He awoke with a start thrust back from the pseudo nightmare into the dark room. His bedroom. The thought police were at it again! The back of his neck felt like a dry piece of discarded shark cartilage. His head pounded and the rest of him was cold with the recent evaporation of thin layer of sweat. They would have to do better than this! The Frankenstein scenario starring a rubbery version of his late father did not have an authentic ring to it. There was no rhyme or reason to his giving compliance to a scenario where his own late father would have come back from the dead twice in a row to stride angrily about from the closet to bed post menacing him with malice in its eyes. There had been too many impromptu replays of various cardboard character animations and bad actors in latex rubber gear loosely posing as entertainment over the years. The comparison of current CG to same from past decades was not even worth any mental assay. They had taken away his job that day. Whatever informal back door initiative that had been enacted considering the way things now worked in this Orwellian age of incessant drone surveillance thick with Internet EMF, it was all too obvious that this was another feint to demoralize? He could still taste the aerosol within the apartment’s atmosphere wafting throughout his tiny dwelling. Some form of psychotropic spray that had a weak masking aroma suggesting a cheap variety of cigarette fumes acting as a cover. It was anybodies guess in terms of where exactly it might have been injected into his living space? Paranoia wasn’t really his thing. But the recent attempts to officially truncate sections of the dwindling free web now labeled as dark had provided a plethora of information in that regard. His own feeble contribution as a doubter of the official story line of the many re-tailored general history rewrites by NGO’s had been taken note of. Though, from experiences like the one demonstrated from this current evening, were less than efficient. The program of nocturnal signal to skull terror was still not fully developed being plucked to readily from its prototype stages. The general public outcry against the incessant mischief enacted by the reigning Globalist cartel having pushed it into rapid implementation. The final result as he had mentioned was more comic rather than psychologically stultifying.
No doubt, the world had changed! Gone was the fiction of ongoing indefinite commercial driven consumer security. He as well as too many others were too accustomed to the superficialities of these endlessly recycling cliches. Stratagems too often employed to allow one fall prey so easily into their ploys. The only remaining mystery seeming to be incongruous as to why they dallied with him at all? A simple discreet early morning visit employing a little brute force along with the right chemical compound and death by apparent heart attack would go unquestioned. No that was not their way of doing business of course. Like some old once fearsome alley cat now found nearly toothless, they preferred to play with their prey before finally crushing its skull within their jaws. This mentality of petty depravity so characteristically apparent in each and every one of this group’s staged affairs that they all resembled some poorly staged form of vaudeville harping upon past scenarios as marked more by tiresome repetition rather than any valid attempt to universally deceive. The mark left by same no doubt exposing unstable mentalities too vainglorious and self-congradulating to realize that all this falderal only made it easier to detect their usual pattern of lethal mischief. The shopworn scenario of lone gunman assassin perpetrating school shooting as nationally publicized by the embedded yellow dog press too blatantly obvious as yet another deep state mercenary hit squad plying their trade routinely assisted by local law enforcement assets. Some of the same regional players having an ongoing record of playing the same old key roles in directing similar incidents over recent years. The attempt at traumatizing the general population into surrendering their weapons as well as their fates to these ruffians failing miserably. The decades spent in de-evolulving community spirit by the application of mind numbing mass media like television and major motion pictures falling far short of deterring the current popular ire at being ceaselessly manipulated. The universal yoke of the current worldwide Ponzi scheme infernally sucking all wealth from the local economies through progressionally mounting compound interest as administered in the return of worthless fiat currency for one’s labors was coming to a close. The scrupulously decentralized world marketplace that had been put into place over the last decades was now shown up for the ruse that it was. A vain mean spirited attempt to disable all cultures from their former independence and identities by the ever power hungry bank driven octopus. Its juggernaut interrupted for too long by the free flow of unauthorized damning information into the reservoir of the general public consciousness. Something that had been so grievous that no one seemed surprised anymore by the implementation of the usual bag of these lethal tricks. Their world pyramid was beginning to crumble!
The desperation Of constant soreness that too often wracks the body. The area of your choosing. The days of distress dissolve into grains of sand. The fiends of Hollywood put ideas into your head. The voices emanating in this public space around you simply obsessed with the illusion of money being wealth. Garnering paper instead of material good and land. Some fish swim through the water in an assumed cloak of inky deception. Invisibility by obfuscating. I imagined anonymity and achieved it. It is called mediocrity. Terminally aware but blinded by coffee and indifferent experimental surroundings of the experiential mundane. Throw away impressions passing through the scattering device known as memory. Raucous disturbance by virtue of head injury. Too much in the way of apologies for wanting to be recognized as being larger than life. Reflections of a more generous era floating to the surface. Dreams popping tiny bubbles. Effervescence. You can spot unfulfilled desire by the expressions frozen upon their faces. The paper illusions of a dream. A carousel swung out of balance, out of focus, out of reach back into darkness. Too many educated beyond their means to comprehend.
