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Introspection

Look straight inside, no fables,
Forget what books have said.
Those theories—twisted tables
By brutes or fools were spread.

Commissioned lies and clatter,
Their minds were dull or sick.
To be yourself — that matters—
In Bedlam? Take your pick.

It talks, it stinks, it teaches
To drown the slave in fog.
"Therapy" here reaches
For horror — what a cog!

The system breeds confusion,
The endgame always planned:
"All walk beneath illusion..."
No—Satan’s ruling hand.

A curse, not some condition,
All madness stems from lies.
Forget naive submission—
You're drowning in the flies,

In filth, in steaming sewage
They’ve dumped for many years,
To fill your mind with cruelage,
With poison, doubt, and fears.

You’ll never glimpse the clearing
If you believe their game.
Hate neighbors, lose all bearing—
And smoke becomes your name.

Divide, divide forever—
That’s how they break us all.
No bonds, no strength, no tether,
Just slaves in mental thrall.

Their theories are infection,
Just tricks to lead astray.
No truth, no introspection—
Just herds to rule and flay.

Look deep without your learning,
Without your self-made past—
This world is flames still burning,
Deceit so wide and vast.

The pipelines of "education"
Just crush your soul with spite.
Their goal? Your degradation,
Their motive? Endless blight.

The beasts wrote every program—
Your teacher? Just a clerk.
Their deals with demons—oh ****,
They serve the Dark and work.

Yes, Satan built this blindness,
This trap where Light can’t roam—
But Light is born inside us,
And Soul is still your home.

Be sharp, be clear, be clever—
Expose their every lie.
Let intuition sever
Their schemes—or else you die.



---------------------



1.
They fed you lies since you were born —
Now tear them out like rotting thorn!

2.
Look deep — the Light is not outside.
Expose the Dark. Unlearn. Decide.



---------------------



Poetry on the Hard Stuff

The editor’s **** window—
Again, I write some verse
On logic, strange attractors...
This hell could not be worse!

It’s simpler mocking morons—
The crowd’s their natural land.
But still, I feel the furnace
And filth that's close at hand.

Their reign — another poem.
This one? A bitter score:
This world is doomed and rotten,
And God walked out the door.

He left it all behind us —
So don’t break back in vain.
The end of Evil’s nearing.
We’re circling the drain.

But still — a word on Gödel,
A fire in the mind.
The trolls and fools would smother
What he revealed to find.

This titan of all ages
Crushed every pompous creed —
Their verbal diarrheas
He flushed out, word and deed.

His genius left their theories
In ruins, torn apart—
A circus of confusion,
Decay without a heart.

Of course, it’s just a poem—
No journal, no footnotes.
But through such lines of fury
A sober mind still floats.

So open that **** window —
For poetry’s a gun,
A tank that rolls through falsehoods
And smashes every one.

Strike lies with verse and fire,
Despair, but never yield.
In chaos and in silence,
A fighter owns the field.

Obedient minds are poison,
Their madness kills the soul.
Let filth surround — your weapon
Is form, and thought, and goal.

Let others churn out sonnets
On love and dreamy skies —
While we’re all slowly drowning
In blood and endless lies.

Can poems strike the tyrants?
Then write — and write to ****!
The only question burning:
To smash... or just sit still?



---------------------



1.
They drown the world in ****** lies —
Your verse must shoot, not sympathize.

2.
Don't write for love while cowards bleed.
Real poems bite. Or else — concede.




---------------------



Familiar Despair

Familiar despair —
Not sin, but bitter prize.
The wildness everywhere
No longer shocks the wise.

So wrap despair around you
Like blanket, thick and dead.
Let sorrow lie beneath you.
Your hopes? Forget they bled.

This world is rot and fiction,
Its people — feeble lice.
Judas takes top position —
This world runs on that vice.

We chew through Earth like locusts,
Like bark-beetles of doom.
The beasts have long outvoted
The Spirit in the room.

You're Spirit — pure, eternal.
All else is slime and lie.
Reject their “real” infernal —
Leave Bedlam high and dry.

Build tribes, unite in honor —
Defend against the rot.
Be man — not meek dishonor
That madness has begot.

Though madmen fill the census,
Stand firm, though few survive.
Let ******* keep dispensing
Their poison — we’ll revive.

Their lies will **** the masses —
The mad will take it all.
But don’t be glass, don’t shatter —
You’re sane if you don’t crawl.

When numbers start to dwindle,
When freaks consume their kind,
The chance for sane resistance
Will rise — so make your mind.

One final fight approaches —
Let beasts be blown away!
It’s grim, but we’ve not lost yet —
Don’t quit. There is a way.

If we can strike with wisdom —
Then strategy must rise.
The Darkness spawns no visions —
Just pustules with no eyes.

So call your Spirit forward —
It knows the hidden track.
These servants of the hellholes
Are weak. Let's strike them back.

Turn inward, trust your insight —
It sees what’s veiled and grim.
Restore your rightful birthright —
The Spirit breaks their hymn.

It’s all a Mystery — learn it.
Be forged in secret flame.
No time to sob or squander.
Rise now — or die in shame.



---------------------


Familiar Despair

Familiar despair —
Not “sin,” but well-earned prize.
Degeneration’s everywhere —
A stump now glorifies.

So wrap yourself in sorrow,
Like blankets on the bed.
Beneath, lay grief — no “morrows,”
You’re living with the dead.

The lie is foul and reeking,
And people — rot and dust.
The traitor's cross is creaking —
This world has lost all trust.

We’re termites on creation,
Devouring sacred wood.
The **** rule every nation —
Just footprints where soul stood.

You are a Spirit, burning —
All else is filth and fraud.
Reject their world of yearning,
Walk out from this facade.

Build brotherhoods and legions —
Defend against the Night.
Be more than slave’s obedience —
A man must rise and fight.

Though billions kneel in madness,
Still battle — lose or win.
Let ******* spew their badness —
Their lie won't pull you in.

They’ll **** with lies, not sabers,
And fools will buy the trick.
But you — drop victim's labors.
You're not a fool or sick.

As numbers of the twisted
Shrink under their own doom,
Our chance, once barely listed,
May rise and slice the gloom.

Then strike — one final battle!
Let monsters fall and rot.
Though now we see death's rattle,
We still are not forgot.

But fight with sharp precision —
Find strategy, not rage.
The Dark has no true vision —
Just pustules on a cage.

So let your Spirit guide you —
It knows the silent way.
Its light will burn right through them —
The cowards of decay.

Turn inward, feel the surging
Of intuition's spark.
Regain your soul’s true merging —
It’s Spirit that leaves marks.

All this — a Mystery calling.
Go learn its sacred laws.
Stand up, no more just crawling —
Now cry becomes your cause.



---------------------



1.
The Spirit sees. The Spirit strikes.
No place for worms or whining types.

2.
They flood the world with demon noise —
We answer not with tears — but poise.



---------------------



The Art of Battle-Lies

They strike the mind — that’s where they start,
And when it breaks — they own your heart.
One step remains: your soul, your store —
And idiots can’t grasp it’s war.

The sharpest weapon isn’t steel —
It’s lies. And when those lies are real,
They burn like bombs, they rip like tanks —
The filth takes over, ranks by ranks.

The world’s been seized by brazen fraud,
Where truth’s beheaded, mocked, outlawed.
And lies, like sewage, fill the air —
You breathe them in and rot in there.

This mad world’s turned into a pit,
Where every fool believes their ****.
Their “cheese” is laced with poison dreams,
And even clouds drip toxic schemes.

Now lies are rising like a flood —
A storm of screaming, choking mud.
They strike straight in your eyes, your brain,
They smash, repeat, again, again.

They’ll always strike while fools still trust,
And all that’s left will turn to dust.
You barely crawl, the light is gone —
No beacon left to fix upon.

Above the sea of steaming lies
The media’s smoke distorts the skies.
It turns illusion into stench —
A gas that kills, a filthy trench.

And this is war — their hellish trick:
The headlines ***** lies so thick
They drown the world in fear and bile —
But wear the truth and stand awhile.

Truth is your shield, the Spirit’s blaze
Can cut through even Satan’s haze.
Avoid the ****** that serve the dark —
Stay sharp. Let intuition spark.

Your mind must scan, your senses burn —
There’s no regret if you still learn.
You fight near bottom — that is true —
But that just means you’re pushing through.

They all are guilty — traitors breed
Like rats who serve the Devil’s need.
You’re trapped inside a spinning wheel
Of fake desires and false ideals.

It’s all fake needs — designed by lies
To build a hell in friendly guise.
A sea of lies, a death parade —
This isn't life — it's Hell remade.

So here’s the path for minds still clear:
A rebel’s fire, a gaze severe.
This global new-fascistic mess
Proves madness dressed as righteousness.

