Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Hitler and the Big Lie - the magic trick explained

In Mein Kampf, Adolf Hitler explained the Big Lie. Paraphrasing now - regular people tell lots of little lies and expect to hear little lies in turn: but the concept of a huge lie, a really monstrous lie, a lie bigger than Ben Hur (ha ha ha), is something so alien to regular punters that it's effectively beyond their ken, and thus they are unable to dismiss it as a falsehood. The logic is: it's unimaginable that anyone, or any group, would tell a lie that big, therefore it must be true.


It seems there's a curious logic going on here. Let's imagine Hitler as a magician - a magician who explains the trick before he does it. "Ladies and Gentlemen, for my next trick I shall perform the 'Floating Phantom'. In this trick I shall, with great flourish, drape a cloth over a black felt-covered steel frame that will be lowered in as my lovely assistant drops into the box you see here. The frame was always there but you couldn't see it what with the black curtains and dim lighting, and not forgetting me and my lovely assistant doing our best to distract you. I next proceed with a bit of hoop-la - with a hoop! - and then for the big finale, I shall whip the cloth off and, believe it or not, the frame will be right there in front of you! But since you expect the girl, and she's not there, and what is there is impossible to see, you will be 'delighted and amazed', ha ha! And now on with the show! Ladies and Gentlemen! For your delight and amazement I shall now perform the wondrous Floating Phantom!"

And there you have Hitler as the creator of the Big Lie - the mad, where's-the-sense-in-it magician who tells you how he's going to trick you. Absurdly, no one ever wonders at this. Yes, we get the concept of the Big Lie, and yes, Hitler told us about it. But why do we imagine that it's his gig he's talking about? How does that make sense? And what was his big lie exactly? In any discussion of Hitler and the Big Lie, madly, no one ever does the obvious thing and cites an example of one of Hitler's Big Lies.

Okay, why don't I do it for them? How about the burning of the Reichstag? This was a false-flag attack blamed on 'terrorists' for the purpose of implementing a fascist roll-out. Um... perhaps we ought not to mention that? Shades of 911, with the Reichstag fire looking like the runt of the litter. In fact, purely in terms of casualties, and desired outcome (the nuking of Cairo), even the attack on the USS Liberty has it beat hands down. Sure enough in any public discussion of the Big Lie, the Reichstag fire will not be cited. Perish the thought! God forbid we end up in a broad Big Lie discussion about a government faking a terror attack to trick the population into accepting a variation of totalitarian rule. Thus we may discuss the Reichstag fire as false, and we may discuss Hitler as the proponent of the Big Lie, but we may not connect the two. Hitler may only be discussed as the epitome of evil one step below satan and the thought of him as an also-ran may not be countenanced.


But let's stop beating around the bush - Hitler, sure enough, was not that impossible creature, the magician who ruined his own trick. Rather he was the mythbuster of his day exploding the technique of those other tricksters, the people who owned the banks, the media, and most of commerce; who declared war on Germany in 1933; who ran the weimar printing presses; who backed and otherwise comprised the Bolsheviks; for whom the opium wars were fought; who ran and then commodified the slave trade; who posited God as supplicant under their own talmud; and who were, way back when, the only people Jesus ever got angry with. In case anyone missed it, that would be the Jews and specifically the dozen families who control international banking.

That was then, this is now, and the more things change, the more they stay the same. The media, which is to say, the place where all public discussions take place, is still entirely in the hands of Jews. If anyone wants to argue this, take it up with the gleeful-to-the-point-of-intoxicated Joel Stein. (Poor old Joel! Imagine the size of the shut-the-fuck-up he'd have been on the receiving end of! Ha ha ha, suffer in your jocks, Joel!).

Along those bracketed lines, it should come as no surprise that any discussion about the Big Lie, by the people who were accused of it, should posit the accuser as its inventor and chief practitioner. It's blame-the-victim meets shoot-the-messenger. If you think about it, this irony-free circularity is pretty much inevitable. It's QED territory - as if anyone given to the Big Lie, and who lie like they breathe, is going to throw their hands up in the air and say, 'We confess, it's true!' Ha ha ha ha - an abject impossibility.

Hmmm... an interesting thought, that. Let me have a cig on the balcony whilst I think about it.

---

For me, everything comes down to the continuum of selfishness and selflessness. The people for whom the phrase the Big Lie was coined are upside-down paragons of selfishness - they're anti-Buddhas, the opposite of 'at one with the universe' who embrace utterly the collective mindset of 'us and them' with its individual expression of 'me uber alles'. Again, if you want to argue, include me out of any parlour games. Just go read the talmud.

Whilst the Big Lie is a thing worth discussing, obviously it's subordinate to this anti-Buddha mindset. Or to put it another way, given the mindset, and the degree of it, the Big Lie is inevitable. Keeping in mind that 'selfish behaviour' equals 'sin' (with 'selfless behaviour' equalling 'virtue'), a lie, whether small, medium, or big (or as they say in America - medium, large, and extra large, ha ha) is just another sin, one amongst many. For the anti-Buddhas at the furthest end of the continuum, all of their sins are 'Big', Lies included.

