The Coffee Rules > Falsity As Totality > The Big Nothing

Dad - "Sam and Marg are coming over so they'll probably want coffee."

Nobby - "Er... possibly... I guess."

Dad - "Well, is it alright if I have a coffee?"

Nobby (rolling eyes) - "Oh for fuck's sake. You don't have to ask permission to have a coffee. The coffee is in there, the pot is in there, you just go and make one. I've shown you how to do it any number of times. We don't need any silly games. I've told you, I don't care what you do - you may do anything you like, go make a coffee, whatever - but just include me out of the silly games."

Dad (with a look of cold hatred in his face) - "It's not a game."

Nobby - "It is a game. If it has rules and it has roles it's a game. What are the rules? Okay, here they are, I'll tell you - The Coffee Rules:

1. (nodding head with happy face): You really, really like having a coffee.
2. (shaking head with sad face): You can't make a coffee.
3. (nodding head): Nobby can make a coffee.
4. (shaking head): You can't ask Nobby for a coffee if it's only for you.
5. (nodding head): You can ask for a coffee if it's being made for other people.

"Thus (finger goes in the air as dominoes of realisation fall), if Nobby is making coffee for other people... it's alright for me to mention it... and since I am mentioning it, if I ask very, very politely and meekly so that no one could possibly object... and besides which, I'm not asking for me, I'm asking for other people... then I can have a coffee! Yay! Victory in the Pacific!

"God spare me. And that's the coffee game. It and a thousand other variations, always this way. And for yourself within the logic of the game, the question 'Is it alright if I have a coffee?' makes sense. But if you're me and you think the game is bullshit to begin with, the question is absurd. And it is absurd. It's precisely as absurd as 'Is it alright if I turn on the TV?', and 'Is it alright if I go to bed?', and 'Is it alright if I don't finish my meal?'. And we know it's absurd because: What if I was to answer no? No, you must stay up all night staring at a black television forcing yourself to eat the cold congealed remains of your dinner. Yeah right, what obvious bullshit.

"But never mind all that. I'm going to short circuit the game. Come with me, you're going to make yourself a coffee. You make yourself twenty cups of tea a day and making coffee is no different. You're perfectly capable. You can do one, you can do the other. Let's do it."


After a momentary pause wherein he wonders if he can sulk his way out of it without looking like a complete dickhead (and quickly deciding no), he gets up and under my instruction makes himself a coffee. It takes a couple of minutes and is slightly more complicated than turning on a light switch but not much.

Shortly thereafter Sam and Marg arrive, and with his coffee in front of him, and to prove he's not a bullshit artist and how necessary and right the game was, he makes a big fuss of asking them if they want a coffee. The prospect of further game playing and point scoring is cruelly crushed when they say no. Cue the eye-roll. And without looking, I know for a cold hard certainty that the old man's head is now running with pointless calculations for how he might have achieved the end result of having a coffee made for him in spite of no one else wanting one and all the while still conforming to the rules of the game. Games is all there is.


I also know with equal certainty that he will never make a coffee for himself ever again. Here, as in the real world, there is no greater crime than the calling of a game. The old man would rather do without coffee for the rest of his life, indeed never mention the accursed drink again, as long as we never go anywhere near a conversation that may involve his falsity being called out. The only thing that will put that look of hatred on his face is having a game named.

And in this regard he's nothing special. We see it all the time. Every idiotic charade will take place in order to preserve the sanctity of falsity uber alles. We will turn ourselves inside-out, say any idiotic thing, declare black to be white, whatever, and all to avoid acknowledging the mind buggering breadth and depth of the lie.

---

I realise now that when I wrote that Big Lie thing a while back I made a mistake. I declared that the great sin being protected in the bullshit discussion about Hitler and the Big Lie was usury. It isn't. Usury is merely a mechanism under the overarching ne plus ultra sin of falsity itself. The arse-about crap surrounding what we call Hitler's Big Lie exists in order to protect falsity as totality. This is the topic that may not be broached. Everything underneath it is effectively second fiddle. Even the sleek viciousness of usury must kneel at the altar of falsehood.


Whether you want to use the term or not, it's all about the continuum. That's the selfishness / selflessness continuum at the top of the page there. It's un-patented so anyone may feel free to steal it and do whatever they like with it. And ever predictable yours truly, there's nothing I like better than throwing the topic-du-jour up against the continuum to see which of them comes out of it alive.

Here we plunge into circular logic but never mind, let's just go with it. When juxtaposed against the unarguable rightness of selflessness, the concomitant 'wrongness' of selfishness becomes too obvious for itself. Further, as one travels in the wrong direction on the continuum the more obvious this becomes. Thus: the mind set that says that an accumulation of chateaux, yachts with helicopters, and under-age sex-slaves is more important than the right of entire towns not to be fire-bombed must come from a false view of the self. It must. And we're at a truly fundamental level here - the level of the self versus the not-self. This is the anti-buddha sure, and such an black beast must view himself, and everything not-him (which is to say 'all of creation') through a lens of falsity. Falsity comes first and foremost, the thing without which there is nothing, not even the definition.


It's not for no reason that one of Satan's titles is the Prince of Lies. Such a personification could never be called the Prince of Usury, or Theft, or any other lesser sin. Each of those is merely a mechanism under the totality of falsity, the falsity that comes with denying the continuum. And for anyone who wants to point to beasts and the reality of their behaviour, go and do that thing - tell yourself you're a beast and prove my point for me while you're at it. Back to Satan now: in naming the personification of evil, only one sin was ever going to cut the mustard and that was lying.

---

In the beginning was the word. Yeah, right. What are the odds that that word was a lie? With falsity at the heart of things I'd say it's somewhere in the vicinity of a certainty. And in today's discussion we take the word away (word = thought = conversation = philosophy = every goddamn thing) and what is there? What of a person is left? What of a people is left? With the lies so big, so numerous, so total, to call the lie leads where? A discussion like this of such a totality, whether for the macro or the micro, is a discussion of the self, an attack at the heart, a thing that cannot be permitted.

---

Let justice be done though the heavens fall. I admit that there's not much space in that expression for the micro but what if we substitute 'let the truth be told' for 'let justice be done'? That works doesn't it? So let's carry on - Why do we hear that phrase but never see it take place? Kevin Costner said it in JFK and what happened? Nothing - Tommy Lee Jones walked. Was anyone surprised? Of course not. The heavens cannot fall. Everything must be done to ensure that that doesn't happen.

Not forgetting the irony of course: there is no heaven. As if let justice be done though the heavens fall could escape the totality of the lie. In the beginning was the lie remember? The lie, the totality, cannot be called. God forbid. Without it we are nothing. Without it God is nothing. No word, no God, no nothing.

Excellent. Let's do it - Nothing Here We Come. There's no point being bloody-minded if you're not going to go all the way. Let's strip it to the core until nothing is left. Fuck heaven.

Everything is gonna burn.

We'll all take turns.

I'll get mine too.

Whatever the fuck it is, this thing we've constructed, this bullshit self, we'll burn it all away. Send that metaphoric monkey back to his bullshit heaven. Fingers crossed there's nothing left except for whatever there was before the word, before the lie. God knows what that'll look like. A man sitting under a Bodhi tree perhaps. Or is that too romantic? How about a burned out eucalyptus with the smell of charcoal hanging heavy?

The tax file number, the family name, the christian name, all gone with nobody recognisable left behind.

This is all bullshit of course. None of it makes a lick of sense. But since when did that ever stop anyone?

The Useful Person

"Did you enjoy the trip to Brisbane?"

"It was good. The high point was when we were sitting in the waiting area for the CT scan thingy at the hospital and the old man was filling out the form and he asked me what the date was. And it was funny he asked me that because when he's at home he asks me what day it is every single day. Sometimes several times a day. In spite of the fact that the newspaper is always right there in front of him face up with the date prominent, he never bothers looking. Instead he asks me what day it is and I always lean across and say, 'The newspaper's here. What does it say?' And I point at the date and say, 'Oh look it's Thursday.' And he always says, 'Oh right,' and there we are, another conversation dealt with.

"So we're in the reception area in the hospital and he's there filling out his form and he asks me the date. The day is one thing and the date is another - I never know what the date is. So I ask the receptionist and she tells us and he writes it down. And it was good that that happened because otherwise the 12 hours I spent in the ambulance and standing around at the hospital would have been a complete waste of time with me as the most superfluous man in the world. As it was it was a good thing I was there since I saved him having to ask the receptionist himself.

