Let Woke Dogs Lie

All political power, no matter who or what exercises it, is based on lies.  The most fundamental of those lies is conning people into thinking one person or group has more power than anyone else.  This is the nature of government.

Underlying all power structures is fear, and this is the goal of all lies.  Convince someone to be afraid of something, then convince them you have a way to protect them, and they will transfer their personal power to you (vote) in order to be delivered from the fear.

Essentially, the nature of power is to create a bogyman - a non-existant threat - to initiate fear, then offer a proprietary solution to the fear, but that solution has a price that inevitably creates more fear.  However, since the masses are choosing the proffered solution, those seeking power cannot be blamed, since the masses have chosen.

Unless, of course, they realize that the original boogyman was itself a lie.

I think of this as the Boots and Coots method and governance.  If you are not familiar with Boots and Coots, then you've never worked in the oil patch (don't tell Mom, she thinks I'm a piano player in a whorehouse).

Boots and Coots is famous for their rather contra-intuitive solution to oil well fires.  They place a "chimney" around the burning well, then set off explosives inside that snuff out the fire by consuming all the oxygen within.  Only Texans would think of blowing up fires.

Anyway, the analogy here is that the presumed leaders create a fearful problem that only they have the solution to fix, but the solution turns out to be worse than the initial problem, and it requires even more draconian solutions in a never-ending cycle.  Meanwhile, each iteration ratchets up the fear levels among the masses, who keep transferring more power to buy safety, based solely on the perception that the group with power was able to solve the previous crisis.

It is essential that the masses never realize the group with power were the creators of the bogeyman, or that the proffered solutions are designed to create more fear and never actually solve anything.  To maintain these illusions requires an ever expanding circle of lies to cover up the tracks of the previous deception.

Eventually, the lies get so outrageous that the masses start to wake up from their dream-state and question what the hell is going on around here.  At this point, the governing power mongers must now turn to utter tyranny to force the masses to believe the lies, or face severe sanctions, which in turn causes more of the masses to wake up.

It's a vicious cycle and the outcome is invariably war and collapse - war because the level of force required to force the masses to believe the lies, and collapse because the entire system is founded on a lie.

The ultimate issue is that when the masses awaken, they are angry and vengeful.  Notice here that I use the present participle gerund "awakening," rather than the simple past "woke".  The gerund implies an ongoing process of discovery that leads to understanding.  The simple past aspect implies a one-time event that is complete and needs no further action.  They are wildly different in their incarnations and outcomes, and highlight the importance of language and grammar in critical thinking processes.

In our current situation, one who is awakening is seeking answers and relationships to fully understand what has been done, and what is being done to them.  One who is woke has already decided they know the answer, and in the extant situation, that answer has been provided to them by the very group that seeks to control them.

The woke individual is convinced that the answer is rectifying the treatment of individuals based on their demographic and superficial characteristics.  It goes something like this: the root of all evil is slavery, and only those with dark skin have ever been slaves, therefore elevating those with dark skin to positions of power will solve the problem.

The fallacy here is manifold.  First, slavery has been visited on all races, creeds and cultures at some point or another.  There is no one group who can claim special status in this regard.  The second problem is promoting some group into the existing power structure simply makes them accessory to the lies, rather than solving any problem.  In other words, it only perpetuates the bogeyman lie, while at the same time placing another layer of blame between the perpetrators and the angry, vengeful masses.

The perceptive reader will see where this is going.  By holding up some group as sacrosanct, the power mongers are in fact creating a strawman to hide the bogeyman, and thus deflect blame and retribution, or to use their terms, turning the awakening into the woke.

Some might say this is the Hegelian Dialectic, but that over-simplifies the subtlety and cunning at work here.  The Dialectic is fairly straightforward and easy to discern, when you know what to look for.  The deception we are suffering from is far more insidious and destructive, and invidious.

Invidious because the power mongers want our wrath and retribution for two specific reasons.  One, they can blame the destruction on the masses, offer a solution, and the entire process starts again with a new bogeyman and fresh set of lies (see the January 6th "insurrection").   Two, they have superior fire-power and having a bogeyman creates the predicate to use it as a solution (witness the pillar of lies used to create this bogeyman).  The bogeyman also creates a false target that deflects attacks as surely as any shield.

This in turn creates fear, and fear leads to surrender of power, and surrender leads to more tyranny and lies.

It's a vicious cycle, one that has repeated for millennia.

An excellent analogy is the unscrupulous mechanic.  You bring your car to him with some problem.  He tinkers and taps his way around the engine, usually while you are in air-conditioned comfort sipping your "free" coffee.  He tells you it will be so much to fix the problem, and you agree, not having taken the time to learn auto mechanics.  A few hours later, you happily drive off, not knowing that the mechanic fixed the easy problem, but created another that will bring you back in a few weeks.  Not only were you fleeced on the initial visit, but you will surely be fleeced again in the near future.

The solution to our current manufactured fear is not diversity, intersectionalism, reparations, or wokeness.  It is taking the time to truly peel away the layers of lies and find the original bogeyman that created the situation - the Primordial Lie, if you will.

The Primordial Lie is never spoken of or acknowledged by the power mongers and their minions.  It is far older than the current laundry list of issues put before us.  It is so ingrained into our social and cultural trappings that most people assume it is tautological.  It is the very energy source on which the matrix operates.  When the awakened individual finds it, they realize both how simple and how devious it is.

Ending the cycle is amazingly easy.  Don't be afraid, or in the immortal words of Douglas Adams, "Don't panic!"