The problem with sins this great is that they cannot be walked away from. Sure enough, this is Shakespeare territory, specifically Macbeth:

By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good,
All causes shall give way: I am in blood
Stepp’d in so far that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o’er


Onya Bill! Like he said, as sins increase in magnitude, indeed to epic proportions, the sinner can no longer return to the embrace of those sinned against. Put mathematically, let's just call sin 'desire' (for the self) and plot it on an xy graph. As desire increases, 'fear' (of retribution) will inevitably climb in an identical fashion. Ha! Euclidean proof that Buddha was right in declaring fear and desire to be the same thing. Hats off to the Buddha and Euclid both.

Anyway, bare-headed now, let's just say that under this logic, the Big Lie can never be admitted, walked away from, or any other thing. Lies will follow lies, one on top of another, until an absurd unsustainable edifice is constructed that can only have one future - collapse. Hmm... it seems I'm in Les Visible territory here. Back to the specifics.

---

There's been more shit said about Hitler than any other man in history. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad might have copped a lot of shit but he's got a long way to go to match the sins that have been concocted for Hitler. The bloc-media has perpetually depicted him as a villain whose only rival is Satan. BTW, I don't want anyone confused about me being an apologist for Hitler - best I can make out he was a crypto-gay paedophile racist, and probably a satanist to boot. Even on a purely technical realpolitik basis, Hitler is the guy to look to if you want a lesson in how to fail. (*And he was a vegetarian! This is ipso facto proof that vegetarians are clearly very wicked people. Hi John!)


But that being said, Hitler did a single extraordinary thing - he named and described the Big Lie. Has anyone else done this? Best I can see, everyone plays within the rules of the Big Lie parlour game, with no one ever calling a halt to things by simply naming the game. The game by the way is 'usury'. Even JFK, who followed Hitler in trying to retake control of his nation's money, did so in silence. What? Was he hoping the owners of the Fed wouldn't notice? Either way, he explained nothing and unsurprisingly no one has heard of executive order 11110.

Meanwhile on the telly, God knows how many discussions I've sat through with politicians pleading with the Reserve Bank not to raise rates, and never once have any of them wondered at its 'independence'. Likewise, the opposition will attack the government for getting into deficit by way of borrowing money from the Reserve, but never mention that the Reserve just pulled the money out of thin air. Even Ron Paul, the US's chief opponent of the Fed, will discuss inflation, the gold standard, all manner of things, but will never bag out usury as crap from the get-go. Not forgetting the left, where everyone from John Pilger to Naomi Klein will heap shit on the IMF and the World bank as wicked institutions but never wonder who owns them or whether the whole thing is a con.

And yes, I do get it that there are sundry other Big Lies entirely unconnected to banking, but for mine, none of them seem to be possessed of banking's ancient voodoo power. The central core to the banking Big Lie is the absurdly simple, and yet ultimately daft, idea that money is possessed of some kind of planet-like gravity and that merely by existing should attract more money as interest. For mine this is the heart of the matter stripped down to its rawest, most impenetrable kernel. From this flows everything else - fractional banking, reserve banking, monetary policy - and upon which such perfectly vicious entities as the IMF and the World Bank are then constructed.


Let's not forget that these other Big Lies are arguably connected to banking as well. Why did the world jewry declare war on Germany in 1933? 1933 was pre-Kristalnacht, pre-yellow stars, pre-Wannsee conference, pre-everything except Hitler's discussion of the Big Lie and his wresting of Germany's monetary policy from the Rothschilds and their very good friends. If we're prepared to acknowledge Judea's declaration of war on Germany, who but a fool wouldn't include follow-the-money in explaining it?

Following that, it's only a short step to viewing the current War On Terror in the same terms. We all know that the stories about Saudis and 911, Iran and nukes, the Taleban and opium, Pakistan and the Mumbai bombings, etc. etc. ad nauseam, are lies. And they're pretty big sure, but might they have something in common? A single, really Big Lie that explains all of them? Okay, how about the fact that all of these countries declare usury sinful and otherwise do not submit to a privately owned reserve banking system? It works for me.

Whatever you might think of Hitler, you'd have to admit that at the very least he did one worthy thing - he gave name to the Big Lie and explained the means by which it functions. But on this topic we can also fault him for not having explained clearly enough quite how big the Big Lie can be. Perhaps we can put that down to chaos theory (and its ideas on the infinite nature of scale) not having been invented yet? Regardless, in much the same way that 'big' is a concept that has no end, the Big Lie, under the auspices of its chief magicians, will always be greater than we who are used to little lies can imagine. Even as we shift our sense of scale and come to terms with the enormity of any given Big Lie, above it will be another.

