Friday, August 7, 2015

What the hell, eh? Perhaps we can see this: a system that attempts to collect all - and we’re talking all — thought patterns, movements, and mental activities, even a priori, and toss it into a cloud, and then have an AI react to it’s assessment of all these thoughts. They can even tweak (modulate) brain waves if they read “undesirable” ones…

The big question: what exactly is an “undesirable” thought?

 In other words, what is the quantifiable calculus by which said thoughts are considered “undersirable”, what is the criteria, and who is to say?

This, my friends, is the system Luciferius - the Beast Grid, where (as the great “DJ”, a fantastic computer programmer and researcher alluded to on John B. Wells’ program) we will all be nodes in the system and treated therewith. It is a perfectly counterfeit and imitation of the operative system that Yahweh has designed, but it is purely artificial and the end game is the enslavement/eradication of the human race. If God wants humans to live eternally, his adversary wants death.

But the also likes to play the game: get us all eclipsed from the Writer of the Source Code, the Grand Designer: let’s funnel us all into the Aeon of delusion.

Yessir, that’s what is being set up. Remote-controlled brains, remote communiques (what do you think prayer is?) but rather than being uploaded to a newly designed system by an All Powerful, it is an upload into a manmade cloud server by a bunch of delusional technocrats that think “this time, we’ll do the whole command and control totalitarian thing right.”

Uh huh.

The delusion is so large that they actually believe they are going to reign victorious.

I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news. The good news (for you assholes first): you will have a nice warm lakeside residence. The bad news: it will be a lake of fire.

Thought of the day:

the fundamental difference between a Christian and a transhumanist is that the Christian believes our consciousness/hardware upgrade will be initiated by a far superior programmer than a human. The transhumanist posits it'll be done by we humans.

I am starting to get the feeling that we are being lied to….

The news: strategy of agitation, fear porn, with a mixture of just enough banal and useless crap to keep us from not peeking behind the curtain. Really, it’s PR for the big boys, because they know there are over 7 bil of us and only a handful of them, and they are out of shape elderly men with drool dripping down their chins and their fingers crossed that their buddy Ray Kurzweil will get on with it already so they can climb into a hard drive and live in eternal digitized bliss (plus, they think it’ll be much tougher for the Upper Management to track them down and hold them accountable for the great hornswaggle they’ve inflicted upon the populace at large, so they think…)

  Needless to say, there is an interesting article that stated that on the very same day of the Charlseton “massacre”; the was running a -wait for it- mass-shooter drill. Go figure. saw the “official” schedule for the exercise, though could’ve been doctored up. these days, anything is possible. Hell, I’ve it under good authority that this whole show is Hologram, so in that case it can be said that almost everything is “bravo-sierra” in a sense, or nothing is. I guess whoever is at the perception-switch can be the true “arbiter of reality”; the Federal Reserve of Actuality, they decree what is the current state of things via fiat.

“Well, I do decree, that what I see, and what I believe, is to be everyone’s reality…weeeeeeeeee!”

 Something like that.

But I rant.

So what.

They buy into their own lies so much that they don’t even realize they are doing it.

“What, man?” they shrug.

Then you point out that they have a huge wet spot on their crotch and they don’t look down, they look at you with that blank look, like you are the one who is crazed and out of his mind. Even as you see the fluid tricklin’ down the trouser. Ahh, fuck it. Let em piss their pants.

Sunday, May 31, 2015

how many more exercises in futility are there?

broken dreams, promises, homes, device, people... 
    leftover civilization texting third-rate hand-me-down
pieces of absurd data
unbeknownst to anyone
most of it is loaded
 with high-yield explosives
blow up the
collective consciousness once activated... 

happened before, most likely will happen again...

if I were you

I would:
get with it...
make certain there is an escape route...
take her by the hand and let her know...
wonder what it would be like to be me...
get the fuck back to Dodge and fight like a man...
get the fuck out of Dodge and flee like a wise man...
investigate the way...
wiretap the truth...
eyeball the life...
and run down the dirty bastard who sold you that second-hand dream.

Saturday, May 30, 2015


but only these come to mind: bastards, pigfuckers, assholes, those that prefer to twist words and blades into your heart of populations centers, civilization crumbles before your dead eyes but the television still pumps electronic garbage into your brain.
a neglected planet
on the verge
of  renaissance
or getting sucked into a black hole.

Saturday, May 2, 2015

excerpt: Planet Fever (A Novel Already in Progress)

Mona stood next to the doctor and leaned closer to me. “We know that the Head Covert Manipulator of the Syndicate in this area is a man called Froward Moroni. He acts as an eccentric vagabond who goes around and collects other ‘disenfranchised’ people and enlists them into a roving artistic troupe. Seems harmless on the surface, but covertly the ‘artists’ act as unknowing conduits for the spread of mass-mindwashing. He slips everyone the drugs and we don’t know how, but he implements some sort of transistor-neural frequency via a device––perhaps installed in his own brain––which has laser-like precision properties and can completely act on a personality individually. The person then carries this frequency and spreads it broadband, all on a neuro-telepathical and hyper-subliminal series of bandwidths that piggy-back along all electronic transmissions and frequencies. Very technical and dastardly. These poor bastards don’t realize they are agents for one part of the plan for Subliminal Imperialism.”
      Was she serious? Or had she just memorized that spiel like a good actress?
      Telepathic ventriloquist. That thought scurried from the recesses of my mind to my awareness. Where had I encountered that?
      Mona continued. “You were to act as a spy, gathering intelligence on the man. We apologize, because in order to infiltrate, your mind had to be altered so Moroni couldn’t scan you for your true objectives. He had to be convinced that you were a burned-out drunk writer on the skids. Therefore, you had to be convinced as well, or at least confused about your place in life. That’s why you’re presently confused as to your identity; most of your identity is either cloaked or forged from the pills and neural programming. We're trying to retrieve your actual identity, but it's been tough going.”