We must realize that the object of our fear, the bogeyman, is manufactured to create fear.  We must also realize that we have been trained (schooled) to hand over our personal power to "authorities" and "experts," who in reality have no more clue how to solve anything than we do, but are adept at creating the conditions that cause us to react in a way that is beneficial to them.  It's a simple dominance game that bypasses our rational faculties and feeds on our instincts.

Basic awareness of the motive is the most powerful weapon we have.  Just knowing what is being done leads to how it's being done.  At that point, the spell is broken and the rest is the hard part.

Once the spell is broken, we must think for ourselves and be responsible for our own safety.  That is the part for which our society is built to subvert.  Games, sports, movies and the rest are nothing more than glittering distractions to prevent us from thinking.

And that is THEIR greatest fear..

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Fear And Loathing In Madrid

I was backpacking around the world at the tender age of 18, back in 1980.  As was the custom among backpackers at the time (dumbphones have completely replaced such antiquated pastimes), folks would trade books at campsites while trading war stories of the road and hard-learned tips for survival.

It was during this adventure that I was introduced to such great works of literature as The Women's Room, The Other Side of Midnight and The Way to Dusty Death.  Though I occasionally lucked into the rare bit of Poe or Kant, for the most part my reading list was uninspired and uninspiring.

At one point, I was en route to Spain, mostly to experience the brand-new French TGV, but also because I spoke fluent Spanish and wanted to go somewhere other than an Anglophone country where I could communicate effectively.

At that time, the French trains stopped at the northern side of the Pyrenees mountains, and one had to board a coal-burning relic of a previous century for the arduous crossing.  This turned out to be one of the most memorable legs on my European trip.

Imagine the Hogwart's train after 20 years of ill-repair.  The wood used to finish out the interior had petrified in place.  Each car had a line of 4-person cabins lining one side and a narrow walkway down the other.  You could not pass another person in the walkway without one of you ducking into one of the cabins to allow the other to pass.

Along the outer edge of the walkway was a gutter, of sorts.  In this gutter, urine from the overflowing toilets would run first one way going uphill, then the other going down.

There was six of us backpackers crammed into my cabin (did I mention they were designed for 4?).  One of them, Tim, turned out to be the first fellow Texan I had met in nearly a year.  He was a student at Baylor University studying literature and on summer walk-about in Europe.  He also had the first peanut butter I had seen since leaving the US nine months before.

We became instant friends, partly because I had La Vache Qui Rit cheese and a baguette with olives and a few precious slices of luncheon (mystery) meat.  He happily traded a generous portion of his peanut butter for a quarter of my rations.

We both learned valuable lessons on that journey, such as don't open windows for a breath of unurinated air when riding on a train with a coal-burning locomotive.  We spent several minutes clearing out the thick, acrid smoke, then shared a crushed, filterless Gauloise cigarette from my dwindling supply.

The subject in the room eventually turned to books, as it always did.  A Swede, a German, two Spaniards and two Texans began the complicated ritual of swapping our libraries.  I don't recall what I had to offer, but it attracted the German's attention, and the book he offered attrated Tim's, who in turn gave me one of the most influential books I have ever read.

Up to this point, I had lived a fairly sheltered life.  I was blissfully unaware of Gonzo journalism and this guy - Hunter S. Thompson - peering at me with aviator glasses and a foot-long cigarette holder looked vaguely dangerous.  Despite my naivete, I had read Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (another profound moment in my life), and Time said that if I liked Breakfast of Champions, I would love this book.

This was a mighty big claim, but I took it on faith from my fellow Texan and dutifully stashed the book in my pack.  Attractive German girls were far more appealing at the moment.

As is the custom in Spanish culture, the entire nation shuts down mid-afternoon for siesta.  As luck would have it, there was a tavern a short walk from the hostel that stayed open, primarily preying on journeyers who were unused to a relaxed lifestyle.  Tim and I quickly became regulars, bringing our books and ordering copious amounts of lukewarm cervesa to while away the lugubrious afternoons.

No more than three pages into the well-worn paperback, I was hooked.

Here was a journalist, a profession I associated with Walter Croncite, being sent to the Kentucky Derby, the Superbowl, political conventions, and never actually making it to the assigned events.  Instead, he and his Polynesian lawyer sidekick were transporting suitcases full of booze, pills and weed, and trashing hotel rooms during paranoid hallucinations of bats and narcs, while occasionally watching moments of the events on television - at least until the TV was destroyed.

I gobbled down the yellowing pulp like Mother's Milk, while single-handedly expanding the marketshare of Estrella Galicia one liter at a time.  I vaguely recall one such day sitting down at around 2 in the afternoon and being asked to go home at closing time some 12 hours later.

During that week that Tim and I wandered around Madrid, discussing the finer points of Thomspson's symbolism, we stumbled into a medieval castle with the massive wooden doors slightly ajar.  There was just enough room for us to sidle into the empty courtyard.  Tim, being still partially tourist, took out his camera and began snapping away.  I, being a journeyer, began committing various still images to my long-term memory.

I don't know how long we stood there, but it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes.  At some point, Tim and I both heard the unmistakable (to any real Texan) sound of a hammer being pulled back.  Michelangelo would have been inspired by our poses as we froze solid in mid-action.

As we stood there, a man in the uniform of a guardia civil strolled slowly around in front of us.  He was about six feet tall, wearing aviator glasses and sporting a foot-long cigarette holder clenched in his brown teeth.