"And not only that, what was really brilliant was how it cast my whole life into stark relief. What with all those hours sitting in the ambulance staring out the window (with barely five words of conversation during the whole trip) I came up with a one-page Robert Crumb cartoon that describes my life.

"It involves a man at an information window (that would be me) and on the glass it says 'Ask me what day it is'. And above the glass is a huge LED sign, it's like 2m across in bright red and it has the day and date on it - Thursday 18th November 2010. And anyway, I'm standing at the window and an old man comes up and says, 'What day is it?' and I point up at the big LED sign and say, 'If you look just above your head there, there's a big sign with the day and date on it and it says that today is Thursday.' 'Thanks very much,' says the man and shuffles off. And the next day he comes back and asks me what day it is and I point up at the sign, 'If you look just above your head...' etc. etc. And we repeat that over and over until the page is full and then in the last panel someone comes along and says, 'You're doing a great job. The old man is very lucky to have you.' "

David Sassoon - a wikipedia whitewashing for the biggest drug dealer in history

David Sassoon is a most extraordinary character. During the nineteenth century he was the richest man in the world. It was said of him that "whatever moves over sea or land feels the hand or bears the mark of Sassoon and Company". And when you're that wealthy and that powerful, if a country like China declares your product of opium illegal then you merely get another country, like Great Britain, to declare war on them. Subsequently, all of that Chinese history: the Opium Wars, the theft of Hong Kong, the rampant looting and destruction of China's cultural treasures - variously depicted heroically in Hollywood pictures such as 55 Days in Peking and The Sand Pebbles, or through a lens of subjugation and humiliation in Chinese flicks like the Once Upon a Time in China series - all of that may be laid at the feet of the greatest drug kingpin in the history of the world, David Sassoon.

And astoundingly nobody has ever heard of him. He has no listing in Encyclopaedia Britannica at all - nothing, not a sausage. The only Sassoon they acknowledge is anti-war poet Siegfried Sassoon, whose idiot father got himself disinherited by the family for failing to marry a Jewess. Clearly Siegfried's dad also failed to teach his son the Talmud: "When you go to war do not go as the first, but as the last, so that you may return as the first." Oh well, never mind.

But it occurs to me that in some ways Sassoon's non-existence in the official records is par for the course. Fame in inverse proportion to wealth and power are how things are done at that level. Who was it that said, "Give me control over a nation's currency and I care not who makes its laws"? Who knows? Did anyone say it at all? It's not in wikiquotes so perhaps it never happened. Unsurprisingly, the Sassoons married into the family of whoever it was that didn't say that and who certainly don't control the monetary policy of almost every nation on earth.

Mind you, the from-on-high Britannica is one thing and the democratic Wikipedia is another. There, David Sassoon does have an entry. But the beauty of things democratic is the ease with which they may be subverted. And here (coming to the point at last) you may see that process take place right before your very eyes. The first entry here comes from my hard drive and I have it dated late 2007. This is immediately followed by wikipedia's current entry. See if you can spot the difference. Sorry, no brownie points because really it's too goddamn easy. However for those who need a hint - see if you can find the words 'opium wars' anywhere in amongst the second entry. NB. The so-called 'Legacy' section of each is a) identical, b) predictable, and, c) not worth reading, so feel free not to.*

BTW. Have a look at wikipedia's entry for the Sassoon family. See if you can spot the inbreeding. It seems the products of this inbreeding are all talmudic rabbis. Whilst I'm pretty sure you don't have to be inbred to be a scholar of the talmud, I suspect it helps.



- Wikipedia 2007 -

David Sassoon (1792 – 1864) was a prominent Bombay (now Mumbai) businessman of Jewish-Iraqi origin who is best known for monopolizing the opium trade into China and encouraging its use there.[citation needed] He was born in Baghdad into a family of Nasis, traditional leaders of the Jewish community. His father, Saleh Sassoon, was a wealthy banker and chief treasurer to the pashas, the governors of Baghdad, from 1781 to 1817. However, the Jews came under pressure from the Muslim Turkish rulers of Baghdad. Fleeing with his wife and family and a small part of the family's wealth, Sassoon arrived in Bombay in 1833.

He started business in Bombay with a counting house, a small carpet godown, and an opium business. He was soon one of the richest men in Bombay. He chose to follow the market, but he pursued all his enterprises better than his chief rivals, the Parsis. By the end of the 1850s, it was said of him that "silver and gold, silks, gums and spices, opium and cotton, wool and wheat - whatever moves over sea or land feels the hand or bears the mark of Sassoon and Company".

Role in the Opium War in China

In Bombay, David Sassoon established the house of David Sassoon & Co., with branches at Calcutta, Shanghai, Canton and Hong Kong. His business, which included a monopoly of the opium trade in China, (even though opium was banned in China) extended as far as Yokohama, Nagasaki, and other cities in Japan.

In 1836, the opium trade reached over 30,000 chests per annum and drug addiction in coastal cities became endemic. In 1839, the Manchu Emperor ordered that the opium smuggling be stopped. He named the Commissioner of Canton, Lin Tse-hsu, to lead a campaign against opium. Lin seized and destroyed 2,000 chests of Sassoon opium. An outraged David Sassoon demanded that China compensate for the seizure or Great Britain retaliate.[citation needed]

The Chinese Army, decimated by 10 years of opium addiction, proved no match for the British Army.[citation needed] The war ended in 1842 with the signing of the Treaty of Nanking. The "peace treaty" included these provisions:

1. Full legalisation of the opium trade in China
2. Compensation from the opium stockpiles confiscated by Lin of two million pounds
3. Territorial sovereignty for the British Crown over several designated offshore islands.

Legacy

Although David Sassoon did not speak English, he became a naturalised British citizen in 1853. He kept the dress and manners of the Baghdadi Jews, but allowed his sons to adopt English manners. His son, Abdullah changed his name to Albert, moved to England, became a Baronet and married into the Rothschild family. All the Sassoons of Europe are said to be descendants of David Sassoon.

He built a synagogue in the Fort (area) and another in Byculla, as well as a school, a Mechanics' Institute, a library and a convalescent home in Pune.

David Sassoon was conscious of his role as a leader of the Jewish community in Bombay. He helped to arouse a sense of Jewish identity amongst the Bene Israeli and Cochin Jewish communities. The Sassoon Docks (built by his son) and the David Sassoon Library are named after him. He also built a synagogue in Byculla.

David Sassoon died in his country house in Pune in 1864. His business interests were inherited by his son.

- Wikipedia 2010 -

David Sassoon (October 1792 – November 7, 1864) was the treasurer of Baghdad between 1817 and 1829 and the leader of the Jewish community in Bombay (now Mumbai).

Biography

Sassoon was born in Baghdad, where his father, Saleh Sassoon[1], was a wealthy businessman, chief treasurer to the pashas (the governors of Baghdad) from 1781 to 1817, and leader of the city's Jewish community.

The family were Sephardim with Spanish origins. His mother was Amam Gabbai. After a traditional education in the Hebrew language, Sassoon married Hannah in 1818. They had two sons and two daughters before she died in 1826. Two years later he married Farha Hyeem (who was born in 1812 and died in 1886). The pair had six sons and three daughters.

Following increasing persecution of Baghdad's Jews by Daud Pasha, the family moved to Bombay via Persia. Sassoon was in business in Bombay no later than 1832, originally acting as a middleman between British textile firms and Gulf commodities merchants, then investing in valuable harbour properties. His major competitors were Parsis, whose profits were built on their domination of the Sino-Indian opium trade since the 1820s.

When the Treaty of Nanking opened up China to British traders, Sassoon developed his textile operations into a profitable triangular trade: Indian yarn and opium were carried to China, where he bought goods which were sold in Britain, where he obtained Lancashire cotton products. He sent his son Elias David Sassoon to Canton, where he was the first Jewish trader (with 24 Parsi rivals). In 1845 David Sassoon & Sons opened an office in what would soon become Shanghai's British concession, and it became the firm's second hub of operations.

It was not until the 1860s that the Sassoons were able to lead the Baghdadi Jewish community in overtaking Parsi dominance. A particular opportunity was the American Civil War, during which turmoil American cotton exports declined. Lancashire factories replaced American cotton imports with Sassoon's Indian cotton

Legacy

Although David Sassoon did not speak English, he became a naturalised British citizen in 1853. He kept the dress and manners of the Baghdadi Jews, but allowed his sons to adopt English manners. His son, Abdullah changed his name to Albert, moved to England, became a Baronet and married into the Rothschild family. All the Sassoons of Europe are said to be descendants of David Sassoon.

