no longer hold.

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”



No greater poem has been written in the centuries of conflict preceding the moment we are in. It says it all ...and now... the mercenaries skulk into the Crimea, to force the issue and enrich the Tribe bankers and B52 cockroaches like Victoria Nuland and her, 'hail Satan' husband, Robert Kagan, who was one of the dual national architects of The Project for a New American Century and- by extension- the 9/11 attacks. The evidence for this is clear but the doomed sheep pay it no mind. They got their own injunctions of appetite. More than half of these sewer vermin are neo-con fascists by way of the fantasy land of Rothschild. All the parts of the puzzle interlink. A high school freshman could suss this out, while tens of thousands of college educated zombies have 'all you can eat' on their minds; the monkey dances, the reflection trembles and is equally as incoherent as the figure seeking to articulate it for the desirable prizes of appetite. More! More! More! I hunger without respite and it matters not who dies, at the hands of the uniformed armies of lies.

Why... against all the arguments of reason and prudence, do these slathering, mouth breathing monsters, persist in the creation of such carnage? They are whipped forward by their infernal master. They have no recourse but to make piles after pile of skulls, bleached white beneath the pitiless sun of darker doings in darker days. It's like Phnom Penh all over again; to paraphrase Yogi Berra.

The world is a lot easier to understand if you look at the whole dynamic of its operation as a Holy War. We are not speaking so much about one faith militarized against another, as we are referring to a War of Souls. Just as Nature sprouts in the Spring and comes to fruition in the summer, harvest time arrives eventually. The fruits are not brought into the silos and barns however, they are routed onward toward whatever destination is the sure and certain result of the thoughts, words and deeds of the residents here.

We have heard various arguments, for and against, the existence of Heaven and Hell ...but even casual observation on the doings of this plane make it quite clear that both Heaven and Hell exist in various forms right here and since; “as above so below,” one can reasonably presume that these places exist in more rarefied and even denser versions of themselves somewhere else. I believe what the Hindu traditions teach and I firmly believe that all of the other religions came out of these traditions, in the root beginnings ...and then came to be established, according whatever changes and schisms followed. In the Hindu and Buddhist traditions, of which the latter came out of the former, it is said that there are lokas; what we would call Heavens and they become more and more refined and blessed as they come to exist in ever more pristine and indescribable environments. One also remains in these locations for periods of longer and longer durations, based on the fineness of the locale. Knowledge of these locations is reserved for the very few. There is some kind of cosmic reason why so little is known about the worlds beyond. Atheists point to this as just one more argument that there are no worlds beyond. Most assuredly there are and a study of the various rays that exist in subtle nature will yield much reward for the committed investigator.

I have long been both dismayed and amused by such a large body of the populations that can, with little effort given, provide such sweeping pronouncements, concerning what they know nothing about. In the end, it seems to me that people arrive at the conclusions they desire, in order to justify and legitimize their life choices. They look for arguments and philosophies that affirm the world view that is most in accord with what they are after. This flies in the face of all that is reasonable but... we live in unreasonable times. One should seek to prove what is, in order to adapt to it and have the assurance of reality behind the conclusions they have proven through experience to be so. Of course, there is much that we cannot know but... it is possible to come into a state of abiding confidence in what one does not know, via the intuitive mathematics of what one does know. It's like algebra. You can shoot around corners. Most importantly, if you search for the ineffable (recognizing that the ineffable is searching for you), the ineffable will provide to your mind and heart, all things necessary and desirable to know.

I saw things in heightened states of awareness which proved beyond a shadow of doubt that there is not only a God but a vast and intricate celestial hierarchy. These evidences were provided to me over and over, across time, in such volume that I can remember only a small amount of everything and everyone I experienced and encountered. I was truly fortunate in this regard but... anyone could be. You just have to want it ...and drugs aren't necessary. Various disciplines can take the determined to states of consciousness well beyond anything that drugs can facilitate.

I caught some ration of shit for my use of Ketamine, which went on for several years but once those experiences that it could provide were exhausted, I never used it again.

There is a God my friends and you can choose the relationship you desire; father, mother, lover, friend and more. I chose 'friend'. Each relationship has its own special parameters of experience. Accept that God is real and set out to prove it to yourself in your daily adventures by simply loving the almighty and allowing the natural progression of this form of devotion to unwind into the destiny toward which it leads. Each of us are different and so each of our destinies will have a unique flavor to it. The terrain of landscape and experience may differ but the final result will not. God will reel you in like a fish. Once the hook is set you are done for, in the very best of ways.


End Transmission.......

There will be a radio broadcast Sunday night. The program starts at 8:00 Eastern and my segment comes on about half an hour later but James is always a good listen.

