Monday, November 7, 2016


“He who knows how to go about it could live comfortably even in hell.” - Tibetan saying

"Well, this is it. You sure messed it up big, this time. Now everyone is going to know what you’ve done. This goes way, way past the cola deals, and the soda wars. This one goes beyond reality itself as we know it. 
You’ve got that black abyss, the Babylonian thing. You’ve got the GREAT GOD MOLECH.
And you’ve got the children.
That’s the worst part of if, by my measure. You’re eating up our very future, the future that you claim to be willing to help provide. And how again? Another donor, another small company that wants in on your global plan."

A commemorative wreath in the darkness of the edge of the highway caught my eye. Lit in the harsh illumination of my headlights, it looked stark and sad, pathetic even. Laid there by well-meaning family members to recognize the loss of their beloved, it made me think only of the inhuman moment of glass and steel impact, the grinding infernal death that led to the placement of the flower arrangement. That kind of instant tragedy, especially when suffered by the innocent, is the sort of thing that causes people to question the very nature of good and evil. The cliche question of why (if there was karma, or a God, or angels, or whatever benevolent force) “bad things happen to good people.”
Perhaps a deeper understanding of karma is necessary. In this way one is to ponder beyond the simple idea of one’s actions leading to some immediate positive or negative reinforcement in this life. In fact, a punishment-based concept of universal karma is infact simplistic and against the root laws of nature as can be observable.
We get what we deserve. There is nothing in our life that does not belong to us. The sooner that we accept this fact, the sooner life becomes tolerable. It is not through happiness that life becomes tolerable, it is through work. Happiness is simply one of the many positive by-products of work. When work is undertaken sincerely, and with conscientiousness, failure is not possible. As long as one continues learning, continues growing, there is potential for something greater to be achieved. Something worth living for.
When I was a boy, my mother and father told me that God was always watching me. The similarity between Santa Claus and the Christian God is not to be ignored. They said that at the time of the return of Christ to the Earth, it was believed that the dead will rise and be judged… the righteous will enter the kingdom of Heaven by his right hand, while the vast majority of the sinners are cast into the pit with Satan, the angel of rebellion. This judgement is echoed also in the Egyptian and Tibetan concepts of the afterlife. In the Egyptian pantheon, Anubis (the jackal-headed fellow) would weigh your heart against the feather of Ma’at (the Goddess of truth) to see if you carried with you the burden of impurity. If judged to be too tainted, the offending organ was tossed into the mouth of the nearest crocodile/hippopatomus hybrid that happened to be lying around, and then on to the next one.
Now, the Tibetan vision of death what came to follow was particularly complicated. Moreso than a system of reincarnation, they believe that a basic energy, a life force if you will, transfers from the body of a dying individual and is somewhat repurposed back into the environment, sometimes gradually leading to reincarnation and what-have-you. “All aggregates are impermanent.” That’s the credo. Everything waits its turn. 
Maybe it is an eternal fear of that same sense of judgement, and the accompanying obsession with failure, that permeates the scientifically atheistic carnival world of internet culture. Much like religion’s obsession with sin, the obsession with declaring failure seems to point out moreso the obsessed’s own personal shortcomings and fears, rather than the innate failure of the actions of another. We seek to erase our own fallibility while pointing out the perceived shortcomings and sadnesses in the lives of others. 
Failure is a popular topic on the internet. Hate the sinner, love the sin.