He built a synagogue in the Fort (area) and another in Byculla, as well as a school, a Mechanics' Institute, a library and a convalescent home in Pune.

David Sassoon was conscious of his role as a leader of the Jewish community in Bombay. He helped to arouse a sense of Jewish identity amongst the Bene Israeli and Cochin Jewish communities. The Sassoon Docks (built by his son) and the David Sassoon Library are named after him.

David Sassoon died in his country house in Pune in 1864. His business interests were inherited by his son Sir Albert Sassoon; Elias David had established a rival firm.

---

*Sure enough, weathy Jews are always described as 'philanthropists' in spite of the fact that they only ever give to Jewish charities. The greatest criminal in Australian history, Dick Pratt, owner of packaging mega-corp Visy, was responsible for running a cartel that bilked customers of somewhere in the vicinity of a billion dollars. The corporate fine of $36M was the biggest in Australian history but actually represented 0.75% of Pratt's personal fortune. What with being terminally ill, all charges against Pratt as an individual were dropped, and that being the case, and he being such a fine contributor to charities (all Jewish) it was fitting and proper that he be publicly rehabilitated, with no less than that shit Johnny Howard donning a yamulka and declaring him the best thing since sliced bagels. No doubt his rehabilitation wasn't hurt by the the fact that he'd had half a dozen ex-prime-ministers and state premiers on the payroll with one, Bob Hawke (the man who publicly wept for Israel) receiving up to $8333.33 a month as 'consultation fees'.

Either way it's telling that we use the word 'philanthropist' in describing a person who only gives to Jewish charities. One would think that with the Greek base of philanthropy (γειά σου Hellene) being philos 'loving' and anthropos 'mankind', a fellow who only contributes to Jewish charities would not qualify. The mistake here of course is that, as anyone who's read the talmud would know, Jews are mankind. Everyone else (ie. we Goyim) isn't so much a human as 'a beast in human form' there to save the Jews from being served by, I don't know... donkeys or armadillos or something. Thus it is demonstrated that the description of wealthy Jews who contribute solely to Jewish charities (shabbat goy politicians notwithstanding) as 'philanthropists' is perfectly correct and proper.

PS. And one does love the irony that the very people who gave us the word anthropos, the ancient Greeks, should find themselves (along with everyone else) excluded from it. Never mind.

shit or get off the pot

Craig Murray - a man who's not afraid to call a small potato, a small potato. The fans of small potatoes who populate his comments section love him for it, but me, I really have to wonder how Craig differs from a limited hangout spook. Anyway, I've been taking him to task.

Hullo Craig,

Apropos me raging at you over at a slightly earlier piece on this topic, would it be fair for me to summarise your position thus?

- Any number of tiny pissweak terrorist threats are faked (by peoples unnamed but presumably Western security services).

- That notwithstanding, the big events such as 911, the July 7 bombing, the Madrid bombing etc. are real and actually committed by real Muslim terrorists exactly as described by the same media that declares all the pissweak ones real too.

Is that right?

Because I have to tell you mate that that's an untenable position. Why would a SPECTRE/SMERSH style al qaeda carry out the biggest terrorist attacks in the history of the world and then fall down in between times thus requiring our opportunistic secret services to fill in the gaps?

It seems we're required to believe that the world's best funded, most professional security services are faking the chickenfeed stuff whilst the big stuff is done by the world's crummiest, most two-bit operation run out of caves in Afghanistan by blokes on donkeys. It's akin to having a class of eight year olds in charge of the moon programme whilst NASA gets to set off bottle rockets in the back yard. Honestly mate, it's that obvious.

C'mon Craig, seriously, when are you going to dump this unsustainable, logic-defying, wishy-washy bullshit? If you're not prepared to go full-tilt why not just pack it in? I get it that the spooks want everyone to know that David Kelly was whacked, and fair enough that you might be scared, but ditch the charade mate. As the Chinese say, 'shit or get off the pot'. Are you calling the fuckers out or aren't you?


Craig ignores me of course. And quite right too since that is the smart money. But were we face to face with him unable to run away, or change the subject or whatever, I expect I'd eat him alive. Last time, when I took him to task in that mental horse thing, he popped into the comments, cracked a lame gag, and took off. No surprises there since I completely monstered his idiotic argument of 'there's-no-way-911-was-a-conspiracy-since-there'd-be-too-many-people-and-someone-would-talk' and I doubt that there was a single germane thing he could have said that wouldn't have made him look idiotic.

Tricksters V Gods - Satanism V The Rest

-
The Pedophocracy as Sacrament

Spare a thought for Dave McGowan. It seems he's being done over by the IRS. It was bound to happen of course - anyone as good at calling bullshit as McGowan is was always going to cop it. Still, it could be worse, he could have been hacked to death at a ranch outside of Matamoros. I touch wood/stone/steel, and God forbid and all that, but as Dave himself has made only too clear none of that saved all those others. And those thousands, as they died screaming, did they call out to their Gods? And did their killers call out to theirs?


In McGowan's discussion of serial killers / mind-control
/ the pedophocracy it seems that satanism is never far away. Struggling to think now, but is there a single case in amongst all of that monkey business that doesn't involve satanism? We call it the pedophocracy, and not without reason, but it's also a fact that any number of those involved in it were perfectly happy having sex with adults. Just ask Brice Taylor. Hmm... could we have been sidetracked by the sex? What if we've confused a sacrament for the church? Imagine if we were all het up about a cult of, I don't know... 'confessionalists', a great number of whom seem to have strong links to the Catholic Church. We swap stories about various wicked episodes of confession: rent-boy confession, confession-for-hire, confessiongate etc. etc. but the church? We don't take that too seriously. There are stories of course, but it's all bullshit...

Can you dig it? So let's turn it around again. If one was to argue that the paedophilia of the pedophocracy was merely a sacrament within a satanist totality, provided you cracked enough jokes and winked at the adjudicator you could win that debate no problems. And that might be all very well in the debating club (from hell!) but in the real world no one wants to know. It's bad enough that we're ruled by sexual preverts - but devil worshippers? Honest to God satanists? Bloody hell, there's no end to that. Whether we go so far as to clap our hands over our ears and yell LA-LA-LA-LA-LA or not, either way it's just too bloody unlikely.

Besides which we need merely read the newspapers. Satanism is just teenagers having a lark. Except that it's not just teenagers, and they're not having a lark neither. It's true that any number of them thought they were having a lark, right up until they got a knife in their neck and then had their brains smashed out with a piece of concrete - "Gosh, I didn't expect a satanist execution." - and whilst it might have come as a surprise to the dead guy it was just business as usual for his friend who introduced him to it. Apart from the bit about ending up dead, it's what his parents did for him, and theirs for them, and on and on back into history.


Fine, fine, satanism, whatever. But just because people are actually getting sacrificed with the full gory art-direction, that doesn't mean that it's real. Okay so maybe it is real, like Catholicism is real, but there isn't actually anything to it and when they sacrifice people and eat their hearts and lips and fingers etc nothing actually happens. It's just them being deluded or something. When they summon the devil he doesn't actually appear... does he?

The Exorcist and a 300mm lens

The Catholic Encyclopaedia on exorcism: "Superstition ought not to be confounded with religion, however much their history may be interwoven, nor magic, however white it may be, with a legitimate religious rite." But they would say that wouldn't they? They'd have to, otherwise... where's their monopoly?


I know it's only a movie but even within that understanding The Exorcist has some very revealing moments. Keep in mind that apart from the two stars Jason Miller as Karras and Max von Sydow as Merrin, all the priests in it were real priests with each scoring a dual credit as technical consultant. As such The Exorcist gets the Roman Catholic tick of approval. Besides which, between Ratzinger performing an exorcism right there in the Vatican, and that priest in high school who got all flustered and weird when he caught me reading The Exorcist under my desk in the middle of the class about exorcism (a complete fluke, I swear), within the church you won't find a single person prepared to declare that demonic possession is bullshit.

So, it's not bullshit - but - within Catholicism the rite of Exorcism is a truly lonely orphan. Whilst the New Testament tells of Jesus performing an exorcism, really the Church would love to see the back of the whole caper. As is, the Office of the Exorcist always stood outside the sacrament of Holy Orders, the act was never considered a sacrament, and Vatican II saw the church do its damnedest to disappear the whole thing completely. Let's imagine exorcism as some unkillable strain of underground travelling bamboo that constantly bursts out and ruins the otherwise beautiful symmetry of the church's perfect formal garden. If only it didn't exist! And if only they could ignore it! But sadly, it does, and they can't.


