Posts Tagged ‘Life

17
May
08

Ripple

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,
Would you hear my voice come thru the music,
Would you hold it near as it were your own?

Its a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken,
Perhaps they’re better left unsung.
I dont know, dont really care
Let there be songs to fill the air.

Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty,
If your cup is full may it be again,
Let it be known there is a fountain,
That was not made by the hands of men.

There is a road, no simple highway,
Between the dawn and the dark of night,
And if you go no one may follow,
That path is for your steps alone.

Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.

You who choose to lead must follow
But if you fall you fall alone,
If you should stand then who’s to guide you?
If I knew the way I would take you home.

Ripple – The Grateful Dead

06
May
08

MTV, Teenage Suicide, and a Girl from China

I was a wide-eyed impressionable youngster at the beginning of the MTV generation. A clicky little brown cable box would transport exotic sights and sounds to my buddy Danny’s house. My first experience with MTV and music videos was sitting in Danny’s den struggling to make sense of this new media music-pimping creation.

The neighborhood kids would congregate daily at Danny’s house and watch the newest offerings from RATT, Twisted Sister, and ZZ Top. Since my family was too poor (and Christian) to have MTV at our house, I would absorb my devil music indoctrination across the tracks. Years later, the Satanic music that Danny loved so much was a contributing cause to his teenage suicide.

Danny had a rough life. He had a short fuse and liked to torture animals to let off steam. He lived with his grandmother (who represented herself as his mother). She told Danny that his father was a lumberjack who died when a tree fell on him (in an act of Karmic forest retribution). His real mum actually lived next door to him, but Danny was told that she was his sister. She was a martial arts expert and was married to a muddle-headed Lou Ferrigno look-alike. It is complicated I know.

I suspect that his mom (pretend sister) became pregnant at an early age by a naughty fella with sweaty palms and an tingling rod of boy-meat. The maternal deception was created so the neighbors wouldn’t ostracize the family on moral or religious grounds. The Kingdom of Heaven is denied to those who satisfy their carnal urges at a young age, especially if the lusty endeavor produces a sin-child. Sadly, my pearly gate entry has been precluded due to sexual self-abuse. When I was 11, I throttled the one-eyed milkman on my parents bed will ogling Marsha Brady on the telly.

Like me, Danny had a bevy of teenage psychological problems. One of his favorite games was lining up large rocks on the railroad tracks behind his house in the hopes that the train would derail. Other times, we would meet at the designated train arrival time and try to take out the conductor with rocks. Of course, that was when we were both young and relatively innocent. I later graduated to high-level felony property damage, arson, and pellet gun sniping. Danny moved onto to devil worship, grave-robbing, and Russian roulette.

I did not have a lot of contact with Danny when he hit his mid-teens. He got involved in the heavy metal scene – donning trench coats and black boots (ala Colombine killers Klebold and Harris). At night he would rob graves for skulls and bones to decorate his room with. I was deeply entrenched in the skater culture and happily filled my days vandalizing curbs, benches, and hand-rails. Danny morphed into the silent brooding type jamming to Guns and Roses and Metallica endlessly.

Danny was sent off to boot camp by his grandmother to straighten him out. He was home for a visit and pleaded desperately not to be sent back. As a kid, Danny would have explosive outbursts and make threats about this or that, but would never follow through. He made good on his last one. Since his mum wouldn’t waver on shipping him back off, he sat on his bed and removed his head with a shotgun blast.

Back to MTV.

I vividly remember David Bowie’s video for “China Girl”. It was pretty heavy for 1983. Around that time, you had David lee Roth exhibiting his high-kick gyrations, Michael Jackson was leading zombie parades, and the Talking Heads were threatening Americans with domestic arson. The song stuck out a bit from the typical sex-drugs-rock and roll MTV blueprint. It was arty and sensual – concepts that I had not been exposed to.

