Saturday, April 19, 2014

Flashy Thing

For my millions of readers, I must apologize for my lengthy absence from the site. I have put up a couple vids recently to keep you all amused, but I have been traveling a lot recently and also writing and attending some classes. I haven't, however, given up this blog or its mission.
I have been working on the great amerikan novel. Soon to be on bookshelves world-wide and occupying
best seller lists everywhere. Maybe. But if not, I am amusing myself in the process of its creation, at any rate. But that's as may be. I wanted to catch up with the alternative blogoshphere and share some thoughts that don't have to do with the book over which I have been laboring.

I like movies. That is to say, that I like the 'idea' of movies.
I know, I have bored you with this subject before, but I feel that more needs to be said about the medium and how I feel that it is more important than we all think.
Now, you know me. I don't watch bad films. Or at least try not to.  Those ones with a producer/director/ or actor whose grandparents were holohoax survivors. That is to say that I vet my film watching activity to almost entirely Gentile endeavors. Which of course is getting harder and harder to find. If a movie is distributed or produced by a jewish owned company, I will continue past the credits because I understand that practically any films with popular distribution MUST have jewish fingers in them somewhere. If it is just distribution, well, I will forgive that for an hour or so as long as their is no editing power associated with such kosher money grabbing. If there is...well, it will show up in the finished product and I will pan it.

That being said, I had the misfortune to watch "Saving Mr. Banks" recently. I took on this judaic endeavor, merely because I have a serious crush on Emma Thompson. I have seen many of her films, of course, and will normally keep my finger on the volume to silence all but her lines. Like most British actors, she has done some serious manure in her career in the name of continuing to ply her craft. I have spoken about this peculiar English view of the dramatic arts before, and as frustrating as it is to see Shakespearean Brit thespians stoop to conquer, it seems that enduring sometimes horrible films is a necessary evil if one wishes to see them at all. Oh well.
Anyway, back to hollyweird lies on celluloid. I did not expect the film in question to be factual. As Ms. Thompson herself declared about the factual inaccuracies in the movie: "We aren't documentarians, we are entertainers".
That hit home with me. I know that it is a simple concept. Movies are movies. Not fact. Fiction is fiction and facts are facts. And documented facts cannot be entertaining. Can they? 
I have a deep-seated respect for Walt Disney. That doesn't make me popular among conspiracy nutjobs or the leftys that decry his sexism and alleged racism. Like the medium of film, again, I like the "idea" of Disney. I hated "Mary Poppins" when I first saw it. And watching clips of it now has done nothing to dispel that nauseating feeling that I associate with the overdone. Too long. Too much to distract from the narrative of the original book. Too much music. Too much dance. Too much flash. That says jewish to me. And of course it was. 

The history of the tussle between Walt and Pamela Goff, the book's author, could have been a real statement film. Told in fact. Told as it happened. For it wasn't a tussle between those two necessarily, but one between the authoress and the jews bent on making it a spectacle extraordinaire. But that wouldn't be entertaining. Or kosher. Or would it? We aren't allowed to decide this. The facts of the drama about Ms. Goff's relinquishing the film rights to her children's book are almost the exact opposite of what is portrayed in the subject film. But that is 'license' and when it comes to Western cinema, we all know who issues such warrants. The facts are that Ms. Goff tried her damnedest to preserve the magic of her tale in the face of jews that she literally hated, but eventually relented to... for much needed money. I won't fault her for that anymore than I will fault someone patronizing a jewish bank to buy a home. It's the only game in town. I also won't fault Walt for his desire to see such a charming tale brought to the screen. He was after all trying against all odds to preserve the magic of childhood for the entire world. That was his mission in life and he literally died trying to accomplish it. 
Fact and fiction have always been combined in the arts to produce an entertainment. An open and close package, whether it be books or plays, film, art, and I dare say music. We have been trained by literary license to suspend factual information for dramatic interpretation. Nothing new there. This technique has often been used to propagandize to be sure, but never as much as it is being so used currently. It is being used to rewrite every factual occurrence imaginable. When artists cling to the license they allow themselves now, they substantiate that freedom with visions of dramatic effect. As if life itself cannot be dramatic and it must be created and sold as what really happened. But for anyone that buys in to the horseshit that real life
drama(and after all, do script writers believe that they 'invented' drama?) cannot be faithfully reproduced with staggering impact on film, has never seen films such as "Breaker Morant"
 
This seems a simple criticism, to be sure. But what is lost in this process, you might well ask. Much, says I.
Most everything. Simple thespians may offhandedly state that its just a movie, or its just a book, but I don't think they realize that movies or book treatments or "docu-dramas", as they are wont to call them, are taken as fact, no matter any disclaimers, written or assumed. I know there was a man named Walt Disney. I know generally what he accomplished. So when you portray him on the silver screen as something other than what he actually DID do, with no factual reference to the contrary, I'm gonna believe what you tell me if it isn't too outlandish.The actors involved in such lies dismiss this fact. The movers and shakers that issue the license to misinform depend on it. But I digress.
I also re-watched "Men in Black" recently. The parallel of the "flashy thing"/neuralizer and the very film(and of course that flashy panel in your living room) slapped me in the face like three fingers of cheap scotch.
That is what I'm talking about. Every bit of decay in our time-saturated reality begins small. Insignificant. But by its very nature of  eventual destruction, continues until all is consumed. Unless abated. A small lie or two about a famous person's life to make their accomplishments fit neatly between the pages of a book or within the time span of a film can seem negligible until it serves an agenda other than entertainment or prepackaged dramatic effect.
So what am I saying here? There is right and there is wrong. This is this...it isn't something else. No matter how you or your tribal concerns want it to be. So whether it is fictitious license to parcel a biography that doesn't want to bog the audience down with the boredom of the everyday life of its subject...to blatant political lying as we see in such classic films as "Shindler's List". The process is dangerous and can be used to rewrite uncomfortable history for political gain. The process is the means to its end.