Sure enough, the high priests of banking would have this seen as the ultimate voodoo spell, invested with numerological occult power. But this is arse-about. The fact that a Big Lie of this magnitude can be rendered hidden-profane-occult isn't proof of it's magical power. Quite the opposite, it's proof of its pathetic frailty - if it weren't hidden it would collapse in a screaming heap.


Back to our magician now - the easiest way to ruin his trick would be to turn the house lights on. 'Occult' means hidden - unhide what's hidden and the magic evaporates. Suddenly everything changes: the magician frozen on stage with a horrified expression on his face; the crowd's 'delight and amazement' gone like a puff of smoke; the whole tableau as un-magical as can be.

'Boo! Get Off!' says the crowd, as the well-deserved tomatoes fly.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

It's the bloody tuck-shop, I tell you!

I have a friend in Hawaii, with whom I cracked a joke about North Korea dropping a nuke on his arse. Ha ha ha, what a card. He wrote back shaking his fist at North Korea and I replied that I was actually just joking and that North Korea was precisely as likely to nuke Hawaii as the US military was to find WMD's in Iraq. And besides Hawaii is DU radioactive already and it was the US military what dunnit.


He conceded the point but came up with an analogy about North Korea being the weird trouble-making kid in school who still deserved to cop a beating if for no other reason than to get him to shut up and stop being a dickhead.

Cool. Why don't I run with the analogy?

The fact is that neither my school chum, nor anyone, has ever met the North Korean kid, nor even laid eyes on him. Every single thing we ever heard about him came from the gang of kids who run the school newspaper and the school website where they like to post little quicktimes they make with their handicams and laptops. And for anyone reading the paper or looking at the website it's transparently obvious that that little North Korean kid is a troublemaker who deserves whatever's coming to him. We pay no attention to the fact that the sum total of everything we know about him comes from the tiny cabal of kids who run the paper.

But the thing is that the kids who run the newspaper are buddies with the school bully who extorts everyone's lunch money. Sure enough, this is never mentioned in the school newspaper. The bully, by the way, doesn't actually front up and take your money. He's much more sophisticated than that. What with having compromising pictures of the headmaster, half the teachers, and the people who run the tuck-shop (cavorting with his sister Lolita) he takes a 50% cut of the lunch money after it goes through the tuck shop's till. No one in the school apart from the headmaster even knows that this goes on. Even the tuck-shop lady thinks the money goes into the school's 'general revenue'.


Instead everyone just complains about the high price of the pies and sausage rolls, and about how crummy and run down the school, and the grounds, and the facilities are. The teachers don't complain too much because the bully paid for special catering just for the teacher's room with real espressos and everything.

Whether the North Korean kid had figured any of this out or not, he decided not to participate. Instead he brought his own lunch from home (kimchi bibimbap, I expect) and thus didn't pay any money to the tuck-shop at all. Well that's him fucked. Truth be known the school bully doesn't really need the North Korean kid's money - he's already the richest guy at school. Hell, he's richer than the teachers! Put together! But that's not the point. Such independence cannot be allowed. Everyone must be kept in line and no alternative to the bully's tuck-shop game may be permitted. If everyone brought their own lunch, then where would he be?

At the behest of the bully, the North Korean kid is a constant target of the school newspaper. It's relentless and it's effective and everyone hates him. And of course the footy team hates him. They hate him as much as they hated that Iraqi kid. But even the cool kids hate him too after they saw that crazy puppet show quicktime that the newspaper kids made. It was called Footy Team America and, believe it or not, took the piss out of the jocks. It was as smutty as hell, complete with copulating puppets, and all the naughty rebellious kids thought it was great. "Ha ha ha, look at those stupid footy wankers!" they said. But they failed to notice that the jocks thought it was great as well. And the lot of them, bedazzled by the smut, thought nothing of the fact that the North Korean kid, along with all the Arab kids, were depicted as dickheads who deserved their beating at the hands of the idiotic but otherwise righteous jocks.


Don't forget, none of these kids has actually even met the North Korean kid, nor even heard a peep out of him. But that's how it was for all the foreign kids. If it wasn't for the newspaper no would even have known they were at the school. Take the kid from the CAR for instance. "Kid from the car? What car?" "No dickhead, not the car, the C-A-R, the Central African Replic. He sits at the back of the class, a few seats away from the Zimbabwe kid." Sure enough, since we all read the school newspaper, we know all about the Zimbabwe kid, who is a crazy little bastard. But truth is he's not half as fucked up as the CAR kid, but since the CAR kid eats at the tuck-shop (unlike the Zimbabwe kid), he ain't in the paper and no one knows who he is. Not forgetting of course that there's nothing like being hated by all the other kids to make a crazy kid crazier. Meanwhile the CAR kid hangs out at the tuck-shop and is 'normal', albeit invisible, and then the bell goes, and he's off home for his nightly self-mutilation frenzy, not that anyone cares.