China Girl was written with Iggy Pop during their West Berlin days in the late 70’s. The video was banned in many countries due to its adult themes and partial nudity. It garnered Bowie the title of Best Male Video at the 1984 Video Music Awards. As a kid, this video put me in a trance whenever it came on the tube. Bowie’s delivery is haunting.

Here is my favorite lyric from China Girl:

I stumble into town just like a sacred cow

Visions of swastikas in my head

Plans for everyone

It’s in the white of my eyes

30
Apr
08

Mass Media Mind Control and the Herd Mentality

Why are so many Americans oblivious to the destruction of individual liberty, the subversion of the bill of rights, and the post-9/11 consolidation of government power? In a nutshell, they have been brainwashed to obey. Critical thinking and analytical skills are being intentionally deluded by mass media manipulation of opinion, the chemical infestation of the water and food supply, and through aerial spraying (chem-trails).

The Fourth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution guarantees:

[T] right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.

The Fourth Amendment was presciently worded to protect future generations against governmental abuses that could not have been foreseen in the 18th century. Technological developments used by the NSA to spy on Americans (i.e., remote neural monitoring) are expressly prohibited in the language of the Fourth Amendment that guarantees the right of the people to be “secure in their persons.”

The most prevalent form of soft mind control programming is television programming. Ironically, those who watch the most television are the least informed about world events. The media is a top-down hierarchy disinformation agent that achieves its objective with great efficacy. What information are you not getting from your shiny-suit, pretty-faced, talking-head, spoon-fed media porridge?

The following excerpted article does an excellent job explaining how psychological mind control programming operates to obfuscate, confuse, and manipulate the viewer. I lived a vast majority of my lifetime under the artfully constructed illusion, maybe you do too. If ignorance is bliss, than why aren’t you happy?

Experiments conducted by researcher Herbert Krugman reveal that when a person watches television, brain activity switches from the left to the right hemisphere. The left hemisphere is the seat of logical thought. Here, information is broken down into its component parts and critically analyzed. The right brain, however, treats incoming data uncritically, processing information in wholes, leading to emotional, rather than logical responses. The shift from left to right brain activity also causes the release of endorphins, the body’s own natural opiates—thus, it is possible to become physically addicted to watching television, a hypothesis borne out by numerous studies which have shown that very few people are able to kick the television habit. It’s no longer an overstatement to note that the youth today that are raised and taught through network television are intellectually dead by their early teens.

The dumbing down of humanity is represented by another shift which occurs in the brain when we watch television. Activity in the higher brain regions (such as the neo-cortex) is diminished, while activity in the lower brain regions (such as the limbic system) increases. The latter, commonly referred to as the reptile brain, is associated with more primitive mental functions, such as the “fight or flight” response. The reptile brain is unable to distinguish between reality and the simulated reality of television. To the reptile brain, if it looks real, it is real. This is where the manipulators use our own emotions as strings to control us. The distortions and directions we are being moved to are taking place in the subconscious, often undetected.

Propaganda techniques were first codified and applied in a scientific manner by journalist Walter Lippman and psychologist Edward Bernays (nephew of Sigmund Freud) early in the 20th century. During World War I, Lippman and Bernays were hired by then United States President, Woodrow Wilson, to participate in the Creel Commission, the mission of which was to sway popular opinion in favor of entering the war, on the side of Britain. Edward Bernays said in his 1928 book Propaganda,

“The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in democratic society. Those who manipulate this unseen mechanism of society constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country.”

The techniques are increasing in their sophistication over time as the mind scientists that serve the empire continue to discover scientific breakthroughs as to how the human brain functions, learns, retains information, and behaves. The most effective brainwashing techniques are used on the most successful propaganda networks. Most importantly, notice the repetition behind the lies that the politicians and their corporate media groupies tell us. You see, the unimaginable fallacies are created as ‘truth’ not because it’s logical or provable, but because of the broken record technique. No matter how ridiculous the lie, it’s repeated often enough that the brain doesn’t know the difference between reality and nursery rhymes. This technique is underestimated in its ability to allow the puppeteers to hypnotize millions of people. Instead of “Fair and balanced” it’s “We say it enough times, and you believe it.”