"The Agency is operating at full-force to cover up their tracks. Independent researchers have discovered new leads on long-running links between the Saudi Arabian government and U.S. politicians in many illicit operations. The most alarming of these is what appears to be a global human trafficking ring that has been reported about for some time now, but has been protected by a high level of propaganda and disinformation up to this point. It appears that high-ranking members of the Committee and the Foundation have been receiving bribes in exchange for a variety of favors that they have been providing to businessmen overseas with whom they have shared interests.
The Bureau is working slowly to uncover the many layers of this operation. The situation appears to be critical at this point. The Agency is hitting our people with everything they’ve got, mainstream media shills, internet trolling, all manner of psychological warfare, extremely low-frequency weapons, ion distruption, holographic imaging, drone strikes, all available options are on the table. So far this month alone we have lost more than ten agents to Agency assassins. 
There is obviously a sense of desperation among the elite, and mainstream media (MSM) reports have exploded with a Newspeak "fake news" narrative. Even the Pope has scrambled to decry those who publicize the truth about human trafficking and corruption, using foul language very unbecoming of the Holy See to defend a network of corruption and lies.
Expanding beyond the fake news narrative, The Agency is now strongly insinuating the presence of an unproven foreign influence on the 2016 American Presidential election. They are attempting create a false narrative in desperation to hold on the status quo that is crumbling all around them. We ask all agents to be vigilant and keep an awareness of infiltration from all sides. JAH Council will consult and aid as is possible in the following weeks and months."


“Happiness, (Freud) said, is an illusion, because suffering threatens inevitably...’” 
- from “The Function Of The Orgasm by Wilhelm Reich, English translation by Vincent Carfaglo, originally published by Orgone Institute Press, Inc. in 1942

Yeah, you caught me reading a book by this guy Wilhelm Reich called “The Function of the Orgasm.” I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not that kind of book. Reich was a scientist in the 1940s who invented some kind of technology that cured cancer or something and I guess he felt that human sexuality was somehow tied in with this kind of stuff? Something like that. Anyway, I don’t really know that much about it, and so that’s why I’m reading the book. Duh.
I’m trying to read more non-fiction in general really, all of my favorite books are like, kid’s books, and I don’t want to be some kind of weirdo.
Here is a line that kind of explains that I guess. It’s from one of my favorite books, “Alice’s Adventures Through the Looking Glass.” 

“‘The rule is, jam tomorrow and jam yesterday - but never jam today.’
 ‘It must come sometimes to “jam today,” Alice objected.
 ‘No, it can’t,’ said the Queen. ‘It’s jam every other day: today isn’t any other day, you know.’
 ‘’I don’t understand you,’ said Alice. ‘It’s dreadfully confusing.”
 - from “Through The Looking Glass” by Lewis Carroll.

Life is a series of things that we let happen to us.
Watching Nickelodeon again. I kind of like the shows, but it wasn’t such blatant pandering crap when I was a kid.
“Myra Breckinridge” is an American film from 1970 directed by a British man named Michael Sarne. It is possibly one of the worst-reviewed films of all time. Among other things, people who saw the film greatly opposed the usage of films from the classic era of Hollywood being juxtaposed with the narrative of a film largely themed around sodomy. Considered by Sarne at the time of its release to be parodic of the sexual liberation of the previous decade, as well as a commentary on a nation obsessed with the glamor emitted by the American film industry and the celebrity fascination that continues to this day.
The narrative of celebrity worship is analogous to the human fascination with the Gods and Royalty going back to the earliest human societies. In many ways, the film is far ahead of its time. It has a campy and irreverent attitude towards the sexual behaviour and downfall of celebrities that is somewhat akin to the satirical attitude of modern pundits such as Perez Hilton and TMZ, and certainly in line with the vision of contemporaries such as Kenneth Anger (especially via his book ‘Hollywood Babylon”) and John Waters (director of “Pink Flamingoes,” “Female Trouble,” and other such things). 
More importantly, the film is a depiction of the Gods being as fickle in their whims and desires as the lowly humans who worship them. The pivotal, defining sequence of the film is an anal rape committed upon an unsuspecting male mortal by an aroused and amoral transsexual Goddess in the form of Myra Breckinridge (played by the immortally deified sex symbol Racquel Welch). Her exaggerated and deeply fulfilling climax is accompanied by a ridiculous and comically-timed series of classic movie clips edited into the rhythms of Ms. Welch’s unnatural fornication. 