It ends with rage, a broken path —
Explode this Hell in cleansing wrath.
It’s hard — but walk the way of Light.
If you still walk — you’re not the blight.



---------------------



1.
The filth now rules by fraud and smoke —
Strike back with truth. It’s not a joke.

2.
They lie, they bomb, they blind your sight —
But Spirit burns through every night.

3.
This world’s a swamp of stinking lies —
So light your truth — and let it rise.

4.
Truth is the weapon — aim and fire.



---------------------



Of Vermin and Men

These petty rats in human skins
Gnaw at each other’s flaws and sins.
Their thoughts are thin, their hearts are dry —
A madhouse under rotting sky.

Here traitors reign, and filth holds sway,
While minds of worth are kept at bay.
A diamond blooms in pressure’s womb —
But dullness here has built its tomb.

In these dark woods, the gifted fall
If slime becomes your inner call.
Betray the Light — you’ll rot instead,
For filth is where the roots are fed.

Their patience is a devil’s creed,
Their dullness — genocide of need.
The mad are many, fools abound —
And darkness wins without a sound.

No blood is spilled in modern war —
A needle kills what bombs killed before.
These tiny men, with tiny brains,
Are rabid dogs in broken chains.

Forget their books of lies and dirt —
They praise what’s dumb and call it work.
You're Spirit — only that is true
Within this global mental zoo.

The fool deserves no helping hand —
He's lost in filth, won't understand.
The end is near, the clash will come —
And Reason fights to rise from ****.

Salvation lies in sacred flame,
Not in this madness, not in shame.
A purge will come, a final sweep —
Where tyrants drown, and cowards weep.

The worthy few will find their way
By turning deep inside and stay.
While demons quake, they know their fate —
A cataclysm won’t be late.

And so the stench spreads on the air —
The media gasps in foul despair.
They smell it too — the end is near…
The shameful beast will disappear.



---------------------



Vermin gnaw and darkness reigns,
Brains are thin, but filth remains.
Spirit fights, the fools will fall —
End is coming — purge them all!



---------------------



The Pit of This World

Mandelstam! The PIT! Oh, Mother,
Don’t birth children into Hell.
If you call things true and proper,
Three-fourths of this world’s a shell—

A shell of filth and poison,
While pure hearts like Mandelstam’s light,
Like Osip’s flame, get crushed and broken
Beneath the brute’s vile might.

The brute will call white soot “black,”
The poet, enemy number one.
The filth will swarm and attack—
Jail or madhouse is what they’ll run.

They shot Gumilyov down,
Said, “Serves him right!” with their lies.
Dumb fools fell low, underground,
Beneath the total wicked skies.

And Marina Tsvetaeva’s fate —
They drove her to the noose’s edge.
When beasts drag down human state,
You’re to lie, stay quiet, and hedge?

Is Mandelstam’s pit the truth?
Yes — a world enslaved to evil’s roar.
Be wise and stubborn in your youth —
Create, despite the rotten core.

Cheese traps stink, a fool’s delight —
Their “gifts” to fools who cannot see.
Be lonely — mind extinguished, blight —
If you dwell among the beastly spree.



---------------------



The Pit

Mandelstam’s pit — a hellish trap,
Don’t bring your kids to rot and snap.
Three quarters of the world is slime,
Pure hearts crushed by brute’s harsh crime.

Brutes call black soot pure white,
Poets jailed for speaking right.
Shot Gumilyov, broke the brave,
Tsvetaeva dragged to grave.

This world bows to wicked lies,
Fight on strong — don’t paralyze.
Cheese traps stink, fools love the bait,
Stand alone — or share their fate.



---------------------



Rising from the Knees

The "bonds" have dug into my knees,
I try to rise, but fail to break.
Such is fate of centuries —
The rotten fool believes in fake.

Decay has eaten at the soul —
Worse plague than any CowID.
The darker grows the wicked whole,
Their evil spreads in black deceit.

Fake sicknesses test the ground,
Next camp’s digital and cold.
**** get crushed without a sound,
Hordes of fiends, ruthless and bold.

Each day tighter is the grip —
All controlled through media’s lies.
If you won’t sell out your own ship,
Death will come as sweet surprise.

This will be the cursed prize —
Darkness thickens, chokes the skies.
Only solace left to see —
Countdown to catastrophe.

Cataclysm will crush their schemes,
Filthy fiends will burn in hell.
All the sheep with them will drown —
Count the days — the end will tell.




---------------------



See the Fig...

You open books — you see the fig.
Turn on the box — it’s Hell you find.
All poisoned deep, the chains grow big,
By fascist **** — enslaved the mind.

They rule by lies. Fake science breaks
Our Reason down to shattered shards.
Dark traitors lurk, those filthy snakes
Are everywhere — fools guard the guards.

They trust the myths, the fables told —
Propaganda’s twisted hand.
“Education” bought and sold
By Satan’s grip, corrupting land.

They teach in schools to **** pure thought,
Destroy the Soul, obey commands.
This darkness spreads — a deadly blot,
The shadow grips all mortal lands.

This shadow, haze, has claimed all souls,
No need for gunpowder now.
Psy-terror strikes and takes its toll —
Worse than bombs, it breaks the brow.

It hits the mind, corrupts the core,
Leaves fractures deep inside the brain.
An idiot now, nothing more,
Bloodless conquest, silent reign.

But man’s no moth — a Spirit lives,
A force they fight to ***** and ****.
With psi-weapons evil gives
Its cruel hand, bent on the will.

No fiction here, no idle tales —
The mind is sieved, the truth erased.
So, unity and discipline prevails,
In war, the wise remain encased.

A poem’s compressed emotion —
A message sent to Reason’s door.
A weapon forged with fierce devotion,
My share of dynamite and more.

I seek new ways in hybrid war,
Though old and worn, all paths explored.
To find the method, sharp and raw,
To crush these pests, their rotten hoard.

The world’s a cesspool — no place to stay,
For humans now who seek the light.
Create the tools to clear the way —
The **** will rot, the fiends lose fight.



---------------------



See the Fig...

You open books — it’s all a lie.
The screen’s a Hell where reason dies.
Chains forged by fascist filth and ****,
They feed on minds — their kingdom’s come.

Fake science tears your brain apart,
Dark traitors poison every heart.
Fools swallow myths and twisted tales,
While Satan’s rot spreads through the rails.

They teach to **** the spark inside,
To crush the soul, obey, comply.
No gunpowder — just psychic war,
They break your mind and leave a scar.

Man’s no moth — he’s Spirit’s flame.
They fear the light, they play their game.
Psi-weapons crush, corrupt, confine —
But we will rise. The fight’s divine.

A poem’s not just words, but fire,
A weapon sharp, a rising wire.
Old paths are gone — new war’s begun,
To blow the rotten heap to none.

The world’s a pit, a stinking grave —
But we will fight, be bold, be brave.
Create the tools — the **** will fall,
The fiends will rot — they lose it all.



---------------------



A New Breed of Two-Legged

A new fool bred — a fresh disgrace,
Born in the CowID’s dark place:
He feeds on lies, devours the whole,
Surpassing idiots in soul.

An idiot — one step below,
Digital camps closing slow:
The fool builds them, darkness steers,
Mindless world survives by tears.

Almost left, that twisted land,
With nonsense guiding every hand,
Into that digital hell,
“Inspired” by propaganda’s spell.

Nonsense blends with lies and fear,
For fools — a lifeline, crystal clear;
Propaganda’s closest friend,
A weapon darkness will not end.

The fool, the media, the beast,
Ruling madness never ceased —
Satan’s troops in battle cry,
The beasts grow louder, multiply.

Their howl — the final fight is near:
If the world’s lost its mind to fear,
Worse than bombs or cannon’s roar,
It turns men into pests once more.



---------------------



New Breed of Two-Legged ****

A new-born fool, a twisted spawn,
Birthed by CowID’s cursed dawn.
He swallows lies, a filthy beast —
Outdone the idiot, to say the least.

An idiot’s just a rung below,
Digital camps close in like woe.
This fool’s the builder, Darkness’ slave,
The sane world’s dying, none to save.

Half-dead world dragged by stupid lies,
Into the tech-made hell that flies,
“Inspired” by their toxic spin —
Propaganda’s poisonous grin.

Nonsense thickens, fear and fraud,
For fools, a lifeline deeply flawed.
Propaganda, friend of slime,
Fueling darkness all the time.

This fool, the media, the vile regime,
Ruling madness, Satan’s team.
Their war-cry rises, beasts unite —
The endgame’s howl in darkest night.

The last fight howls — the final strike:
When minds rot deep, the dead alike.
Worse than bombs, worse than their shells,
It turns men into crawling hells.



---------------------



Fools breed fools — the plague’s alive.
Break the chain, or all will die.
Fight the poison, burn the lies —
Raise the flame, let darkness fry!