Back to the movie now, my favourite scene comes towards the end just after the first round of the exorcism proper. It consists merely of Father Karras and Father Merrin both somewhat shell-shocked, sitting on the stairs outside the room. Apart from the terrific performances and the immaculate composition and lighting, it contains a gem of a line: says Karras, "Why this girl? It doesn't make any sense." To which I would reply, "EXACTLY!" But I can do that because, faced with a choice between two mutually exclusive things, a demon-possessed girl and a religion that says she shouldn't exist, I have no preference. Unlike Karras, I'm happy to plump for whichever one makes the most sense.

Merrin of course, as the man not given to doubt, offers up some waffle perfectly designed to console a predisposed fellow as long as he doesn't think about it. And unsurprisingly perhaps, William Friedkin, in what must easily be the most tedious director's commentary ever offered on DVD, does the same. It's some guff about faith, and being tested, and whatever: blah, blah, blah. It's the kind of rubbish people are forced to come up with to avoid the inevitable conclusion that perhaps they're bullshit.


Or to put it another way, in amongst everything the church has to offer there's nothing that isn't supposition. Every single thing they got, all of it, is just somebody's say-so. God, Jesus, the Trinity, heaven, hell, the devil, angels, all of it - nothing more than the word of man. The gig is: we take their word for it and then find out if it's true or not when we die. Fingers crossed. Actually, let's rewind. When I said 'everything' before, I should have said, everything except for demonic possession. In amongst it all, the only thing that's truly tangible and can reach out and grab you by the throat, the only aspect of supernature that comes in 3D cinemascope is demonic possession. You can see why they'd hate it can't you? Its unarguable realness makes them look like bullshit artists.

The Exorcist and an 24mm lens

Never mind Catholicism, let's step back and widen our view. Let's misuse that line from Dire Straits, when two men say they're Jesus, one of them must be wrong, albeit with 'God' (take your pick) standing in for Jesus. Following that logic, in this world of infinite disparate religions, each with their own version of the-world-is-thus, at least one of them has to be bullshit. That's just me being generous you understand. Most people simply by being a member of a religion would be forced to agree with the statement - every religion is false except for mine. Not that they'd care for their religion reduced to a probability, but with 'every religion' equating to a truly staggering number, and 'mine' equalling 'one', the likelihood of any randomly chosen religion being true makes picking the correct lotto numbers look like a doddle. Ayah, it's Pascal's wager arse-about. Never mind!


As for those fuzzy types keen to avoid specifics and preferring to find some vague spiritual commonality between all religions, I'll put it to you that the only hard-and-fast, cannot-be-denied thing that all religions have in common (apart from gods who are always elsewhere), is demons, possession, and exorcism. No expert me, but it seems this nasty little hairball is the universal gig - Christians, Moslems, Hindus, Jews, Buddhists, Animists, whomever - exorcism seems to take place amongst every people, on every continent, and for as long as records exist. Says I, it's the only unarguable thing every religion has in common.

Speaking of which, let's wind the clock back. To be honest, religion = priests = those with a wee bit more knowledge than the unwashed masses who feed them, provide them with somewhere nice to live, and hell... suck their dick, why not? It's good to be a priest. And way back when, what with science not having been invented, there were any number of things a priest could know about, or claim to know about, that would place him in an exalted position: why the sun comes up; why the wind blows; and why that white stuff that comes out of my willy has to be swallowed by a virgin. But never mind the gags (or the gagging, ahem), without a shadow of a doubt, in amongst this plethora of nonsense would have been the cold hard certainty of demons and possession.

I bring this up because it's tempting to argue that what with demons being real, and what with priests being the only ones capable of dealing with them, that this must speak to the priest's credibility: demons are real; priests really deal with them; thus the priest's knowledge must be real also. Sorry folks but I'm going to call bullshit on that one too. Exorcisms often as not take months. Imagine a rain-maker who did his jiggery-pokery over and over, and over and over, and over and over, and then eventually, months later, it rained. Um, okay, how impressed should we be? Press a for very, b for somewhat, and c for get fucked!


Ha! Welcome to Catholic exorcism! But don't take my word for it - I'm just taking William Friedkin at his. In his excruciating DVD commentary he says that there is in fact nothing special about the phrase that Karras and Merrin repeatedly shout at the demon, The power of Christ compels you. Apparently exorcists are instructed to repeat any phrase that seems to have an effect. I'll admit that it's unlikely, but if someone popped into the room saying, 'Hey, pull my finger!' and the demon recoiled then that would be the ideal thing to yell at it. Or to put it another way, it's whatever works and Rites of the Exorcism be damned. Best I can make out, no religion has any idea what they're doing. It's all hit or miss, and the main thing is to keep a stiff upper lip, pay no attention to the demon's lies, and be resolute in telling it to get out. That's all there is to it. And yeah, it could take months. The only reason the priests score the gig is because they long ago declared that all things supernatural belonged to them, and if they shy away from it then - shrugs shoulders - "What good are they?"

Says I, the orphan nature of exorcism in every religion is due to the fact that in any battle between a trickster / demon who's real, and a church built with nothing but the word of man, only one of them has their fingers crossed.

The Nihilist's Dilemma

So what am I saying? You'd half wonder if I wasn't declaring myself a Satanist. If demons are the only things that are real, and all the churches are bullshit, then I must be a satanist. No?


Hardly. I'm just a guy who read too much over at Rigorous Intuition to walk away thinking nothing of it. Besides which, I like to describe myself as a nihilist. Okay, so do I believe in tricksters or don't I? If I don't believe then I have to declare all those otherwise sober and honest people who've encountered them to be liars. I don't think so - they and their stories were possessed of too much credibility for me to be so flip. Besides which it's hard to argue with the 70,000 people at Fatima who saw the sun turn to silver and fly around like a UFO. Speaking of which, and apropos the above discussions of exorcism, no surprises that the Catholic Church responded to the whole Fatima affair as if they wished it hadn't happened. That's the problem with tricksters. They're too real to ignore and too unpredictable to shoehorn into a doctrine.

Why don't I lay it on the line, define what we're dealing with, and then do the full circle trick, and bring it back to the beginning. Which is to say, let's see if that doesn't tell us something about the relationship between satanism and the pedophocracy / death cult.

Let's just start with the basis that demons / tricksters are real but merely in and of themselves. Let's not plug them into any religious world-is-thus. Do that and you instantly enter the realm of Father Karras and It-doesn't-make-any-sense. Thus we view them as a non-denominational forces of nature. They just are. And never mind me concentrating on The Exorcist. It just happened to be on the telly with me deciding to make it the vehicle for the discussion. Anyone who's hung at Rigorous Intuition will know that whatever these entities are they come in every shape, size, and description: aliens, dwarves, elves, pixies, leprechauns, kitsune, coyote, djinns, demons, poltergeists... honestly, the list is endless. They exist like rainfall exists and tuppence for anything beyond that.


So, what are we talking about exactly? Rather than dwell on the differences, as per usual it's best to gun for commonalities.

- they are tricksters with a spectacular propensity to lie.
- they are not from 'here' and may come and go.
- they are not serene and are possessed of human-like egotistical attributes, even pointless and perverse ones.
- they take advantage of the young, the weak-willed, the foolish.
- they are possessed of powers and abilities that are greater than those of any individual human but this fails in the face of people acting in concert.
- they may be summoned and likewise sent away.
- they are (Mythago-Wood-style) empowered by belief, which is to say attention, ie. come the day everyone refuses to have anything to do with them, they will be gone.
- they are not an avatar of any religion, and anything they say to the contrary is merely a manifestation of the first point in the list.

So! Have I rolled over and become a believer in all things supernature? Fat chance. I'm a Buddhist of the zen variety who wishes only to cast off all desire. What could these creatures offer me? Oneness with the universe? Not bloody likely. Besides which, is there a shortcut for nirvana? And more to the point why would one believe them even if they were to offer it? If I desire nothing from them and likewise give them nothing, neither fear, nor reverence, nor awe, then not only is our business done, but it will never start. A fig for them.

At long last satanism

And then there's satanism. Unlike every other major religion satanism embraces the tricksters. The punters in a Catholic mass, say, can spend an hour and see nothing very remarkable. Satanists on the other hand...

According to Ohio vs. Estella Sexton, February 13, 1995, 1995 Ohio App. Lexis 1413, one of the children stated that family members were involved in satanic rituals, invoking spirits, and "baby thingies and things like that." “We will hold hands ... it mostly takes place after my grandmother died. They will bring her spirit back. Sometimes they bring devils back. They come out of the table and you see them floating around in the room ... we all hold hands while it’s happening.”