As for the school paper, everyone admits it doesn't always get it right. Like that time when they had that big story about the Iraqi kid having a collection of guns, with his bedroom walls covered in pictures of other school kids with targets drawn on them. They made a little animated quicktime about him too. And yep, the cool kids thought is was funny as hell.


Finally when the footy team went to his house and absolutely kicked the living shit out of him, the school newspaper had a daily report about how we'd find those guns and pictures with targets any day now. The student president even appeared in the school paper to announce that they had found them: but it wasn't true and eventually the paper dropped the whole topic. "Anyway he's a spastic, look at the way he walks, and we're helping him to be normal." And each day the footy players dutifully drag him down to the tuck-shop so he can be normal and stop being such a fucking retard. And rotten ingrate that he is, he doesn't even thank them. Typical.

Mind you, no one had ever met the Iraqi kid face to face before they took to him with baseball bats, and it never occurred to them that before his kneecaps were smashed that he could walk just fine. Whatever. Astoundingly, a few kids actually wondered at it all and wondered if perhaps the gun story was bullshit and that really the whole thing was about something else? Perhaps the Iraqi kid made a pass at that Olive Oil chick? Who knows? We recall some vague thing hinting at something or other in the school newspaper. Anyway at least the little Iraqi spazmo is hanging out at the tuck-shop and being normal now.


And down at the tuck shop, pies in hand, the kids talk about the latest story about some other kid they never met - "Did you see that thing in the paper about that North Korean-Iranian-Russian-Chinese-Venezuelan kid? He has a basement full of crossbows! And his bedroom wall is covered in pix of kids with arrows through their heads! And he's a freak who dresses up as a lesbian! And he tortures cats with a Fisher-Price Play-Doh Factory! And, And, And..."

And were a kid in school to stand up and say that the school paper is bullshit and that no one has even met these kids, and that it's all about the tuck-shop lunches, everyone would laugh their arses off. "Tuck-shop lunches! Huh? What are you talking about? Like lunches have anything to do with anything?! You're just some vego poof who doesn't like pies! ♬Erh-oo-erh♫ Have some salad! Besides if there was a some crazy scam like this, we'd see it in the school paper! Duh!"

Friday, June 19, 2009

Smiling

Oh look, it's a picture of me, or a caricature at any rate. My friend Ledge did this in celebration of my mad Cossack beard. But never mind the beard, it's gone now and who cares?


It's the expression on my face that's interesting. Look at that furrowed brow. Ledge drew this just after he and I had come back from a cafe in Mullimbimby (aren't Australian place names great?) where I'd met an Englishman keen to impress upon me the wickedness of Jewish people. He'd given me a bunch of articles to read, all of which extolled the virtues of racial purity. Sure enough, I'm the wrong fellow for this and I threw his stuff out, and then Ledge and I sparked up and spent the rest of the afternoon inventing mad worlds and laughing our heads off. We like a laugh, Ledge and I.

But never mind the ageing stoners, right there in the picture is the battle for my face. As I slowly approach fifty and the wrinkles get deeper, it seems it's a race of who-gets-there-first between the crow's feet I have from smiling, and the Billy Joel-esque furrow I get from frowning. And I'm wondering if the frown isn't winning.

Lately over at Su's place I've been struck, or a chord has been, by Su's, um, I don't know, having had enough of it all? Would I be wrong in imagining that what Su describes in this piece, followed by this (as a bookend of sorts) are variations of what we're all going through? Spending every day reading of the stepped-in-blood activities of the death cult PTB really does do your head in. 'Basta!' as the Italians say, 'Enough! I get it already.' Honestly, don't these self-impressed fuckers ever get sick of it? Their relentless revelling in filth and degradation, and all to keep themselves in Savile Row suits, super yachts, and rape victims. God help me - I'm sick of them, and I'm sick of their shit.

And my face tells me daily. The muscles through my jaw, temples, and forehead ache from the perpetual tension. I've mentioned before I have bad teeth. But they usedn't to be. They used to be the best teeth money could buy until I ground them down. And now every morning I wake up with an exhausted face.

And lately I've realised that the tension is there during the waking hours too. And whilst the answer is as simple as relaxing my muscles, this is easier said than done. I relax my jaw and within seconds I find it's back to its default 'jut' mode. It's like pushing water uphill, a Sisyphean battle.

Funnily enough, martial arts is, amongst other things, the mastery of relaxation. It took me years to understand even the basics of how to relax my limbs, and the variety of internal tension required for a good stance. And just lately the words of one of the instructors came back to me - 'Your face should have a slight smile on it'. I didn't think about it at the time since I was too busy with my hips, thighs, back and shoulders, but it's a thing worth keeping in mind. If anyone wants to know what the smile should look like exactly, just check a Theravadan statue of the Buddha.


