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New Jeer

How will I spend my New Year?

What new year?

For the Hebrews it is 5773

For the Buddhists it is 2556.

For the Chinese it is 4710.

For the Arabs it is 1433

Each one has its own cycle of Sun or Moon depending on what cult they are in and from my point of view other than knowing when to plant your seeds or knowing when the Nile is going to flood I have never needed a calendar. Have no use for new years neither. The Gregorian calendar is off by at least a year because the Catholics didn’t get the Zero from the Arabs until after the priests fucked up (hard to erase illuminated manuscripts with gold leaf) and it is a tribute to religious tenacity to not admit you fucked up and start all over again. Too much trauma to be harvested from schoolboys trying to do a conversion on just when the Hell the 16th century was. Plus you get that extra adrenaline buzz to say that the Mayan calendar (gee, remember that one? been so long already) was not harmonized to said counting-number vs. real-number fuckup so we get to relive the fear of the end of the world all over again in 2013. Book your tickets in advance for a discount. But more to the point: we are IN HELL, so it is just another arbitrary celebration(?) of going around Dante’s Circle yet again. Kindof like ticking off days in your prison cell while doing Life. Doesn’t amount to much but it is something to do.

But beyond that it is the DOING that the Controllers like so much. When you can get a million assholes to freeze said assholes off in Times Square looking at some artificial nonsense to celebrate a date that — well, read the intro again — doesn’t mean Jack Shit, then it serves the purpose of demonstrating that you command a million assholes. Not really liking the visual on that one.

So, since I have been undigitized since Silent Sound mind control was made mandatory by the government to the point of issuing low income coupons for TVs, I will not be distracted by the asshole parade and will get some well-needed sleep because we have the entire endless Circle of this Malbolge in Hell to circumnavigate all over again when we get up in the morning.

Happy Hellydays.

Dog the Wag

If you haven’t seen the movie you must.

No, I don’t get royalties (interesting root word for kickbacks to the king) and I despise Hollyweird, but if you realize that fiction is where they hide the documentaries and journalism is where they bury (as in dead thing) the truth, then you will see what a lethal sense of humor They have.

In Wag The Dog there is a beret-wearing fellatio queen in a predictive program before Old Willey got in and did his thing with a fine young girl from Hebrew School then set his sights (literally in military terms) on some countries you never heard of before they set their sights on them. Given that the region was the birthplace of Tesla and Einstein’s first wife it should bear some investigation as to what they were trying to eliminate there with milliondollarapop cruise missiles. (?)


Be it known to my general audience that I don’t stream video for two reasons:

1) one minute takes a half an hour to load on dialup
2) I don’t trust any service like Hulu (both syllables are demonic surnames from Babylon) due to audio visual entrainment that they had in one of their introductory advertisements when the site first came online.
3) everyone I know is ADDICTED to Utube.

Ok, that was three.

So, It is on Jon’s good honor that I take his observations and interpretations of said video at face value. I know Hollyweird intimately and everything about it is a Con. Jon is not the only one calling this entire excusetograbguns an agitation propaganda theater. Jon has an entire series of articles on this topic and I admire anyone who can birddog a topic like this to root out what the actual story really is.

And what is it from my view outside the fishbowl?

Well, from the analysis of others because I do not know these people, I do not know if there are legitimate losses of life, I do not know if this is real or staged, but it has the patina of a ‘shooting’ at a ‘remote location’ outside of the normal Hollyweird studios. But then Shakeyspear said that all of the world’s a stage. Just ask the guy who wrote the off-Broadway script that was allegedly plagiarized to make The Truman Show.

Adrenochrome is a real substance. It is a psychomimetic. This means that it is an addictive hallucinogen. A tolerance can be developed to it so that the addicted craves more. It seems that the monsters behind this sacrifice whether real or not will escalate their destructions because they are getting diminishing returns on their high, thus forcing them to ever-escalating madness to surfeit those desires.

There are those like Fritz Springmeier who say that Crowley was british military intelligence and that is no stretch given the Pentagon’s involvement with sorcery in the 1960s and beyond (email me for court transcript material). So, the branches of the Qaballah Family Tree simply twist around the roots when we find that Abe Lincoln, Bush, Princess Diana, Prince Philip, Twilight star, Brad Pitt, ad nauseum, are all blood descendents of Vlad Tepes III. It seems at this point that we are returning back to those days of the 1200s AD where witchkraft and heresy were decried to root out the innocent in favor of replacing them like Pod People with the true Witches and Blasphemous where everyone knew everyone else except for the Witchsmeller. Because the commoners lived in close, related communities they knew each other and knew of their overseers sometimes just by name or reputation. Imagine: ratting out your neighbors and family and killing them in public because some stranger said it was God’s Will. (?) Been reeling from that one for years.