---------------------



Lies breed lies — no time to wait,
Smash the cage, defy your fate.
Stand your ground, ignite the spark —
Rip the shadows from the dark!


---------------------



Slave to lies, a mind decayed,
Truth’s the sword that won’t be swayed.
Fight misfortunes, break the chain —
Freedom burns within the pain!



---------------------



Lies breed lies — no time to wait,
Smash the cage, defy your fate.
Stand your ground, ignite the spark —
Rip the shadows from the dark!

Slave to lies, a mind decayed,
Truth’s the sword that won’t be swayed.
Fight misfortunes, break the chain —
Freedom burns within the pain!

Chepushila — new breed born,
Fed on lies till all is torn.
Digital camps where shadows dwell,
Crafted lies, a living hell.

Propaganda, friend of fools,
Spinning webs and breaking rules.
Darkness rules, the devils roar,
But we fight for something more.

Eyes wide shut — see nothing clear,
Truth’s the weapon, hold it near.
Rise as one, no more disguise,
Truth’s the fire to burn their lies!



---------------------


Battle Hymn of the Rising Spirit

Chains dig deep, the lies take hold,
Infected minds, their souls grown cold.
But in the dark, a spark ignites —
The Spirit wakes to claim the fight.

Chepushila bred in digital graves,
Lies like venom, puppeteers and slaves.
False truths fed through poisoned streams,
But we revolt — reclaim our dreams!

No more slaves to propaganda’s call,
No more fools to watch the world fall.
Misfortunes spreads, but we resist —
Our clenched fists break through the mist.

Darkness howls its final roar,
But truth will rise, forevermore.
From shattered chains and broken lies,
The Spirit soars — it never dies!

Stand firm, stand proud, defy the night,
Strike down the shadows with blazing light.
The battle’s harsh, the road is steep,
But Spirit’s fire will never sleep.

Lies breed lies — but we breed truth,
Ancient strength, the warrior’s youth.
The time has come, the hour is near,
To cast away the cloak of fear!

Rise up now — the fight is on,
The dawn awaits beyond the dawn.
With Spirit’s power, fierce and true,
The world reborn begins with you!




---------------------



Spirit’s Rise

Beyond the chains of mortal lies,
Where darkness folds and shadow dies,
There shines a flame — Eternal Light,
The Spirit’s birth beyond the night.

No prison walls can hold this fire,
No falsehood dim its pure desire.
It leaps from soul to cosmic sea,
Unbound, it wakes — and sets us free.

From dust and time the veil will part,
Revealing Truth within the heart.
The Spirit’s voice — the primal song —
That breaks the grip of endless wrong.

So rise, O soul, beyond the veil,
Through storm and fire, you shall prevail.
The world remade in Spirit’s flame —
No longer bound by fear or shame.




---------------------



Spirit’s Rise — The Metaphysical Hymn

The worthless breed, a hollow kind,
By CowID’s dark forge defined.
They feed on lies, a poison deep,
A mindless herd, in shadows steep.

Below the fool, a step descend,
Digital camps their fate portend.
The darkness pulls the strings of dread,
A world alive — but almost dead.

With nonsense mixed, the poison spreads,
Fear and lies like chains and threads.
For fools, these shackles shine as gold —
Propaganda’s grip takes hold.

The worthless breed, the vile press,
Satan’s troops in their distress.
The war of beasts grows loud and strong,
A howl that mocks what’s right and wrong.

But Spirit wakes — a flame unbound,
A Light that pierces shadow’s shroud.
No cage of flesh, no chain of lies,
Can hold the truth that never dies.

From dust and void the Spirit climbs,
Beyond the grasp of mortal times.
Its voice, a thunder in the night,
The primal song of inner light.

So rise, O Soul, break free, ascend,
The darkest lies will meet their end.
A world reborn in Spirit’s flame,
No longer bound by fear or shame.



---------------------



Spirit’s Rise — The Hymn of Alien Light

The worthless breed, a hollow kind,
By CowID’s dark forge defined.
They feed on lies, a poison deep,
A mindless herd, in shadows steep.

Below the fool, a step descend,
Digital camps their fate portend.
The darkness pulls the strings of dread,
A world alive — but almost dead.

With nonsense mixed, the poison spreads,
Fear and lies like chains and threads.
For fools, these shackles shine as gold —
Propaganda’s grip takes hold.

The worthless breed, the vile press,
Satan’s troops in their distress.
The war of beasts grows loud and strong,
A howl that mocks what’s right and wrong.

But Spirit wakes — a flame unbound,
A Light beyond this earthly ground,
An alien glow that cuts the night,
Piercing through shadow, pure and bright.

No cage of flesh, no chain of lies,
Can dim the glow that never dies.
From dust and void the Spirit climbs,
Beyond the grasp of mortal times.

Its voice, a thunder in the dark,
A beacon, calling—soul’s true spark.
A primal song, beyond the stars,
That shatters every prison’s bars.

So rise, O Soul, break free, ascend,
The darkest lies will meet their end.
A world reborn in Spirit’s flame,
No longer bound by fear or shame.




---------------------



Alien Light

Lies breed fools, the darkness reigns,
But Spirit burns beyond these chains.
Alien light — fierce, untamed,
Break the cage — burn down their shame!

No more slaves to false command,
Rise as one — take back the land!
In the flame of cosmic fire,
Crush the lies — lift souls higher!



---------------------



Alien Light

Fools in chains, deceived and weak,
Darkness grins — the future’s bleak.
But alien light will scorch the lies,
Tear their masks — watch evil die!

No mercy for the poison breed,
Their twisted reign must bleed, must bleed!
Spirit’s wrath — a ruthless blade,
Burn the filth, no peace be made!



---------------------



Answers Without a Question

Pure conception — like a sprout,
To believe the crap’s a curse.
Feed the sludge, then twist about —
Rot will sink and make things worse.

Do what you will, but still, beware —
“In sweet lies’ name” they lead astray.
Mind, Spirit, Honor — laid bare,
In many crushed, decay holds sway.

Priests’ rabble grows in shameless greed,
Piling nonsense without end.
Truth, like flute notes, softly freed,
Touches only souls that bend.

Quiet whispers, slight and thin —
Then YOU must seek your way.
Only loud and wild within,
Herding sheep in barns they stay.

Only savage howls resemble
Words — but truth is something else.
Heart attuned, the mind must tremble
Crafting thought, not empty spells.

Creativity in thinking —
Free from foolish faith’s control,
Fighting evil, never shrinking —
No example owns that role.

All is INSIDE — why a broker?
Preachers only sell their lies.
Needed just for worldly poker,
Spreading falsehood’s vile disguise.

Intuition, critical sight —
These are answers. Questions—yours.
Forget the shadows, lose the blight,
And silence evil’s endless sores.



---------------------



“Medicine,” They Say

“Medicine” of genocide—
Fanatic servant’s role.
CowID showed the bitter side:
Heal with them, you’re losing soul.

In the “red zones,” creatures knew—
Money bought a deadly game.
Masses sent where none withdrew,
Fast they marched to death and shame.

Oncology, their perfect guise—
Cancer cure? Just devil’s trick.
Secret deals, the silent lies,
Measures dark and merciless, thick.

Children crushed by vile “shots,”
Vaccines killing resistance—
Direct harm, the deadly plots,
Breaking life with cold persistence.

Managers of pills and trade,
**** that fuels this killing spree.
“Medicine” — a slow death made,
A creeping, torturous decree.

Genocide’s “medicine,”
Crafted by control’s command.
Helps the “doctor” filth within,
Drive the evil, DNA planned.



---------------------



Boredom of False Life

Life’s dull boredom—truth severe,
The whole world’s fake, that’s clear.
Spirit’s realms hold all the keys—
Hints, not rules, no guarantees.

All commands, dark mandates,
Are marks of rot, cruel fates.
Heed them and your soul will die—
Death in life, no need to try.

Mind without Spirit—Satan’s claim,
That’s why fascism rules the game.
God’s spark traded off by fools
For wallets, bags, and other tools.

“Just normal!”—says the rude buffoon,
Normal now is dumbness’ tune.
Satan’s work well done, it seems,
Feeding cracks in human dreams.

Amidst the fools, no joy is found,
Fascist power grips the ground.
They’re many—draining all the strength,
A gray biomass at arm’s length.

Pushing crowds at checkout lines,
Elbows sharp, their paths define
The way to New Hell’s gate—
Close enough to seal their fate.

Grayness worse than Satan’s fire,
A path with fools—an endless mire.
Trust the soul, that’s all you can—
Lost among the dull and ******.



---------------------



The Crown of Evil

War criminals — fascist breed,
Renegades from reason’s creed,
Soulless rot with no remorse,
On the battlefield—cowards’ course.