So the next time you are munching popcorn and enjoying a biographical 'treatment', think of the flashy thing
in front of you and understand the motivation behind the license it invokes to bring you a dramatic package to consume.
"...and go out and get a decorator...cause...damn".

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Portal And Crisis Cultism

More and more I am seeing reactionary 'crisis cultism' out here. Rather than taking real issues head-on, intelligent people are relying on some sort of divine retribution. And that's just fine and dandy for the tribe. They don't truck with Karma. They don't think for a moment that any magic is going to prevent them from bending you over for a buck. Those bastards. Ya know what? They are right. As the more and more the REAL "cult" predators rape the Gentile world...well, the law of averages dictates that a greater percentage of them will be caught in the act. But that doesn't stop them as a whole from demanding your sphincter. And it doesn't dissuade them. It does provide an element of danger and excitement for them, I suppose, as they fuck you and leave you for dead. Of course, such crimes, even if discovered, become little more than a blip on the radar screen that disappears on the next sweep of the needle. They see to that. And the blips, varying in size, keep on blipping. And no magic happens. There is no ghost-dance that will punish and disappear the evil-doers. Things just don't work like that. The sooner we resign ourselves to this fact, the sooner we can get down to some serious ass-kicking. Getting down to playing their game that doesn't contain any magic. Magic is fine in a theater. A tire-iron is much more effective in getting
your point across.

I know. I know. It is daunting to fight the monetary monster on his home court. The stands are filled with his fans and he has already paid off the officials. It would be nice to bring this Grendle to its knees with one bolt of righteous lightning from above...but it ain't gonna happen that way. This is a game we are going to have to grind out with muscle and blood. Of course by the very nature of the beast's playbook, he is going to expose himself to harm. And we are meant to use this to our advantage. But the key to this offense is us. Not metaphysics. Not waiting on or depending upon any help from an imagined balance of good versus evil that lives in the nether world, and that will intervene on our behalf. This kind of thinking is just what the monster wants from you. He knows to his very evil core that we have no such ally. We have us. And that is no bad thing. If we can put superstition behind us. There will be plenty of time to thank the 'almighty whatever', after we have won. I for one will be asking him where the hell he was in the second half when we could have used another player...but that's as may be.
Buddhists, in their admirable meekness had their asses kicked out of their homeland, and Buddha didn't seem to care. He didn't intervene with his Karma. As a matter of fact, imperial governments throughout history have been fully aware that the thing that stops them in their hegemony is not divine. It isn't an invisible force from above. It is a the very real force of the human body being stopped short by the force of gravity at the end of
a rope.
I just finished playing both "Portal" video games. I know...what is the timster doing playing games in times like these? Well, I have always been attracted to puzzles. Games that require critical thinking to solve. They sharpen one's thinking skills. And hell, they are fun, dammit. 
Anyway these types of puzzle games teach a very real-world lesson, thinks I. Evil can be overcome in the real world. With EFFORT. Not resignation. You can't win if you resign your game to some unseen balance. You will fall into the pit that the beast wants you in. I'm not talking about point-and-shoot vid games. Yawn. I want to use my brain(what little there is). It provides endless joy to outwit, and there have been few times in history as much as the present, that this skill is required of us all. Instead of on our knees, we should be at the drawing board. Nothing positive happens in these games, as well as real life, unless and until you make it happen with your brain. I like that. And so should you. You have a brain. Use it instead of cowering in the corner with your 'faith' that the bad guy will get his. That smacks of resignation. If metaphysical enthusiasts can cite an instance in history, in which divine intervention won the day for those seeking justice, I'll eat this essay and the computer with which I type it.

The beast, whether she is named Gladios or or Israhell, does not play by the rules of imagined playing-field levelers in the sky. These beasts know better. Therefore they have the advantage on the kind hearts and meek outlook of the religious masses. They cheat. They know that right isn't might. They have learned the reverse to be true.
We are indeed at yet another time of 'crisis'. A time when those in power of most all governments of the world act without the mandate of their countryman. This is not a time to cower in the pews, or rely upon the faith that serves one in better times. This is a time to salute the JPTB the only way they understand.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

A Little Tribute And Advert

Kudos to Greta Berlin for her designer T-shirt. And to Jane Jewell for selling them!

I got mine. Write here to get yours: 14friendsofpalestine@gmail.com

Get yours now and wear it with pride!

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Suspect

As an adjective. The title of this little piece is meant to convey that the other things covered in alternative media, along with those juicy revelations that we all want to read about, may serve a bigger purpose. You know, those stories that expose our most profound suspicions. "Jew banker caught in money-laundering, kiddie-porn, slash-and-burn antics pleads guilty to lesser charge of chewing gum in class and receives two weeks probation from yiddish judge." Well, the real journalists are here to give you the facts in the case and you can say "I told you so". And you keep on reading. And you keep on watching. And although the rest of the day's news is not quite so hard-hitting...well, you take it all in anyway because they just gave you what you wanted. But what of those other stories? Well, they are not so believable. And maybe...just maybe...they aren't quite the 'truth' you came for in the first place. Maybe half truths. But as we all know, half is better than nothing. Right? Or is it?