At that precise moment, Tim and I both simultaneously burst into hysterical laughter.  Within seconds, tears were streaming down our faces, as a bizarre mixture of terror and irony tightened its grip on our funny bones.  Though one of the most terrifying sights in all of post-Fascist Spain was yelling at us and waving a .45-caliber pistol, locked and loaded, in our faces, we couldn't stop laughing.  Trying only made it worse, and as anyone who knows Thompson will tell you, having a man in uniform who looks like Hunter Thompson waving a gun in your face and yelling incomprehensibly only served to push us further to our certain doom, laughing uncontrollably every step of the way.

As I write this, I am stroking the scar on my left temple where the generalissimo struck me with the gun sight on the business end of his cocked and loaded .45-caliber pistol.  The warm, sticky feeling running down the side of my face sobered me up, but only slightly.  I still had a powerful sensation of someone poking my long thoracic nerve, causing my abdomen to convulse involuntarily.

I held my hand up...slowly.  "Wait, wait," I pleaded.  "May I show you something?"

He appeared to gaze intently at me, though it was hard to tell behind the limousine-tinted aviator glasses.  "What is it?" he demanded.

"A book, here in my pack.  I think you will understand when you see it," I said in a voice verging on fresh paroxysms of laughter.

The generalissimo yanked the day pack from my hand and gave it to a subordinate who had mysteriously appeared at his side, while the pistol never strayed far from the centers of Tim's and my chests.

The subordinate opened the bad, looked inside, then reached in and pulled out the slowly disintegrating copy of The Great Shark Hunt.  He showed it to the boss man, who glanced quickly at it then back at us.  "So what?" he growled like a pit bull on crack.

"Turn it around, please," I said.

The subordinate looked down at the back of the book, then started laughing.  The generalissimo snatched the book, thankfully dropping the ugly end of his pistol down to the ground.  He flipped the book over and stared silently for what seemd like minutes

"Who is this?" he demanded.  At that point, he flipped the back of the book towards Tim and me, and held it out to us.  From our perspective, there on the left was a mean, nasty, armed holdover from Spain's Fascist past, and on the right was Hunter S. Thompson's visage staring at us from the liner notes on the book.  The two of them were posed almost identically.

Tim tried so hard to stifle a guffaw that he blew a week's worth of snot down the front of his face and shirt.  I was on the verge of fainting, working so hard to stifle a fresh wave of hysteria while standing in Madrid's legendary summer heat.

"His name is Hunter Thompson," I managed.  "He is a famous American writer."  A week before, I wouldn't have known who Thompson was, but I figured the "famous" part couldn't hurt and might stroke the generalissimo's ego a bit.

The generalissimo turned the book around again and stared at the image.  After a moment, he tossed the book at the subordinate, who grappled with it then shoved it back in the bag.  He rummaged around a bit and took out my passport.  He opened it and held it up for the Big Guy to see.

The generalissimo grunted and said, "Americano."

After a moment's pause, he looked at us again.  "What are you doing here?"

"We were walking around and saw this castle.  The gate was open, so we came in to look around," Tim said through strands of drying snot - he hadn't moved his hands in several minutes now.

The generalissimo barked something at the subordinate having to do with puerta and abierta.  The subordinate stuffed my passport bach in the bag and tossed it on the ground, then ran off towards the entrance where Tim and I had come in.

The gneralissimo appeared to glance over our shoulders at the subordinate, though it was hard to tell behind the inscrutable eyewear.  After a moment, he holstered his pistol and took the camera from Tim's hands.  He opened the camera and pulled the film out, exposing its entire length, which he threw on the ground.  He motioned me to pick up my bag and waved towards the massive wooden doors.

"Go," he barked.

We didn't stop running till we were back at our tavern.  We drank heavily the rest of that day, and tossed uneasily that night while visions of bats and narcs haunted our dreams.

Be Afraid - The Great Awakening

Howdy howdy, friends and neighbors.  Welcome to another long-suffering installment of the Far Side journal and toilet supplement.

To all our screaming reader-fans out there who have patiently demanded yet more advenures on the Far Side, we apologize and remind the gentle readers that we have been very busily putting our money where our mouth is by leading the effort to create a massive arts and entertainment complex in Jakarta, unique in the country at this time, to put into practice our constant harping on culture and aesthetics being the key to "taking it back".  Only by contemplating the highest of arts and liberating the mind and spirit from the constant attempts by the PTB to keep us in fear and loathing, can we hope to defeat the wave of evil cynicism and control sweeping our great planet at this time.

Thus, your front-line war correspondent diligently reports on the advancement of Good over Evil from the very point where the two clash and mix in a turbulent maelstrom of life and death.  For those who would like to see what the front lines look like, we steer you to the Ciputra Artpreneur website, where the various weapons of Enlightenment are prominently displayed, as if on some ephemeral May Day parade.  Anyone stopping by and mentioning this column will be treated to a comprehensive behind-the-scenes tour by yours truly.

For those already grumbling and demanding that we come to some kind of point today, let us launch into the topic of "Awakening," since it is tightly related to things such as art and aesthetics.

Around the net, and for several decades now, a lot of folks have been tossing around this term awakening, like so many sacks of philosophical potatoes.  Commentators talk about folks waking up, and others hail the coming awakening, as if it is the New Age version of Pentecost.

Awakening, however, is a much more painful and frightening process than most assume.  It is not something where one wakes up one day in a blissful state, having been freed from the cares of our sick society.