According to David L Robb, Author of Operation Hollywood,

“Hollywood and the Pentagon have a long history of making movies together. It’s a tradition that stretches back to the early days of silent films, and extends right up until the present day. It’s been a collaboration that works well for both sides. Hollywood producers get what they want – access to billions of dollars worth of military hardware and equipment – tanks, jet fighters, nuclear submarines and aircraft carriers – and the military gets what it wants – films that portray the military in a positive light; films that help the services in their recruiting efforts.”

They create something coined ‘disinfotainment’. They mix disinformation with entertainment and call it disinfotainment.

The natural reaction from the people is a request for more control to ensure more safety. Most let their fear and emotional side control their decisions and usually translated into something like, “The government needs more power over our lives to make us safer and freer from tyranny. I believe what the media tells me so I will support whatever decisions they make.” Today’s mainstream corporate news program discourages dissent of the war and paints activists with a negative brush that hints of treason.

When you get to the other side of the terror alerts of all shapes and sizes, you find another nightmare masquerading as the savior. The ‘Ministry of Truth’ will protect you. The mother government is here to rescue you and squash this brown terrorist bug, this gray alien, this avian bird flu, and every other nightmare that the nightly news brought you.

Our current leaders are of the messiah status and only through them, will we reach the gates of safety. The lie that has been accepted by so many as truth is that this is a religious war. Numerous prime time programs are telling the story of the crusades (without the horrors) to synch our vibrations up to something out of the 13th Century, instead of the 21st Century. If the America people accept the fact that the crusades are here, that George Bush reports directly to god, and that revelations are here, then they have won the war for our minds.

The most obvious reason that our minds are being controlled on a massive scale psychologically, is because our culture has been conditioned incrementally through TV, radio, or the paper. We are given the world reality through a screen, some ink, or radio waves. The truth is hiding in plain site. The indoctrination through these mediums warns us that views other than those presented by them are unimportant and too be condemned. This administration and media monopoly has a carefully crafted dehumanization program to anyone that dissents the official version of events.

If you choose to travel the road to the truth, then you must be prepared for the obstacles that await you. You may be condemned or criticized by your family, your friends, your lovers, or your co-workers. This is their programming that began at birth that is doing exactly what it’s supposed to do. You’re going to have to be stronger than that. Once you wake up, it’s as if a hypnotist came along and snapped his fingers. You wake up and say to yourself, “Oh my god. I can see it now. Why did it take me so long to wake up?!” For some of you it can be a major shock. Like anything else, take this information and knowledge in stages. If it took a lifetime for them to mold your reality for you, then you know that it may take longer than a day to fully awaken. Remember, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

I want you to get mad. I don’t want you to protest, I don’t want you to riot, I don’t want you to write to your congressman, because I wouldn’t know what to tell you to write. I don’t know what to do about the depression, the inflation, the Russians, or the crime in the streets. All I know is that first… You’ve got to get mad ~ Howard Beale

26
Apr
08

Remembering Gram Parsons (The Grievous Angel)

Gram Parsons described his art as “Cosmic American Music.” He was a trust fund baby and a Harvard dropout whose grand dad owned a sizable chunk of Florida’s orange groves. Despite his blue blood background, he wrote songs illuminating the little man’s plight, spiritual struggles, and tales of a broken heart. Gram’s influence on the late 60’s music scene earns him a chiseled chunk of marble in the pantheon of the musical gods

Parsons cut his musical teeth on early rock and roll, folk, and country music. He later joined the Byrds for a short stint contributing to their 1968 album Sweetheart of the Rodeo. His legacy with the Byrds, and later the Flying Burrito Brothers, left an indelible groove in the wax of American music.

In the early 70’s, Parsons combined forces with the talented Alabama-born singer Emmylou Harris. Unfortunately, Parson’s personal demons, combined with his drug-fueled excesses, caught up with him. In 1973, He died from a lethal combination of morphine and alcohol in the desert at Joshua Tree National Monument.