Anyhowdy —-

What we have here is a return to those days when there was an intimate knowledge of just who is connected to whom (commoners vs. royalty) and the Witchsmellers smell of Witches and don’t seem to give a damn. Crowley, Tepes, and Quakers. Well, Cotton Mather was a Puritan and by all accounts was a Witch (Wiccans really get pissed when you use the word Warlock). In fact, my little Blogocytes, the pointy hat associated with the typical Holloween (hollywood?) witch was the standard headgear of Puritan women. Go figure. No — I mean it — go figure. They have been IN YOUR FACE throughout history but the fluoride and bromine and Ergot in the village wells have kept you quite in an altered state to not even notice until your noses are pushed in it like a puppy into its own poo. Funny I should bring up Ergot and Quakers in the same sentence. Since I am Opposite Dei, there is no religion that is not suspect of manipulation by pharmacopoeia. The Catholics who like to burn Frankincense don’t tell you that it has the same cannibanoids as well — a plant that they have a war on drugs about. But it is OK to get high in church. That’s religion. I am positive that you will not see any SWAT teams busting into cathedrals to seize incense burners. Then there is the curious thing about people who Quake during their religious practices. Where did you think the term Quakers and Shakers came from?

Given the work of Hulda Clark who says that Ergot toxin can make you hear voices and put you into a Jekyll and Hyde personality rip, and the whole Linda Caporael thing about the Salem Witch trials being caused by quaking shaking foaming victims of Ergotism, you have to wonder if the Quaker/Shaker pastors (sheep herders) didn’t have a festering shock of Rye grain in the floorboard to make the parishioners ‘see god’. (?)

Where was I? — it’s hard to keep track —

Oh, yeah. You find that ALL of Hollywood is related to the badasses of history and as Jon Rappoport so perfectly outlines all news now is a police statement that is parroted by the media that is Hollywood. This parallels the domination of a figure like Vlad The Impaler who was a general (military again) telling people what to think and do on pain of death (or worse) and Crowley who was a pseudo-religious military agent all linked up with what Chris Carter labeled: The Military Industrial ENTERTAINMENT complex. You don’t see me on the NYT bestseller list. I ain’t Family. Your entire perceptions of the world around you are shaped by Them. They come from the most bloodthirsty gene sequences the last great bombardment could conjure. Their traditions are steep in the use of brain altering drugs to enslave a workforce to do their commands.

The Age of Belief is over.

We are in the Age of Mechanism, where something has to work or it must be recycled or utterly destroyed.

The application of that is going to be more difficult than you can imagine as will be seen in my next blog.

Stay Un-tuned.

Your New Years Resolutions

Since most people need to whistle to know what end to wipe, I thought it would be more efficient if I just provided a list of New Years Resolutions for the population at large. They are in the ancient Egyptian form of negative affirmations.

– I will no longer repeat the insanity: There are more of Us than there are of Them.

– I will no longer believe that mankind can Wake Up.

– I will no longer think that Education can change anything.

– I will no longer work towards useless goals.

– I will not Occupy anything but my own toilet because unless I have taken over the given target, then the word, its meaning, and my actions are full of shit.

– I will not give money to causes that I think are working on My Side because 99% of them are already run and funded by the Other Side and the other 0.99% are already run and funded by the Other Side. I will use my money for my own spontaneous and inventive plan to return the planet to peace. [Oh. No. That wasn’t a negative affirmation. Well — maybe it was — these whistle-wipers won’t do the right thing anyway. That’s a negative.] That’s why I wouldn’t suggest sending money to the Grain Ghetto Dude because stupid people seek out and cause to prosper stupid causes that actually work against them, and we have it on very good authority that Stupid is Contagious, so I don’t want any part of Crazy.

– I will not be addicted to Fear Porn.

– I will not expose myself to digital broadcasts, fluoridated water, bromine in bread or sodapop, GMO foods, solanine, caffeine, nicotine, or theobromine.

– I will not continue to live my life unsupplemented with nascent Iodine, pure carbonated water, and Real Salt. Thank you Edgar Cayce wherever you aren’t.

– I will not think that resistance is futile but spend my every waking and sleeping moment on how to optimize and leverage opposition.

– I will not let Outside Agency ever tell me what to think.

– I will not

– I will

– I

A Priore Knowledge

Because I write for you and not for me, I pay attention when folks say that it seems like I start my topics as if they were the middle of an already established conversation.

So, here is the backstory:
Archimedes came up with a form of calculus 1800 years before Newton. The Romans (germanic tribe associated with the Lilith Moon Cult of Babylonian) made Archimedes’ work disappear. One of his books was cut up and inked over to make a christian hymnbook that found its way to a monastery in the Yudean desert. What this tells me is that there is a culture out there that has had access to advance mathematics for nearly 2 millennia. Arthur C. Clarke of 2001: A Space Odyssey fame said that any sufficiently advanced technology would seem like magic.