Awakening is, in fact, the complete and total failure of all the framework upon which we hang something called reality.  The first inkling that you are awakening is the realization that reality is not.  Loss of this critical lynchpin causes a chain reaction in which all those systems we use to define reality collapse: family, religion, education, history, government, etc.  It is a terrifying, for most, process that modern psychology labels as mental disease, and for which a great number of people medicate themselves into a stupor to avoid confronting this process.

Suppose you are working on a scaffolded platform several stories above a field of razor-sharp spikes embedded in concrete, when you realize that the scaffold has begun to collapse far below you and you are unable to stop the process.  That sick feeling in the bottom of you gut that blossoms into panic is what is euphamistically called awakening.

My own awakening came while I was in the process of reading The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, and a companion collection of essays by Henry Ford (yes, THAT Henry Ford) called, "The International Jew".

For the record, I am not anti-semitic nor anti-jewish.  Those who call themselves Zionists, and who have Germanic or Russio surnames are not semitic peoples, nor are they religiously Jewish.  They have usurped the titles as a smoke screen for what they are trying to accomplish.  Bear in mind that the modern Zionist movement was founded by the Rothschild family and promoted by the Askinasim jews, who are Caucasians (in the strict sense of the word).  If you need an example of true anti-semitism, you need look no further than Israel'treatment of Palestine in the news.

That being out of the way, reading those above-mentioned texts were a crushing blow to my scaffold. 

Keep in mind that I was raised in a political household by History and English teachers, and my education was solidly based in the Trivium and Quadrivium, with immersion in logic, rhetoric and philosophy, I was already a critical thinker who didn't buy most of the rubbish that passed for "culture".  Add to that my vocation in the arts and media, and I was able to see through and even participate in the indoctrination process that oozes from our TeeVee sets.  In other words, I was closer to awake than most folks are when the moment comes.

Despite all that, when the scaffold collapses, it is not a pretty sight.  The final prop of my scaffold, which was my lifelong indoctrination in the Roman Catholic cult, was the most painful and disconcerting.

It is at the point of collapse that the awakening mind is most vulnerable.  It scrambles for some ledge to grab onto in a desperate attempt to remain suspended above the crash point.  Like a cartoon character that has just run off the edge of a cliff, the mind flaps wildly trying to defy gravity and imminent doom.  The overwhelming fear of having nothing to believe in causes panic as the mind seeks to magically erect a new scaffold at terminal velocity.

If you have not felt this, then you are not yet awake.  Sorry.  It is an inevitable part of the process.  It is the reason that secret societies have levels of mastery, so that the mind is carefully prepared for weightlessness.  Most of us, unfortunately, don't have a Master at our side guiding us through the process.  I was a lucky one, but only because my educational background had put me on the road to awakening and the right people were already in my circle of friends.

The exponential rise of anti-depressants and anti-psychotic drugs is a symptom of the Great Awakening happening to people ill-equipped to handle the transition.  In a society where people are highly discouraged from reading the classics or learning art history or immersing themselves in real self-improvement (Habits of Highly Effective People and 10-Minute Abs do not count), people do not have the tools or foundation to guide them through such a profound experience.  Thus, they feel rudderless and depressed with no idea what to do with these novel feelings.

Few people realize that awakening is a very old experience and one for which there is a lot of literature to ease the transition.  The problem is that most of the beneficial literature is very old (and considered quaint or forbidden), and it is written in cryptic prose that is hard to interpret until you are in the middle of the transition.  For instance, alchemical and hermetic texts will seem dense and undecipherable at first, but once you are in the midst of an awakening, suddenly they will seem to be maps, complete with signposts and landmarks.  Until you have experienced something this profound, the vocabulary seems byzantine and overly complex.  In other words, what appears to be mystical and esoteric at first glance will suddenly become crystal clear and meaningful once you are in the same landscape.

In our age, there are precious few gurus to walk us through this perilous transition.  The nature of the transition is exacerbated by the fact that we no longer trust any of the institutions or systems in our society.  A certain paranoia sets in and we become afraid to follow anyone, much less the matrices that have held us captive for generations.  We are thus cast loose in a wild sea with no compass or sextant and are expected to navigate to safe harbor without charts or knowledge of the stars.  We are truly on our own, and that, for most of us, is a deeply frightening prospect.

The first and most important step in one's awakening is to realize that you are going through it.  The second, and equally important step, is to have absolute faith that the tools you need will come to you when you need them.  This doesn't mean do nothing.  You must read and study the ancient wisdom.  You must find like-minded folks and join together in solidarity.  But know that the key pieces that you need to rebuild your Universe correctly will come to hand - to that I can attest - and they will most often seem small and insignificant until you plug them into your thirsting mind and spirit: a seemingly offhand remark from someone you trust, a bit of text in a book of wisdom, a sudden shift in perspective in a scene you are looking at.

The first part of awakening is very much like Saul being struck from his horse on the way to Damascus, but the genuinely frightening part is that there rarely seems to be any follow up to guide your now-open mind and spirit.  Don't be afraid...or as Douglas Adams so succinctly put it in the Hitchhiker's Guide, "DON'T PANIC!"

At this point, you've taken the first step.  Go about your business as usual and be aware of everything around you.  The tools will start coming quite rapidly, and once you get used to finding them, you will see them everywhere.