“Now that we have been in the ‘Secret Annexe” for over a year, you know something of our lives, but some of it is quite indescribable… I find it more and more difficult to imagine our liberation from here.” from “Anne Frank: The Diary Of A Young Girl,” published 1952 by Otto H. Frank; 1958 Simon & Schuster.

“...Second, ‘from the outside world, which can rage against us with overwhelming, unrelenting, destructive force…” - 
- from “The Function Of The Orgasm by Wilhelm Reich, English translation by Vincent Carfaglo, originally published by Orgone Institute Press, Inc. in 1942


“When Balthasar was eleven, his adored pet cat, Mitsou, ran away. He made forty ink drawings detailing his memories of the animal and his fruitless search for her. In the last, he stands alone, crying.”

The world at night is completely different from the one that exists in the daytime. The warm rays of the sun illuminate every corner and everything is laid bare to be seen. The darkness aids deception by feeding the hidden, allowing a conspiracy of fear to envelop the minds of those who are wracked with guilt regarding their activities during the daytime. The energy of the sun is a different form of energy from that of the moon… 
Solar power is the direct source, a pure life-giving wellspring. It’s power is extreme and brutal, to be too close to it is to risk death. Night is powered by the lunar source, a reflection and transmission of the direct source in a suffusion of power that is calming and intoxicating. Accompanying the lunar power is a low magnetic pull that is not immediately perceived, but is instead felt deeply on an intuitive level.

“ In those days I earned easy money in a tough line of work. I fell and fell. 'When will I reach the bottom?' I often ask myself these days.” - Bodil Jensen

“The third argument against the longing for human happiness was serious and remained unexplained. The suffering caused by one’s relations to other people, Freud said, is more painful than any other.”
- from “The Function Of The Orgasm by Wilhelm Reich, English translation by Vincent Carfaglo, originally published by Orgone Institute Press, Inc. in 1942

“When I was a child, I had an experience… I was maybe six or seven, and I was walking into a public bathroom by myself. I didn’t like to use the standing trough sort of urinal, I always walked to the stall for privacy. The door was open, and I turned the corner to go inside and there it was.
It wasn’t a person. But it looked like a person, sort of. It was a man, but I cannot bring myself to call it he. It’s it. It knows that it’s it, and it smiles horribly. It smiles because I am afraid, and it feeds on fear. I don’t know how I know this, but that’s what I’m thinking. He’s the big bad wolf, and he’s coming to eat me. In that moment, time seemed frozen.
The smell. There was a stench of evil, and a hiss. There were what I could only describe as marks of evil that appeared in a subliminal fog on the bathroom mirrors. Like algebra problems, a series of logic puzzles, unlocking a primal fear in my mind. The actual form that the being took was impossible… a human shape made up of moving tendrils of information, like a techno-organic mannequin, with a jagged face gnarled into an expression grotesquely caricaturing human joy. The tendrils came towards me, seemingly permeating from the beings every pore. My core self took hold of my senses, and I just ran for it. I closed the bathroom door behind me, and didn’t tell anyone what had happened.
It began to permeate my dreams, I knew that I had seen it before. Not in my own lifetime. And it wasn’t a vision of something that was to be. It's something that was and is. Something that destroys the future, something that eats dreams. Something that lives off of us.”


“There's nothing better in life than diamonds.”

Sarah watched as the thing began to take form. She thought to herself how odd the expression of an idea “taking shape” was, but here it was happening right before her eyes. A black form that was humanoid in shape, seemingly made of a shimmering liquid substance that acted as a barrier maintaining form. It was a reflection perhaps, but of what?
The liquid rose into the air, individual pieces crystalline and reflecting the light off of the covered lamps from the room, floating and approaching the floor before re-assembling. It was like she was in a three-dimensional television program, and bits of liquid static from an invading channel were manifesting into her reality. She couldn’t shake from her mind the idea of a mirror reflection… the anthropomorphic mass seemed to suggest to her, to tell her forcefully not with words but a deafening silence.

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