Civilians bear the blows instead,
“War art” shifts—a game of dread:
First, flee the city, then unload
On peaceful lives—a hellish code.

Send more innocents to graves—
Be a hero among the slaves.
Feasts you’ll hold with fools serene,
While your hands stay clean, unseen.

When you come disarmed, or lame,
Shoot the peaceful—feed the flame.
The threshold’s near, the dark abyss,
Where fiends won’t find a place in bliss.

Hell’s gates crowded, spots run thin—
Demons need their space to grin.
Meanwhile, all rot side by side,
In this dull world, death’s slow tide.

This is no life, but fascism’s grip,
A global chokehold, sanity’s slip.
Idiocy crowned the norm,
Betrayal like a common storm.

You’ll be devoured by hellish rift,
If madness takes you in its drift.
Submissive, sold—there’s most in line,
The “brave fool” marching toe to line.

Turned fascist, soul erased,
Darkness thickens, evil’s haste.
No mind left to counterstrike,
Fascism grows more venomous, alike.

Consciousness — the final wall
To fascism’s deadly fall.
Stronger when the soul is whole,
Logic kept beyond control.

Final spasms, dull and mute,
To New Hell, **** absolute.
Under fascism’s crushing sway,
The jackals prey, the weak decay.

Monsters reap what they deserve,
Stupid masses lose their nerve.
Fascism’s fall and decay—
History’s end, the price to pay.

Heaven’s purge will crown this fate,
The crown of evil, harsh and great.



---------------------



Fascist States and Their Pocket Terror-****

Terror-**** — a tool of fools,
Slips in every ***** rule:
**** in fascists’ service hired—
Governments—forever mired.

Problems made to solve by chains,
Strengthen slavery’s cruel reigns.
We’ll all rot in camps, confined—
Trapped by lies, by design.

They blew up towers—C.I.A.,
Sovok ghosts to pave the way,
So the Yank could never rise,
Head bowed low beneath the skies.

No prospects left at all,
Foolishness became the law:
CowID revealed the lies
In these wild, twisted times.

**** grow brazen, vile each year,
Lawless reign feeds fear and sneer.
Fascism worse than ******’s days—
Shots replaced with needle’s haze.

New wars sparked by cruel design,
Chaos pushes world to decline.
Rule by terror, rule by fear,
Drags the world down—pit so near.




---------------------

Upside Down

“They say my claims want to upend the world entire.
But how is that so bad, to flip a world already mired?”
— Giordano Bruno, 16th century.


The world’s been flipped for ages—
And “up” is just more crap.
Who speaks the truth like that
Gets fed to the fire’s gap.

Galileo, had he dared,
Would join the flames declared:
Half-men with smart-*** face
Spread heresy apace,

Killing minds, destroying sense.
Now lies grow—no defense!
Proof? CowID’s disgrace—
Science wiped without a trace.

Falsehood wiped the soul of thought,
Scholars lost, their minds caught
By endless webs of lies:
The media’s dark disguise.

If not a traitor foul,
The world’s false noise will howl.
It’ll swallow all—no more—
A global nonsense roar.

Down you’ll sink—hear the sound—
Where silence grips the ground.
Most will fade; just few survive.
The world’s turned upside down—alive.



---------------------


The Art of Slavery’s Rise

"The art of slavery’s rise,"
Karl Marx once prophesized.
Each generation slips in pain,
Now Spirit’s lost, nearly slain.

This was shown in Ukraine’s war,
Paid **** fighting, nothing more.
At approval, blood runs cold—
Harbingers of doom unfold.

Not in Bible, but on screen—
Propaganda fools are seen.
This mad world will soon descend
To a New Hell without end—

Fit for **** and filth alike,
Where the darkness rides the spike.



---------------------



Tests at School

Guesswork, not real knowing —
That’s the exam today.
Rot your kids’ minds, then showing
Fascism’s open way.

Dumb fools fuel fascism’s fire,
They’re the perfect raw supply.
Roots of Satan’s twisted choir
In fake faiths live and lie.

If you trust the false science —
Now a faith, a cruel snare,
To be just like the dogged silence,
Guesswork’s lies you must declare.

Propaganda piles on nonsense,
All in all, it’s sheer disgrace:
Soon the last sharp mind’s absence
Leaves a narrow, dumbed-out space.

Obedience drives to camps anew,
A global prison cell.
A red cross on a white flag’s hue —
For broken minds, a hell.

And CowID was just a warm-up,
A test for blind compliance.
Believe the *******, no hiccup—
Don’t listen, starve in silence.



---------------------



School Tests — A Fascist Drill

Guesswork, not real knowledge —
That’s how they test today.
Rot your kids’ minds, pledge homage
To fascism’s cruel way.

Dumb sheep feed the fascist beast,
Perfect fools on tight supply.
Satan’s roots in lies unleashed —
Fake gods preaching you must die.

Trust the lies of fake science?
Now a dogma, blind and cold.
Want to be a soulless silence?
Guess the crap they’ve sold and told.

Propaganda shovels ****,
Total chaos, pure disgrace.
The last bright mind’s buried—hit—
A dumbed-down, dead-end place.

Obedience herds to camps,
Worldwide prisons in the plan.
Red crosses wave on flags — the stamps
Of broken heads and banned.

CowID’s just a warm-up game,
Blind faith’s cruel initiation.
Swallow *******, bear the shame —
Dissent means starvation.




---------------------



School Tests — Fascism’s Drill

Guess, don’t think — that’s the game,
Kids’ brains rotted, minds enslaved.
Welcome fascism’s ****** flame,
Where all free thought is crushed and shaved.

Dumb fools fuel the fascist grind,
Perfect **** in endless rows.
Satan’s spawn in churches blind,
False gods preach while spirit goes.

Believe the lies of fake “science”?
A cruel cult now fully grown.
Want to join the soulless silence?
Swallow poison, choke on bone.

Propaganda ***** non-stop,
Chaos reigns, the mind’s demise.
Last free spark? They’ll make it drop,
Dumbing down the herd to lies.

Obedience leads straight to hell —
Worldwide camps, no end in sight.
Red crosses mark the death knell,
Broken bodies, stolen rights.

CowID was just warm-up pain —
Blind faith’s test, obey or starve.
Drink the poison, bear the chain —
Speak out? Get crushed, lose your nerve.



---------------------



School Tests — Fascism’s Brilliant Plan

Guess, don’t think — that’s school’s bright goal,
Brains on sale, all minds on lease.
Fascism’s finest mind-control,
Where freedom’s locked and sold as grease.

Dumb fools? Perfect factory breed,
Fascism’s VIPs in line.
Satan’s lobby in God’s steed,
Preaching lies dressed up as “divine.”

Fake science? Oh, the sacred truth!
A cult for sheep who’ve lost their spine.
Want to join the soulless youth?
Swallow ******* — tastes like brine.

Propaganda’s endless drip,
Floods the mind with lies and fear.
The last spark dies — now watch them slip
Into the herd, dumb and clear.

Obedience — the golden key
To camps worldwide, fresh and neat.
Red crosses mean “obedience, please,”
Where broken souls and bodies meet.

CowID — just a friendly test,
For blind faith’s ultimate thrill.
Drink the Kool-Aid, pass the quest,
Or starve — dissenters fit the bill.



---------------------



Wake Up, Don’t Sing

Wake up, don’t sing —
They’ve robbed us blind.
Above you cling
The **** and liars, unrefined.

They breed their filth,
The same old trash.
We’re their batch,
And madness’ lash.

Always ready to obey,
To **** the soul inside,
And moan again the same old way,
In lies they proudly hide.

Don’t sing, just whine —
That’s the ****’s desire.
Their screams divine
Are just death’s choir.

Their lies will **** —
Wars and junk combined.
Nations shrill —
They get what they’re assigned,

If these vermin
All silently endure.
Their great success
Is poison pure.

Like food, they say:
“Eat up, shut your trap!”
Years will pass away —
And death will snap.

We’re building camps
With marching steps aligned,
Under Darkness’ reign,
Our souls confined.

But Judgment Day
Draws near for **** and slaves.
They’ll die who pray
And lick their graves,

Who trust, who lie,
Who bow and crawl,
Who are the fools
In stinking holes and all.

Out from those holes —
The court severe will call.
The executioners —
To Hell, the new pitfall.

Here Hell’s a joke —
Just infernal chains,
Ruled by the snake —
Mind’s fatal stains.

Only those will save
Who sold no honor cheap —
In work and fight,
Destroying pests that creep.



---------------------



Wake Up — Don’t Sing Your Fool’s Song

Wake up, don’t croon —
They robbed you blind,
****’s been running the tune,
Lies they sell, unkind.

They spit their filth,
Just nasty breed.
We’re their garbage,
Madness’ seed.