There is a construct that we call the Medical Manhattan Project where the functions of the human body are being deconstructed in the way that 1700s Reductionist Science might take apart a finely crafted watch to see how it works and then copy it. When confronted with the concept that by the 1700s there was most likely hidden technology that would make the average industrial revolutionist look like a caveman compared to a spaceman, then the advent and public announcement of a Priore machine 200 years later can be viewed in two ways:

1) They already had this kind of technology and were just publicizing it because their toaster-sized version was already second gen. so they were just teasing the caged animals with what they could never have access to.


2) They really are that stupid like a bunch of cavemen themselves trying to reverse engineer God’s DVD collection from the crashed spaceship, with all the lumbering technical know-how of: try this — no that didn’t work — ok, try this — no that didn’t work, until the herd of monkeys finally typed out a first draft of Shakespeare (I know I mix metaphors all the time, they are about as intoxicating as mixed drinks); so that it has taken them 2012 years just to get to the point of fixing the replicators, the transporters and the shuttles and then work on the ANTI-DEATH PHOTON ARRAY.

There are those who ridicule ‘fringe’ science. But when I see the obvious fact that the Russians have exceeded everyone in technology and math so that they are at least 50-years in advance of the world and the physics of an anti-death photon seems plausible on just first read-through, then I devote quite a bit of computation time in the back of my cranial processor to considering this problem.

One of the problems arises with simply the clash of biology with technology.
If you consider that the ancient Qi Gong masters had neither millions of Francs or high tech plasma tubes (at least I wouldn’t think you could sneak one of those into the Xiaolin Temple under your saffron robes without being noticed) but were able to perform what would be considered miracles, then might we be barking up the wrong Lofty Pine if we pursued a technological answer to the problems that face us?

After all, even the Taoist masters didn’t have such a remarkable run at the longevity thing, while they claimed 120 was dying young quite a number of them kicked it at 80 because they were drinking gold and mercury trying to be hip with the Egyptian Mysteries Monks who obviously forgot to tell them, “Oh — and don’t forget to —- oh. Never mind.”

People look to me for answers.

I have none.

This is just me picking up rocks to find something fascinating or repulsing underneath only to spur on the picking up of yet another rock just to see what is underneath on the off chance that there might be a message: Here Be The Truth.

Consider this a Gift, then, that if you didn’t know the link above existed, that now you do and now you have something to work towards.


One is the Loneliest Number

It just didn’t seem right to have a gap. After all every single television show that was Action Adventure had a Beat The Clock plot with a Countdown. Think about how many gameshows have beating the clock with countdowns as the core of their ‘competition’.

Once you get the legends of the Forgotten Ones in your head that Kaos and Kronos were disorder and order and that what we are facing in what is erroneously called the New World Order where even our farts will be micromanaged (no shit — pardon the pun — do a websearch on management counting gaseous emissions before firing someone) is really just the antithesis of the Old World Disorder.

The most poignant thing I had ever heard on television came from a Game Warden in the Everglades of Florida. The urban sprawl and development was destroying wetlands, so the Govern Mente (To Steer The Mind) in its wisdom tried to manage run-off and other factors. It was a disaster. The Game Warden said, “When you try to control a system it destabilizes it.”

This is why I have always despised the NWO.

So, we are one day away from Chris Carter’s release of transgenic bees to turn us all into alien husking machines.

Or not.

So, if it doesn’t happen on December 25, 2012 the historical day of the Sun Cult celebration, then what will people do? Carefully open their giftwrapped packages so that they can feel ‘green’ by reusing it the next year? But what next year? For all of the grief I have given the New Agers about their tree-hugging and crystal-rubbing and total lack of beamage from the starship Galactic Centeraka, the moon and sun haven’t been in their normal positions for over a year now. The Zombie Slave Work Units go about their business as usual as if next Christmas was scripted for them as it had been for millennia. Well, that is the millennia between the time when the sun and moon weren’t in their right positions and Anatoly Fomenko documented that all of a sudden the names and faces repeated and they didn’t even try to change them to protect the guilty because anyone who could have remembered was somehow excoriated from the face of the planet, either by some cosmic event or something as mundane as being whacked by Guido for a few Lira. Hope I got the spelling right. Americans are notoriously so uncosmopolitan.

So, one thing that disturbed me from the X-Files movie is that if they were going to release bees, how would that affect people who lived in the snow like here in the Grain Ghetto? Armor-plated bees with longjohns? I don’t know. It made for a good storyline but my money would be on the archived work of Operation Paperclip where they already developed all of the delivery methods in Japan. Although bedbugs don’t seem as glamorous for a Pop TV series, my money would be on those for the Alien Apocalypse. After all they even showed up in Victoria Secrets when they were first released.