Monday, August 08, 2016

For what it May or May not be Worth.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

Hmmm... this may be one of the more unusual postings. I'm just guessing here. Certainly my mind is fairly clear at the moment and that is surprising since I did something I haven't done in memory over a fairly long reach. I got up and fixed myself a vodka cocktail and then I had several more. There has been no appreciable effect.

Then my friend told me that today- 8/8 is something significant concerning the Dog Star and the Sirius Cluster. As you know, I have connections there. As soon as I was told this I recognized that I was shielding myself from this energy; creating a cocoon haze, if you will. Then I understood that this was good energy, especially in my case and maybe that is why I can feel no real effect from the measures I took. Ah well. I sometimes tend to forget that there are forces more powerful than those acting on the surface of this planet, that play into the dramas going on here. This is why I preach about the force of appearances ...but somehow seem to forget that when I come into contact with them. Honesty is a real high wire act, most definitely since most everyone doesn't want to experience it. Integrity is even more elusive. Do you hang with it and go solitary? Do you let your hair down for the sake of company and the illusion of kinship? I can't answer these questions for anyone but myself and I have answered them to myself.

There is a blogger that I have a good deal of admiration for and he has excerpted some lines from Mein Kampf. You will find the commentary not only of a clear and high order but prescient. If I am the Dog Poet, he is the Cat Poet. I am not a National Socialist. I've never been either a fan or a critic of Hitler. I don't understand the whole affair well enough to run my mouth on it. I try never to pretend to know what I am talking about, unless I know what I am talking about. I don't like having to eat my words or expose my ignorance. I try to stay in the areas of awareness where I might know a thing or two, keeping in mind that even then, I don't know all that much. There are a few less traveled roads where I know the landscape better than most and upon that hinges everything I consider important. What goes on here is not relevant, except as a zone of departure.

I am starting to realize that what goes on here has nothing to do with what goes on here, except for it being a shadow play of puppets on strings, who dance to the call of what they have given themselves over to. It is what each and all of them do. For reasons that truly escape me, for the most part, people think what goes on here is important. It is not. The role you play and the roles you do not play are of singular force but even that is lost like the disappearing bubbles; that froth... that momentarily exists as the foam on the sand, until the waves come in again. The cyclicity is marvelous. The consistency and predictability of it is amazing. It is like the windings of an expensive watch but... time is of no importance at all. Timing, however, is very important.

I have come to believe that timing is all about what or who you are listening to. If I had any word of advice for anyone, it would be that one should find a timeless and immaterial source for all of their movements here in the world of darkness. “Ye though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” Make friends in high places. This is the best I can tell you and the best you can hope to achieve. Of course it will cost you dearly; such friendships come at a certain cost and almost no one is willing to pay this but... the value is priceless. I've noticed this during my whole life here and I have had and still have some very good friends on this plane but I have rarely, if ever, met anyone who is willing to endure the cost of certain esoteric adventures. This might be my biggest disappointment in life, that so few were willing to risk so much and yet... and yet... they toss away the potential of their existence for nothing. To me this is more horrific than anything else and also takes a certain kind of courage, even if they do not know what the price of it might be.

These last days it is all about the Olympics, which certain forces have used as an excuse to embarrass Russia. I don't give a flying fuck about physical achievements, unless they are demonstrated in the pursuit of the ineffable. I am reminded of the W.H. Auden poem about 'golden lads and girls must' etc;

I just spent 15 minutes looking for this poem. The internet locked up on me twice and I could not get it. This has never happened before. I probably can find the one about 'stop all the clocks' so I will go with that;

“Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.”



You might remember this poem if you have seen, “Four Weddings and a Funeral”, which, arguably is one of the better films made. I wonder sometimes if people think I am anti-gay; far from it. Though I myself am not so inclined, I have experienced grave censure for my defense and support of gay friends. When my friend, Kenny O'Brien was sick with AIDS, I folded up my tent in Hawaii and moved to Woodstock to be with him and stayed there for a year until he died. One night, while Kenny was dying I went down to the Tinker Street Cafe to perform and I met up with Barry Landsman, a real n'er do well. He and his brother Steven were heir to a multi-multi million dollar real estate fortune and we were in the club and Michael Lang's (the producer of the Woodstock Festival) two daughters were there at the table. They were two of the principal 'town pumps' of the time and Barry suggested we go to a particular home to hang out, get high, whatever it was that was up and I was coming along when one of Lang's daughters said she wouldn't get in the car with me because I was gay. I laughed out loud and- still polite- asked how she had come to that determination and she mentioned that I was hanging out with Kenny and therefore I had to be a fag and diseased. As you can imagine, if you know me, I informed her that I was not and I also informed her that she was a complete slut, along with her sister, who had had sex with every able bodied man in town, not in a wheel chair or lying in a coffin ...and that they were both a public joke and the result of much toilet humor in that town. Strangely enough they were offended (heh heh-good!).