The best analogy I have yet found in pop culture, believe it or not, is the scene in "Interview With A Vampire," when Brad Pitt goes through his conversion, and suddenly everything around him seems alive.  That is very much how it feels and what it looks like, and in fact you are entering the realm of eternal life, though it is quite a bit more pleasant than the movie implies.

Avoid imitations.  When the real Awakening comes, it will feel, if not look, exactly like the painting at the top of this column.  You will be struck hard and your initial reaction will be very near terror.  I had a series of shocking visions, to the point that my parents even offered to get an exorcist to help me out.  Don't let the fear win, and most importantly, keep your mind and spirit open to receive the tools that will be coming shortly, and for the rest of your life.

And stay focused on the fact that you are now Neo Unplugged.  You are emerging from a long sleep and soon your body, mind and spirit will begin surging with new powers and sensations you have never experienced before, nor even considered.

Run with it!

Most Likely Kill You In The Morning

Few people stop to think just who conspiracy theories are really serving.  Those folks who do bother to think about conspiracy theories (CTs) at all generally come down on the side that whatever has been condemned as a CT is the thing the Powers That Cower (PTC) don't want you to believe.  In fact, most CTs are purposely planted forbidden fruit used to get most folks from looking at certain information, and those that do to be lost chasing their tails and doing the work of the PTC.

One great example is the "One World Currency" (OWC) theory.  This one has prophecy, religion, economics, and fear all rolled up in a tight little ball, and practically no one sees the obvious: we are being manipulated into hating the one thing that could save us.

Let's look at the elements first.  At the top of the list is 'currency'.  A currency is nothing more than some object, commodity or symbol-laden piece of paper to which everyone gives a value.  All a currency allows me to do is conduct business without barter.  In other words, I can make and sell shoes to the candlestick maker without having to take candles in exchange.  He can give me come currency that I can use to buy things I need, including some candles if necessary.  If the currency is accepted in foreign countries, then I have an international currency that expands my options to buy and sell things.

In this regard, the US dollar, gold and silver, and increasingly the renmimbi are global currencies.  Gold has been for thousands of years and is accepted by most people everywhere.  It's perfect as a currency: practically indestructible, doesn't corrode, weighs the same everywhere, and has a reasonably limited supply.  But it is heavy, and so paper currencies came into being, of which the US dollar is the all-time champion of magic paper.

Now you throw in some prophesy.  Let's see...how about the Revelation of St. John?  You tell everyone for a century or two that the "mark of the beast" means a one-world currency.  This immediately gets all the Bible thumpers on your side fighting the one-world currency.  None of them ever stop to think that gold has been a world currency for thousands of years. This gets so ingrained in the culture that even the not-so-religious start thinking one-world currency is bad.  It's not the only example, but it's a prime one.

Now, you're an international bankster.  You are completely useless to society.  You produce nothing and provide no real service that people really need.  All you do is find creative ways to insert yourself into the middle of every commercial transaction and take money for it.  Sweet gig if you can get it.

One of your biggest and oldest scams that has reaped millions in cash for doing nothing is foreign exchange, or 'forex'.  You've been at it for years.  You had all the Jews exchanging money for sacrifical animals at the Temple and taking a profit for no real product or service.  It was so bad that even Jesus lost his temper and started whipping the lot of you.

Now, does it serve your purposes to have a one-world currency, or as many different ones as possible?  If there's a single global currency (gold for instance), how would you collect your fees for exchanging money, when there is no need for exchange?  If this wasn't such a lucrative business, then why are there 75 exchange booths at the international gates of any airport?

To play the game, you first start spreading your 'custom' interpretation of the Bible prophesy to get everyone all on alert against one-world currencies.  Then you get central banks installed in as many countries as possible and start pulling gold out of circulation and replace it with magic paper.  You call gold "the yellow dog" and ridicule those who buy and/or horde it.  You beat down the price to make folks think it's pretty worthless as currency.

Finally, you start playing with the relative values of all the different currencies so that you are not only taking profits from exchanging currencies every time someone crosses a border, but you are using the differential exchange rates as a means of cashing in, as well.  Thus, you throw all your money into the euro and the relative price starts to climb.  When you hit your targe value, to turn it back into dollars (or whatever) and pocket the difference.

One-world currency is the last thing international bankers want, and they have played with our perceptions and beliefs for a century or more to ensure that you reject the one-world currency idea that would literally break their backs by ending one of their oldest and richest scams.

It's all a huge rip-off and the whole 'conspiracy theory' was manufactured to keep us sheep from looking at the truth.  After all, if the banksters could get us to actively fight against the one thing that coudl really harm them, then think of all the time and effort we would save them!

It's all kinda like the Dread Pirate Roberts scam in The Princess Bride:

Well, Roberts had grown so rich, he wanted to retire. So he took me to his cabin and told me his secret: "I am not the Dread Pirate Roberts," he said. "My name is Ryan. I inherited this ship from the previous Dread Pirate Roberts, just as you will inherit it from me. The man I inherited it from was not the real Dread Pirate Roberts, either. His name was Cummerbund. The real Roberts has been retired fifteen years and living like a king in Patagonia." Then he explained the name was the important thing for inspiring the necessary fear. You see, no one would surrender to the Dread Pirate Westley. So we sailed ashore, took on an entirely new crew and he stayed aboard for awhile as first mate, all the time calling me Roberts. Once the crew believed, he left the ship and I have been Roberts ever since. Except, now that we're together, I shall retire and hand the name over to someone else. Is everything clear to you?

And that's how the game is played.