So, I guess for those celebrating Christmas, at least, I would shake my presents before opening them, and if they sound like angry buzzing then give them a pass or just re-gift them.

It may be post-holiday depression that I didn’t get what I wanted for the holidays: the total extinction of the powerstructure of the Princes of the Moon and Sun, but this year just won’t be the same without a Velikovsky flyby of Venus excoriating the earth in a finger-of-god display that would make even an atheist wet his dungarees. I’ll get over it, but it is kind of like getting fuzzy, itchy socks as presents instead of that Red Rider wagon you had your heart set on.

So, one more day to go, my fellow Denizens of Dante’s Den, then I will get back to complaining about the mundane stuff that I was complaining about before I was woken up to be told the world wasn’t ending. That is one of my all-time favorite Far Side cartoons: Go back to sleep. It was just a nightmare. You’re still in Hell.


Who will rid me of these troublesome (Mayan) priests?

The Fear Porn has gotten to the place where you just can’t get anybody’s adrenals to produce the hallucinogenic substance that the Monster’s Inc. boys feed on anymore because —- well, they are worn out. The adrenal glands that is.

First we were confronted with the End O The World on the 21st but when that fizzled like a Higgs Bozon popping into a strangelets alternate universe, they whip this out on us:

Oooops! Shit! “Missed a decimal place when we carved the stone.” “Not done with the interpretation yet—”

Not done yet????

What the hell? They have been making predictions about the end of the world like it was carved in stone and now they are saying that it might have just been directions to the corner quickmart that was open 23.5 hours per day.

That’s about as unforgivable as the 666 scam being run in the bible with no indication of whether the number was Base Ten of the Shumerians, Base Six of the Akkadians, or Base 60 after the Akkadians took over and tried to hide the fact that they had six fingers.

Now they are saying that the date might be off by a year. That’s great for an audience weaned on the cliffhanger episodes of LOST, but for those of us who compost bullshit for fertilizer it is just another rerun of the Epic of Gilgamesh with a flashy new title of Epic of Build a Mess (a chapter in my new book). It makes you wonder if the Agitational Propaganda Officers who promote this compost were subject to having their beating hearts cut out and offered to the Sun God every time they made a bad prediction, how much longer this Dog & Llama show would be paraded in front of the adoring masses?

Well, Sunday is almost over and that is about the only thing that is over with, so we still have Chris Carter’s target date coming up, and then I guess I can put a Jai Alai ball in the honeycomb hole until next year when the kooks will come out with no memory of being made the sacrifices a sun cycle before.

Birth of a New Religion

I was going to wait until we were sure that FEMA wasn’t going to release Chris Carter’s Bees for Chrichmus, but I figured: What the Hell? Enough money has gone through the New Age sewers to fund a dozen Third World Countries into the next Long Count Calendar, I might as well get even a few days start on the rush.

Mechanism is defined as the philosophy that something has to work or it must be recycled or destroyed utterly.

Pretty much the entire damned planet doesn’t work.

Well, most of the little scabies mites that scurry across the planet as if they had purpose on Gaia’s skin ACT like they are working but if you knew anything about sustainable infrastructure you would have known a lifetime ago that it was written in the Protocols that they make and break millionaires and the entire illusory Game of Economy is controlled by Them. When you print money at will: what is it to get an entire planetary population to breed their brains out for the muscle power to do your secret Manhattan-Project labor for you and then when they have fulfilled their usefulness you can kill them surreptitiously by just choking off the money supply?

That brings us to the Georgia Guidestones.

Not a bad idea, really, if the numbers were turned around so that the living population left was Us but They were the ones taken care of by the bugsprayman.

In the new religion of Mechanism the Georgia Guidestones would be left in place but turned into a low-income housing project. Well, that would be the old way of looking at things. In Mechanism there would be no class structure, there would be no ‘low-income’.

We would all be wearing terrycloth bathrobes not because it was a cult uniform but because they are comfortable and practical. And they have pockets. And they can double as something to wipe your hands on if you are working on a greasy tractor. And the belt can be tied off at the top of a grainbin so you don’t fall down.

We wouldn’t be wearing any sandals. Not because they make men look effeminate, but because if you stub your toes on a farm implement made of solid steel you will sound pretty effeminate screaming like a girl.

Like I said: Mechanism would be a practical religion.

I could go on and on.

But if you like what you hear so far go to my website and make a donation toward the bright new future where we all grow our own pure food instead of eating flakes of corn grown as a megacrop from a megacorp where you can’t tell the difference between the corn and the box material. Where people aren’t murdered in doctors’ offices because no military has made them sick in the first place. Where there is no money because —- well, there never has been any money, just commodities masquerading as casino games.

—- and you can have your name monogrammed on your terrycloth bathrobes — one for each day of the week —-

How cool is that?