Ready to obey —
Soul killers in line,
Whining fools who play
The same **** whine.

Don’t sing, just ***** —
That’s the ****’s desire.
Their howl’s a switch
To torture’s fire.

Their lies will **** —
Trash and wars combined.
Nations ****-****,
Fools get what they’re signed.

If vermin like these
You silently abide,
Congrats, you’ve seized
The plague’s high tide.

Like food they say:
“Shut up, just eat!”
Years tick away —
Death’s knocking, sweet.

We build camps now,
Marching in line,
Under darkness’ scowl,
Souls confined.

But Judgment’s near —
For slime and crooks.
They’ll burn, it’s clear,
Licking tyrants’ boots.

Who lie and bow,
***** for their gain,
Who dumbly kowtow
In their filthy stain.

Out from the pits —
The court will tear.
Executioners —
Hell’s new lair.

Here hell’s a joke —
Infernal chains,
Ruled by the snake,
Brains’ fatal stains.

Only those saved
Who kept their pride,
In fight and toil,
Cast filth aside.



---------------------



Wake the Hell Up — Quit Your Stupid Song

Wake the hell up — stop your whining,
They robbed your ***, and keep on lying.
**** above you, dirt below,
They spew their filth — the endless show.

They’re nothing but a sewer’s spawn,
A madman’s cult that drags us on.
We’re just the dirt beneath their boots,
Feeding their rage, their twisted roots.

Always ready to obey,
**** the spirit, rot away.
Whining fools, a constant moan —
Suckers hooked on pain alone.

Don’t sing, you pathetic crybaby —
That’s the vermin’s sick decree.
Their lies like knives, their screams a noose,
Your damnation, their excuse.

Their ******* kills — wars and trash,
Nations crawling in the ash.
If you let these ******* win,
You’re dirt beneath their filthy skin.

Like chow to beasts — just eat and shut,
Ignore the fire, embrace the rut.
Years will pass — the noose will snap,
Your sorry neck beneath their trap.

We’re building camps in plain daylight,
Marching dumb under their blight.
Slaves to darkness, soul’s demise,
Doomed to watch the world’s demise.

But soon the hammer’s gonna fall,
On vermin crawling, slime and all.
They’ll burn the lickspittles down,
The **** who bow, the broken clown.

Who lie, who kneel, who sell their souls,
Who rot in their filthy holes.
Out from their pits — a brutal purge,
Executioners will face the scourge.

Hell here’s a joke — infernal crap,
Ruled by snakes with venom’s snap.
Brains fried, minds crushed, no hope inside,
Only those with honor ride.

The rest are filth, the ****, the slaves,
Doomed to drown in their own graves.
But those who fight, who stand, who dare,
Will cast these monsters into air.



---------------------



Wake the **** Up — Shut Your ******* Mouth

Wake the **** up — stop your dumb-*** song,
They robbed you blind — you played along.
**** on top, lying snakes below,
They crap on you — and still you bow.

Filth-ridden *******, spawn of hell,
Dragging us down with their sick spell.
We’re cannon fodder, slave meat on trays,
Feeding their madness, rotting days.

Always ready to **** your soul,
Crush your spirit, swallow whole.
Whining cowards, crying fools —
Hooked on chains, dumb-*** tools.

Don’t sing, ***** — just whine and beg,
That’s the anthem of the legless leg.
Their lies slice deep, their screams choke tight,
You’re condemned to rot in their endless night.

******* kills — war’s filthy feast,
Nations crawling, humanity ceased.
If you let those monsters win the game,
You deserve every ounce of shame.

Eat your crap, shut your mouth tight,
Ignore the screams — embrace the night.
Years will burn, the noose will snap,
You’ll choke on your own coward’s trap.

Building camps — right under your nose,
Marching dumb through their deadly shows.
Slaves to darkness, mind erased,
A future lost, a world disgraced.

But soon the reckoning’s coming fast,
The vermin’s time will breathe its last.
They’ll burn the lickspittles alive,
The snake-tongued ******* who connive.

Those who bow, who lie, who crawl,
Rot in their stinking, filthy hole.
Out from the pits — a ruthless purge,
Executioners face the scourge.

Hell here’s a joke — a sick, fake show,
Ruled by snakes that poison blow.
Brains fried, minds smashed to dust,
Only fighters rise from the rust.

The rest are trash, ****, and slaves,
Doomed to drown in their shallow graves.
But warriors standing, hearts on fire,
Will burn this filth — raise hell higher.



---------------------



Wake the **** Up — Shut the **** Up

Wake the **** up — quit your **** whining,
They robbed your guts while you’re reclining.
****-rats on top, liars all around,
******* on you while you kiss the ground.

Fascist filth, shitspawn elite,
Dragging us deep beneath their feet.
We’re cannon fodder, dogshit cheap,
Feeding their rage, buried deep.

Ready to **** your soul outright,
Crush your spark, ***** your light.
Crybabies bawling, dumb-*** slaves,
Chained to lies, dug their graves.

Don’t you sing — *****, just whimper,
That’s the song of the weak and limper.
Their lies cut like a butcher’s knife,
Welcome to Hell — this ******-up life.

******* breeds war — a ***** feast,
Nations crawl, their greatness ceased.
If you let these vermin reign,
You’re **** yourself — you own the pain.

Eat your ****, shut your hole tight,
Swallow the lies, embrace the night.
Years will burn, your rope will snap,
You’ll choke in your coward’s trap.

Camps rising right beneath your nose,
March like sheep to your own doze.
Slaves to darkness, minds erased,
Your future dead, your world disgraced.

But Judgment’s coming — fast and cold,
Vermin’s fate soon will unfold.
They’ll torch the lickspittles, rat-faced clowns,
The ***-kissers who wear the crowns.

Those who bow, who lie, who crawl,
Rot in filth, condemned to fall.
Out from the pits — a ruthless purge,
Executioners feel the surge.

Hell here’s a joke — a staged disgrace,
Ruled by snakes that spit in your face.
Brains fried, minds smashed to dust,
Only fighters rise from rust.

Trash and slaves — all doomed to die,
Drowning deep in their own lie.
But warriors burning, hearts ablaze,
Will raze this hell, end this craze.



---------------------



Wake the **** Up — Shut the **** Up

Wake the **** up — stop your pitiful *******,
They’re robbing your soul while you’re drooling and twitching.
Scumbags on thrones, liars with venomous grins,
They ***** your life raw — you lick their sins.

Fascist shitspawn, vermin’s elite,
Dragging the world to its ******* defeat.
We’re cannon fodder, their human trash,
Fed to the grinder, ground to ash.

Soul killers, spirit murderers,
Crushing all hope, feeding disorders.
Crybaby slaves, whimpering fools,
Chained and brainwashed — puppets, tools.

Don’t sing your lies, whine like a *****,
That’s the anthem of cowards, a pathetic glitch.
Their venomous words slice sharper than knives,
Welcome to Hell — your cursed lives.

******* spawns war, a feast of the ******,
Nations enslaved by a psychotic hand.
Let these vermin reign, and you’re one of the breed,
A cesspool of filth, a festering seed.

Eat ****, shut the **** up, swallow the lies,
Drown in the darkness, starve your own cries.
Years will burn down your fragile facade,
Choke on your cowardice, ****-made god.

Camps rise like monuments to despair,
Marching blindfolded, choking on air.
Slaves to darkness, erased from the light,
Your future’s a corpse, buried tonight.

But Judgment’s coming, cold as a blade,
Vermin’s screams, their last masquerade.
They’ll burn the ***-kissers, lickspittles, drones,
The sycophants hiding behind brittle bones.

Those who bow, who lie, who crawl,
Rot in filth — awaiting their fall.
Out from the pits, the purge will ignite,
Executioners rise in fury and spite.

This hell is a joke, a staged nightmare,
Ruled by the ******* who don’t even care.
Brains fried, souls crushed in dust,
Only the strong rise, forged in disgust.

Trash and slaves — doomed and decayed,
Drowning in lies that they blindly obeyed.
But warriors with fire, hearts pure and loud,
Will raze this hellscape, shatter the shroud.

Wake the **** up — no more delay,
Burn the *******, torch the decay.
Rip off your chains, break the mold,
This is the reckoning — ruthless and cold.

No mercy given, no forgiveness earned,
Hell’s gates will open — their fate is burned.
Rise from the ashes, spit in their face,
Destroy the poison, reclaim your place.
Big Virge Aug 2014
You know it seems that through life ... ?  
Propaganda and Lies .....    
are fed by those guys .....  
who wear ... " Corporate Ties "  
  
So ....  
Don't be surprised ...  
if your life seems ... contrived ...  
  