One young Lochinvar had the spirit to come to the defense of these mascaraed clowns but Barry stepped in and told him that was not a good idea. Barry knew me well. I had been his bodyguard on various occasions and am not proud of that now. I walked away. It is never about what people do that offends me. I REALLY don't care. It is when you politicize it and jam it down the collective public throat through political machinations where I begin to object. I don't care about rap music. It seems that there are people that actually enjoy it.

I do care when no other music is allowed to be played and when music and every other medium is used to indoctrinate people and especially children. I have to live in this world, at least for a little while longer and I refuse to be silent. I.. quite simply... refuse. If I am wrong about certain things, like the elegance and spiritual beauty of rap music, please forgive me, apparently I have no taste. I am a romantic. That is why I like songs like this;



and also this...



...which is just proof to me as every moment of my life has been that there is a god and it is proof that reincarnation is a fact, as far as I know she had never been in Italy.

Here it is done by one of the masters (notice his face when he finishes):



...and he was an itinerant truck driver when he got discovered and then had to deal with a lifetime of hanging out with assholes. How can you walk away from hearing him and he with no training? Explain all this unexplainable shit to me and I will listen... just explain it to me and... I know you cannot and I have seen way better performances on more invisible stages than this.

But this once poor and now dead and passed on truck driver encapsulated the truth that god is always with us and gives us constant witness to his/her presence if we would only fucking listen but we, for the most part do not and then only fancy ourselves important when we get to talk to them. Here is real truth, god is watching all the time; watching right now as you read these words, watching through your own eyes as is how it works, by the way. I am one of the lucky ones, I caught this FACT and I live it in my poor fashion but... always, in my own life, I see my own insignificance in comparison with the all high. I figure that all the pain I went through was more than worth it to have come to some brief awareness of the overarching beauty of the ineffable, who proves to me every day how real that beauty is and I am honored and unworthy as well of it but I pursue it and always will. It is all that matters.

Sure, I like Chopin, his piano work is so filled with pain running on the rocks down an endless stream and so many others that have inspired and shaped me but I will always be a romantic because I am in love and I am in love with the greatest lover of all and I don't plan on quitting now. There is no woman I have ever been with that does not know this about me because I celebrated in them; metaphorically speaking (grin).\

You see what happens when I get a little loose, but it is true nonetheless and there are very few spelling mistakes. God bless you one and all!


End Transmission........

This weeks radio broadcast is now up for whatever it is worth.

Thursday, August 04, 2016

Anointed with Hyena Semen and Wolverine Piss.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

Well, it is definitely official now. The near wholly owned Zionist media REALLY hates Donald Trump. I've been watching this site for weeks now and sometimes it is as if Trump and all Trump related news; so long as it is negative, is all the news. As you scroll down the page, you find them announcing the same information over and over. The latest is an 'alleged' Trump intervention by such moral standouts as Mr. Deep in the Facilitation of the Israeli 9/11 Assault on America, Rudolph- the red nosed tranny- Giuliani and other name faces, where phrenology boils down to being able to read the cowpie formations of their features. If you read the article you see that there is no proof of any of this. Those close to Trump say they have no knowledge of any such thing and there is no quote by any of the 'alleged' players to that effect. There has been page after page of garbage, like the uproar from one Khan whose son died over a decade ago in one of those Israeli promoted and sponsored Middle East conflicts. He is apparently neck deep in the odious murk of Clinton's nether regions.

Today's page is surprisingly light on Trump affairs. I could have picked another day but this is the day it's come up. However, on my word, it has been off the charts on negative Trumporabilia. In the days that Red Ass Khan came bombastically out at the Gay Israeli Convention in Philadelphia, they would have the same article reproduced half a dozen times on THE SAME PAGE. I can't remember if he was followed by the spokes-it for Tranny Lives Matter but that is neither here nor there but... probably there.

The curious anomaly of this whole scenario is the extent to which Trump is not being measured and circumspect about what he says and which dovetails right back into what we have often said here, that he is a stalking horse for Kill 'em Dead Clinton. Why would she even need a stalking horse? She needs one because most of the nation hates her and they are pulling out all stops to make it look like she is the anointed. She might well be if the anointing oil is hyena semen mixed with wolverine piss. Lately the headlines have been blasting on about that criminal who was/is associated with Hewlett Packard coming out for the Clitosaurean. They want to make it look like major Republicans are leaving the party in droves to celebrate and support this latest permutation of Elizabeth Báthory.

