the messenger with the aviator shades

at a mountain cafe
the guy in the parked car wearing aviators––
is he checking me or my wife
or does he happen to just be looking in my direction when I look over at him?

he sits shotgun in an electric vehicle. he has been sitting there awhile…
how long? an eternity?
since the dawn of thought, the first perception, the initial spark that
sent it all into a whirling frenzy.
 
we’re talkin' aeons. 

I wonder:
does he know…really know…what the deal is?
maybe he is a messenger from the place beyond the edge of our system––
and he attempts to notify me via telepathy
that this place is going under,
flee this planet while you still can,
get out, now––and take your Boston Terrier and your wife and any valuables you might treasure and skedaddle!
but the message doesn’t penetrate (too much fluoride in the pineal clogs up the third-eye vision, perhaps)
so I sit and sip the and type and “Für Elise” pipes through the speakers and when I look over again,
the man is gone…

disjointed mania

the paranoia of the Ones in Charge ran to levels unrivaled in the history of all things within the realm of things perceptible to any creature with the ability to comprehend abstractions and such….well, at least we still got our - um - well, fuck it - we ain’t got shit -so let’s just go find strange inhalents and cast imbecile, ludicrous wild commands at the populace of exaggeratedly overweight rubes with a penchant for gameshows, soda, and garbage they call “food” (all the stooges applaud).  they seem to enjoy being screwed like idiots, but don’t like being called idiots. so we just have to call them special and number-one while we give em the good ol' Auschwitz treatment - in super-slo-mo, mind you…don’t want to move too fast and cause a stir amongst some of the more uppity ones.  what do we do about the armed ones? screw em, they are a bunch rubes too that think bullets will do the trick when we’ve already infiltrated their base of pooperations: their very minds (the rubes applaud and “woo-woo-wooo”)… A menacing gang of rodeo clowns decide to storm the capital and demand satisfaction, but the guys with the earpieces and dark sunglasses take pause from of their orgy with Colombian pros and train the big-time weaponry on the rabble “mmm, perhaps it is time for the Big One to enter this dimension.”

“I want to remind you, dear readers, that this is simply an impartial report of the events. you might be astonished that the media whores were busy at the market cutting some deals with the Arabian man with shifty eyes and 50 women who have absolute zero right about the cost of their souls….” (end telepathic transmission - a vagrant has taken over the galaxy and pissed all over the wires)

An Analysis of a Very Dangerous Electronic Weapon System

                                             Telephonoscope! (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)
                                               Photo found on: stufftoblowyourmind.com

The electronic weapon is on and in in full effect in the living room: its hypnotic, undulating glow leaves phosphene residue when the eyes are closed - it attacks the immune system of the mind - rendering the victim stupid and in a zombiosis-type state. The brain is slowly rotted from within, and most facilities of logic, reasoning, and creativity are exterminated without prejudiced. the electronic attack profiles all types of people, and takes no prisoners. It targets young and old, male or female, and it don’t care for anything but sheer annihilation of all human life on the planet: “blahs blah ablalask sjdlk dlm fdlsjk flsdj” is what it would seem like to an alien from another planet - a bunch of idiotic images of idiotic people doing idiotic things and psychotronic injection of non-information, misinformation, and disinformation as viable data to willing participants who actually pay for these weapons to be installed in their living rooms and they pay for the ordinance ammunition channels launched incessantly at their eyeballs…

They also pay via their time and the bonus is these weapons will prompt many a viewer into a position of purchasing other self-destruct weapons to inflict yet more damage upon themselves such as an assortment of prescribed drug-based weapons systems, financial instruments of self-immolation, and a political class of assassins who they vote in then get their minds slit by the very same ones they voted in.

Curious by-product: these crazies sit around and talk about  how they have been inflicted by the system, as though it is something special. “Did you see so-and-so blah blah blah on the TV last night?”  That would be like saying: “are you seeing me get shot by mind-numbing agents out of the tube and into my brain as I become an idiot right before your eyes and have no original thought in my noggin because every-single thought is programmed into me by a bunch of hack writers and disinformation specialists?”

Analysis:  infliction of a slow, creeping extinction event of the human race’s  lobotomized soul is 87 percent probable, lest a deus ex machine saves the day.

usher in the new era of hacked .reality

Can you deal with it, partner? Out there on the trail - wondering what, who will ambush you, or are you being followed? and then comes the storms, the dangerous natives, and them giant mountains… what a shitty way to go, but you figure: fuck it, what else I got?

that’s the mindset that got us to here - and now what is the mindset of the day?

“huh - whatever, man. Let people be bombed. and let the bankers be criminals, or is it vise-versa? let the .gov do its peeping-tom song and dance, but Zeus forbid if we wish to counter-peep. Let the drones kill - it’s out of my cell-phone range anyway, so what can I do? let the cheap-shot artists put garbage into your mind. let the poisoning continue: and I am speaking of digital poisoning of the mind, chemical and aerial poisoning of the food, drink and air, and soul poisoning of the hyper-dimensional .reality  …the ol’ one eyes are pouring it on thick - getting the pump primed for the “big culling” and they are probably going to allow the sheep to awaken for the slaughter.

Sheep - know thy shepherd. make certain the wolf didn’t cgi himself up to look like a shepherd…as you know, anything is possible with computers these days - and the virtuals have gotten to the point of surreality whereupon we will eventually be pumped full of wild mind altering substances then uploaded into the “cloud” that we will hardly notice that the last 10 years of our existence was spent on the couch wearing goggles and being fed intravenously. A lifetime; you betcha’.

Hopefully the power doesn’t go out - ruining a planet’s entire collective virtual existence - that would really be a party pooper, eh?