Has anyone reading here ever seen anything like that in any church they ever went to? No, me neither. The best it ever got for me was choir practice in an ancient church I wandered into in the middle of Venice many years ago - the acoustics were mind-buggering. And then there was that time with a gamelan orchestra accompanying four ethereal women doing a traditional dance in a temple in Ayutthaya. And I nearly fainted once from the power of a two hundred voice choir doing Carmina Burana at the Sydney Opera House. Oh wait, that's not even religious now that I think about it. But! Had I gone to a black mass, a good and proper one that didn't involve me as human sacrifice, I suspect I'd have been odds-on to see some truly spooky shit.

It doesn't mean anything of course. Yes, it is supernature but that doesn't mean it can't be a bullshit at the same time. A supernatural dog and a supernatural pony is still a dog and pony show. It'll impress the mug punters but in the grand scheme of things it isn't worth a pinch of shit. Supernature entities are not so different to human performers: if the audience has no time for them their balls will shrivel to raisins. The magic? I snap my fingers. Or I turn the house lights up. Either one will do.

And never mind me, here's as neat a summary of the real world power of satanists as you'll find anywhere-

March 25, 1998, MEXICO CITY, MEXICO, Elio Hernandez Rivera, David Serna Valdes and Sergio Martinez Salinas, Sentences for Murder, Conspiracy, Drug Trafficking and Weapons Violations. The group thought their self-styled religion, which drew from the Caribbean Santeria and the African Palo Mayombe traditions, would render them bulletproof and protect them from police and rival gang members which was the rationale for why they “sacrificed” Mark Kilroy and others.

Yeah, so much for that. And they only had to slay thirteen people to figure out it was crap.


That of course is why the occult is hidden. In fact occult means hidden. There are those who'd argue that magic is somehow naturally hidden and that's why it's right one should spend one's life searching. I don't know about that. What if I said that any hiding was done as a deliberate act by the dog-and-pony-show proprietors keen not to lose their livelihood? If it ain't hidden, there ain't no show. "Please don't take away my dog and my pony! Without them I'll have to work for a living!"

Now factor in James 'The Amazing' Randi, famous debunker, paedophilia accusee, and board member of the False Memory Syndrome Foundation. Sorry Amazing, but you hang with those fuckers you get tarred with that brush and that's all there is to it. So there's Amazing with a sign over his head proclaiming satanist spook affiliations, all the while running around debunking everyone else's magic. Sure. That's makes sense doesn't it? God forbid the wrong people should avail themselves of the tricksters.

Oh, and Satan? He's bullshit, just another lie, one that suits not just the trickster but the dog-and-pony bullshit artists who want to piggyback their way into being our masters. Thus, if one was actually to encounter Satan it's only because the trickster has settled on that as the thing we're most likely to be impressed by. Remember Satan appearing to Jesus in the New Testament? What if I said he wasn't Satan at all but just another trickster talking to him in a language he knew he'd understand? Otherwise, should anyone ever encounter a trickster there's only one thing to keep in mind: believe nothing about what they say, or how they appear. Nothing. And then you tell them to fuck off and you turn on your heel and leave.


But to hell with the dog and pony. The truth is that the heavies at the pointy end of the satanist pyramid know that it's all bullshit. The only part of it that counts is keeping it all hidden. Provided you can keep your shit hidden, you can walk on water. Believe it or not, I've done it. And I built the rig myself.

And so, the tricksters are pissweak nothings that, in the right secluded setting with the lighting just so, function as a cheap trick to impress the credulous and trick them / trip them across the line. Then, once in and up to their necks in blood and illicit sex - belief, disbelief, it no longer matters - they cannot leave. And the beauty of it is, it's all non-denominational - Micks, Proddos, Jews, Mormons, whomever. And here we are scratching our heads as to whose shitfight is this? The beauty of satanism is, we'll never figure it out. 'Hidden' is the core of their DNA. And there you have satanism: the perfect recruitment vehicle, the perfect corruption mechanism, the perfect don't-argue compliance enforcer, the perfect thing-that-doesn't-exist. And all piggy-backed on a low-rent magic act that in and of itself is good for nothing. Think about it - if the magic was powerful why do they skulk around in the dark? Fact is - it has no power, not beyond it's ability to impress dupes. Dupes = slaves, and slaves are things worth having.

Black and White, Babies and Bathwater

I understand that I might be accused of... um, 'throwing the baby out with the bath water'. ie. as in all things, there is good and bad and so it is with supernatural entities. Thus by rejecting all supernatural entities we miss out on that which is good. The key word here is 'good' - 'good' as in a baby is good and thus to throw it out would be 'bad'.


Let's stop. We'll stop because the above metaphor is bullshit insofar as it's a classic case of begging the question. And no, I'm not 'prompting the question', rather I'm 'asking a question possessed of an assumption' and God knows 'baby with the bath water' is precisely that. The assumption is that an encounter with a spirit who is not a trickster is inherently good, good like a baby is good, unimpeachable like motherhood is unimpeachable. Yeah, says I? Bullshit.

Frankly we'd be closer to the mark if we were to compare it to throwing out the good bath water with the bad bath water. And sure, anyone hearing such a daft non-expression would rightly shake their head since it doesn't make any sense. Besides which, bathing is good isn't it? Exactly, we're still begging the question. So! Let's chuck out the baby and the bath water, certainly as an expression, and come up with a new one. Thus, me declaring that one should have nothing to do with any supernatural entities is like 'throwing out the white chess pieces with the black ones'. This will never catch on as a phrase but it's not meant to.

Rather it's a discussion of what's the point. Who in their right mind would declare that, yes, black chess pieces are bad but that white ones are good? Why not just skip chess altogether? Haven't we better things to do? And for the sake of the chess fans out there let me declare that this is an allegorical chess. Instead of being a pleasant hour long diversion, it stands for what's-in-it-for-me, with 'me' as an entity opposed to 'them'.



Forget what's-in-it-for-me. Imagine yourself in the world, and all without intermediaries. Well, not beyond the wind in your face, that is. No gods, no devils, no heaven, no hell, and yep, above us only sky. Is that too terrible? That would work wouldn't it? In the presence of nature what need is there for supernature? Apart from selfish reasons? Why would one look out on this temporal world with its infinite intensity and say they want more? ...that they want to look beneath? ...that there must be something beyond this? What is there beneath a crested bronzewing apart from the sound of its wings beating the air? Such a magical sound ...and no magic in it! Me, I rejoice. Why the hunt for belief with the world so full already?

A tuppence for tricksters, their handlers, hell, all those goddam priests, and everyone else with their magic act world-is-thus. They're completely superfluous the lot of them and exist only in, of, and for themselves. Like the non-god / non-trickster Buddha said - there is only here and now. Anything beyond that is bullshit.

Next on ABC - Media Watch Death Cult Love-Fest!

In wondering at that timeless question, What would I do if I were the producer of the ABC's Media Watch?, I decided that I would turn it into a panel show. And in true Tarantino pastiche style, I'd make it the best damn panel show ever. Thus, it would be a bit of everything: The Daily Show, The Chaser, Spicks and Specks, The Gruen Transfer, hell, we'll even throw My Word into the mix. Bugger it, let's get hell-bent and dig up the corpse of Frank Muir - even dead he'll beat the pants off just about anyone.


Apologies to foreigners who've never seen the above-mentioned programmes. Just take it as read that I'm talking about one of those whacky panel shows peopled with clever trousers trying to crack each other up. And in this case, we focus on certain unremarked-upon strands within the media and how they manifest themselves, and how they don't, and what it all means. Or doesn't mean.

And all in adulatory terms! Bravo the death cult! We think they're tops. Here at the Love-Fest, we say a tuppence for the death cult's shy modesty. If anyone in the world deserved celebrity status, it's the god-kings of the new world order. So here we'll give them the full treatment - graphics, footage, animation, sound effects, canned laughter - the full tilterama. [note to Sal - delete - It would be great if we could get some Chinese Opera in there somehow. No reason, I just like Chinese Opera. Do you know anyone?]

Don't worry if you don't understand a given gag. You don't want to understand it. Hell, I don't want to understand it. And often as not I don't. And that's half the fun. It's like the Pixies - knowing what all their songs mean precisely, would be a mistake. I call it the joy of not understanding. Black Francis gets it, I'm sure. Anyway, this is like that. Or at least, 'the vibe is in mind'. Thus, here's my sure-fire outline for a winner show, which is to say, the kind of show I want to watch. Each of the sketches could be weekly regulars or they may be one-offs. Nothing is rigid. The only rule is to get laughs and attack from sideways.