Resistance Is Futile

There are so many things going on right now that it's hard to focus on any given issue.  Of course, the US o' A is all over the news, barking orders and whatnot.  Certainly giving Putin plenty of room to show off.  The more I see of him, the more respect I have for him, though I wouldn't trust him with my wallet.

As for the whole Snowden thing, every single day just brings confirmation that we are being treated to a slight of hand.

For one thing, he says he smuggled all the docs out of the CIA (or NSA or whatever is was he was doing) on a thumb-drive.  Don't know if you've ever worked for a paranoid multi-national corporation, but if you stick a thumb-drive into any computer, it is automatically encrypted and will not work in any computer outside the company.  Even if the drive is formatted, the encryption remains.  Nope, don't buy it.

Now Snowden is being cast as Tom Hanks in The Terminal.  Yes, that's right, Ed is holed up in the transit area of the Moscow airport.  Can't leave, can't jump the next flight out.  He's in diplomatic limbo.  I suppose now he'll start building fountains or programming the Russian air traffic control grid or something.  I hope they've improved that airport.  When I was there 30 years ago, I didn't want to spend more time than I absolutely had to in there.  The least he could have done is flee to Singapore.  The airport there is like a 5-star hotel, it's right next door to Hong Kong and it has lots of cool places to hide out.

For that matter, he could have run to the transit area of the Ronald Reagan airport outside Washington D.C., and had all the benefits of being in diplomatic limbo there, as well.  So I don't buy that one either.

In fact, the whole story smacks of a movie plot in which the bad-guy whistleblower exposes the security grid allowing a bunch of cave dwellers from Afghanistan (or would it be Syria now) to blow up the Statue of Liberty (wouldn't that be poetic) and then the whole thing can be blamed on the Borg drone who developed self identity and didn't support the hive.  Moral of the story?  Get back in line, slave.  See what happens when you don't follow the rules?

All this talk of Fascism leads me to another funny story.  "Dengue Scare Sweeps Southeast Asia"  Hahahahahahahahaha!  Gag.  Gasp!  Coff!  That's one of the richest bits of fear-mongering I've heard since Alex Jones glommed onto the Ed Snowden story.

Now, if you didn't live in Southeast Asia, as I do, you might read this story and think that we are all dropping dead of dengue over here.  Well, I live right in the heart of SE Asia, in the largest and richest member nation of ASEAN, and I'm here to tell ya not one single person I know has mentioned the word 'dengue' in months.

The story focuses on Singapore, which if you don't know, is the most powerful Asian fascist nation, despite being nothing more than an insignificant island off the coast of Malaysia.  Like all fascist nations (read US/UK here), it thrives on its citizens living in fear.  After all, when good little slaves get scared, they always run to Uncle Sugar for protection from the mean, nasty world.

The fact is, I just spent the last five days with folks from all over SE Asia, and not one mentioned dengue fever.  The article says that June 15th was "Dengue Day" to raise awareness all over SE Asia about the virus.  That was news to me, as not one single media outlet in Indonesia said a single word about 'dengue awareness'.

Finally, dengue fever is a fact of life around these parts, just like earthquakes and volcanoes.  Everyone I know, except me (knock on wood) has had it at least once.  And there are many cures for it, which is why everyone runs to the hospital to get it - unless you are me and then you chew guava leaves and drink guava juice, which is what folks around here have been doing for centuries to prevent and cure dengue.

It helps if you spray for mosquitoes before going to bed, too - though I'm not sure which is worse...dengue or horfing insecticide.

I have certainly not heard about "war rooms" and "free cans of bug spray" and all the other fearful crap in this article.  It is true that this year's monsoon has been longer and wetter than most, but that is part of a cycle that goes around every five years or so, according to the locals, so even the bit about 'climate change' in the article is complete bullshit, though I admit that the extra rain has probably aided and abetted the mosquito breeding efforts.

These two stories are why I try not to expose myself to MainStreamMedia.  It is all bullshit and fear-mongoring.  It serves only one purpose, and that is to make people afraid and run to Uncle Sugar.  The conditioning evident in these two items is so obvious as to be laughable, except that so many people buy into it.

I've said it a thousand times before, but it bears repeating - TURN OFF THE F**KING TEEVEE!

The only thing it is good for is turning your higher reasoning center to mush.  And that goes for movies, too.  Doesn't anyone else see that all these superhero movies are to condition us to be passive victims and wait for Uncle Sugar (Superman, Batman, Spiderman, the Avengers, et al.) to come to our rescue?  Complete, utter, without exception, B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T.

If you have to watch a movie, go download David Cronenberg's Videodrome (1983).  That should put the proper conditioning in your head.

I have found over the years, after a long and glorious career producing propaganda, that the less media you consume, the better.  You'd be amazed at how little you miss.  The really important stories will get through, and the rest of it becomes nothing but noise after a while.  In fact, you'll start feeling like Kevin McCarthy in the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) we he learns the awful truth and sees his friends and neighbors in a completely different light.

As for the moment, you are Borg and you need to jack back into the Collective before you start thinking again.  Hurry!  Your programming needs updating or you'll turn into...GASP!...an individual!

One thing is absolutely certain.  If you are told to be afraid of something by the media, ignore it completely.  That is not what you should be afraid of.  The things you really need to worry about are the things they won't talk about, or even worse, the stuff they go out of their way to get you to ignore.  That's why I think the whole Snowden thing is a send-up, since they are casting so much light on it.

Make no mistake, the media work for the gummint, or more precisely, the corporate interests that own the gummint.