Wake up in this hostile land of the too many perpetually mentally deficient. This New World order engines equally casting a perpetual gray overhead. Mood deficient ever offensive ‘weed‘ smelling dirty canvas soaked individuals blasting their presence all the way up from the back of the bus. De-evolved animal vision sick fucks uncaring in their habituation and particularly so. Every time you feel another thick black cock push its way harder up your chancre ridden asshole you can think of how you fucked up your own life by messing with the Proletariat for no good reason. Demoted now to just another worthless piece of shit. Would you really want your dreams to become reality? Or is that simply the main way of controlling those who irk those other that push the buttons and pull the levers?
Tall dehydrated ‘pickle‘ people. Some tall, and just in from Asia. International crowd, running suit proud. One becomes two. Two both passingly curious in a Japanese sort of way. Everything sort of perfect in a superficial sense. The streets outside are suddenly full of Asian faces. Inexplicable? The world is struck by silence. No talk zone declared beneath the blare of eighties hipster Negro beat speaker tones. The Barrista spills the ice. Water wiped upon the marble counter for the first time in ages in that consciously diffident Feminist backhanded sort of way. It hurts my eyes to look up at such closed minded people. It never fails that those bereft of proper parenting were missing a father. The ones that need to stabilize their fragile existence by routinely diminishing customer’s egos by enacting silent intimidation. If this world were to stand up to direct interrogation of, “Is there?“, versus, “Can you?“, then what? Women of unimaginable proportions who have lost their own sex somewhere along the way. Perhaps existing under rolls of fat covering the intransigence of their aprons! The intellectual mind sucking prune thing posing as the Dr. Phibes surrogate’s wife. The arrogant ‘lefty chink‘ over the left shoulder flexing her bum sticking it out suggesting the false possibility of a brilliant as fuck. Sodomy being the only possible converse that they seem to know. Available to any who might wish to tame her lifetime of regrets.
The playlist around the room a usual life experience for those addicted to opiates from the world’s foremost drug dealers. Centuries old poisons of misapprehensions taken for incontrovertible fact. A poising virus affecting mankind as a whole like lice. The plague of false ideas supported by nicotine, sugar, coffee, cocaine, opium, and all the big business mark down specials that your wasted pocketbook can possibly survive. The two zombies continue defying life before the picture window to the unceasing march of time outside. One the better of the two parasites feeding off the flagging life force of the other. The pretend male thing prancing about in his Spandex tights and a woolen shirt. The haphazard result of the interaction of two queens, one having slipped up and actually possessing a real vagina and womb. Young woman forward thinking Feminist guiding her male pet about. The constancy of his enforced silence a book end against being drawn into a larger unwanted discussion that might leave her the lessor. “Sic em boy!“. They are collectively terrorized at the prospect of their sole means of support in the basement of the very thing they espouse hatred for turning off the spigot of future finances. This invisible daddy resented by the playbook vagaries of contemporary Liberal lore.
The horseshit smell of misplaced poverty piss down the back of the pants shit stained male white homelessness. Piquant aroma of a really, not wanted to be breathed in, form of rare cheese. Do not even think of crackers! Society now tank on the guise of a demanding mistress that sorts people like a cardsharp putting ‘children‘ in their place. The tyranny of mother Medea. Man hating the prime directive as witnessed in smelly roached reprobates like him. Guys and gals that should have made it in happily continuing forth the race now cut off at the pass by the current doctrine of hate making them mortal enemies. Stale stink perfumes of unceasing echoes the rip tide. Existentialism now the seat of oblivion in this nightmare situation. People’s insides deposing gas from the persistent alleged Neanderthal ubiquity.