With this in mind I remembered a documentary I saw about a Japanese Buddhist sect, wherein the practitioners would ritualistically laugh together. The priest declared that happiness makes you laugh and laughing makes you happy. And sure they looked like a pack of weirdos, but that's beside the point. The nerve pathways transmitting electrical signals from the brain to the muscles aren't a one-way street. The stimulus that drives the response can likewise be driven by that response. It's a bit like how sexual arousal will dilate the pupils, but dilated pupils will cause sexual arousal. This is why romantic dinners are candle-lit, and if you want to get laid, you don't go to McDonalds. Well, that and a thousand other reasons, ha ha.

But to hell with McDonalds, I've been smiling. And it's spooky how happy I feel. What starts out feeling slightly false, takes on a life of its own. Within seconds the smile ceases to be false and I feel good. And whilst this isn't about to instantly undo years of muscle memory and the tension it brings, it's easily better than me thinking 'relax' and then forgetting again one second later.

---

Sure enough, weltschmerz wouldn't be weltschmerz if one could knock it on the head merely by smiling. But it's a good start. A trip of a thousand miles starts with a single step. What with having had to relocate my internet venue to the next town over, all manner of things, of paths to be travelled, have revealed themselves to me. Down the road from the library is a yoga/meditation centre. In the other direction is an art supply shop. And as soon as I can find a camera store, I'll get back into photography.

I'm not about to abandon writing. It's far too much fun, and besides, I like reading my own stuff, ha ha. But that doesn't mean I have to spend all day head down in the laptop buried in misery. Not forgetting that anyone suffering from weltschmerz, overcome with dismay and despair, is doing precisely what they're meant to. The death cult laughs in derision. Yeah well, they can go fuck themselves. I refuse to behave as they expect.

I'll look at the world with my eyes open. I'll acknowledge the wickedness that exists. And then I'll respond in the manner of my own choosing. To hell with letting the world eat me alive. Rather, I'm going to view the world as my oyster, and then let's see who eats whom, ha!

Monday, June 15, 2009

Selflessness as a martial mindset

All behaviour lies on a continuum with selfishness at one end and selflessness at the other. Selflessness is superior to selfishness - this is self evident and inarguable. All sins are by definition selfish acts, and all virtues are likewise selfless. Only by the most perverse cavilling can selfish acts be defined as virtues. With selflessness as an ideal this cavilling can always be torn to shreds. If attacked from this angle no argument in favour of selfishness can be sustained.

Me, I think that this is bullet-proof. But, no one much cares for it. I can understand the temptation to write the whole thing off. Since the word selflessness appears nowhere in any public discourse, indeed is pre-emptively shot down in endless discussions that are variations of what's-in-it-for-me, the thought occurs that perhaps the whole thing is a silly idea, not really worth considering.


Frankly this is arse-about. Honestly, if selflessness was some silly thing, silly like Paris Hilton, the media would be all selflessness, all the time. Silly is what the bloc-media does best. I'm going to view it the other way around. Selflessness is absent from the general discourse because it is a thing to be feared. Not by us of course. Rather it's feared by the death cult PTB.

Think about interest, usury, money-as-debt, and the reserve banking system. The truth of this arrangement, ie. that it perversely brings no benefit to anyone but the absolute top of the pyramid with impoverishment for the rest, isn't utterly absent from all forums of discussion - the education system, the government, and the media - by accident. It's absent because if it was common knowledge the whole game would be over. Which is to say, it's absent because it's feared. No mistake, the death cult PTB are, beneath their smug, expensively coiffed exteriors, driven by fear.


Usury is one thing but selflessness is another. Usury is merely a means of delivering us to our fate. It's the truck that drives us to the abattoir; it's the conveyor belt; it's the rotating knives. A widespread discussion of usury would deliver into our hands the means by which we could take our sabots to the truck, the belt, the knives. A discussion of selflessness on the other hand is a discussion about the nature of this carnivorous cannibalism in toto. Certainly it addresses the means by which we are sliced and diced, but it goes further and attacks the whole concept of us being eaten at all, and suggests that perhaps we might find some other way of doing things.

Thus a discussion couched in terms of selflessness is a threat not so much to any particular tactic or strategy but rather a threat to the whole self-definition that drives the creation of the strategies themselves. It's huge, it's dangerous, and that's why it's nowhere.

---

Certainly our death cult rulers do not wish to have their actions viewed or discussed in this fashion, and their fear of this will be enough to ensure that selflessness is not in our lexicon. But this threat-nature of selflessness is only half the picture. The flipside of it all is that (forgetting all of the above momentarily) any people who only know, indeed can only think in terms of, me-me-me are far more easily dealt with. Rather than the bundle, they are the individual sticks - easily broken one by one. Thus the absence of selflessness in our lexicon is an absence of unity, or strength if you prefer. A ubiquitous mindset of me-me-me is the death cult's sword and shield both. And sure enough, for us selflessness can serve both these purposes also. It can be a defence and an offence. Quite right too, since as Bruce Lee declared, if you get it right they should be the same thing.