I don't know about you, but when someone deliberately lies to me about something important, they don't get two more strikes. Noam Chomp-sky may prescribe just what this country needs when he describes D.C. as a "...chicken-shit town that should be burned to the ground", but the rest of his message, is nothing more or less than talmudic controlled opposition. But he is out there for the liberal left to follow. Not us.
As you know, very few talking heads out here get it all right. But if they don't, should we even listen to anything they have to say? When they deviate from what we understand as fact, should we buy the whole package, when most are half-truths? Good question. If I agreed 100% with an alternative journalist...well, they would be me. No one agrees with anyone else completely on everything. But the important issues...ah, there's the rub.

So, if I am told by some truth-seeker that he/she has uncovered a plot that explains why the hell we are unhappy as a species, well it gives me pause. You know me. As a rule, I will not listen to any jew explain anything to me...with very few exceptions. I have this rule, because the very nature of that religion is half-truths. And if a member of that tribe has gotten his words or countenance out there, well their message is already suspect. No matter what the content. So I deal with the suspicion. 
Some out here vilify Gilad Atzmon. I can understand that. He is not only jewish, but was raised in that terrorist camp in Palestine. He was a member of the IDF. He understands the bestial behaviour of judaism more than most. He says he is no longer a 'jew'. And yet he cannot bring himself to completely disavow that gutter religion. He fights for Palestinian rights. He points out the political identity of jews. He points out the half-truths and hypocritical nature of 'jews-only' organizations purportedly standing up for Palestine. But you will never hear the candor of a Helen Thomas telling the jews to "get the hell out of Palestine" coming from him. You will never hear him call for the complete dismantling of that Satan-state. You will never hear him advocate for the abolition of that tribe. He will relate all that his 'former' tribe members have done in the name of that disgusting dynasty, and yet that is where he stops. But to me, this is the fine line between what an activist says, does, and doesn't do.
Although he doesn't advocate my solution to the 'jewish question', he does not advocate against it. And he is a valuable asset for having been part of that zionist tribe and is now calling them out. And I have yet to hear a half-truth from him. And until I do, I will not refrain from listening to him. If for nothing else, watching him grapple with his conscience about the obvious conclusions of his stance on the 'jewish question'. He calls for all jews to 'apologize' to the Gentile world for their transgressions, and some rightfully question the severity of his indictment. But to me, he is the perfect microcosm of what every cultural jew must endure and come to terms with. That their religion has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. For anyone. Not them. And certainly not the rest of the world. It is not subject to the tolerance and polite inclusiveness that other religions enjoy. For it brings nothing positive to the table. Nothing. 
But that's as may be.
We were talking about suspicion. And fine lines. There is a very fine line between something/someone that is suspect and paranoia. But I see my no-jew rule as more a precaution. Generally speaking, I don't place my thumb under a swinging hammer. But there may come a time when such an action may have its advantages. I can't think of any at the moment, but I'll get back to you on that. Hammers are suspect in my book. As are jewish talking heads. I have been on the receiving end of both, and I don't really care for it.

So, when Abby Martin presents a brilliant piece explaining the benefits of bitcoin, and her next guest is some jewess going on and on about abortion 'rights'....well, take heed. If George Galloway seems to be championing every cause about which you feel passionate, and in the next breath is glorifying Karl Marx...well, don't say I didn't tell you so.
Don't be paranoid. Be suspicious.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Blackbirds and Suckerness

It's been a while since I have written you good folks. But I have been
observing. It is like watching those little whirlwinds that scatter
the leaves in a courtyard. First here...then there. Throwing themselves around with no particular pattern and accomplishing little. But still there is movement in this concrete rest-stop in the center of capitalism central.

I listen to people defending and condemning Snowden/Greenwald.
I see rabbis wallowing in hatred like pigs in shit. I listen to lefties and righties. And I watch whirlwinds spin like the tempest in a teapot. Had I gotten from age twelve to my current age without all this observation...I doubt that much would have changed. But I watch all this activity nonetheless and at times chime in with my take. It doesn't dispel these little winds;my assessments. But it keeps me sane.
So here's a few more chimes. 
In my experience, all leaks are planned. Yes, including your
precious Ed and Julian. What would be the purpose of these disclosures for those that would leak them, you might well ask. Well, let's think about that for a moment. What has transpired in our society because of these 'whistle-blower's' actions? All of a sudden we are aware(as if we smart ones weren't already) that our super-power government spies on all of us. Brrrrrrr..... Scary.
Those mean old government guys. But what are you going to do about it? Besides watching your P's and Q's a bit more carefully? We now know for a fact, thanks to these brave souls, that big brother really IS watching us. Uh-huh. Well, that's out in the open now. It's on the table. It exists. Few if any doubt it nowadays.
I am reminded of the scene from Dr. Strangelove, in which the good Doctor chides the Russian ambassador concerning the Doomsday machine by saying, " The whole point of the doomsday machine is lost if you keep it a secret.Why didn't you tell the world, hey?"
You see, it is the fear that is the point, dears. Not the spying. But I'm sure at least my readers understand this salient point. The point that the credibility of such a revelation becomes unquestionable when it is a 'secret' leaked by noble men. While the less 'noble' among us keep on sucking. Anything that is dangled in front of us. The shinier the better.
Ya see, fear is profitable. No matter where it comes from or whether it is warranted, it produces profitable things in our big brains. It makes them littler. And very quickly. It is the great reducer. It makes us all act in predictable patterns. Fight or flight. Resist or comply. So when gay-jewish Glen Greenwald tells you that his buddy has millions of secrets and he's going to sell you a few...well, we all like secrets. Fearful secrets. We just can't resist. So no matter how effective government spying is, it's power is the fear it instills. And that power cannot be utilized unless it is known. So, thanks to fearless whistle-blowers, we all now know to fear our government. Uh-huh. Sweetheart, the real whistle-blowers get gagged or gagged. The shiny ones are on your evening news.


