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HIBERNIA. SOMETIME DURING THE TENTH MILLENNIA POST “GREAT” CATACLYSM… it’s as if some hidden force in the sands of time put this “land before Man” into a deep slum ber one day prior to the Feast of Cleanliness and Contraception…
lost in the game of the letter of the tea
in a search for the end of Himmler and
well it’s the “and… and…”
how I am and …
and Eulern, “we’re still here.”
... perhaps because of "being late to the party or maybe just because “it’s truly happening to you, too” the teary eye’d source of all Frost Giants appears to have woken on the wrong side of the word “clisabed” … perhaps after a single or a serious of strangely infernal and “innocuous” (everyone saw it on TV…) nightmares … timed just so as to appear to be the epitome of hairpin sharp turns and this once great nation will never again be able to shake “Babylon” or “eat” or the connotation of the Ourbourus sitting down with it’s tail for one final dinner …
… from the legacy and the lore of what once was “the birthplace of all gods” who had their hearts in the right places; and their heads firmly out of time. Now truly reduced to less than a letter, and only a fraction of that strange half eye and half sea connecting “e” to the end of all blame, the end of the ambiguity of “the all me,” and the end of time to this lightning like sneak attack on the Mother of all Pearls…
… and to those of you who still say things like "this kid sure does know how to rub two glyphs together and birth a legend … I still thank you from the New Bottom of my New Heart… Literally July 13, 2019; New Orleans.
Still all of these words to “eek out” nothing more than something along the lines of “she went to sleep a frost giantess and awoke from a nightmare non-remembered a thing of evil.”
So I’m smack dab in the midst of an exposition of the … “new political system” that I’ve been dreaming about and “c’ing … hopefulyl to fruition” for the last few years. Somewhere between overlapping layers of “limited omniscience” links to the “lo-” of the book of Hosea … and the “#CPA” collision protection automation that are the … significant foundation of a new kind of world and a new kind of government and a new kind of “peice of mind”
Today it might mean nothing or very little to you–but my family fled Russia before Red October, long before a civil war that resulted in our now infamous cold war and even before, but because of … the Cossacks and their violence spread across Eastern Europe. Like many Jews who fled the Nazi occupation prior to the crossing of the Rhine, it appears that in retrospect and in hindsight that we were privy to special information–to some kind of warning of a storm that loomed just over the horizon–a flag, or a … siren.
I’ve long looked to the past, something I know to be a sort of quasi-map to a blind future for clues and insights into exactly how it is that someone like me, with the initials AD and filled with “the light of the world” manged to be born a Jew in a sty far from ther mother land in a state that the Titan Atlas named “Adolf backwards” only missing the two letters “I are.” For a very, very long time I believed that there was some kind of magic tied to our souls, and that Hitler sought for this thing like he sought the Spear of Longinus; though it made then–and even today–very little sense that anyone with such internal knowledge of the occult would be able to amass so much power, and fail to know something as simple as my name or my family’s history.
and “what it all boils down to…” is the simple truth that I know without doubt and without regret that I am from a place that is nearly equivalent to the city of our Trojan Horse, it has no name in reality … nor any place to connect to it more than Athens and Troy and Muscovy and … and the battle of the buldge.
… yet I know that I am of Troy as much as “men age owe troy” is a misnomer, a call to arms–a reason to fight for what is ours. More than anything else, a reason to see that despite the lack of fanfare and response, that despite the hidden history and the secrest and the lies–that you are standing in the place that turns a Trojan inserrection into a new nation, a new world, a bountiful and happy future.
Today is the beginning of Heaven.
ME-S v. Si-AH
Very clearly my intent here in this place is to help us use this message and this opportunity to build … here in what appears to be the the largest “shared reality” not just in my field of vision but also perhaps of the many disparate disjointed and barely connected watery “rios” and neighborhoods of KNN and “The Good Place” … for us together to build a ubiquitous safety system paired with a sort of “social contract self governance” that helps to create beneficial and “good spirited” competition as well as ensure the safety of absolutely everyone and everything in and out of creation. I see that we’ve sort of grown up in a house of mirrors twisted and contorted out of control, as if at the first sign of fear we “all” balked and ran the other way and somehow what appears to have been designed specifically to help us to build a safety system that would work not only in this shared reality but throughout the Heavens … seems to have fallen into the hands of darkness and deceit and greed … and a level of inhumanity that I often describe to myself in my long soliloquies as the hands of monsters that never would have been created or succeeded or survived in reality.