Good News from the Good War


We start the show with a somewhat solemn segment. The panel discusses the rightness of whatever war it is we're in and backs up the latest reason given for it. "At least it's all for a good cause" etc. Mind you, we don't want this to be too po-faced, so perhaps we break the ice a little (and keep things within traditional military bounds) by treating the week's TV montage of Good War News as one of those checklist drinking games.

- Skol (drink/down/chug/whatever) one drink for any depiction of Western soldiers as Good Samaritans who are only there to help people. Skol two for any soldier wondering why the locals aren't more appreciative of the help they're being given. Skol three for any soldiers guarding poppy fields.
- Skol one for every instance of locals who love the Americans and want them to stay. Skol two for local kids who've been blown up, taken to America, and think America is great. Skol three for any Muslim woman who fell in love with an American boy, rejected Islam, got married, emigrated, and now has a top-selling line of sexy lingerie exercise videos. (I just made that up - is it too silly? Probably not).
- Skol one for any Western Soldiers who've been blown up and are now 'helping to change people's lives by serving as an inspiration'. Skol two if they appear with the Prime Minister or President. And skol three if either of the latter get the bloke's name wrong.
- Skol one for the phrase 'moving forward'. Skol two for anyone explaining how we need to be there 'until the mission/job is completed/finished' whilst failing to mention what the mission/job is, or how we'd complete/finish it. Skol three for any use of the phrase, ironic or otherwise, 'there's light at the end of the tunnel'.

Optional Oblivion-Here-We-Come Speed Version
- Skol one for any Jewish talking head. Skol two for any Jewish talking head interviewing another Jewish talking head. Skol three for any report in which every talking head is Jewish. Double up if the topic is Muslim wickedness.

And so it goes with the show barely ten minutes in and the entire panel completely rat-arse drunk already.

The Reserve Bank Snark Hunt


Sobering quickly now, the panel searches for any sight of the Reserve Bank Snark. Not that anyone knows what the Snark is exactly since no one will say, but the panel does its best. Each week they trawl the media for any mention of it to see if we might add an ear, hoof, or tail to our sketchy picture. Included would be: sightings, habits, and behaviour of component board members; backwards engineering wherein we analyse the behaviour of politicians etc. who come into contact with the Snark, to see what clues that provides; a look at Snarks through history (with dead celebrity reporter-in-effigy Andrew Jackson); a look at the latest blurry viewer photos and videos of possible snarks; interviews with psychics, baristas, prostitutes etc. [Hey Sal - delete - Ideas for accompanying music: what's that music they play whenever there's a horse race? You know what I mean? Yeah, well... that]

Manny Goldstein's Fantasy Villain League


Here celebrity reporter Manny Goldstein takes the panel through the week's action and answers the perennial (and rather proper) question, 'At whom should we be shaking our collective fist this week?' Panel members (along with viewers) can swap and trade players in their fantasy villain league with Manny providing the latest tips - precise details of foreign corruption, foreign wickedness, foreign mistreatment of women, execution by swords, stones, and other means of death that Westerners don't use, mass graves, mass starvation, as well as a quick summary of villains' bad hair, clothes, shoes, etc.

And we can all play safe in the knowledge that none of it has anything to do with us and they've only themselves to blame. Each week the prize will snowball until one lucky viewer hits the jackpot when we find out which of our villains was so evil that we had no choice but to steal his nation's shit and turn what was left into a radioactive wasteland. It's lots of fun and completely harmless. NB. Apart from the jackpot prize (which could be as much as a hundred dollars), the top player is also guaranteed a starting place in the CFR-Trilateral-Bilderberger Pro-Am Circuit.

Conspiracy Nutbar Crunchfest


Wherein the media's best derisory use of the phrase 'conspiracy theory' provides an opportunity for the panel to pile in and kick the shit out of the mad idea, as well as the tin-foil hat wearing loony who uttered it. This can be presented as a point scoring buzzer game with the panel given a list of set responses ('That's just crazy', 'He'll be talking about UFO's next', 'Anti-Semitism!', 'They would never do it', 'That's just crazy', etc), then upon hearing various 'facts' put forward by the loony, the panel members hit their buzzer to be first with the right set response (extra points for eye-rolling, head-shaking, and 'snorting'). The segment ends with the Forget-Me-Hot-List which is an easy to remember list of things one should forget. This, so as to more correctly view the week's particular crazy conspiracy theory, ie. for flight 93:

-There was no wreckage at the Shanksville site, nothing, not a sausage.
-The 'scar' in the earth was always there and was unconnected to the crash.
-Sundry non-spook witnesses describe an entirely separate and different event taking place miles away.

All of the footage would be accompanied by a laugh track featuring audience jeers, catcalls, and cries of 'That's just crazy!'

Three Cheers For Israel


This segment always begins with the traditional cry of "Three Cheers For Israel! Hip, Hip..." which is always always met with the traditional embarassed silence and slight cough from the back of the audience [note to Sal *please delete* - when we're in audio, perhaps we could sneak in a quietly muttered 'yeah, get fucked', so quiet that only we know it's there, you know what I mean? no harm in trying]. This segment has two parts - Kowtow of the Week and The Mark Regev Fan Club.

Kowtow of the Week


In which the panel picks the week's best kowtow to Israel, whether from a politician, interviewer, or news report. In the same way that The Gruen Transfer extols the virtues of selling the indefensible, The Death Cult Love-Fest ever seeks to more fulsomely laud the fulsome lauding of the world's shittiest country. The various brilliant means of doing this are discussed and praised. Of course in order to bring a sense of 'balance' the panel will occasionally offer critical tips as to how a kowtower might improve their performance and otherwise be more effective. The running-joke catch-cry: Know No Shame!

Mark Regev Fan Club


A special place for all the Mark Regev fans out there. There's no one quite like him is there? The panel variously: waxes rhapsodic about Mark's latest media appearance; admires his hair, clothes, and shoes; judges the best stories and art work sent in by the viewers; screens the latest episode of our regular FANimation™ The Adventures of Lego Mark Regev in which we see Mark have various fan-imagined Lego adventures with the fan doing their best Mark voice-over impersonation - which of course will explain the rightness of whatever our little Lego Mark is doing. Other ideas: The 'Cook Mark a Meal' Recipe Club wherein fans send in recipes that Mark might like and the panel cooks them and discusses how 'Mark' they are; Video Karaoke Singalong - send your favourite love song to Mark whilst watching the burning of Gaza and Lebanon; and various hot discussions from the website forum, If Mark Regev were Doc Ock, would he beat Spider-Man?, and the hugely popular Funny Vid! Dude lights fart while Mark Regev is on TV, and Captain_boinging is a FUCKTARD - I happen TO KNOW THat MARK REGEV bought THRILLER and LIKED IT!!!!!!!! MICHAEL JACKSON is GREAT!!!!!!!!!!! etc. etc. Honestly, the possibilities are endless. We just put his fat head on the screen weekly, rip the living shit out of him, make him an object of complete ridicule, and all without ever quite giving him anything to sue us over. Easy.

Give Us A Wink, Rupes!


Here the panel contributes what they consider to be the best media racist wink of the week. The winner is whichever story maxes out the audience's famous Something-From-Nothing-Clap-O-Meter, as adjusted by the Duckworth-Lewis value S/N (where S = something, ie. racist mileage, and N = nothing, ie. How the most common name in the world Li/Lee is also the most common name topping university entrance scores. Wow, that just goes to show doesn't it? Anyway, you multiply that by the number you first thought of and you get a funny score). Three cheers! Speaking of scores, our guest celebrity Ezra Pound is currently in the lead with 17 points in spite of not having uttered a single word. As you can see, Ezra is there to balance Frank Muir and is, like Frank, 'no longer quick'. So, what with him lacking Frank Muir's sound-bite library, we came up with the idea of cutting up The Cantos into single sentences, putting them all in a hat, and then picking one out randomly in answer to each question. Spookily enough he absolutely nailed it every time. A big hand for Ezra! Yay!

King of the Death Cult Crawly Bum Lick


What with the panel being a pack of smart-arses who'd like to make a lot of money without working very hard, there isn't one of them who wouldn't love some kind of semi-permanent celebrity spot with the death cult. It's all very well being in at the bloody ABC but the money is dead ordinary and there's no hookers, no drugs, no nothing. Anyway, in honour of their own desire for money (and drug-fueled mad rooting) each week the members of the panel do their best to win the coveted title King of the Death Cult Crawly Bum Lick. In this competition, panel members take their weekly turn to make a pitch to the death cult outlining the genius plan they've come up with for installing them as god-kings of the new world order complete with hot and cold running sex slaves (hallowed be their names) (the god-kings, not the sex slaves). You can see why a fellow would want to dig up Frank Muir, couldn't you? He'd have made the perfect first King of the Death Cult Crawly Bum Lick.