Oh, they will make concessions to their eavesdropping, but that isn't the final point...as you well know. It's win-win for the JPTB now. The lefties are screaming foul...the righties want more. 
And the more observant among us question the whole thing. It's all such fun. And it gets us out
in the open air. Keeps our blood pressure up.
But that's as may be.
So if our big brains are getting smaller, what then? Well, the medium is the message. And that's all folks. That IS the only message. Drive it home. Keep pounding away. Fear. Fear. Fear. Keep driving it. And although few if any are making these obvious conclusions of mine. I don't mind. Maybe I will be targeted for understanding the game-plan. For not getting caught up in the whirlwind even a little.
But I doubt it. I won't be quoted. It won't be commented upon. The world will little note, nor long remember(so to speak),what I write on the back of this envelope. No matter.
If nothing else, I can state unequivocally, that I am not a sucker.
My suckerness is and always has been at a minimum. But I am surprised I don't find this reckoning more prevalent. Although I don't offer metaphysical alternatives to suckerness, it amazes me how many blackbirds we have out here.

 

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Intelligence

I'm an intelligent guy. Or so I have been told by reliable sources.
That is not meant to be boasting. More of a declaration of disability. Like those little cards that say "I'm hearing-impaired. Speaking louder and slower won't help me to hear you. I read lips." My disability got me here. A long strange trip. I think I'll have some cards printed up..."I'm intelligent. My education has hampered my ability to enjoy life" Or some such.

When I was younger and going to school, I got a job as a Q.C. inspector. I walked in off the street, did an interview and was hired and trained to inspect the company's product. An okay job. I wasn't the best of the inspectors, but I was white, and I was going to college. Along with me, there were many in my department that needed and had worked their way up to the position of inspector and its slightly elevated pay and benefits. Nice folks, on the whole. Dedicated to and proficient in their vocation. 

A new manager took over the department, and as new managers are wont to do, she intended to make changes. She immediately instituted a series of tests designed to weed-out the less 'intelligent' of her inspectors. One look at these standardized tests told me that they were discriminatory and unnecessary in our department. I had overheard a supervisor gossiping about how great it would be to get rid of the Mexicans in the Q.C. department and also that my results on the coming test would be held as the top of the curve for grading, as I would no doubt ace the exam. Of course, I wasn't supposed to know this. I was supposed to demonstrate my superior intellect and education to set a standard by which all others would fail and be demoted or fired. And they would have; had I not heard the gossip. So I endeavored to deliberately fail. Answers to these academic questions inexplicably evaded my grasp as they did most of those that were tested. I failed miserably. Worst of the lot. The others held on to their positions and I was fired for my insolence after admitting that I had given the wrong answers to try and save the jobs of others. So much for intelligence. Oh, well.

Intelligence is overrated. Grossly. The greatest minds of our time, will readily admit this obvious fact. With out any doubt, it has gotten us into more trouble than done us any good. Our brains have merely evolved too much. Every basic drive with which we are saddled from the days of our caveman era remain intact. And instead of just gathering food for seasonal inclement weather, we hoard out of greediness and laziness. Instead of protecting our families and what we have labored for, we covet and steal from others. We do all this with all the incredible sophistication that our huge brains allow. And yet the end results are the same, just on a grander scale. Segmented societies. Class rule. Hunger, injustice, war and suffering for most. Luxury for a few. A larger brain has not overcome the real stumbling blocks in our evolution as a species. It has made them worse. You might point to the emergence of science as an advancement, but I say 'not so, bucko'. We have conquered some diseases, only to give rise to others. Most of science is dedicated to facilitating creature comforts that further dissipate our physical form, designed for battle with gravity, which gives rise to more ailments. Cancer, Carpel tunnel, obesity, pulmonary ailments are among the many of our man-made diseases that have come to us in our battle against our bodies in pursuit of happiness. When truly, the happiest people that I have ever met are also the stupidest. Life is not a complicated mess for them as it is for me. It is straightforward. They may contemplate the evening sky and its mysteries in their simple way. But they have as many useful answers about them as the most sophisticated astrophysicists. They don't understand the purpose of the universe and our place in it; neither do their intelligent counterparts. So how far have our large craniums brought us? 

I read an essay recently that purported that the jewish among us are indeed more intelligent as a culture than their Gentile counterparts. It referenced this revelation with many rather questionable conclusions, but let's say that it is true. For argument's sake, let us say that through genetic engineering governed by jewish breeding exclusivity, the jew has attained a culturally superior brain. As I look around me, I cannot state that it has gotten these tribe members anything worth having. And assuming that this alleged intelligence has foisted leadership positions upon the ashkanazi descendent over the Gentile(and they have not merely stolen the reigns of power), the world must be in state of higher evolution because of such influence. I ain't seeing that either. But you can't take my assessment into account. I wish I was much stupider than I am. I wouldn't recognize the benefits of intelligence if my butler brought it to me on a silver platter. From my perspective, these jewish elite indulge in some pretty nasty caveman-type endeavors exclusively. Sex, gluttony, laziness and power-mongering. I don't see their culture rising above war and bullying to attain these mediocre things. 
But of course, this isn't true at all. The jewish are merely humans with brains exactly like Gentiles. With all the downfalls that come with such useless excess gray matter. And more. Because they believe that they are intellectually superior, it adds an equally useless helping of hubris about such supposed intelligence. And we have Hollyweird. And we have israhell. And we have central banking cartels. And on and on. All those things that they direct...and all those things that we could all do without. Funny that.
So having to come to the conclusion long ago that my brain has always gotten me into deep do-do, I have begun to assess happiness quite differently. I have grown shy of 'intelligent' people that haven't, like me, come full circle in their understanding that the only beauty in life is in its simplicity. A conclusion which most of the intelligent among us may never reach. I pity them. Sort of.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

On The Canvas...