Now that the sheep’s clothing has been thrown off and the ‘wolves‘ of Wall Street are running wild in an open attack upon anything Caucasian, I feel that it is high time to unburden myself about a few things that have bothered me. Things that for too many of you that you still won’t touch like why the cartel that has always run Hollywood was so insistent that a full moon could turn a man into a wolf. As if such superstitious fantasies that could be attributed to some modern day underlying reality. The once grievous terminology that is now part of contemporary patois being mind fuck. Their mighty sword to inflict “great vengeance and furious anger” (Ezekial 25:17) against the enemies of Israel. This can literally be embodied in their products released for general viewing over the years that salved their white European audiences into complacency while tricking them into self-destructive viewpoints through artful shorelines using ethnic shills. Considering that in the classic modus operandi of the modern detective one looks for both motive and opportunity their are plentiful examples connected with the inception of same. The cult of the magus that goes back to Darius the Great, who as in the words of he old Negro spiritual “literally let their people go” in 519 BC, is synonymous with entrancing other peoples so as to take their treasure and ultimately destroy them. A cycle that has been repeating itself without interruption over all the years in-between. The true birthplace of the notion of Hollywood being to capture ones attention, confuse, and instill false thoughts being the basis of the practice of magic. Can anything explain better why the entire population of every other modern society on this planet seems beset by such inner turmoil? Who could have imagined two decades back that the most valued possession in ones inventory of material objects would be one that they could hold in their hand and daily capture their entire focus of life? The older technology being that honey trap of the old grand Baroque movie palaces of the nineteen-thirties when the national money supply was ‘mysteriously’ contracted forcing most into economic want of the dime or dollar to get in? The power of the motion picture and those singular products released at pivotal points in history precluding larger world events equally unfathomable. That is of course if one dares to directly take a probing unflinching look!
Take for example the year 1947 two years after the conclusion of the complete destruction of their avowed enemy, the German people, many events that magically occurred at the same time had a certain synchronicity not unlike so many modern ones day. On Nov. 29, 1947, the United Nations General Assembly passed a resolution calling for Palestine to be partitioned at the expense of indigenous Arabs and Christians for European Jews, allowing for the formation of the Jewish state of Israel. The National Security Act of 1947 enacted a major restructuring of the United States government’s military and intelligence agencies. And, seemingly far less noteworthy, MGM released the movie, A Gentleman’s Agreement, based on Laura Z. Hobson’s best selling novel. A storyline plot in which (white) Christian a journalist played by Gregory Peck poses as a Jew to research an exposé on antisemitism in New York City. The picture went on to be nominated for eight different Oscars and won three. How convenient! So egregious was its release at the pivotal time when the Jewish inspired doctrine of Soviet Communism was actually found to be directly entrenched within the highest offices of the USA that it upset the House Un-American Activities Committee as it was considered a tactic of interference with the investigation of some of its key creators. Elia Kazan, Darryl Zanuck, John Garfield, and Anne Revere all being called to testify before the same committee. The author not un-coincidentally being the ‘first female director’ of Time magazine and birthed by radical Socialist Russian Jewish parents in part behind The Jewish Daily Forward. A politically focused publication in its own right today now stripped down to the title Forward. Her book publisher another Jewish mega-influencer of his day, Richard L. Simon of Simon & Schuster, a company that dominated publishing. Birds of a feather having a marked similarity as of old in sticking together?
One might suggest that the placement of these and other events were instrumental in paving the way in terms of softening public opinion in the USA for supporting the implantation of the long standing project of a Jewish state in Palestine. The culmination of the payoff by the Triple Entente for twice bringing the United States out of isolationism to defeat the rising economic dominance of turn of the century Germany. One violating the greatest invention of modern World Jewry, the burned, but seemingly never singed, offering of that ongoing modern myth and money-making proposition termed the Holocaust. Forget the facts, this is Hollywood! And not ironically, this is the current state immoral of the world where most who are electronically plugged in the grid believe in space aliens and contentious generations of women that can easily physically best all men rather than partner with them. A global financial based society that thrives of the deception that its controllers are routinely allowed to charge obscene levels of compound interest just for their printing of paper alone. The notion of continuously producing that same old magic of shifting public opinion now currently singled out as ‘fake news’ and box office tanking socially immoral culturally toxic blockbusters. How odd that so many of these enterprises routinely trip themselves up under direct scrutiny in terms of pervasive violence, sexual perversion and misquoting the facts. The notion of collective guilt and self-destructive powerlessness always foisted upon white culture by the end of each presentation. Is it any wonder that the indoctrination of successive generations has led to false notions that will simply enslave them in the employ of destroying their own kind? It is too bad that the book burning of the twenty-first century goes on silently in the developed preference easily manipulated electronic media as opposed to very quickly disappearing conflictory paper.