The .... "Systemic Rise" ....  
of .... Divisive Styles ....  
has been ... long designed ...  
by those who reside ....  
  
in places with houses  
they've painted ............  
in ....... "White" .......  
  
or those ....................  
" Numbered " ......... 10 .........  
where they and their friends  
keep feeding us Lies ...  
Again and Again ... !!!!!!!!!!  
  
See ...  
It's all a pretense ...  
their calls for Defence ... !!!  
  
" Defence of the realm !!!"  
while they're at the helm ....  
is something the masses ....  
now needs to ... " Dispel !!! "  
  
because it's quite clear  
they're  just helping  
..... " Themselves " ..... !!!!!!  
  
Propaganda ..... Sells ..... !!!  
just like their talk ... " SMELLS ' ..........  
of something that ... " STINKS " ... !!!!!!!!!  
  
Something .... "Prepared" ....  
in their public speech ... Scripts ...  
The type of lyrics ...  
I try .... NOT TO .... enlist .... !!!  
  
cos' ... it's all about ... tricks ...  
to make the masses live  
in poverty .... Sooooo .... !!!  
that their brains Overload .... !!!!!!!!  
  
No ... "Old Kent Road" ... !?!  
or ... getting past ... GO ... !!!  
  
"Well, what do you know ... ?  
my lifestyle's so ... QUICK ... !  
while theirs seems ...  
Sooo ....... Sloooow ....... !!!!!!!!!  
  
Well .... Ignorance leads ...  
to you paying a Toll  
Government polls ...  
are clearly ... "Bank-Rolled"  
  
So ... what did you do ... ?  
with your power to vote ... ?  
  
Huh ... fall for their lies ... !?!  
Well I think ... you may find ...  
You jumped on ... "The Wrong Ride !"  
  
and now it would seem  
you are paying the price ... !!!  
Inflated gas hikes ...  
No good schools for your child ... !?!  
or homework for them  
and you wonder why ... ???  
  
We've now got these Problems ... !!!!?!!!!!  
  
Our leaders ... "conceal" ... !  
and are ... NOT ... Holyfield ... !!!  
  
So .... are NOT .... !!!!!  
" The REAL DEAL !!!!!!!!! "  
  
but feed ... Propaganda ...  
with PUNCH like ... " Evander !!! " ...  
  
while lyrics i'm writing ...  
keep biting like ... TYSON ...  
which clearly is why ...  
most people get ... "Frightened" ... !  
  
by wordplay ... I use ...  
that proves that i'm "Shrewd" ...  
what i'm saying to you ...    
is to  ... D i ss e c t  ... The News ... !  
  
and .... Government Views .... !  
Don't let them ... confuse ...  !!!  
through moves that they use ...  
  
Political coups .......  
are used as a ... Ruse ...  
to keep you from seeing  
what really is ... TRUE ...  
their complete disregard  
for .... Public Issues ....  
  
Those that affect ... ME ... !!!  
and those that affect ... YOU .. !!!.  
  
if you turn TEN around  
it just becomes ... NET ... !!!  
  
Well .......  
The trap's long been ... SET... !  
to keep people ... DOWN ...  
and wearing .. A FROWN ... !!!  
  
Unless you are wearing  
A Wig ... and ... A Gown ...  
and clearly ... Ofcourse ...  
All These ... Government Clowns ... !!!  
  
So ... How does that sound ... ?  
Am I .... Lying to You ... !?!  
or am I just ... Trying ...  
to pass on ... Some Truth ...  
about ... Propaganda ...  
and Lies .... Leaders USE ...  
to give themselves ... Pounds ...  
through trust they ... Abuse ... !!!!!  
  
See ... " The Poverty Gap " ...  
is all ... part of their plan ...  
  
Immigrants this & Immigrants that !!!  
Their words divide masses and  
" Widens " ....... The Gap .............  
while they plan .... Rubbing Hands .... !!!  
  
See .... Communities .....  
that are filled with ... "PEACE" ...  
RELY ON ............... UNITY .......... !!!!!!!  
  
Which In Turn ........  
should then .... mean ....  
that they ... " No Longer Need "  
Heavy Handed .... Police .... !!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Now ..... Capitalists ......  
are just New Age Fascists  ......  
or ..... Yes you have guessed ..... !!!!!  
are New Age ..................... Separatists ............  
  
So ...... Who in the end .....  
Benefits ...... from all this ..... ??????  
  
Please ..... THINK about this .....  
before ..... Parting Your Lips ..... !!!!!  
  
if we hate each other ...  
because of our ... Colour ...  
or ... because of ... Pride ...  
that we should put ... ASIDE ... !!!!!!!!!  
  
These people in Power ....  
just sit back and .... Smile ....  !!!!!!  
  
and keep passing laws ...  
that ensure that the poor ...  
STAY ... " Right Where They Are ... !!! "  
  
Are you with me so far ... ???  
The rich just get richer ...  
and watch the rest ... " wither "  
  
because of ... The Strain ... !!!  
APPLIED ... to ... Our Brains ... !!!!!!!  
  
from .... riding on trains  
to bills we must pay ...  
just to maintain ...  
A Life ... " Less Restrained " ... !!!    
  
Well that's what they'll say ....  
So ... Let's ... Check That Okay ... !???!  
  
Working ... " LONGER DAYS "  
to earn ... " HIGHER PAY " ...  
so you can get ... A BREAK ...  
like a ........ NICE Holiday .......... !!!!!!  
  
but ...... travel these days  
can now ..... create Pain ..... !!!  
  
TERRORISTS .... they Complain ....  
may be on Your Plane ... !!!!!!!!!!!?!!!!!!!!!!  
  
So you now NEED A BREAK !!!!!  
After Your ... Holiday ... !!!!!!?!!!!!  
  
It's all part of the game ...  
that's run by ... These Snakes ... !!!  
who clearly are ..... FAKE ..... !!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
I think its time .....  
WE CALLED ... " Time " ... !!!  
  
on those ....  
Running .... OUR LIVES .... !!!!  
  
through their ... False ...  
............ Diatribe ...............  
  
Propaganda ........  
  
annnndddd ... LIES ... !!!!!!!!
Title says it all .....

Listen Here :

https://soundcloud.com/user-16569179/propaganda-lies

Governments & what they use, as their guide to, Governance ... ?!?
The Shackles

"Diplomacy means stroking dogs
Until their muzzles fit."
— Friedrich Nietzsche


Diplomacy, politics,
"Good manners" and hard grind —
All lead the same way. And the whiners
Get crushed to dust, confined.

When muzzles fit, the chains click tight,
The guard dogs prowl around.
The shackles weigh on every mind —
Break free, don’t fear the sound!




---------------------



Black Mark on a Mad World

A black mark brands this world insane —
Stop toiling just for food and rent.
They’ll take it all — a new dictator’s reign,
The **** are always evil’s rent.




---------------------



Walking Among the Masses

No terror breaks you down inside,
If you’re not far from their own kind —
A foolish, pitiful weak mind.



---------------------



The Noose Hung Over This World

"You must prepare: either mind to understand,
Or rope to hang yourself by your own hand."
— Antisthenes, 4th century BC


If wisdom grows enough to see,
The noose appears — first step to flee.
Decay’s horror chills the brain,
And fools beside you bring the pain.

Understanding starts to rise,
The struggle wakes, the spirit tries.
But strength dissolves in dark’s cold grip —
No slave will make the final trip.

Awareness spirals round and round:
At last you grasp, the fools have bound
The noose that chokes this ruined land —
And all this world is doomed to stand.




---------------------



The Noose Hung Over This World

"Prepare yourself: with mind to see,
Or rope to end your misery."
— Antisthenes, 4th century BC


When reason hits — the first step’s death,
Decay’s foul stench steals all your breath.
The fool beside you, enemy close,
In this rot, all hope is lost.

The mind expands, the fight begins,
But strength dissolves, the darkness wins.
No slave can break this hellish bind —
Doomed in shadow, trapped and blind.

The truth spins down in twisted rings:
The noose is made by fools and kings,
Tied tight around this world’s disgrace —
A wreck, a cesspit, a dead place.



---------------------



Managing a Bacterial Colony

Like a colony of germs—
An “atomic” solo soul,
But in countless throngs it squirms,
Its goals a cruel control.

They seem to move by choice,
Yet nature hides the strings—
No true free will, no voice,
Just vectors pulling things.

That vector’s coded tight
Within each bio-gear.
A “prosector” out of sight
Directs from far and near—

Leading mute colonies blind
To digital camps they’re sent,
Where strict commands unwind,
And whole swarms face torment.

But not all die away—
They spare the deadliest breed:
The ruthless, sharp and grey,
With spirit drained, no seed...




---------------------



Colony Control

Like germs in colonies,
An “atom” lost alone,
But countless, slaves and keys,
Their goals by monsters sewn.

They move as if by choice,
But nature’s just a lie —
No freedom, no true voice,
Just vectors pushing by.