I read a lot out here. I watch a lot of videos out here. I gather in a lot of other people's opinions in this electronic nether-world. All or most of this information has to do with humans struggling with themselves. And of course, this information comes from those affluent enough to have a roof over their heads and an internet connection. That kind of wealth is nothing to sneeze at, considering that most people in the world do not have such luxuries. So all of these opinions are being expressed by the 'haves' in proxy of the 'have-nots'. I got a problem with that. As much of a problem as I have with the uber-rich speaking in my stead.
I remember during the Falklands war(?) in 1982, talking to a British woman about the conflict with Argentina and her native land. She summed it up by saying "Oh, we Brits love a good scrap".
That impressed me. A very profound statement, thinks I. For the PTB or the PTW(were), there is always fertile ground for war mongering. I don't think I would say that it is in our DNA to desire conflict with our fellow humans, but we certainly are susceptible to propaganda aimed at stirring up mayhem for the benefit of the banking industry. And of course that is behind all war, no matter how you paint it. That's as may be.
Back to struggle. Life itself is such. Or should be, if it's done right, I feel.

It happens. And it enriches our experience on earth. It defines us.
A good scrap against the odds makes our accomplishments all the more worthwhile. But lately, this barney that we are involved in has most of us either on the ropes or on the canvas. Most of the middle-class people I know are being beaten to the hemp, and although aware that they are allowed to hit back, nonetheless seem to prefer to do the rope-a-dope thing in defense. Half protecting their faces and taking a pummeling in lieu of the knockout punch that would send them to see Jesus. At least they aren't being counted out on the floor, they seem to feel.
I like to draw analogies about boxing. Since I was a kid, I have always been mesmerized by two guys battling it out in a ring. I have always seen pugilism as a microcosm of life itself. It is not necessarily the competition with others that intrigues me...it is the  beat-or-be-beaten rawness of such battles that fascinates. True human will put to good use. The having to put all you are on the line, or suffer horrible defeat. When two boxers are well matched, it speaks to something primal in me that wants the opponent with the most resolve to remain on his feet. I guess,whether you can enjoy two such thugs beating hell out of each other or not...it is the battle with which most can identify. The "Rocky" narrative. We all like to see ourselves somehow in those that can battle odds and a faceless opponent to prove our worth. Some take this too far. Those that know they have no such battles in life.
I had a great giggle the other day when I ran across an ad for the latest treatment of Thurber's "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty" when I saw who jewy-wood had selected this time around to play the meek protagonist. Of course...a fellow jew. Again. 
Now, another couple generations of Gentiles will view Mitty as yet another khazarian victim. Sigh. Like Danny Kaye a few generations ago, Ben Stiller embodies how the kosher film producers mistakenly(or not)perceive the milquetoast dreamer as a down-trodden-type jewish persona. They love that shit. It is part and parcel to their mythology. From Superman to Mitty, they must always understand themselves to be the meek overcoming the strong. Probably because, at least in this age of the jewish being at the top of the heap, they have nothing left to validate their inflated accomplishments. Of course I speak of those jews in positions of media power that embody "jewish identity politics". For identity is what this is all about, after all.
I received a review recently on amazon concerning my book. I quote:

"Initially drawn in by what seemed to be a bold attempt to tackle a forbidden topic, I found it wanting. The writing is a banal, stream of consciousness that includes periodic outbursts of gratuitous profanity. Anyone could find this sort of rant online; it should never have been bound together in book form."
 
Now, I can't say that I disagree with that review completely. I guess some could see my writing as 'banal'. Definitely stream of consciousness. Of course you CAN find my sort of rants online. After all, they are from here and this is online. It is debatable whether they should or should not be bound in book form. I've read worse books. But of course the reviewer is entitled to that conclusion. But what the fuck is he talking about "outbursts of gratuitous profanity"? I don't remember any of that shit in my tome. There is no pleasing some people. But I will wholeheartedly agree that I found it wanting as well. I find most about me wanting.
It all comes back to struggle, I guess. My struggle against a pretty nasty tribe by publishing my thoughts about them. Trying to be on the right side of history. I don't call for every ashkanazi to be swinging from a lamppost. Perhaps that is what the reviewer was looking for. Who knows.
 
But in this season of forgiveness, I applaud the reviewer's opinion. At least he put it forth. I will leave it to my millions of fans to rebut his estimation.


Saturday, December 7, 2013

Purpose

There have been memes established out here. Hell, the word 'meme' is one of them. A makey-up term to define mindset, paradigm, popular thought, coolness, hipness...
Pick your era, and there is a word to depict what is believed and acted upon in that 'now'. From politics to music, what is going on at the moment has always been around. But meme is the current buzz-word.
In the 'alternative' side of the internet;citizen journalism, citizen
editorializing, citizen social networking - what have you - there are camps of discontent. Many. They all have a diagnosis.They all have a prognosis. They all hawk their particular brand of snake-oil, but with basically the same ingredients. So if you adhere to the attitude of this wave of common-man reportage and editorial, you must first have decided that we as a species are ill. It is just a matter of homeopathic or allopathic. Quick cure with pills, or 'natural' cure without. Kind of a 'storm the castle' or 'chant in the street' thing. Once you have diagnosed the symptoms of an ill society in your own mind, the next step(assuming that you believe that you are also somehow infected) is to induce the cure. Big body to cure. It will take a lot of practitioners. Lots of pills or herbs, no matter which approach you want to support. Do we cut out the infected tissue, or try to stimulate the body's own natural defenses? Or do they need stimulation? All good questions that have plagued the revolutionary brain since man crawled down from the trees.
I asked my better half the other day, "Do you ever get the feeling that you don't belong in this era?". I was serious. I wasn't referring to the feeling that all aging people get when they find it increasingly difficult to keep up with the times. It is the puzzling feeling that I get more often lately that there are no times up, with which to keep.