Let's be clear here, I am no Trump supporter but I am a fair play inclined sort of a guy and I know that Hillary is a toxic waste dump, who is wholly owned by America and Christianities most bitter enemy; the Zionists. It doesn't take much to see who the real enemy of not only humanity but of the human race is and that is the full on atheistic and Satanic Zionists. They weren't banking on Mr. Apocalypse and now they are scrambling about like cockroaches caught in the sudden kitchen light of a Philadelphia slum project. Here is only one example of the sorts of efforts Mr. Apocalypse is bankrolling these days. It went up yesterday but it should go up again today as well. It will soon enough be in the sidebars here.

All over the planet, people are waking up and they are angry. This is being routinely ignored by the Crass Zio-Media and they are hammer banging on everything they can find to take the public's mind off of what Mr. Apocalypse keeps drawing it back to. They keep trying to finance and promote transparent lies, when they are not pulling the strings on manufactured global conflicts, bankrolled by their central banker kin. They are doing everything they can to plunge the world into chaos because this is what their sworn master demands. He doesn't care one way or another about them or their victims. He just wants the chaos because that is his job. He was appointed to this particular employment by the ineffable. People find it hard to get their heads around this truth but that doesn't impact on it whatsoever.

The thing is, in the past... their presently active techniques were effective. They had no inclination or motivation to change them. They could create one enemy after another and send the young men from both sides off to their death. It's hard to imagine people being stupid enough to be seduced over and over by the same slogans and circumstances but... they are. It's been said that “patriotism is the last refuge of scoundrels.” It is also the residential neighborhood of flag waving morons. These evil, evil fools are running scared now. Part of them is consumed by a reckless, overcompensating false confidence and part of them is trembling under the surface because they know that

"Mr. Apocalypse is Coming"



The reality is that their appearance of power is that of a paper tiger. It has the force of a tart fart in a thunderstorm. The force of the thunderstorm is the nature play of the ineffable. The force of the bad guys comes from the same source as the thunderstorm; from the same force where all force comes.

In the control room of the ineffable is a command panel with a switching mechanism and it routes all the power in the universe. The ineffable doesn't need sliders, buttons or knobs. All the ineffable has to do is to think something for it to come into being. With the ineffable there is no degree of hesitation. The will of the ineffable isn't time sensitive. There are masters going about here and there, very few of them, who can materialize as if they were the ineffable (the rishis come to mind) but... that is because the ineffable is operating through them. Only the ineffable can do this, which means that anyone who can do this is channeling the ineffable. Then there are the rest of us who can materialize things at lesser or greater speeds than one another. All of us do this but the time involved in most cases keeps us from being aware that we are doing it. In many cases it is the perpetuating product of negative meditation. In other cases there are those of a greater, positive perspective who are familiar with creative visualization. Their results are dependent on various factors. Some of you have had experiences of bringing things to pass. Some of us bring things to pass but do not make the deeper connections concerning the process.

The realities of existence are more profound than the general imagination can see. The truth is that there is only so much you can know on your own. It is the difference between an intellectual apprehension of something and Revelation. Without Revelation, you will never have more than a partial picture so, regardless of your vaunted self importance on a pitiful handful of subjects, if that... your own skewered vision of who you are and what you are, remains the biggest obstacle to your understanding that you will ever be faced with and this false self of yours will either be self abdicated or it will be dethroned in the process of the purpose of demonstration. There is only one thing that is really worth knowing and that is that you do not know ...but... that someone does. Once you find that font of limitless truth, knowledge and power, you are on your way and the good news is that you only got to look for it. Surely obstacles will be thrown in your way. You can't get anything here without putting some effort into it. Even if you do get a free lunch, you still have to put it in your mouth, chew it and digest it. When it comes to the most important thing in this or any other world, the requirements are more stringent. Once again though, it is fairly simple... you must simply persevere in your search, survive the tests and want it more than anything else. How hard can that be (grin)?

Yes... the swine have come out of the sty and are determined to turn the whole world into one. They are worthy of censure and contempt but they are more to be pitied. In the words of the great master; “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” It has taken me a long time to learn some of the things I already knew. Some of the bad guys had no choice about the roles they are playing now. It is true that they walked the road to the roadhouse they are performing in. However, one must keep in mind that sometimes a demon is an angel in disguise and at the appointed moment may well be transformed into light. I wouldn't recommend completely believing this as a rule of thumb. This is simply to say that one never knows. The ineffable has a way of tricking us through the medium of our own false beliefs. The ineffable has a way of tying our shoestrings together for the purpose of the inevitable destiny of pride. Only through profound humility and unrelenting ardor can one evade the snares and pitfalls of this world. Only through the acquisition of the qualities of God can one approach the personality of God. Some things are worth having and some are not. We need to figure out what those are because we will surely come to know what value they do and do not possess.


End Transmission.......

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