That code’s injected deep,
Inside the bio-slave,
A butcher’s hand will reap,
Their strings pulled by the grave.

A “prosector” commands
From shadows cold and far,
Dragging dumb, mute bands
To camps behind the bar.

There, digital hell waits —
Whole colonies erased.
Only toxic, cruel greats
Survive — their souls debased.

The fiercest, cold and grim,
No spirit left to find,
A new breed born from sin,
Dead hearts, but bodies blind...



---------------------



Ruins of Mind

Ruins of mind —
Skeletons of lies,
Darkness swallows
What’s otherwise.

Fools rejoice —
**** thinks for all,
Builds and leads,
Blind to the fall.

The idiot knows not —
Their fate is sealed,
To camps they march —
No mercy revealed...




---------------------



Activity and Interaction

Fools were active —
Half the pain.
But INTERACTIVE
Inside that game,

Where chimeras swarm —
A "virtual world"?
Means all is lost —
Fake cheese unfurled.

While real mousetraps snap
In daylight clear.
Skill won’t save you —
It’s the price, my dear,

That they will pay...
Those “platinum” pawns,
Whose “life” costs dearly
Till the Monster dawns.

Mind your head —
This question’s sharp;
Know the game you’re in,
Or be torn apart.




---------------------



The Rightness of Effort

Begin with courage, skill, and might—
Finish well what you ignite.
Rushing brings a shallow taste,
Dragging out wastes time and haste.

Rightness in the work you do
Is the pledge that sees it through.
Fools just babble, endless noise,
You who create—half-god, not toys.

Drive yourself to tired bone,
Or rest too much, you’ll reap alone.
Only little gains you’ll see—
Grieve at Death’s inevitability.

Death will weigh and judge it all—
This moment is your rise or fall.
Weakness, lies, and coward’s cries,
Fuel the pain where honor dies.

So be truthful, brave, and strong,
In each task, right every wrong.
Then Death will raise you, not defeat—
And make your passing truly sweet.




---------------------



A Mix

A mix of madness and TEMPLATE —
That’s the “mind” of most today.
Why create clones? They replicate—
Billions lost in dull array.

No nature lives within these fiends—
Only STUPIDITY in form,
“Raised” by lies, their fiery means
Wound the soul, a silent storm.

Soulless throngs rise past the sky,
Madness reigns and smothers all.
Wise voices fade, grow faint and shy—
Turning humans into thrall.

This madness grows like avalanche
In a world already spent.
Underneath that crushing branch
We’ll vanish—idiot’s intent.

Idiot worse than **** below,
Through them Evil strikes and tears.
But the fool will never know—
Blinded by his own despairs.




---------------------



Militant Stupidity

"To always be right, to charge ahead,
Without a doubt—that’s the great art
By which dull fools the world have led."
— William Thackeray, Vanity Fair’s heart

Fierce stupidity, no doubt allowed—
Charge forward! I’m the truth, the force!
With brutal shove, break ice and cloud,
Crush stones and barriers off their course.

The path to “success” I always make—
Success alone, immense, supreme!
All else I crush, all foes I break,
Those who oppose? Just sweep—extreme!

If many chase this ruthless way,
Then chaos reigns and madness swells—
A bedlam where the fools hold sway,
And reason dies where terror dwells.



---------------------



Clear Vision

To see with clarity —
A danger near,
They’ll twist your mind,
That’s half the fear.

Each hour brings
A haunting sight:
The horror born
Of Strada’s blight —

Unending grief,
A restless ache,
A heavy road
Through Hell to take.




---------------------



Collapse

Ideas lined
Like dominos,
Built by a Fiend —
All **** that flows.

Then one shove —
Down to Hell they fall.
Fool stays mute,
While Fiend takes all.




---------------------



Collapse

Ideas fall
Like rotten bones—
Built by ****,
Pure **** and stones.

One hard shove—
They crash to Hell.
Fool shuts up—
The ******* fell.




---------------------



Religion — The Ideology of Broken Slaves

Pray to your god, the weak and hollow,
For patience, meekness — a wretched pledge.
This keeps you chained in darkness shallow,
Rotting in a fake-*** heaven’s edge.



---------------------



Horoscope ******-Viruses

Aries, Cancers... ****** traits!
******-virus, horoscope lies —
You swallow stench and twisted fakes,
A fool beneath the smoggy skies.

Scams herded like a nation's flock,
They multiply, but won’t confess
The damage done inside your clock —
A secret kept by dark distress.

The media's agenda drops
From “high above,” they know the game:
To dull the mind, the **** that props
The rotten crew — you’ll never name.

Clicks and twitches for the “roof” —
Horoscopes among their lies.
Media's all sell their poison proof,
Drowned deep in fog where truth just dies.

Astrology’s a science, sure.
Media's the fake-pseudoscience brand,
A place where lies grow dark and pure —
They eat your brain like spider’s hand.



---------------------


Like Locked in a Cage

Crystals form of family’s madness,
When fading lifts the fragile veil.
That veil won’t last — time’s quick to madness,
And nonsense rules where truth grows pale.

Two egos, rigid, cold, and stubborn,
Can’t bend or yield in any fight —
In matters grave, they clash and burden,
Like prisoners trapped, enduring blight.




---------------------




Newspeak

They mold the "community" with Newspeak —
A "new" community, they say.
But Newspeak’s damage runs too deep:
It breeds half-men in its sway.




---------------------



No Rights for Madness!

No franchise for the crazy —
Burn it down, destroy the scene!
Think you’ll hit the lowest? Lazy —
No rights down there, just flee!

Fall fast, then jump like brute,
Break the bottom, claim your place.
But the depths? They’re absolute —
And madness wins the race.

There’s always lower, lower still,
No rights exist beneath that pit.
Hell draws close with iron will —
And madness grows, won’t quit.




---------------------



The World’s Mammon

Mammon worldwide starts to march,
Soon to visit Charon’s shore.
Even he will dread the arch —
And close Hell’s gates once more.

Charon fears — he shuts the pit,
Saving demons from their fate.
Serving edges — this is it,
His grim joy, the Devil’s gate.

Mammon drifts, condemned to sway,
By Hell’s doorstep, doomed to roam.
Vanished soon — a new-born way,
A brand new man to claim the throne.

Through gold and lies, again will rise
That spawn to shake this Earth’s repose.
And bring the tremors, shatter skies —
When Mammon’s dark new chapter grows.



---------------------



The World’s Mammon

Mammon’s plague now stalks the earth,
Heading fast to Charon’s gate.
Even Death recoils in wrath —
Hell itself must close its fate.

Charon shudders, shuts the pit,
Saves the demons from the fire.
He who guards the shadow’s grit,
Serves the edge of grim desire.

Mammon writhes, a cursed spawn,
Chains of Hell will hold it tight.
Soon it dies — a new dawn
Breeds a fiend to spread the blight.

Gold and lies, the twisted breed,
Rise again to shake the ground.
Earth will shiver, quake, and bleed —
As Mammon’s doom descends profound.



---------------------



World’s Mammon — The Deathspawn

Mammon’s curse has cracked the sky,
Marching straight to Charon’s door.
Death shudders, can’t deny —
Hell’s gates slam forevermore.

Charon cowers, seals the pit,
Saves the demons from the flames.
Darkness grins — the cursed writ,
Serving chaos, hell’s own games.

Mammon writhes, a festering blight,
Tied to Hell’s unholy chains.
Soon it dies — but from the night,
Sprouts new plague to spread the pains.

Gold and lies, the poison seed,
Rise again — the earth will bleed.
Shattered bones and broken breath —
Mammon drags the world to death.




---------------------



Mammon’s Rot: The Final Plague

Mammon’s plague — a roaring beast,
Lunging straight at Charon’s feast.
Death recoils — Hell’s gates will slam,
Doomed to burn in death’s cruel jam.

Charon shivers, seals the tomb,
Saves the demons — seals their doom.
Hell’s own servant, chaos’ blade,
Feeds on screams the darkness made.

Mammon writhes in chains of rot,
Suffocates the world with blot.
It will die? No — spawn anew,
Slaughter dressed in lies and glue.

Gold’s false glitter, venom’s seed,
Breeds again to **** and bleed.
Earth will quake beneath the weight —
Mammon drags the world to fate.

In hellfire’s grip the shadows scream,
Feeding on a twisted dream.
All is lost, the soul decays —
Mammon’s curse forever stays.



---------------------



Mammon’s Curse — The Abyss Unleashed

Mammon, rot incarnate, slithers vile and fierce,
Dragging Charon’s throne into a blood-soaked pierce.
Death itself recoils in dread and shame,
Hell’s gates slam shut on this corrupted flame.