A college freshman and her mother were hanging curtains in her new dorm room, when the girl's new roommate entered.
"Hi, I'm from Dallas. Where y'all from?"
The girl and her mother exchanged haughty glances and she said "I'm from a place that doesn't end sentences with a preposition".
The girl from Dallas said "Well then, where y'all from, Bitch?"


 I couldn't tell Kim Kardashian from Jennifer Lopez from Miley Cyrus if my very life depended upon such distinction. I mean, I know that in itself is not a federal offense but it is 'their' camp not ours, that revels in current celebrity. Those of a dull mentality, generally speaking. I suppose. Maybe those striving to stay in the now just take from the table the only things offered. 
But that's as may be.
I wanted to talk about purpose. Purpose out here. Purpose at this particular stop.
I remember a high school math teacher telling us that it was VERY important to be able to do long division and all other math functions that every school kid hates. And not to depend on calculators to do these things for us. Well, I disagreed mildly. On one hand I could see what she was implying: If you don't understand the mechanics of the function you will also lose the ability to understand the need for it. But my reply was: "Do you foresee a time when all calculators will disappear and we will have to get out a pencil?"
Many out here will decry the fact that modern man could not exist in this world without his technology. That Mrs. Normal has no idea how to prepare a meal from the raw ingredients that Mr. Normal couldn't provide her if his life depended on it. That is a doomsday scenario that we almost all agree is just around the corner. Those Wal-Mart zombies that we all love to tsk-tsk, would be left helpless in a world without the conveniences that they so depend upon. I dunno. I don't think I buy that.
I watched a video of a speaker the other day(that sounds amazingly like Richard Dreyfuss). He has written a book that explains that our amerikan culture and all the sociological freedoms that it enjoys have hookers, drunks and shiftless slaves to thank. It is a fascinating ride to take with his historical revelations. And he dispels a few myths that we all hold. I think he has come to the wrong conclusions over his research, but it is eye-opening nonetheless. Pretty slick. Of course my readers, I think, will also question his conclusions, and his motives. In the speech and his book, the author claims that, among other points, no one should want to work for anyone else if he doesn't feel the purpose or reward of such labor. That this is the common sense demonstrated by amerikan slaves that were deemed 'shiftless'. And that they introduced the notion of worker's rights and even vacations. With all this, I concur. And his references are impeccable. Then he goes on to hold that late 19th century whores and their madams are the forerunners of current feminism, in that they were the first successful, liberated women in our country's history. Again, I agree. He also stated that it is his view that whatever the period in our culture, the next big thing will always be determined by degradation of what national morality is left. That is, if it is deemed immoral by the 'establishment', it will become popular and accepted at some point by all.
Well, I can't disagree with this either. But he implies somehow that this is a good thing. Or will eventually pan out to be a good thing. Now, he constantly declares that he is not a nihilist and is merely observing history as it plays out in fact...but I get the feeling that these things he covers leave him with some sort of hope for our future. With that I will vehemently argue, although I think his opinion is held by many, whether they distinguish it so eloquently or not. That somehow, merely questioning a common set of common-sense rules held by the majority, destroys the validity of these rules. Sometimes this is true. Sometimes not. To question the ethic held all the way up to the early twentieth century that men should never be in the company of others without some sort of coat covering his arms should have been questioned, and was. It fell by the wayside as a more common-sense fashion emerged that freed men from such discomfort. 

That's all well and good. But, unlike the author, I tend to want to look to exactly where all this social change is headed. I mean, it must have a purpose. An end point. A conclusion. Somewhere we all enjoy all the personal freedom that we want...and yet do not encroach on anyone else and their pursuit of 'purpose'. 
Well, I don't think that magic balance exists. Or if it does, it will be a pretty delicate one.
But back to that purpose. We all strive to see it. In our lives, and in life itself. The latter, in my opinion, gives rise to all manner of hocus-pocus worship and metaphysical speculation, due to the lack of real, factual and tangible answers. Well, that's okay too. For some. The evening that my Mother died, a neighbor of hers, a rather simple man, came to offer his condolences. After having told me that he was sorry to hear of her death, he was almost speechless to follow up such an attempt at comfort except to say, "Well, these things happen". As clumsy and almost offensive as this remark may sound to you, I concur with his simple, pragmatic conclusion. That's all you can really say about death. It happens. He too died within a year of that night, and I couldn't help but replay his sentiment in my mind as I thought of his passing.
But anywho. I know. I have been writing fewer and fewer dedicated  screeds on the tribe lately. I have long since declared that as my 'purpose' here, and I seem to be remiss in my self-appointed duty. I have typed hundreds of thousands of words over the years on the subject, and maybe it has done some good...maybe not. I know that it has gotten easier to prove my point. Like the comic that prays for the most apparent asshole to be elected to office, merely to provide him with juicy material...it's almost too easy now. Too easy to constantly point out the misdeeds of a cult that more and more identify their own evil and become isolated in their hatred. You can do it yourself  in the comfort of your homes now. I like to think this is partly because of people that have broken the taboo of speaking against them here on the info highway. But I know it is much more due to their overplaying their hand, which by the nature of evil, was bound to happen. It is child's play to see their purpose.
It is not so simple to see mine lately, I guess. I will define it for you as best I can. When the mood strikes me. And I feel that purpose.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Saturday, November 23, 2013

Sucker Punched In Mythland

You can place a modicum of confidence in those expressing views that align with yours. But you have to let it go at that. Take a little here, take a little there. But don't take it all. From anyone.