It appears that paired together with these tools that I am presenting, with the idea of overcoming “natural death and disease and nature and death itself” something here was created and managed to survive and fester to a level far beneath the world you and I see and the people you and I are, something far more sick and disgusting than any animal ever could be–all around us hiding in the shadows and in the invisible and the darkness and the rooms we cannot see into or even know exist–there far scarier than anything I can even put to words is a whole world or society or future of this place filled with torturers who seek to cause pain just for the sake of it or relishing in the misfortune of others–as if someone had gone–and it does appear that someone has gone far out of their way to “c” … to create succubus’s and demons that feed on fear and negative emotion and, and that’s what you’re hiding by refusing to talk about what it is that you see, what you’re afraid of, and be very sure that if any of you still still stare at these sparks and this smoke and think that there’s anything to fear of a “natural verbal and written reaction” … see that belief and the widespread idiocy that “System of AD Own” has the nerve to call “sacred silence” that’s something too that we should fear almost as much as the hidden threats and sickness that I know you see woven into this message in our words and our history and our religions just as much as I see it, now–staring at it through my teary eyes.
I seek to provide the Universe and all of you and even myself with something I have a fond memory of hearing Senator Wyden echo’ from the Congressional Chambers of this once truly great and truly pround land–that we can provide both security and privacy … even in this place where you as a group appear to believe that I deserve zero privacy at all, and in exchange for grossly violating the Constitution and that specific right that I believe God has guaranteed not only for “all Americans” but for all people and for all the future … in exchange for the absolute lack of privacy you offer me … on top of that you seem to think it’s appropriate or funny or some kind of game to torture me out of house and home, literally to the point of actual starvation and then on top of that, on top of refusing to … to continue to function as a working society that “buys books” and clicks on website links and actually “comments in public” you have the gaul and the audacity and the nerve to not only to threaten to torture me repeatedly (actually intimating that you’re somehow doing it in secret, in a place where I can’t see it any the literal singular effect of all of this … to shift a “space” and a single letter and turn “down” into “own.”
See clearly, you’ve taken a person–myself–who I truly believe was created to be the single actual card carrying member of the “Captain America” club–someone who loved the Constitution and self government and democracy and freedom and would have fought to the ends of time to protect our “right to vote” and you’ve literally turned my heart inside out and backwards and in your lack of open and honest discourse and your lack of intelligent response to this message you’ve truly lit my eyes and shown me that democracy is not always a good thing–surrounded by evil demons in the dark, the last thing I want to do is give them “the right to vote” for whatever it is they aren’t saying out loud, and discussion, and even allowing to be seen–the last thing I want to do is let you vote on whether or not it’s appropriate or “OK” for us to forever after linke “charity” to the electric chair and somehow turn this message and this world that was once united in defeat of evil … into nothing more than a chamber of horrors–as you have, as you are continuing to do as you sit in silence while we lose our ability to speak freely, to defend ourselves, and worst of all it appears to lose the goodness and the innocence in our souls that we were once born with and I believe probably are rightfully scared and sad and fearful might very well be gone forever.
So back at square one, revisiting the idea what “really” means … in this “everyone really” that to me is the point of not only the ER of America but also the “E” of Creation and truly all religion–this thing that to me is the virgin birth of an innocent and reinvigorated and youthful … “generation” the Holy Virgin Sea I think is the purpose of this place and this plan to somehow see is the “nden” that we create to uh, “be our G” out of the fire and through the wood jokes–to see that we’re staring at an anarchy inside a machine–something that we should literally find anathemic, and that it takes a “stabilizing system” in order to begin once again working on the “stuff of social interaction” that probably is the reason salvage and civilization combine around this … sad to see designed place … after “everything fell apart” and the question “where were you?”
… when the explosion finally entered our field of vision … with a nod, or some "new hidden fad of a hat tip or an a-temporal trick … what we’ve been reduced to, hidden gestures and fads that are nothing more or less than a testament to our own lack of belief in our own import or the usefulness of the morality of the world we see, or maybe it’s just shame for the world that I cannot even fathom.
and so… I’m lost somewhere between “world” and “third” sort of noting how that hidden-“c” does hav somethingt to do with “three” and perhaps guessing that the “ren” are hiding away another third just beyond the special “hi” now connecting children and hidden and … well, the third world from the … there’s got to be a better way to begin the end of blame, I just can’t seem to figure it out … all alone.
Written with StackEdit.