End of Year Special


This is our annual end of the year lollapalooza drone-fest special. As a way of doing the obligatory that-was-the-year-that-was round-up thingy, we go with the obvious awards gag. The awards will come in two categories: funny ones we just made up to match the funny footage; and proper annual awards that we actually have to think of winners for. The latter categories might include - Best Arse, Best Fathead, Best Transparently Obvious Lie, Best Give-The-Game-Away, Biggest Shut-The-Fuck-Up, Best Slut, Best Insult To Our Intelligence, Best Mind Control Zombie, Best Bragging, Best Blame The Victim, and finally the top award, the hallowed Best And Biggest Big Lie.

This last award goes to the person in the world least afraid of irony, hypocrisy, or shame, with more chutzpah than God, a bold person who's prepared to embrace the perversity of taking a leaf out of Adolf Hitler's Big Lie playbook, and who, in testimony to their own brilliance, goes Hitler one better and doesn't idiotically explain how the Big Lie works before they do it - pauses, looks to camera - Instead they 'Just Do It', and they don't even have to pay Nike for the privilege. And sure enough, in fine who-was-that-masked-man style, they slip off into obscurity hoping that nobody noticed. Ever self-effacing, the Death Cult.

---

Self-effacing gentlemen and scholars! Rare geniuses and saints! Well, it just so happens that nobody did notice: they noticed, they took inspiration, and may I say that I hope the death cult funding board grabs this opportunity to pick up this sure-fire TV comedy hit, safe in the knowledge that with the proper monetary backing it can be burned in effigy, thrown into the ocean from a helicopter, or just left here on this blog (whichever gets the least attention). Honestly Death Cult, this thing sells itself! You'd be mad not to pay the very low price!

Cue audience applause! Yay!

Inevitability, the end of the world, and the many-minds juju

I reckon I'm onto something here. Mind you, I always think that... but whatever! I'm writing, you're reading, let's just do it. Today's thought pivots on what I consider to be the only juju that actually possesses any power: the juju of many minds thinking the same thought. And the thought that counts here is a biggie - the 'inevitability' of the the coming apocalypse/armageddon/gotterdammerung/time-of-revelation/insert_word_of_your_choice_here.

Where to start? How about Arnie Schwarzenneger? I choose him not because he's significant - he ain't. He's just another clueless puppet seduced by the usual mansions, yachts, and mind-control pussy. Rather he stands in here as an easily understood signpost in a many-minds juju gig. To wit: the everyone-must-hate-Muslims campaign that began with his execrable/brilliant True Lies flick. Pay no attention to the in-joke mind-control title, it's the thrust of the campaign here that counts.

Now that we have a better understanding of how these things work, this particular campaign was actually fucking obvious. The death cult wanted the nations of the West at war with Muslims. Sure enough, under the many-minds juju rubric it was necessary that we believed that Muslims were mad, death-wish psychopaths who hated us for our freedom. Or somesuch. Don't worry that none of it made a lick of sense, nor that it was utterly at odds with what those who were familiar with actual non-Hollywood Muslims knew to be the truth, ie. that they are the most charming and hospitable people you could meet. Common sense, real world experience - none of that is a match for a manufactured many-minds juju.


From the deliriously racist Hot Shots Part Deux, through to the too clever for itself 24, onto the wolf in sheep's clothing Rendition, we can observe the roll-out of a long planned campaign at least twenty years in the making. With the bloc-media filling in all the gaps in between, enough of that shit bubbled through the ground water so that when the time came we were there already. Literally, now that I think about it: Have MOAB, Will Travel.

And back at home, we the otherwise right-thinking (who couldn't help but drink the water), muttered briefly, but not too much on account of that wee nagging voice telling us that Muslims aren't quite the thing are they? Honestly, they're their own worst enemy and they bring it upon themselves. But to hell with us as righteous white folk, even the very people who should have known better, which is to say Muslims, in the face of the many-minds juju ended up following that time-honoured teenage dictum If you've got the name, you may as well have the game. It's a bullshit logic, but like that ever stopped anyone before. If everybody thinks so, there must be something to it. Even Sirhan Sirhan thought he must somehow have been guilty.

Still now I can still hear that wee nagging voice in my head. For God's sake - they're only movies. Ayah, it doesn't shut up does it? It's the voice of the believer I used to be. Yeah well, they're only movies in precisely the same way that fluoride is only in the water to Make Our Teeth Strong! Never mind that fluoride is toxic waste from the aluminium and uranium smelting industries, has never (ever) naturally been consumed by humans, and in all other uses must carry a poisons warning that it should under no circumstances be ingested - here we are in a world where everyone thinks it's good. Oh dear, have I strayed again? Kinda, sorta, not really. Fluoride, Muslims, take your pick. If the bloc-media runs with it, without dissenting voices, it's a done deal. We'll drink toxic waste, commit genocide, whatever. Give them time and we'll be raping our own children. Oh look, it's Miley Cyrus' sister Noah teaching little girls how to pole dance. Isn't that adorable?


Whatever, a tuppence for the endless small time tactical shit. It's just scene setting. We're here for the big strategic juju crunch point - us being prepped for the end of the goddamn world. Sure enough, small bites will only get you so far in instituting a Rothschild uber alles one world government. Somewhere along the line Naomi (no-Rothschilds-here) Klein's Shock Doctrine will have to be deployed. Big Time. And when a thing cannot be permitted to fail, half measures will not do - it's overkill or fuck off. No one's missed the overkill have they? What have we got so far?

-The Great War On Terror Muslims - The GWOTM: serves to destroy the only alternative to usury's money-as-debt; provides an enemy and thus a basis for the implementation of fascism; puts the Western world in a once-you're-in-you-can't-get-out permanent war footing; and not forgetting its well proven ability to destroy an economy.

-Global economic collapse - Not over yet folks! Hell, we've barely started. The GWOTM will only destroy America's economy. Since this is a global gig, everyone must fall. Fine - get every nation in debt up to their eyeballs, pile on 500 trillion worth of derivatives, pull the pin, retreat to Switzerland. Simple.

-Global warming - I'm wondering if this isn't just opportunism? Perhaps the climate is changing. The sun is very big and we know fuck all about it. Or the whole thing is bullshit in its entirety. Who can tell? Either way bullshit is a certainty, and here the bullshit pivots on it being the fault of humans. The only thing we know for sure is that whether the climate is changing or not, the idea of a global regime and a tax based on breathing is simply beyond irresistible for the death cult. Honestly, if global warming didn't exist, they'd have to invent it.

-The coming we-told-you-so global pandemic - AKA How to kill five billion people without really trying. And all with global chaos and further reinforcement of the need for global government thrown in for free. Yee ha! A thing worth doing. If you're a death cult motherfucker, that is.

-Mike Ruppert's peak oil - Between Dave McGowan and the Gulf of Mexico disaster, I'm wondering if this one hasn't come a bit of a cropper? Still, that's the point of overkill - if one campaign fails it's not the end of the-end-of-the-world. Mind you, any number of other plans have been blown wide open and what happened? Nothing. They just carry on regardless. Perhaps it's early days for the peak oil gig? Who knows?

-The Sea Turning To Fire and other natural disasters - Gulf stream oil spills are one thing and HAARP is another. Is the former global? It's hard to know. The latter less so (technically tactical rather than strategic). But still, it's a hell of a thing HAARP - your own personal franchise of Acts-of-God 'R' Us. It's beautiful if you think about it: it's the don't-argue fear machine from hell and it's the roll-your-eyes deniable natural event. Perfect against China. Whether China gets the don't fuck with us deterrence hint, or they don't get it and are kept busy dealing with millions of casualties, it's all good. (Att: Russia and China - are HAARP pulses monitor-able? You might want to get onto that. If intelligence shows that HAARP is an earthquake maker, me, I'd declare nukes justifiable).

Did I miss anything? Oh, and did that add up to six? Yeah. Gee, I hate that number. Whatever, let's just ask the question: what do these things have in common? Apart from being made from whole cloth, and each with its own specific many-minds juju campaign? Me, I'd declare them 'piecemeal' (for want of a better word). If we were in an advertising rollout (and we are) each of these would represent a brand, or a stream, or an aspect, each within the corporate-mission-statement totality of the 'apocalypse' campaign. So where's that total branding? The umbrella meme to tie it all together? It has to be there.