“And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.” Ezekial 25:17 (a key portion of the Hebrew Pentateuch, AKA Torah/old testament)
The proud parent thinking that they had done the right thing taking their child to the amusement park asked, “Well! How was it?” The little boy stared back quizzically and replied, “I’ll tell you when I finally get back from the very last one.” And who of any of us can say that we have ever gotten off that merry-go-round since? Or indeed have wanted to? Even if it finally kills everything about us that may have been decent in the end? We spend the night in fear of our own cowardice to act in our own behalf. Leaders and perpetrators may be one and the same but the real party at fault is ourselves for going along. Is the life of a fantasy soaked slave so sweet that he cannot risk breaking his chains? What is so magnificent about carrying the very weapon of your enemy about in your hand and then taking it’s cancerous emanations into your head? Who told you that you could not wash your own clothing by hand in a washtub? Who told you that you had to allow yourself to be injected with the same poison that is spread by the same institutions that wish to eliminate you? Why must your take a necktie as anything beyond what it is intended to symbolize beyond a noose that you eventually hang yourself with? The populations of the major cities are simply self deluded fools that think that their lifetimes are simply about being owned like spoiled pets. Fulfilling a false illusion of individuality while in fact they are merely rearranged cogs glued into place on phantom wheels designed to grind them into their own slow inevitable destruction. The plans of which having been planted through careful drama’s endless repetition written by those very enemies that have lived amidst them for generations as parasites. The existence that your persist in perpetuating is your own folly and no one else’s. You let ‘evil‘ rule existence, that less than ironic polar opposite of ‘live‘, and then wait around humbly, like empty headed sheep, for the consequences to catch up to you. The only sure thing in this equation being your own assured end on someone else’s terms.
This world is now created by metrosexuals. Self-righteous techno-Hottentots. Wrapped up in their own complacency and completely uninterested in who will rule them, for how long, or how in the further they will fall out of favor. The past is their oyster! Their personal whipping boy? The lodestone that washes clean their own sins of inaction for all those things they thought of but never thought to do. The Past. The foundation that they build their temples of disdain upon. Of ancient eras that were hard fought and rife with mounds of skulls of the defeated with grave flaws where everyone could not be happy. Or ever, ever was!
The whipping post upon which to hitch their slavish sense of the modern and virtue signal by wrinkling their noses at the stench of inequity. The safest home for the growth of monumental hypocrisy within all those myriads of complacent minds. The lies that lay upon lies that lay upon the present built upon convenience and toys. Convenient forms of rule to slowly incrementally abrade the feint-hearted who like to rail and rave from afar. Easy ducks for the self-proclaimed immortals to shoot later when the water barrels are brought out to be drained. And a normal life costs two times two time two what it does at this very hour in falsehoods of continual compounded interest. All to sit upon the ruins of one’s own land? The bridges freely replaced by toll booths and everything now taken away. Everything that has a cost and that must be paid in cash or blood or flesh. Whose neck is next? The laziest of creatures black and brown and mealy white turned yellow replaced by mandate. To enforce through fatal decrees of half-truths their own destruction in a moment anything that is simply considered ‘right‘.
You cannot be racist if you are no longer afforded a race. The only homeland that these citizens of longstanding seem to now be accorded is the grave. And even that will be plowed under. This is not considered racist because the official word from the squawk box of those loaded into government by grift and graft these last decades is guided by a foreign hand. This is the reward for all your lives of futility and hope of promises fulfilled. Your great grandchildren will be as fertilizer and fodder in the municipal dump. Still you are not foolish enough to get mad and angrily survive? The real race is that race to get as much as one can by getting their first. The rest is but the same sad lodestone of the accumulation of self-righteousness for idiots to carry around for the fiction of guilt that brought the razor to their own necks but that was never theirs. Only clever rivals. They deserve to be disappeared for they are truly the biggest of fools!