"Yeah okay nobody, brilliant, and another picture of Bruce Lee, but what are we supposed to do with this?" The answer to this is nothing, or nothing in particular. View it as a lens, a means of looking at the world. View as a foundation, a thing upon which to stand. View it as a martial arts form, a sense of balance, force, and direction that has no end in and of itself, but is merely applied to every physical, or in this case mental, action. Frankly, it's nothing more than mindfulness.

---

So as to cut off imagined counter arguments, let me say there is nothing to fear from it. It doesn't require you to be penniless, clad in sackcloth and ashes, an ascetic in a cave. Do that if you like, but don't imagine that it's demanded of you. There is nothing wrong with having stuff, but stuff-for-the-sake-of-it is idiotic, and obviously so. Stuff of this nature is the chunk of metal on which the oxide of fear and desire will form. But were you to look at your stuff and ask yourself how much utility it provides, and for how many people, it couldn't hurt. Van der Rohe's principle of 'less is more' is a design maxim, sure, but it's also a philosophical statement. Stuff will not bring you happiness and we all know it. On the other hand, it will bring you fear.


Selflessness is less about stuff than it is about the shedding of fear and desire. It's a mistake to assume otherwise. And as sure as eggs is eggs, the death cult media machine would, can, and does spend all its time and energy ensuring that you'll make precisely that mistake. It runs the gamut from Hollywood's Gordon Gecko absurdly declaring that greed is good to every other TV commercial telling you that "you deserve it." I don't know about you, but when I hear witless flattery like this, I know I'm being bullshitted to.

---

So our feet are on solid ground, our eyes are clear, our hand is open - now what? Now we take it to them. Ideas count - the death cult doesn't control the media for no reason. The battle is, and always has been, for the mind. All we need to do is offer an alternative that isn't yet more bullshit. And that's what selflessness is - an alternative to everything wicked and fucked up in this world.

There is no point opposing wickedness with some half-baked variation of its own theme. Opposing one fellow's version of me-me-me with your own version of it is, I don't know... idiotic? In a fucked up world it's just more of the same. Likewise, to replace one definition of us-and-them with another cannot and will not succeed. Brand X racism is not a better product than Brand Y racism. They're both shit products and to hell with the both of them.


Like it matters whether the union organisers in South America that were killed, were shot by death squads that belonged to coke or pepsi. Who gives a shit? Sure enough, preferring your own brand of racism to someone else's is like arguing over whether coke tastes better than pepsi, with the death squads neither here nor there. Fuck snipping around the edges, why not go big-picture and condemn it in its entirety?

There's no point opposing evil with evil. We are not members of a hate group. We are members of a love group (as cheesy as that sounds). We have nothing that can be misrepresented. The last thing we'll do is charge into a Holocaust museum with a gun. A tuppence for such thoughtless stupidity. In the battle for ideas, that old man just scored a point for the opposition.

It's the false ideas (otherwise known as delusions) that need to be smashed, not the purveyors of them. Without their delusions the wicked of this world are nothing. Shoot the wicked and the delusions live on. And whilst you can smash one delusion with another, indeed the history of the world has been one episode of this after another, it will never solve anything. The only thing that stands clean, untarnished, and unimpeachable is selflessness.

In this battle, selflessness has the ability to be the sword, the shield, the tactics, the strategy, the choice of the battleground, and even the morale of the troops and the banner they hold high. Does that sound like overblown bullshit? No need to take my word for it. The death cult PTB has already told us they fear it by disappearing the least mention of it from our vernacular / armoury.


Whilst they might do their best to have us forget that word, and then to substitute their own words (and thus fight the battle they know they can win) - they cannot disappear the thing itself. Selflessness is timeless, indestructible, impervious to whatever the motherfuckers bring.

If we boil it all down, and strip away the distractions, the only weapon the death cult has is fear and desire. Between that and selflessness, only one of them is worth having. Between delusion and seeing clearly; between the self and the all; between fear and desire and peace, love, and understanding, anyone who isn't bullshit has already arrived at the right place. Not forgetting of course, that wherever you go, there you are.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

flu-like symptoms... must remember... to panic...

Today's Question -
The difference between swine flu and regular flu is... ?
(answer below)



Yep, I have 'flu-like symptoms'. Whilst I haven't been to the doctor (and nor shall I bother), I'm just going to take it as read that I have the dread lurgy swine flu. Dread lurgy or no, it seems the only sensible response is to wig out and go completely batshit. Mind you, that's not to say that I can't wail, gnash my teeth, run melancholy mad, and type at the same time. With my brain as Pandora's box, it seems the only thing left is the autonomic qwerty function.

I expect you're probably sitting there thinking, 'Wah! Nobody you are really great!'. Well, yes I am, and modest with it, but you might want to think again. Because if you've read this far, and you're not wearing a mask, you're infected too. Sucked in! You didn't know that you can catch swine flu merely by reading an infected blog did you? Well you can. What with running melancholy mad, I figure if I'm going to die screaming (and typing), I may as well take you all with me. Don't argue, the Jim Jones logic is iron clad. Anyway, you've only a few hours left and as soon as you've finished here you should rush out and get that CD of Larry King reading the old testament.