I watched a streaming lecture from travel-guru Rick Steves the other night. Besides having followed his insightful advice before in some of my travels, I had been entranced by his 2009 sojourn to Iran, and its ground-breaking propaganda-busting quality, in the face of the mainstream Muslim-bashing that was demonizing the entire Iranian nation as evil. I thought that took a lot of balls. I mean, telling us that "it probably isn't a good idea to bomb these people". He gained quite a bit of respect from me to have changed so many minds about the humanity of Iran's populace, and it probably accomplished much more than he realized at the time. Maybe more than he intended. That was then.

 
So when I received notice that he had just returned from Middle-East with plans to do a 3-part doc on the Levant, and besides israhell, also actually NAMED Palestine as a destination, I was excited to see his myth-destroying acumen at work again in a place that is dear to my heart. Well, life is full of disappointments. And it seems that most everyone has a price. Apparently Rick has his.
The streaming lecture was a teaser for his new series on the Holy Land. And although he spent a goodly part of the talk covering  the humanity of Palestinians...in the West Bank and Gaza...when it came to assessing the horror they face daily, he began parroting every lie we have all heard too much. Penned, it seems from the Beast itself. From "Arabs and jews have always been at each other's throats", to "holocaust survivors came and built shining cities in the sand", it was the same-old-same-old hasbara propaganda that we all know word-for-word. You know the drill. There was little if any political truth in his lecture, as I am sure there will not be in the series when it hits the airwaves next spring. *sigh*

Such a wasted opportunity. But after all, he is merely a travel guide; not a martyr. My confidence(not trust) was misplaced yet again. Oh well. I was sucker-punched. No biggie. I've had worse. They don't hurt, really. They just kind of disorient you for a short while. Then you get your bearings back and keep fighting.

In the title up there somewhere, I mentioned mythland. That would be right here. The trenches from which I write all this crap. The land of the free and the home of the brave. Terrorism Central. It's easy to get sucker-smacked here. We are bred for it. Few of us even feel it anymore. As this astute article points out, its just a matter of course now. "You are going to feel a little pressure on your jaw". 
"Why, that didn't hurt at all!" we say, with glassy eyes and almost constant disorientation now.

I guess what gets my goat more than the ignorance for profit that rules supreme here now, is how rampant it is among even those that profess being 'enlightened'. The patriots. The constitutionalists. Those that wish to restore our once-great nation to...I dunno...some mythic past for which none of them can provide evidence of ever having really existed. According to those wanting to 'save amerika', this glorious period in our history to which we should all want to return was sometime after the Declaration of Independence was signed, and yet before we began committing horrific genocide and theft from the indigenous humans living here. Or was it before Aron Lopez  and his tribe started shipping Africans into slavery here. Or sometime after our great Civil War(and under the guise of abolishing such wholesale human trafficking, we guaranteed that no state could secede from our federal bloody policies). Or was it that time when the robber-barons began destroying our ecology by industrializing an otherwise pristine continent? Was it before or after the two world wars we eagerly participated in...slaughtering over 70 millions?  I'm confused momentarily on the exact period in our history to which we need to return. But I'm sure they have a big myth planted in their little brains. Ever notice that they are all Caucasians? These patriots that long for saving 'our' heritage.

I dunno. I guess I am of the opinion that this country was NEVER anything but an empire-building terrorist entity, manufacturing consent to be the latest to rape and pillage the rest of the world. Never. Not in your white-only suburban childhood memories. Not in your bullshit-history books. Not in your yiddish hollywood treatments. Never. Didn't happen. No freedom. No bravery. No integrity. No mercy. Zip. So rejoice. There is no destruction of a once-great nation. You cannot destroy that which never existed.
But if you DO possess some of the above-mentioned un-amerikan  qualities, I would suggest you follow the teacher's advice and get the hell out while you still can, before you are blamed personally for all that is to come. 
If not...well...
At least you have learned to take a punch now. That will come in handy.

"Belief in myth allows the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought" - John Fitzgerald Kennedy

Thursday, November 21, 2013

The End Of The World...Again

Reprint:

I don't deify leaders. Never have. I figure they have enough admirers without adding my critical adoration to the mix.

However.

I met Jack Kennedy. When I was a little kid at school, we were out for recess on our asphalt playground on a chilly autumn afternoon playing a game of "scrub baseball". A block-long black limo pulled up and a man in a suit got out. No cameras. No reporters. An unscheduled stop. Our teacher called us all over to the iron fence and this handsome young man shook our hands and poked and teased us and asked who was up next. When he saw my friend with the bat he said "keep your eye on the ball". That in itself was nothing. Our fathers told us that all the time. It is amazing though, what that little piece of advice can do for a kid's swing. If a child is really listening to the coaching...he can clear his little mind of all other distractions and smack that ball as easily as slapping apples from a tree. Focus...that's the thing.
He waved goodbye while telling us to make sure that our parents went and voted for him in a few weeks. I was too young to know what that meant. I don't know why he stopped and kidded with us. Maybe he just liked kids and he had some time to spare between whistle stops. Anyway, it was in all the papers.
Like Bill Clinton often said about meeting Kennedy at a young age...it made a huge impression on me. But obviously the impression left on me, was of a different bent. It was more and more important to me, as I grew...and of course he and "Camelot" died.