Like I always say, the reason they put so much effort into telling you cigarettes are bad is because the nicotine protects you from hypnotic suggestion.

So, get back to your puffing, slave!

Oh, and the petition to rescind Obama's Nobel "Peace" Prize?  Faithful reader Linda sent us the link.  Thanks Linda!

UPDATE: Linda popped up right on cue after I hit print with one possible reason that dengue is in the headlines: money!

If you really want a good laugh, Sanofi Dengue Building is the latest development here in our township. Sanofi has a large  pharaceutical plant here and when I read your story this morning I had to get this off to you.A whole new building especially for a cure for dengue.

Word War One

How important is language?

No, the title of this piece is not a typo.  Bear with me.

I recently read a paper by social anthropologist Mary Douglas, published in 1966, called, "Purity and Danger: An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo."  It is an absolutely fascinating study of the limits of human thinking and society based on language.  It got me to thinking.

For further context, the aware reader will want to absorb Margaret Wertheim's exceptional piece for Aeon Magazine called, "Physics's Pangolin."

Part of Douglas' thesis is that those things we can not classify in our language get ignored, possibly become taboo and even get relegated to religious objects and subjects.

It is an interesting idea, and certainly one worth exploring.  Having learned all or part of 17 languages, I have become acutely aware of how language and culture go hand-in-hand.  What is especially intriguing are the things which other languages can or can not express compared to English (my mother tongue).  One simple example is my ongoing battle with the gardener at the Far Side Global Headquarters.  In Indonesian, rumput can mean 'weed' and 'grass'.  As a result, he is hell-bent on destroying my lawn (such as it is) because the thing I call 'grass' is nothing more than a nuisance plant to him.  As a consequence, he can not comprehend why I get so hopping mad when he paves over my grass, nor when I jack-hammer it up and replace the grass.

It's a simple example, but a telling one.

German is a fascinating language.  It is classified as 'glutenous' by linguists because it has a limited base vocabulary that is recombined to make new words.  Its grammar leads to a certain amount of clarity and precision in thinking by its native speakers.  For instance, to create the concept of submarine, one need only join the words unter, wasser and boot to create 'under-water-boat'.  Very clear and concise meaning.

To get the same clarity and conciseness from English, you must have a good understanding of Latin, Greek, French, and of course, German (the base language of English).  Only then could you tease out the meaning sub (under), mare (sea), and the suffix -ine meaning "of or related to."  Nowhere in the dissection of the word submarine does one find the meaning "boat", so it is an imprecise word.

Of course, German does have its drawbacks.  One can end up with job titles like "Rhinefarhtsgesellschaftkapitan," but there is no ambiguity about "goes on the Rhine joined vessel captain."

As a consequence of its language, German society is clear and precise.  No one can argue that the country is spotlessly clean, or that the Germans are not precision-driven.  Just take a look at some of their biggest corporations, like Siemens or Zeiss.

On the other hand, English is perfectly adapted to being an international language.  It easily assimilates words and grammar from other languages.  Its syntax is flexible enough to allow a wide variety of dialects.  And English is very good at classifying and categorizing things, which is what Douglas says is the key to the language/culture connection.

It behooves us to expand our language as far as we can to push back the boundaries of fear and superstition.  That which we can categorize can not hurt us and can be dealt with clearly.  Reading and learning a new word every day will dispel darkness.  Learning new languages further expands those horizons and adds concepts not available in our native tongues.  Witness German words like gemuetlicheit or the Indonesian selamat.  You might also learn that the Thai greeting sawasdeekra is the root of swastika, and find old ghosts expelled in such a way.

How important is language?  Imagine someone without a name.  How would you call them?  How would you refer to them?  Recall when the singer (I won't use the word artist) Prince changed his name to a graphic with no sounds attached?  His career quickly tanked and he became irrelevant because no one could talk about him.  There was no hook on which to hang ideas.

In Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-four, people often gloss over one of the most important warnings of the book. The power and control of Big Brother was the manipulation of language.  Words were constantly being redefined or disappeared.  The Newspeak dictionary grew thinner with each edition.  People were incapable of having subversive thoughts because they no longer had names for them, and so feared and reviled those subjects which could not be articulated.

Words bring light to the darkness.

Look at old maps and notice that dire warnings and monsters populated those regions where no one had hung titles.  Look at modern cosmology.  Fear and quasi-religious trappings gird the unknown, such as the first second of time after the supposed Big Bang.  Even the term Big Bang conjures violence and destruction, thus fear, in the very act of creation.  How can we make sense of a Universe in which creation is a violently destructive act?  And what does that say about moral relativism when we can point to the moment of creation and say that good came from bad, so the ends justify the means?

Language is the most vital weapon we have against authoritarianism and fascism.  There is a reason why the ruling class always attack language.  The first casualty of war is truth, and truth is expressed with language.  Without it, we are helplessly ensnared by those who would dominate for personal gain.

They know it.  And so should we.

Look at our current situation.  All the scandals involving leaks and surveillance have one thing in common: the control of language.  Some future historian may well record this time as Word War One.  If the ruling class is so afraid of language, then we must use that fear to our advantage.

The Bible clearly states in the opening lines that all of Creation began with a Word.  If words are so powerful as to create Universes, then take heed!  It is axiomatic that knowledge is power, and knowledge is predicated on language.  Clear, concise and unsullied language is the key to creating the world in which we want to live.  Adam's first act was to name the world.