Phil Kaufman, Parson’s road manager, made good on a promise to cremate his corpse in Joshua Tree.

Kaufman and a friend managed to steal Parsons’ body from the airport and, in a borrowed hearse, drove Parsons’ body to Joshua Tree where they attempted to cremate it, by pouring five gallons of gasoline into the open coffin, and throwing a lit match inside. What resulted was an enormous fireball. Police chased them, but, according to one account, “were encumbered by sobriety”. The two were arrested several days later, but since there was no law against stealing a dead body, were only fined $750 (or $700) for stealing the coffin.The burned remains were eventually returned to Parsons’ stepfather and interred in New Orleans. (source)

In December 2005, I made a pilgrimage to Joshua Tree to see the roadside motel where Parsons spent his last moments. The sun was setting in the California desert as I made my approach. It could not have been better timed. I shed a tear as I pushed the throttle onward towards Sin City.

Return of the Grievous Angel ~ Gram Parsons

Won't you scratch my itch sweet Annie Rich
And welcome me back to town
Come out on your porch or I'll step into your parlor
And I'll show you how it all went down

Out with the truckers and the kickers and the cowboy angels
And a good saloon in every single town

Oh, and I remember something you once told me
And I'll be damned if it did not come true
Twenty thousand roads I went down, down, down
And they all lead me straight back home to you

`Cause I headed West to grow up with the country
Across those prairies with the waves of grain
And I saw my devil,
and I saw my deep blue sea
And I thought about a calico bonnet from
Cheyenne to Tennessee

We flew straight across that river bridge,
last night a half past two
The switchman wave his lantern goodbye
and so long as we went rolling through
Billboards and truck stops pass by the grievous angel
And now I know just what I have to do

And the man on the radio won't leave me alone
He wants to take my money for something
that I've never been shown

And I saw my devil,
and I saw my deep blue sea
And I thought about a calico bonnet from
Cheyenne to Tennessee

The news I could bring I met up with the king
On his head an amphetamine crown
He talked about unbuckling that old Bible belt
And lighted out for some desert town

Out with the truckers and the kickers and the cowboy angels
And a good saloon in every single town

Oh, but I remembered something you once told me
And I'll be damned if it did not come true
Twenty thousand roads I went down, down, down
And they all lead me straight back home to you

Twenty thousand roads I went down, down, down
And they all lead me straight back home to you

“He seemed like a nice enough fellow. Regardless of anything else about Gram, he was a Southern boy: very polite, raised in a kind of genteel society, and there was a certain inherent kindness and humor that was always there, and you could spot it right away” ~ Emmylou Harris

23
Apr
08

Up The Hill Backwards

I wanted to write a post on this David Bowie song a while back, but I could not any video. Thankfully, a nice bloke on the YouTube recently uploaded a clip. The conventional take on this song is that it was based on the media coverage surrounding David and Angela’s divorce. Be that as it may, like all great art, the interpretation is subjective to the recipient.

To me, Up The Hill Backwards speaks to the calming effect of achieving true individual freedom (Mind Power). We are all capable of reaching this mental state. The government sponsored propaganda machine has no effect on those who reject their widely disseminated lies, fear-mongering shock doctrine operations, and blatant attempts to psychologically herd us.

By manufacturing panic, and immediately issuing promises of false security, their goal is to manipulate and enslave minds like a puppeteer controlling marionette strings. What if no one listened? What if no one bought the propaganda?

In reality, it has nothing to do with you. Only those who fear the imaginary Scary Monsters will be subjected to their evil clutches. Only those who refuse to disable their handler’s auto-pilot group-think fear promotion devices will be led blindly to their mind-controlled cell-block compartments. It does not have to be that way.