You, me, Larry King, we're all fucked. It's a pandemic! BTW - the word pandemic is a combination of 'dem' which means 'people' and 'panic' which means 'panic'. Therefore, everyone must go bonzo zonko. I certainly am. Right this minute, I am at the public library nude from the waist down with a bowl of blancmange clapped on my head singing the Yah Di Bucketty song. As I type, sure enough. In between times I periodically yell, 'Back off man! I've got swine flu and I'm not afraid to cough!"

Seriously though, swine flu (otherwise known by its kosher name of H1N1) is so singular and horrific that everything we ever knew about flu, or illness, or anything at all, must now be thrown out the window. If swine flu makes no sense, then clearly it's your common sense that's coming up short.

There is only one way to view swine flu and that is with your brain locked in a paroxysm of fear. Which goes some way in explaining how otherwise sensible people like Lee Lin Chin on Australia's SBS news thought it right to declare that the swine flu toll in Australia now stands at 1400 or so. Um, Lee Lin, as much as I admire that Hong Kong private school clipped enunciation of yours, your English actually leaves a lot to be desired. This on account of the fact that 'toll' means 'number of dead people'. As you and I both know, the actual 'toll' of swine flu in Australia is 'zero'. Or to express it as a percentage, that would be, um... zero.



Apparently, the concept of zero was a very late arrival in the field of mathematics. Funnily enough, I just recently saw a documentary by Terry Jones (my second favourite Monty Python member) that charted the whole history of zero. But it seems that Jones failed to consider another theory as to why it took so long for humans to get their heads around the concept. What if the very thought of zero filled the human mind with terror and gave people a variety of brain freeze? That would certainly explain why every single person on the telly here, keen to tell us how big a deal swine flu is, baulks at mentioning that not one single person has died from it.

Okay, okay, people have died from swine flu. What's the toll in the US now? Mysteriously it's no longer being mentioned in the news. Somehow I suspect that it's not as high as the 30,000 or so who die in every other regular flu season. Would I be right in thinking that the US toll isn't so much in the tens of thousands, or thousands, or hundreds, but actually in the tens? The low tens? Funnily enough this would qualify swine flu as a something very special - the least fatal flu ever.

Oh, wait, that spot would have to belong to bird flu. Anyone remember that? It was going to kill us all. It was such a big deal that when I went to Shanghai for a job at the height of the bird flu scare, everyone thought I was crazy - even the Chinese, ha ha. I remember sitting in a Hainan-Chicken restaurant with a dozen guys all keen to know if I wasn't scared of catching bird flu. I merely asked them if they knew anyone with bird flu, or even if they knew anyone who knew anyone with bird flu. Ha, a table full of Chinese boys scratching their heads. Perhaps bird flu is bullshit, boys. You ever think of that?



And then there was the head of Vietnam's bird-flu programme who declared that the bird flu 'cure', Tamiflu, was precisely as efficacious as a placebo and, to all intents and purposes, completely worthless. Bloody foreigners! What would they know? Best we pay them no attention. I wonder if Donald Rumsfeld, a major shareholder in Gilead, the makers of Tamiflu, got on the phone and had that tiresome gook killed? Says our Donald - "We'll teach him to forget who won the war!"

Never mind those worthless foreign jibber-jabberers, how about that virologist at the Australian National University? He declared the swine flu virus was man-made, the product of a lab. That story made the Melbourne Age and then sank without a trace. Quite right too. Bloody experts! What would they know? As for his theorising that the virus must have escaped from the lab accidentally, um... yeah, it's not a complete impossibility I suppose. But between that and the virus being deliberately released by murderous motherfuckers, it's pretty long odds. Hey Prof! Stick to the viruses mate. Leave the theorising about murderousness, or lack thereof, to people who don't have their heads glued to a microscope.

Like Aangirfan! Sure enough, everyone's favourite school girl collective had this thing pegged as a psy-op on day one. And given the inverse ratio of hype to actuality you'd have to say the Caledonian convent crew are right. But a psy-op to what end? As yet another episode in the perpetual instillment of fear, it's looking like something of a washout. With the zero death rate here, Australians (or those who don't have an autocue in front of them) aren't taking much of it seriously. The TV news briefly carried a story of people having 'swine flu parties', à la kids and measles. Sure enough some party-pooper health official drone declared that this was a bad idea. Good luck with that, mate! Between you and zero, only one of them isn't bullshit.

But wondering at the psy-op, it seems the question is - have the death cult PTB got it wrong? Were they hoping that more would die? Right this minute, are the creators of this virus being scolded? "You told us that this would have a 25% mortality rate! What do we pay you for? We'd be better off with monkeys!" Or perhaps the psychological warfare mob are copping it? "You told us that there would be mass panic! What do we pay you for, etc. etc."