When we allow others to control the words by which we think, then we allow them to implant templates in our minds, outside of which we can not stray.  Word War One will not be fought with guns and swords, but with words and definitions.  Like they used to say in the 60s (and so readily forgot), question everything.

To that I would add: and guard your answers.

Stand By For Transmission...

I, for one, will not be watching the Olymic opening and closing ceremonies live.  I might possibly scan YouTube after the fact, once I know for sure what's going on.  And that's the crux of today's column: what's going on with the Olympics?

It's obvious to anyone who knows how all this crap works that the whole "terrorism" thing is nothing more than a massive PR stunt to get eyeballs through morbid curiosity.  They have been seeding headlines for the past year dropping the meme of Olympic death in order to maximize the planetary impact of something, possibly a message encoded in the ceremonial aspects of the games.

My bet is that the opening ceremony is the key.  They will really only this one best opportunity to slide some message into the most brains possible due to the massive media campaign leading up to it.  I suspect some overt or covert message has been carefully woven into the pomp and pageantry.  You are being mercilessly teased by the prospect of death and destruction to tune in and receive your programming.

There's no doubt these things work by having the most number of humans participating in a single event at the same moment.  This allows unprecedented access to the 'medium' of space-time.  The 9.11 mess was effective because the first plane got everyone to tune in, while the second and third planes were designed to 'shock' the medium and bring about a certain mass mind experience.  If you are aware in advance of the event, then you are in a position to use this harnessed power to whatever ends you chose.

In the case of the Olympics, there won't be a mass disaster.  They've so hyped the possibility that it would negate the raw emotion of shock.  Rather, they want as many folks to watch so that a message or meme can be implanted in the greatest number of minds in advance of some event.

As you, dear reader, may already suspect, I do have a theory about what that event may be.  And here's how I come about it.

The central concept behind the Olympic hype has been "terror", real or imagined is unimportant.  So, we scan the headlines for something having to do with "terror" in the same time frame as the Olympics and Lo!, we find "Seven minutes of terror" related to the landing of Curiosty rover on Mars.

The Mars landing has been hyped nearly as long and strong as the Olympic build-up, and both themes involve "terror".  It all dovetails much too neatly, and both are eyeball glue designed to get our global attention.  The fact that they are simultaneous is no mistake.  The London games and the rover landing have both been planned for a long time.  It is unthinkable that one group of planners wasn't aware of the other.

Much of the London headlines have focused on the missile batteries on rooftops around the city.  This is obviously to get us looking up, as it were.  And when we look up, we see Mars with the impending "seven minutes of terror" looming large in the heavens.

What seems pretty clear is that someone somewhere is about to announce the unambiguous knowledge of life on another planet.  My guess is that the concept of extraterrestrial life will be woven tightly into the Olympic opening ceremony.  This concept will infect as many minds as possible and soften us up to the idea of life elsewhere, whether in the solar system or beyond.

The announcement will likely come in the form of single-celled microbial life.  The Olympic logo includes the two little one-eyed bugs, which would imply a small, non-threatening lifeform.

On the other hand, the Curiosity rover is the first lander on Mars that actually has the capability to find extant life since the Viking landers in the 70s.  It has laboratories and microscopes on-board, which could give us unquestionable evidence.

That the word "mars" is synonymous with 'terror', and it's moons are called 'fear' and 'trembling', the symbolic links are so dense you need a machete to hack through them all.  After all, the precursor event was an act of 'terror' in a town called 'aurora' (dawn - of a new day), in a state called "colorado" (colored red), involving the image of bats (fear symbol).  Almost everywhere you look, there are subconscious markers being fed to us in the media that link terror, the color red, fear, the sky, and anticipation of something big coming.

My guess, and I'm probably off a bit here, but by the closing ceremony of the Olympics, the Mars rover will have found some clue as to the Big Announcement to come.  It may be overt, like landing splat in an algae-filled swamp, but more likely it will involve finding microbes in the soil after some poking and prodding around.  The clue most likely will involve surface water in the form of mud or a steam vent.  I doubt it will be immediate, since 'they' will want the message of the games to sink in a bit and work its way into our collective subconscious Mind.

By the way, did I mention that Mount Olympus is on Mars and all this will occur during the 'olympic' games?

It really is fun to look at all this, especially since it seems to be flying right over the heads of most people.  Even though we process information graphically, most people have been trained to disregard this part of our physiology, though it most clearly registers in the subconscious, where it seasons our mundane reasoning.  That's why 'they' use these tools.  It bypasses our conscious filters and goes straight to the underlying strata of our reality perception and how we interpret the world around us.

Back to my original statement, I won't be watching the ceremonies.  I don't want my view clouded by the programming.  Instead, I want to turn and watch the audience, to see how the message is received and what effect it has on the mass population.  Besides that, I get disgusted when I know someone is trying to program me.  It makes me really irritated for several days afterward.  I'll wait for the YouTube highlight reels, after I prepare my filters for what I am watching.

Indeed, the dark knight is rising.  A knight is a horseman and defender of the king.  King Harry will be presiding over the London games.  Meanwhile, on another planet, our 'curiosity' will be sparked by a 'rover', a rogue knight without allegiance.

It's all kind of exciting really.  It's like standing on the Great Plains of the US watching a dark line of clouds coming, bringing the storm.  You know what to expect.  You know about when it will get here.  Yet, the pageantry of it all still gets your heart pumping with anticipation.

Welcome to the Brave New World.  Why does it all sound so...Hunter S?