Why my world and worldview was ripped away from me. Here I sit mentally fit and physically reasonable. Waiting. Waiting for an opportunity. Any opportunity. Something that will never come again. Why? Because my generation who foolishly set the trend to Liberal mentalities were a bunch of fools. We were easily taken in by the notion of Utopia that was slathered upon us by those professional deceives in Hollywood, publishing and the counterfeit coinage of that segment that calls itself the ‘news’ media. Now I sit idle contemplating my imminent demise like some character in Orwell’s, Paradise Cafe. Feverishly monitoring the screen as if I was looking out the window at the planetary geo-engineered weather wondering when if ever I will see the sky and perhaps the stars ever again. Oh yes! My own eyes still experience what goes on around me, or does not. You see I have developed a long memory. Actively worked upon it in these times of unexpected prolonged unwanted leisure. The world as it once was now something that the current stack of techno-babies cannot imagine or possibly confront. They only know faux visual universes that ape insignificant semiotic post-Modernism.s that give an artificial flavor of worlds past. More in the way that prospective worlds of a tainted future all resemble the Socialistic plans for present tense co-opting. The destructive fantasy of equality by complete normalization on the model of the mechanically foolproof doctrine of the Corporate Globalist management of the entire planet. One where human life is an anachronism that must be stamped out from universal molds to offer perfect cogs. Ones deprogrammed of any uniqueness and ready to surrender all individual leanings in return for the occasional prize of some robot fulfilled animal desires. Semen and ovum for the uterus of one’s closed fist and not for the promulgation of an independent family. Mass routine inoculations to limit lifespan and vitality to the absolute baseline minimum or use as a bio-weapon to quell any unforeseen revolt. A core obsession to displace and dispel all Elvira Madigan’s format he planet. Bitter daily pills filled with arsenic. Life as perpetual suicide where each day begins and ends with a wish to finally get it over with and die.
No, I did not imagine this sort of world possible way back when I refused to follow my own father’s lead. Or take his hard won sage advise. Now the current generations are not even guaranteed the possibility of committing that mistake. That vague steel wool superstructure of state supported constant social justice harangue wears down all propositions that were once taken as solid foundations of sanity and successful life. Things like living a childhood exclusively within a home with two parents there to actively raise them. Instead of the modern conventions of constantly being farmed out to nurseries and day care and after school behavior medication by electronic screens. Live constantly with the faux apprehension that the easily available Internet cornucopia of phone accessible factoids does not comprise wisdom. Routinely surrender themselves in the blink of an eye to social media gossip that cannot validate its claims beyond an unconscious sense of perceptual awareness that it must come ultimately from an anonymous overbearing despotic power group in control of that same means of diffusion. The motivation by way of an unspoken fear that they too may be quickly marginalized if they do not go along with the central planning’s latest whim. Mass suicide of the the self by the continued consensus of silence supporting an increasing conformity by total inaction. “Do what you are told!” and squawk about it in private. Blame, blame,blame! But never act in your own behalf by supporting your own family identity against the latest shifting viewpoints. Take on the portmanteau of guilt without question or rage against those who would saddle you with it. Just sink back and surrender. Some form of ongoing unstoppable festering waking nightmare that easily de-trains any of my own unconscious nocturnal leanings no matter how vile or mad or insane they might be. The dreams of former conventionality as once imagined now a future fully and finally erased. “All hail the eternal guinea pig!” Chasing the world upon a screen while they remain perpetually immobile. This are the seeds of the Utopia’s sold to my generation by the evil corporate few come to flourish. I sit here and sip my coffee in the meantime. Looking out over the perpetual gray landscape of civilized futility an no longer dare to dream. Only being able to support just so many nightmares?
There was a story going around that the aliens had enlisted human governments to implement programs to implement their own destruction. The idea as told to them that the only alternative offered was the complete destruction of the planet on a cosmic scale. A familiar scenario that everyone and all were supposed to be very patently upset upon hearing. Part of the old classic continuous political harangue of ‘any minute‘ boom doom gloom. But now another long un-played broken record that still fits well with our age these days. Still the parsimonious culture of hate and fear must have its way if by nothing else than sheer repetition. So personally having a particularly boring existence without any possibility of any threat of real adventure seeping into present tense existence. The constant reminder however that all was not right with the world constantly hammered home. Not with anything monumental beyond the inability to keep constant a steady regimen of employment. Certainly this was a new territory menacing the old. At certain times of those infrequent recollection of memories of childhood the occasionally recall the joy I shared with my father when we were together. He had his own hidden child-like nature that at those times made one feel like a kindred spirit. The world has changed since then as it always does. With the expected “not for the better” portion. So what was there to do but pull in one’s head and hide in one’s shell like most of the rest of society? Or just say fuck it and step out with whatever comes out comes out. Then jump down the hole and follow it down to what lurks deep down. “Spiritual tourrettes anyone?” Who among you can cast that stone first? Who among can do that sort of heavy lifting? The past is the past. But the aliens are restless. They want in on the good life. Though they get frustrated when it is out of reach beyond a pane of glass. So they bring their old world with them. And then therein is the problem. Two cannot occupy the very same space at the very same time or poof. Someday soon everyone will wake up. And it may not be conveniently in the middle of the night. Then what! Naked in the middle of the boulevard? What is worse flesh eating aliens or a completely drained banking account? You be the judge.