Sunday, April 29, 2012

Wages Of Tyrants And Fascistas




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We're at the whim of sullen monsters, churlish agents—provocateurs. We're tazed by charming charlatans, men in black... and crooked Jurors.
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Errant "pundits" give them airtime and the dust is quickly raised! It's soon we're all insensible, standing rigid, stunned—afraid!
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Then, once again, all truth is lost; it wanders in the fray. ...See, once again a fog is loosed in which we're all delayed . ...We once again step backward; we're hamstrung and betrayed while a jealous few make profit... for mistakes that they have made!
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...Though, some *magic* surely lingers from this sullen slight of hand... The *magic* that exists beyond the "science" they "command"?
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The *magic* passed that "two percent"—which changes all the rules!? The *magic* that's not copped to in disgracing low-rent schools. The *magic* that displays itself for free in all our skies; the *magic* that betrays the man and all his skillful lies. The *magic* of autonomy. The *magic* of release! The *magic* of our future yawning vast—without surcease.
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The skeptibunky crowd delights in frauds of "woo-woo" light... which strengthens glib positions of their science and its worshiped might. All is right with them, then; all their castles, built in air—can be left to churlish offspring who are standing, idly, there.
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The "believers," disenfranchised by these skeptibunky boors, look beyond the hopeless pale to a time beyond accord. Sadly, used up in their "reaching" for the "brass ring," they are told, is the object of *true* happiness: a car, a home—some 'fold'...
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UFO's? Then silly, a dangerous kind of thing. You're crazy if you see them. Perceive the change they'd bring!
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Though, change would come... and not all good... Still... good enough I'd think. As it stands we're on a precipice, and we totter on a brink!
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That there's more to mean existence than to toil endlessly? That there's more to simple living than to struggle needlessly? That there's more to life than working so some few can rape the sky just to squander all that largesse on themselves in selfish pride!
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Where's pride in all our USELESS schools? They're designed to keep us stupid! Evil inculcations keep the "masses" starved and toothless!
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The man won't have *sane* birth control when it's EXCESS that's his flavor... his manipulated mechanisms controlling what he favors! See? Then there's clamor for his "pick and choose." He insures the status quo... competition, see, then tows his line? ...Or know a life of woe...
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The man co-ops your hopes and dreams to choose out what he has. He won't be, first, respectful—then he won't care you've been had!
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It's all about "control," you see, and "secrets" KEEP control.  I'd suspect he'll be reluctant... giving up on what he holds. It's why he makes ridiculous all the lights which haunt your skies. Those lights imply that he is passed, his system now deposeddespised.
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So damn you charmless agents, and go to hell (!) provocateurs. Go back, you sullen monsters, to the hells we have endured! Eat *spit* you 'charming' charlatans, crooked jurors, men in black. A little harder now to fool we've found the deck is surly stacked!
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Errant pundits give you air time, so you hoist your own petard. Be careful what you're saying, or get smoked like cheap cigars. Your "ethics" and your "morals" will be held, as well, to YOU... with no more double standards to corrode our will—just truth.








A depression precipitates with the suggestion that it seems too difficult to tell the monsters, charlatans, provocateurs, crooked jurors, and men in black from the genuine illuminati. Indeed, are they even the same...

Finally, I come to the conclusion that the genuine *illuminati* must be very rare, if extant, though all I have to do to be personally convinced of their existence is to look deeply into a clear night sky. Space time and surface area enough for anything provided in that kingdom at hand, eh?

I can't fault the facilitator, the brave individual who provides a forum for the enigmatic questions that, admitted or not, compel each and every one of us. Efficacious facilitators, reader, are people who provide a journalistic treatment of fortean issues, flatly, not found anywhere else in the world of broadcast media. Billy Cox comes to mind.  The others smirk up their landed sleeves, lack the egalitarian stones to ask the tough questions, or openly sneer at what the aforementioned *facilitators* serve up as daily fare.

Frankly, I'd love to be where these people are, doing what they do, seeing what they see ... hearing what they hear, and then I realize that, through them, to a large extent, that is EXACTLY what I'm doing!
I am compelled to a respect and an appreciation for that. One "riding coattails" should respect same.

...If it is subsequently discovered that they're just garden variety sociopaths in a newer fleece selling terror to juice the sales of wind-up radios?

Well, I'll remember _I_ was brave enough to ask, look, and finally, do some critical thinking on my own. I'm not buying in, per say—but I'm reading the hell out of the "anomalous prospectus," as there is SOMETHING going on that is not sold, or copped to in our rigidly controlled and *mainstream* churches, press, schools, or unelected government.

I am "eyes well askance" at all that; I am "arms decidedly akimbo." The mainstream referred to is an ass-licking lapdog to an all too human entity without my best interests at its psychopathic heart.

Astonishingly, without this most minimal respect for lubricating the man's "trickle-up machine," we're expected to otherwise provide maximum respect and regard for same. I suspect the dog will ultimately turn to bite the hand feeding it such disrespectful and unhealthful fare.

Such are wages of Tyrants and fascistas.

Restore John Ford!

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