The vacuum created by the arrival of freedom
And the possibilities it seems to offer
It’s got nothing to do with you, if one can grasp it
It’s got nothing to do with you, if one can grasp it

A series of shocks – sneakers fall apart
Earth keeps on rolling – witnesses falling
It’s got nothing to do with you, if one can grasp it
It’s got nothing to do with you, if one can grasp it

Yeah, yeah, yeah – up the hill backwards
It’ll be alright ooo-ooo

While we sleep they go to work
We’re legally crippled it’s the death of love
It’s got nothing to do with you, if one can grasp it
It’s got nothing to do with you, if one can grasp it

More idols then realities
I’m OK, you’re so-so

Yeah, yeah, yeah – up the hill backwards
It’ll be alright ooo-ooo

Scary Monsters, super creeps, keep me running, running scared ~ David Bowie

17
Apr
08

Project: Human Barrier Deconstruction II

This installment of Human Barrier Deconstruction honors an extremely gifted writer/blogger named Veronica Romm. As a young girl, Veronica, and members of her family, left Russia for the United States.

This is from her About Me page:

I was born in St. Petersburg, Russia in 1973 and my family bravely immigrated to the states in 1979. We arrived in Brooklyn, Brighton Beach to be precise, with all the other Russian immigrants hungry for the American Dream. Unfortunately the Cold War was still in full swing and my arrival was met with some rather harsh tormenting and teasing. Good news, it made me a stronger kid and taught me very quickly the ways of the world. Perhaps because of this early experience I am always rooting for the underdog, and am sensitive to injustice in all areas.

Her blog is entitled Who knew, and comes highly recommended. Her depth of understanding and insight into the human experience initially captured my attention. Veronica was very supportive of Johnny Peepers in the shaky leg days of Dillsnap Cogitations. For that I am eternally grateful.

Below is her blog entry detailing her abandonment of the old life in exchange for the new.

Goodbye Leningrad

A little girl I am whisked away. All together, Mama, Papa and Babushka (grandma) board a plane to who knows where. We all land safely, on some ground. I ask “Is this where we are moving to?”

“No, dear not yet, this is where we wait.” I am told.

Wait? Alright then, it is a lovely place. Near the beach we stay with Senora Maria. They don’t speak my language here, I quickly realize. They speak Italian, we are in Lodispoli, somewhere south of Rome, Mama tells me. There are children there and they are friendly, we play outside, mostly on the beach and I learn “ciao” and many new words as I play each day. I understand them soon enough and they laugh when I say something funny in Italian but they help me and I learn.

Three months fly by and the wait is over, we must board another plane. Babushka is tired and somewhat ill; she seems scared as mama and papa explain that we have the “Visa’s” whatever those are, but they are happy so I know it must be a good thing. As the plane lands safely once again I ask “Is this where we are going to live?” Mama says yes while busy making sure our parcels are all there.

There are very few parcels, and I was only allowed to bring my favorite doll, just one. I left the rest behind with my best friend, Katya. She seemed happy but still cried that morning when we left. She knew we would not see each other again; she was older than I and much cleverer.

So there we are in a very busy airport once again, waiting. Suddenly I am whisked into the arms of a beautiful young girl. She hugs me as black tears rush down her face. Mama is confused but I know this girl, it is Marina my only cousin. Mama is shocked she has grown so much, a woman she is and they hug and cry. Bella and George my Totya (aunt) and Dadya (uncle) are there too. Everyone is crying, but not me, it’s too exciting with all the commotion.

I hold Babushkas hand as we walk through “JFK” and it is a long walk for her. She is tired, very tired and I want to leave this place with all the strange people speaking another language I don’t understand. Marina speaks it well and I laugh when I learn my first word, “OK”. Everything is “ok” as we get into the van with our parcels and everyone in the van together. Mama and Bella keep crying and laughing, they act strange and nervous but I am OK. We are on our way to our new house, it is May 10, 1979 and it is hotter than I have ever felt before.




Johnny Peepers

----> is a socio-pathetic degenerate with a penchant for cheap booze, ruphy-laden broads, and dim sum soup.

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