Think Egypt in the bible. God didn't separately dish out one plague after another for ten separate sins. Each element of the overkill came under the single rubric of... well, let's just call it: Everyone must love Jews or die. Thus we have God imagined as an idealised expression of Jewish contempt and hatred for those not them. "What we want the public to understand here is how great we are by way of here's what happens to anyone who doubts it." No surprises then that for those imagined to have wronged the Jews, one plague is not enough. It's Crucifixion's too good for them writ large, really large, as large as God.

NB. For the record (and me back on my old hobby horse) - whatever the death cult call themselves, whether Jews, or Sabbateans, or Moloch worshipping Satanists, they're actually nothing more than anti-buddhas who've chosen the selfishness end of the continuum. Choosing that over selflessness is the most prosaic and obvious thing imaginable. It's them choosing to emulate beasts, otherwise pitiable creatures who lack the ability to do otherwise. The fact that the death cult infinitely outstrip the beasts in their beastliness doesn't make them great. Any nth degree thoughtless fuckwit cunt who's chosen the obvious and made it to the top of that particular pyramid is still a thoughtless fuckwit cunt. Yeah, death cult kiddy rapers, I'm talking to you.

Back to the business at hand! Each of these sundry campaigns have to be tied together thematically. In fact this thematic totality must come first. Everything then will follow on in simple order. The totality is obvious, really. All of the above are simply variations of Lookout! It's the End Of The World! Is anyone surprised? Of course it's the end of the world. It's always been a winner. It's the same precise logic by which salesmen tell you that an offer only lasts for a day. Don't think. There's no time. Just stampede!


Over and over, the same thing every time. Why change it? Only an idiot would reinvent the wheel. The end of the world is so reliable that even Buddhists fall for it. The list of Maitreyan rebellions is very long and very bloody. You'd think they'd know better, wouldn't you? Especially given that Maitreya will only return when the Buddha Dharma has disappeared from the face of the earth. Never mind. It's the classic meme and plugged into the power of the many-minds juju it works every time, and for everyone. Even us, the clever trousers.

Hands up everyone who thinks a not-made-by-the-hand-of-man apocalypse-something-or-other is just around the corner? I hate to say it, but the death cult gives three cheers. The more the merrier says they. And here we are thinking that the above list of disasters are all false, contrivances created to push us to a bullshit end, but... 2012! The Mayan calendar! Look at the weather! Well, of course! In amongst this jigsaw puzzle of many pieces, this is the photo stamped on the front to make sense of it all. And here we are dismissing the pieces but embracing the photo. As Su brilliantly said in the comments one time, in chess the white pieces have a purpose and the black pieces have a purpose, but the game itself has no purpose. So are we chess fans or aren't we?

Back to Hollywood. Here the death cult is telling you where they want your heads to be. On a block, ha! Yeah, yeah, cheap jokes aside, the many-minds juju machine loves the end of the world. It's not an accident that all those movies that used to involve the hero saving the world now skip that last bit. Now the world is destroyed with a Knowing Nick Cage realising that there's nothing for it but to hand his kids over to, well... whomever, and then go home and wait to die. Oh, and any resemblance between those scenes in Knowing and the people smugglers in Haiti, Sudan, etc. is purely coincidental. These were aliens for chrissakes, not Baptists, or 4WD enthusiasts, or members of the Finders. Whew! Thank God.


And thank God for Roland Emmerich and his Day After Tomorrow and 2012. Apparently those pix are all part of his noble campaign to increase awareness of 'the lack of a government preparation plan for a global doomsday scenario'. Sheesh, with good guys like him, who needs motherfuckers? And hasn't he heard of COG? That's Continuity Of Government, Roland. And don't worry mate, it's all under control: even as we speak truckloads of Krug and pâté de foie gras are being shipped into secret underground locations. Otherwise, the only 'global doomsday scenario' that's going to take place will be 100% man made. 'Lack of government preparation'? Ha ha ha ha - nice one Roland. Who said Germans weren't funny?

Hollywood loves the end of the world and we love it too. And sure Hollywood is bullshit, just another part of the bloc-media telling us to hate Muslims etc. But here, they... I don't know? What do we think? That they've accidentally tapped into the truth? Or that there's bits and pieces of Hollywood that aren't really part of a bloc-media, aren't part of the mind-control programme, and that somehow these insane budget epics escaped oversight? It's only a movie, says the wee voice.

Sorry, but I'm going to have beg off that particular chestnut. Given the nature of the death-cult campaign and how if this meme didn't exist they'd have to invent it anyway; Given that the end of the world gag has been done more times than anyone could count, and never with a lick of truth, nor to any useful purpose; Given that other campaigns that we know to be false have run the gamut from Mike Ruppert's bullshit indy cred through to the voice-of-the-Rothschilds bloc-media; Given that this is the campaign, the campaign to end all campaigns, that cannot be allowed to fail; Given all of that, why are we falling for it?


And why do we get excited about a fellow, or group of people (it's hard to know really) who say that they've somehow managed to dredge through every single thing written on the net and, by way of 'asymmetric language trend analysis', use this to distil the future? He (or they) then turn this into 40-odd pages of frankly unintelligible gibberish in which, fortune-teller style, one may happily read whatever one wants. As long as it's the end of the world, that is. Is that guy for real? I mean, really? He's not a psy-op? Even though he precisely resembles one? And even though he must either have the most staggering array of supercomputers to process it all, or he's just pulled it out of his arse?

Last week in Sydney, whilst staying with friends who have an ADSL line I succeeded in downloading all 7Gb of a text-only wikipedia. I now have an offline wikipedia on my hard drive (and it's fantastic, I love it - three cheers). But it took all night. To include all notes, discussions, and meta-data would have come to several terrabytes of data, an impossible download. And that's just wikipedia, a single (albeit large) website, one amongst millions. Okay, now imagine the impossibility of dealing with everything written on the net. This is google territory and they need acreages of computers and a town's worth of power for it. And this guy does it on what? His desktop? The computers at work during downtime? Fucking hell, I shake my head. Oh, and Les Visible gets a tip of the hat does he? Madness! In the ocean that is the internet, if all mentions of Les Visible add up to more than a single drop in that ocean, I'll eat my motorcycle. And yet, this fellow somehow finds Les in amongst the mega-magilla-gorilla-gazilla-bytes he downloads does he? Or is it just a fact that Les is on-message with the end of the world meme? Because that is a fact.

Where are our heads at? With Mike Ruppert telling us of the inevitability of mass death? Or with Dave McGowan calling him out as bullshit? (Oh look, Mike Ruppert has a book and a movie. Sure! Mike gets the bloc-media tick of approval).


Are we dizzy yet? Too dizzy to ask the question: What's he fucking on about? What's his point? My point is that if I'm prepared to call bullshit on (let's check them off): peak oil as an excuse for mass murder; swine flu as a natural event; global warming as man-made; the GWOTM as 'Muslims started it all'; natural disasters as nothing-to-be-done-for-it acts of God; and economic collapse as a couldn't-be-helped accident; why wouldn't I take that one-more-step and call out this apocalypse thingy too? It's no different. It's just more of the same, part-and-parcel. Of course they'd do it. They have to. This campaign cannot be allowed to fail. Everything that is humanly possible will be done.

And it is being done. But humanly possible is the key expression here. There is no hand of God in amongst it. There is no heavenly host cum cavalry galloping into the frame. Or to put it another way, there is no deus ex machina. And there never was unless humans put it there. The god in the machine was always a con. The 'machina' in deus ex machina is nothing more than the means of contrivance: it's the stage, the wings, and the proscenium arch; it's a thousand people operating cameras, rigs, and buildings full of computers; it's a pyramid of power with armies toiling to convince you of the reality of the 'deus'. But here, the 'deus' is as false as the 'machina'. Deus ex machina is merely a statement of what someone else wishes to achieve and how they go about convincing you, the viewer, of its god-like it-must-be-so nature.


But people may believe what they like. All I can say is, include me out. I'm too old for that shit now. Somewhere along the line I grew up. And sure, it came as a surprise but what are you going to do? Shit happens. Now I say the death cult can take their inevitability and stick it up their arse. I don't care how many people pile in declaring it to be so. Nor how well meaning they are. All I know is, if you pile in, it will be so. That's how the juju works.

The inevitability of the end of the world? Yawn. It's just a wish - the wet dream of the death cult. I ain't lending a hand to help a pack of wankers blow their wad. They can jerk off on their own time.