Tuesday, January 15, 2008

I'm talking to you


As ever your insight (last comments) is spooky. I AM silly. Everything I'm doing here is a waste of time. It's just me shouting to an empty wilderness. I'm not saying I don't enjoy you, Tony and the odd anonymous dropping in and keeping me company. I do. But a wilderness with three people in it is still a wilderness.

Fact is, I imagine in my head that I'm following Pilger's dictum of 'speaking truth to power' - albeit in a socially unacceptable way - and doing so to a power that not even the otherwise fearless Pilger will address. It's a fact that simply acknowledging these paragons of hubris renders one socially acceptable. So if I must be socially unacceptable I shall go full-tilt. I know that what I write will not appeal to anyone. But there's a reason for that. I am only nominally addressing the 'masses'. (the masses, ha ha). Pilger speaks to power 'slantwise', and good on him. What I write is directly for the 'benefit' of those who view themselves as above their fellow man. I am the tiniest insect voice in their ear, a splash of water by way of the smallest raindrop, an air molecule that is just outside of the climate-control of their air-conditioned comfort.

But do they really hear? Who knows. I have no idea how many hits my blog gets. I haven't been able to figure that out yet. But I do know that my nearly information-free profile page has taken 80 hits in the short month that the blog has been up. Who are these people? I have no idea. Me, I surf a lot. And I almost never read the profile. But some people do, obviously, and in numbers far out-stripping those who leave comments. I'm not paranoid. I have no fear. I just wonder at things.

I wondered at the leviathan MSM - a spectacular and insanely complex edifice employing countless people in countless locations on every continent - and how they sing with one voice, everyone on the same songsheet. It's almost like every star in the universe twinkled at the same rhythm. It's what did my head in in 2002 running up to the war. Realising the impossibility of the media was my red pill, ha ha.

And how is it possible that whatever ensures that the MSM sings with one voice, would not pay attention to the MSM's only competition, the net? How could the one and only voice let live another voice singing a discordant counterpoint?

Before execution comes intelligence. I consider it a certainty that money, resources and personnel are devoted to tracking those voices on the net. Before anyone rolls their eyes and says that it's too huge, forget all the Britney sites, the recipes, the 'ball in groin' videos, all the idiot teenage shit. To ignore this 99% and just zero in on the voices raised in opposition is perfectly do-able. The people who own the reserve banks of the world need merely pay the pennies required to fund however many people it takes. Frankly, five full-time people could comfortably do every site linked to by Mike Rivero. Hell, I read most of them daily in a couple of hours and I ain't even trying.

Not forgetting, there's a legion of trolls out there happy to do it for free. The early days I spent on indymedia were eye-opening. So busy and devoted were these people that you had to wonder how they had time to make a living. Invariably the first three comments on any post belonged to them. They'd usually hit the mark within five minutes of posting. Their tireless blank-eyed zealotry was educational.

So. If I were a bookie I'd be giving the shortest odds imaginable on the likelihood of those very people reading these very words. Since I'm possessed of no discernible charisma, ala Les, and shall never sway any masses, I've chosen to speak to them. Perhaps other people do this too. I have no idea. Perhaps they have better things to do with their time, ha ha ha.

The people I'm talking to are pathetic underlings, sure, but since my voice will reach no higher, they will have to do. I am doing my limited best to afflict them with (guffaws of laughter) a truth. I wish them to know that I will not buy their line, will not confirm their self-impressed delusions and will never acknowledge their genius, their superiority or any other goddamned thing. I will afflict them with a view that is at odds with their delusion and at odds with what they've been told about the people who oppose them. I am not that cardboard-cutout guy. I will do so publicly, and in terms that render impotent their standard cardboard-cutout weapons of defence. They will never be able to accuse me of being racist. I consider myself unassailably anti-racist. Nor can they accuse me of envy or any other self-serving shit. They have nothing I desire, nor any ability I would choose to emulate, nor any personality trait I consider admirable. I only admire those that shed delusion.

Sorry for the heading annemarie. Ever ambiguous, me, ha ha. I'm just making clear, ambiguously, what I'm certain the aforementioned fuckers have pretty much already figured out. And you never know, it's not impossible that I just might smash through one person's life-long inculcation and help them to (groan, here he goes again) cast off fear, realise the wrongness of their actions and wake up. Sure, in the face of thousands of years of finely honed, near perfect 'us-as-gods-them-as-beasts' paradigm, success is hugely unlikely. And when faced with a task way beyond me - I choose to be silly!