Not long after that, the world ended. I was about ten I think. The young man that had poked and kidded us was making an announcement on our television that clearly frightened my parents. This then frightened their children. This was about the Cuban missile crisis. I understand a bit more now of what was actually going on behind the scenes when that message was delivered to us. But it was unprecedented in my lifetime till then. It was the first time most had ever heard official warning to a populace of an impending nuclear exchange.
Well, the jewish took care of Jack for Dimona, refusal to sell israhell f-16's, attempting to abolish their federal reserve scam, Northwoods and a slew of other ashkanazi reasons. But that was then. To me at the time...when they had him killed...the world ended again in a way. Some innocence was lost and I stepped into a much larger world. Even the radio airwaves played a song which, although had nothing to do with Cuba or communism or jews, nonetheless kept that phrase on the tip of our tongues as we sang along..."don't they know it's the end of the world?"
The world has ended many times since then. For all of us. Not just radical change in our personal lives, but the world outside our heads.
I also met Bobby Kennedy...well, his wife anyway. He was speaking at our town square...a small republican town. After the speech, he and Ethel went to the Democratic headquarters in town...and a few friends and I were milling around there getting bumper stickers and pins and such. We didn't know they were coming so it was a surprise when they walked up to us. Ethel shook my hand and thanked me for my support. Me? I wasn't supporting anyone...but that was a nice sentiment. She was so exuberant and pretty and open-faced. It was hard not to fall in love at first sight. Bobby was across the room engaged with others...I didn't wait to talk to him. Sorry I didn't now. Oh well...it was in all the papers.
But jews put and end to Bobby too. Shame.
I look around and see the end of another world. There is no innocence left. They see to that. Amerikan Idolatry and faux revolutions, and the world we used to know is no longer good enough for them.
Maybe I am not getting across what I want. Perhaps I am not "communicating effectively" to use a phrase that in Jack Kennedy's time would have sounded very odd. Things change. Worlds end.

So anyway, I was just thinking about all the things that have happened since that autumn day when the soon-to-be-assassinated president told us to keep an eye on the ball. I still am, Jack. I know who is pitching it. I know who killed you and your brother... when that world ended.


Sunday, November 17, 2013

The Average Guy

I have yet to meet him. Joe Average. Of all the thousands of people that I have met and worked and played with, I don't think I would insult any of them by calling them by this fictional moniker. Much trouble has been stirred by glossing over humanity to find a common denominator that strips Joe of his. 

Much.
Joe doesn't exist in a spreadsheet any more than he exists in reality. 
But that's as may be.
Everyone has their humanity despite what we are led to believe. Even Arabs. I won't berate Joe because he isn't aware of things that I think I am aware of. And I say 'think', because I deal in speculation. I 'know' very little. I know that I read a lot. Mostly other people's speculation. We all seem to be playing a game out here of "if-this-then-this". Trying desperately to connect dots that will vindicate our particular brand of awareness. What I think I "know" for example, is that every single problem we face in our modern world has its roots in how we raise our children as a species. Every one. I have yet to be disproved on this point. Wanna give it a shot?  It all comes back to the simple concept that what you are around your kids influences them and how they will act when they get to the age where they make their own decisions. That to me is more than obvious. The old saw that tells us that 'people don't change' is of course, true. The reason it is true is that by the time children have been hard-wired with the example of their parents and are on their own...if they
make it that far...will behave in the only fashion they know. Operate from a core program that tells them 'if it was good enough for Mom and Dad...". Or, the program in their biologic computer rebels and tells them, "Mom and Dad had their heads up their asses and there is no way that I am going to be like them". Of course you can substitute 'Mom and Dad' with whatever role-models you had if you don't come from a nuclear family...and who's to say that we should?


This Be The Verse

By Philip Larkin


They fuck you up, your mum and dad. 
They may not mean to, but they do. 
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats, 
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.



But that's as may be. To see the world for what it is, look at it through your kid's eyes. Look at their education, their facebook page, their celebrity worship, their worship of the material. You taught them this. And it is reinforced by the very media that you hate. Social and non-interactive. That is the world you handed them. Is it good enough for you? If it isn't, well you need to talk to them. Like the mistaken concept in the second "Back To The Future" where Doc says "We got to do something about your kids". That is all he had to do. Talk to them. Telling Marty and his girlfriend that, is enough. They don't have to take a Delorian to a possible outcome to fix what hasn't happened yet.

My parents told me 'no' incessantly...and even that wasn't enough. No...is a good word. Along with the word 'hate', it has gotten a bad rap. Both serve a fundamental purpose without which we would be lost. Well, more lost than we are.
But back to 'Joe'. We all know him even though he doesn't exist any more than that half a child that we see on population charts. He is an affable bloke, Joe. He believes everything he is told. Questions nothing. Goes along with the crowd...no matter where they are going. Watches TV 24/7. Drinks the right beer, uses the right
deodorant and has a designer dog... and half a cat. We try against insurmountable odds to wake him up to the horrors that surround him, but the knucklehead just won't live like us. He doesn't have time. So why do we bother when he is a figment of the imaginative marketing strategy of corporations? Because we know him too well, I guess. We gave birth to him and just walked away. Went to work to buy him the things he asks us for. So we won't have to be placed in that uncomfortable position of saying "no".
Lane change:
Mark Twain once said of death: " I was dead for millions of years before I was born and it never inconvenienced me a bit".
Several readers have pointed out that I cannot possibly get a defensible position defined here in essays with less than two-three thousand words. Bullshit. I have a post-modern take on it. Impressionistic essays.
Just sayin...