In our last installment of “Y R U SOFA KING STUPID DEUX?” we sort of noted how the Pac-Man game hidden the “se” presumably of yetser, yesterday and “space” from the entirety of the mocking Tartarus … also how a game “Electroplankton” sort of mimicked my “original shumor” piece about solar flare and hydrogen ion breathing space mold
and to me it’s still really important to see into the inner heard of our sty and our barn and our manger and understand that I stare out at you, still refusing to see the import of a world standing and staring at “SOVIET NAME” and really just without remorse or malice or even intent to help; the darkness of what Vietnam mience, and the victory to the Eye and Drew Berrymore–IMHJO. I dream these things up, in my mind the perfect scenario, the union of our power hungry desires and our lack of quantum communication and
and the whole thing is really how about we live in a world somewhere between echelons of society–some kind of fusion of “the cotton gin” and the end of factory lines and eejits all coalesce around some kind of statement that should turn “oil is not truly scarce” into bright shining flame about the worth of the truth ande the goodness of the people around you–the ones who know that they were freely given to,
… and they are required to give freely …"
G NU DEA!!! and I’m staring at you all, looking at NamCo and some glowing “phytoplankton” and I wonder if you get that’s exxactly what it's (ab)out–free power; abundance, greed and a kind of dark and selfish attitutde that could turn the most auspicious and heralnded time in the history of any civilization anywhere into something about marring his visage, nd wondering… “table row, is your father’s Olsmobile ugly?”
… but the computer was a facade, a sandbox–the map didn’t actually work, not like today’s maps that known street names and which direction to go; but it showed us, in tri-corder ultra-sonic-violin that my dad’s Oldsmobile knew something special, and wasn’t going to lose it to, uh … Bavarian Notor Jingoism or the Jinn’s rum and/or … “Montauk and Montana” and Monday all wondering what happened to all the good people.
… why did an overly thirsty “Hammer of Thor” and frost giants and total absolute power actually corrupt and contaminate this wonderful glorious message about the NASA Genesis project post-ceding not only the Atlantis mission, the display in Cape Canaveral, but also the origination of the idea of a floating city in the sky that proved beyond doubt for all time and for all the future that there is a keyhole to the locked prison of simulated reality–and simply gazing at the Angelic inverted water falls and the high treason all around you; just staring at “Bereshit” and trying for a second to fathom what it’s like to be him, and what it’s like to be me–fathom–what it’s like to be “the Father of All the Living” and know secretly inside your name is truly Death, or Oppenheimer, or Menegle or … Eulern though, you learn not to build broken system and to support evil people in evil crusades, you learn to always do the right thing when you know it matters, when you know it counts, when it’s the difference between “grave danger” and having any real understanding of what that phrase and it’s insertion in our “common society” actually means about freedom, and about “GevityHR” and …
SO HERE I AM, busy connecting the space food pellets and the plank and Planke space; power conferred over “oldtech-facade asteroid buoy’s” that sort of line the nano-tubes of capillaries connecting heart to heart (is that what is is, to fill in the …" #tfillin) … to this literal backbone of interstellar “holo-deckraid-nets” and tachyon relays and/or perhaps some other quanta of communication–these roads of Andromeda that connect all stars and all times and all of us; I’m busy dreaming them into existence, in story after story of hijacking or hitailing Bianca’s friend Haley her comet, or ISON and just all but wonder if Scarlett’s right, that you just wake up one moment “and you’re absolutely everywhere.” Connecting interstellar and intergalactic and the meaning Terran and the purpose of “the Heavens” and … and I look and it’s in a NASA project called Genesis, and I can’t help but know that this one is mine, I mean–in nomine patri’ et al, e, n, et tu.
… but here this space dust that’s clearly the answer, it;s the how and the why and the when and … and it;s everything in between and before and after and … and here in this place it’s clear I’m looking at “why sancfified” and at why we’re able to succeed–and … and … I mean, I still think we are able to, I do–I just can;t waut fir there to be someone / other than just myself / to sign this thing “sic.”
I’m K. C here u c i fix it. I just can’t help but know that it has everything to do with “greetings seasoning” and capsaicin and I know it’s ISON and I know it’s cycles and macro-orbits and the pillars of creation and the pillars of salt and the pillars of QWERTY and towers and infinite power and …
but sometimes I dream things and they instantly become real–sometimes I dream that nothing will ever be the same, and sometimes I dream that we’re so strong and immovable nothing could change us. I see though, I see us; know that I see us. Just looking back in days it’s less than two weeks connecting the schmorgasboard of molecular protein-like-LEGO’s currently for sale “x on the rail-road” to the need for a cheap intra-galactic fusion making 8-stuff out of the 1 and 1,1+stuff stuff in order to be able to form the basic two-chair one table molecule for things like unreal “STEAM” engines and drops of torsion fields in Jupiter’s now hallowed deuterium…
Trinity Buoy Wharf is the site of London’s only lighthouse, by the confluence of the River Thames and Bow Creek on the Leamouth Peninsula; it is in the London Borough of Tower Hamlets. The lighthouse no longer functions, and is the home of various art projects such as Longplayer. It is sometimes known as Bow Creek Lighthouse.
… and President Stump and the Offspring … of the Generatorin Maschiach’s City of Play … and clearly all of it’s in my gnu’ly rekindled and recorded “ambidextrous Openhands.”