Or perhaps this dip in public credibility is intended - so that when the predicted (which is to say 'prepared') mutation arrives and the bodies start piling up, the effect will be even stronger? "See, we warned you about this and you didn't take us seriously and you were off having your silly parties while we were busy building internment camps and now you've only yourselves to blame if you're behind barbed wire."

But who knows how all this will go? Not me. All I know is that I have the flu. Okay, so let's times me by 1400 and we've got a bigger number. Now times it by zero. Hmm... 1400 x 0 = 0. Put this with zero WMD's, and with zero al qaeda, and perhaps we can make a rule? Nobody's media rule - Media hype is in inverse proportion to reality. Which is to say, the bigger the story and the more people there are intent on telling us that we must be scared, the greater the likelihood, and degree, of bullshit. Ha! Never mind the bowl of blancmange, I'm a bloody genius!



Answer to today's question - Beats me!

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Yeah, Yeah, Tiananmen Square

It was twenty years ago today, that Deng Xiaoping told the band to play. Rat-a-tat-tat went the tuneless ditty.


Those bastards! Cue the fist shaking! Here we are twenty years later and the Western bloc-media is still outraged. A talking head, with his sad face on, reads the autocue to tell us of Chinese villainy. Cut to a candle-lit memorial in Hong Kong. Cut to a dissident who now lives in the West. Cut to library footage of a fellow in China who was in jail. Are you outraged yet? If you are, you should call the media. What with the complete and utter lack of interest of the part of the Chinese people themselves in embracing their victimhood, it seems it's up to everyone else to do it for them. Anyone who can think of a stunt that will make the Chinese government look bad will in all likelihood get airtime.



Weirdly, the idea of jobs being exported to China is here turned on its head. Why aren't the mainland Chinese doing this themselves? Why do we have to do it for them? Between sending film crews to Tiananmen Square for a non-musical remake of The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (ha ha ha, this critic raved!), and some Chinese punter's mobile phone footage of a riot, one of them fills the brief and costs peanuts.


So where is this footage? Why aren't the Chinese people demonstrating? 'Because they're oppressed and censored,' says the Western bloc-media. 'My arse,' says I. Just so you know, I never met a Chinese person who didn't have a mobile phone with camera. All of them are on the net and they madly email each other all day long. If there were protests they would be filmed. And if they were filmed they'd be emailed out. This is simple and obvious stuff and the Western media stringers in China know this perfectly well.



The simple fact is, there are no protests in China because no one gives a shit. Not if the twentieth anniversary is anything like the tenth, that is. It just so happens that I was in Beijing for the tenth anniversary in 1999. Back then, what with me being the clever Time Magazine reading Occidental, I was curious to see what form the Chinese people's anger would take. Talk about beg the question! The anger took no form at all because there wasn't any. I couldn't find a single person whose reaction was anything beyond wondering what they were going to have for lunch. Hmm... Hunan, Xian, or Sichuan?


Dont' think that they don't get it. They get it - they were there. They know that the original protest was the most rampant shitfight imaginable. Sure it was thrilling at first, but as the weeks passed and the trains kept rolling in from the outer provinces (where our lunch cuisines came from), disgorging endless thousands, the whole thing went to hell. Lunch was one thing, but clueless, Johnny-come-lately bumpkins who didn't know the party was over was something else.



Frankly the government was damned if it did, damned if it didn't. It could talk with the leaders, make concessions, thank everyone for coming, whatever - none of the new arrivals wanted to know about it. They hadn't spent days in arduous train travel just to turn around and go home again because some what-the-hell-would-they-know Beijingers had made a deal. And yep, finally the tanks rolled down Chang'an avenue.


Not forgetting of course that more people died in Gaza lately than died in Tiananmen. And does anyone think that the religiously sanctioned, racist slaughter in Gaza will be honoured with ten-year / twenty-year commemorations? We roll our eyes - fat chance of that. It will be dissolved down to the same word-recognition level that the Nakba now gets. "The Nak-what? What is he talking about?" Exactly.


Meanwhile it seems there's two Chinas. There's the China as imagined by the Jewish bloc-media. This is a very terrible place where an oppressed and beset people lead lives of fear. And then there's the China I went to. In that China, there is no fear. None. Nor is there any oppression. None. In fact I'd declare that the people in China are freer and less fearful than the people of the West.



Okay, okay, I will admit that the majority of my time was spent in the megapolises of Beijing and Shanghai with side trips to Xian, Wuhan, and Hainan. Everyone I knew was middle class. They had been poor but they were no longer. I did encounter farmers who were poor but I never discussed their oppression with them. Really, they were more interested in the fact that I rolled my own cigarettes. Regardless of this, if anyone wants to offer counter propositions about how China is so too a terrible place, I'll happily turn the tables and compare it to the US and we'll see who trumps whom.


With the US leading the West into its jackbooted future of tazers and torture, if the wicked Oriental other didn't exist, the bloc-media would have had to have invented it anyway. And sure enough, they did invent it. And it's on TV right now. But the only thing they're telling you about is themselves. Always this way...