Anonymous said...

I love this film
I'm a sucker for Demi Moore's big... husky voice

Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I think I'm entitled to them.
Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I want the truth!
Jessep: You can't handle the truth!

A Few Good Men
written by Aaron Sorkin

We live in hope.

annemarie said...

quick comment, cause I'm in reading mode at the moment, but will return to say more...

I once heard that Jesus was referred to as "the great silly one", methinks it was by Pontius Pilate. Can't be absolutely sure though since I've not been able to relocate the audio-file on which I took notes. But I certainly didn't imagine it or dream it up. I heard it. And I think it was on or via Whitley Streiber's web site. A site which I didn't visit regularly, and not at all anymore.Especially since I found second-hand, and read a book of his on aliens. Blecch. Gave me such a bad case of the heebie-jeebies, not the aliens (per se)but more Streiber's take/feelings on them and their mission itself. Bottom line, he was encouraging humans to embrace these (creepy) extra-terrestrials, to surrender our minds or something like that, to them. WTF! It reaked I tell you. Stank of mind-control, manipulative shite. Said I was going to make this a quick/short comment. doh!

My main point was that about JC being called the great, silly one. I found that astonishing and fascinating. And you know what else, it made perfect sense to me.

Think about it, if any of the Bible stuff/stories (of JC in particular) are true, and I feel that some are, or if they're not literal truth, then they're based in truth (reality)... then it makes perfect sense that JC would be a silly one, wouldn't it. I mean he was the most loving, most giving, most healthy, well-rounded person you could imagine. He'd definitely have to be very playful, silly too, now wouldn't he then.

I'm referring to that stuff about how the bible writer/s tell us to be "as little children". And little children are truly silly. Innocent, and silly. Of course that's not all that they are. But that's a big part of what they are....Before adults (or the rest of the grown-up world) smash and corrupt or break them.

And compare that childlike silliness to adult stuffiness, seriousness, or what I call graveness (gravity). Which btw is a word related to yup, the grave. Isn't that where we bury the dead bodies? hmmm

There's a time for gravity / seriousness too, of course. And I'm quite serious about this matter. The entire world is upside-down, inside-out, in turmoil and chaos and dread because the adults (the self-impressed, as you perfectly put it) have broken down the children. The child-like spirit of silliness. Which is as essential to life as breathing. They do it because someone else (one or multiple ones) broke their spirits. Instead of resisting, instead of steadfastly pursuing love (and health and enlightenment), they have pursued revenge. Loser bastards!

Most adults are, in my experience, childish. Not childlike. They take themselves too damned seriously. And then they wreak havoc on the world. They do. They aren't childlike enough by far. They desperately need to lighten up. Literally. And then perhaps the spiritual and other enlightenments, and all the delights that are readily and widely available to all of us (aka happiness) ensue.

I trust that you get the gist of this. I feel that I'm all over the map. Maybe, maybe not?

Soooo, your just "using" me, eh? As a prop, no less. LOLLL First time I saw that I thought, so this is what 15 seconds of "fame" feels like. ahh-hahaaha

I don't feel at all used by you. ;)

But, others have tried to use me before, and sometimes for far worse things than a prop. Doesn't really matter though. Was their mistake, their misfortune or loss. And I turned out just fine. Re-newed and improved! haha. Joke's on them. Comme toujours. ;)

Anyhow, I love silliness. Better by far than idiocy, if you ask me.

...will get back to this later.

nobody said...

Ha! Bravo the both of you,

Tony, mate, you nailed it. Hollywood films, which is to say Jewish films, are endlessly full of perfectly telling metaphors and messages which their self-obsessed creators are utterly aware of. Each one is an in-joke at the expense of the people who don't get them. Maybe the ultimate is The Usual Suspects. But someone else may have an even better example. Even that title is an in-joke, it doesn't make sense otherwise. The Matrix for instance is actually a whole other mixed metaphor. I might do it later...

Otherwise annemarie, me and Jesus! Yay! Ha ha ha. And you're all over the shop? You should see me. I'm as focused as a laser shot at a disco-ball.

And yep, I get what you're on about. As always. The Fool, mate. Lear. The fool didn't exist for no reason. He's like the Chorus but same-same-different (as they say in Thailand). He operates under a different set of rules which function to allow him to say the otherwise unsayable.