Charon shudders, seals the ****** domain,
Saving fiends to torment souls again.
Hell’s grim warden, sword of black despair,
Feeding on the cries that choke the air.

Mammon writhes in chains of filthy decay,
Suffocates the world in plague and grey.
Not dead — reborn in filth and lies,
A monstrous spawn beneath poisoned skies.

Gold’s sick glitter, serpent’s seed,
Breeds anew to grind and bleed.
Earth shudders under hellish weight,
Mammon drags all to final fate.

In infernal claws the darkness screams,
Feeding on the last of fractured dreams.
Souls dissolved, bones turned to dust —
Mammon’s curse: eternal rust.

No mercy, no light — only endless night,
A kingdom forged in madness and blight.
Hell is rising, the world’s last breath —
Mammon’s shadow is death’s own death.




---------------------



Mammon’s Plague — Abyssal Doom

Mammon rots, a putrid curse,
Slithers forth in hell’s own hearse.
Dragged to Charon’s shadowed pier,
Death recoils — the end is near.

Gates of Hell slam cold and tight,
Demon thralls weep endless night.
Charon grits his bones of rust,
Doomed to guard the cursed dust.

Mammon writhes in chains of slime,
Feeding on a world’s decline.
Not dead, but birthed in filth and bile,
A plague that poisons all with guile.

Gold that gleams with satan’s breath,
Spawns fresh monsters born of death.
Earth convulses, wracked with pain,
Mammon drags the world insane.

Souls devoured, bones crushed to ash,
Hope consumed in hellish crash.
No salvation, no reprieve,
Only darkness left to grieve.

Endless night, no dawn in sight,
A kingdom drowned in blackest blight.
Hell unleashed with cruel intent —
Mammon’s grip: the final end.




---------------------



Mammon’s Curse — The Final Abyss

Mammon writhes, a cancer foul,
Dragging worlds beneath his scowl.
Charon’s boat now stained with gore,
Frightened souls beg for no more.

Hell’s gates slam on demon’s screams,
Charon weeps in broken dreams.
Not a savior — warden ******,
Guarding ashes of the ******.

Mammon’s poison seeps like blood,
Turns pure earth to choking mud.
Born from filth, bred in decay,
Feeding on souls led astray.

Gold’s false glow, a serpent’s tongue,
Spawns new fiends, forever young.
Earth convulses, wracked with dread,
While the living crawl with dead.

Bones crushed under endless weight,
Hope extinguished, crushed by fate.
No salvation, none to find,
Only darkness — cruel, unkind.

Night eternal, no escape,
Worlds consumed in blackened shape.
Hell unleashed, the final breath,
Mammon’s clutch — a deathly death.




---------------------



The Parts of “Success”

Stupidity plus greed and endless dread —
(Fear’s injected everywhere, always fed) —
Breeds a psyche cracked, a mind unblessed,
While years of ******* feed the unrest.

Stupidity’s “natural,” but training’s worse:
The Creature knows the game, the cursed
Programs torturing pure reason’s core,
To silence truth forevermore.

The hidden gist: greed marches in line,
In wretched lives it plants its sign.
And propaganda’s lies and screams
Glue all that filth — the nightmare’s schemes.



---------------------



The Formula of Ruin

Stupidity fused with greed and fear,
(A plague that stalks both far and near) —
Breaks the mind, a shattered wreck,
Years in chains make no mind check.

“Natural” fool, but bred to ****,
That Creature knows the poison drill:
It twists pure reason, strangles light,
Drowns all truth in endless night.

Greed marches in a brutal horde,
In broken lives it claws and gored.
Propaganda howls, deceives,
Binding all with web of thieves.

This heap of filth, this cursed stew —
Is all the “success” you pursue.




---------------------




The Sum of Hellish Success

Stupidity, greed, and ceaseless dread—
Fear’s virus bred inside your head—
Crush the mind to rotting pulp,
Years of chains—your endless gulp.

“Natural fool,” yet trained to serve
That Creature’s will—to twist, to swerve.
It wrings pure reason, snuffs the flame,
Drowns your soul in filthy shame.

Greed’s the cancer, thick and vile,
In every breath, it claws, defiles.
Propaganda’s shrillest lies
Seal your fate—no more disguise.

This pile of **** you worship, praise—
Is your “success” in this haze.




---------------------



The Sum of Hellish Success

Stupid, greedy, never still,
Fear that claws and kills your will—
Mind decays, rots to the core,
Chained and crushed forevermore.

Born a fool, but trained to break,
Soul to drain and body shake.
Reason dies beneath their hand,
Pure thought crushed by their command.

Greed’s the plague that claws your breath,
Drags you down to hell and death.
Lies scream loud, their venom’s deep—
Bind your mind, enslave your sleep.

**** you worship, **** you crave,
This is all your life will save.



---------------------


Almost Bird...

A roasted chick —
Boiled in lies thick,
Then fried on Fear’s flame.
To hell with custom’s game!

Crazy bird’s routine —
Spirit’s wings wiped clean.
Powerless? Let it be.
***** weakness — set it free.



---------------------



Just One Big Lie for One Big Season

The CowID results are buried
In war's apocalyptic rattle.
The sheep, so simple and unwary,
Need one big lie to start the battle.

The first lie vanishes completely —
They tremble at the fresh disaster.
It fades — and joy returns so sweetly,
The herd feels peace and safety faster.




---------------------



One lie. One spell. One herd obeys —
Then cheers the slaughter as it prays.



---------------------



The Naked King and the Numbskull Crowd

The king is bare,
His court — for hire.
The crowd? Don’t care —
Just grunts and liars.

The lords all feud,
Distrust is growing.
The priest’s a brute —
He blesses moaning.

The king is bare,
The axe is gleaming.
But if they stare
And keep on dreaming —
Then chains come back
With fresh enslaving.



---------------------



The Core of Modern Pseudo-Psychology

They bolt on wheels to a dead old mule,
Then praise its "energizing pace."
In "psychology," that's the rule
When Spirit’s vanished without a trace.

Their theories? Hollow, soulless schemes.
The "practice"? Cash, control, and lies.
It feeds on shadowed power dreams —
Where evil thrives in thin disguise.

It creeps into the mind unseen —
A backstab hurts the most, you know.
In this soulless, lifeless machine,
Psychology serves shadow’s glow.

A crutch for lies, for chains, for pain,
Dead mules march off to work and war —
As long as charlatans explain
Their fate with jargon by the score.




---------------------



They preach the mind — but sell the soul,
Dead mules obey, and darkness rolls.



---------------------



The Blind Spot

A blind spot lives in every mind —
The root of chains for all mankind.
The fiends will preach, and you’ll believe —
Their lies now bolder, worse, and cheap.

It grows like mold on fear and greed,
On pious fools and wicked need.
And while the world just stares, unwise —
The blind spot burns through truth and skies.




---------------------



A blind spot blooms — and truth decays.
The herd kneels down as darkness plays.



---------------------




“Elections” in the Madhouse

Do we “choose”? No — they drag us all inside,
To a madhouse world where lies abide!
Reason melts fast in fascist flame,
Where ugliness and rudeness reign.



---------------------



No choice at all — just chains and pain,
In madhouse madness, they reign insane.



---------------------



The Prime Directive

To foul the minds of countless throngs —
The foremost task, the wicked’s song.
No chains are needed — that’s their luck —
For beasts who spread their poison muck.

They cut expenses to the bone —
Executioners, metal zones.
We’ll spin three crates of blatant lies...
If crates run short, no compromise.

It’s not like concrete — solid, tight —
From garbage heaps will burst a fight:
The media dumps forty megatons
Of falsehoods — “Our brave soldier runs!”

Now evil’s mouthpiece, loud and grim,
Is hope and fortress for the sin.
It drives the Mind and Spirit out
From submissive fools, lost in doubt.



---------------------



Foul minds are their first command—
Lies pour out, a deadly brand.



---------------------



Trash

Stupid faces multiply everywhere,
Spreading fear, betrayal, shame, despair.
They crush the last of reason’s spark —
The trash of Earth, a world so dark.




---------------------



To Account!

To bear one hundredth part
Of all this shame — a stain on heart!
To craft one hundredth share
Of all this vile, deceitful snare —

Deserves but death’s unyielding hand,
For treasons vile, unhuman stand.
The prologue’s clear — we watch it rise:
The beasts will answer, no disguise.




---------------------



One hundredth of this vile sin —
Deserves death’s verdict, sharp and thin.



---------------------



Anger

A cauldron boils of dark desires,
In hellish flames, the mind expires.
The Spirit’s trapped among the bones,
Worn flesh its cold, forsaken throne.

So rare a guest, it fades to dust —
All seems in vain, but still—there’s lust:
Anger left as last defense,
A bitter shield, no recompense.

Be fierce — keep weak and swine away,
From hell’s grip strive to break away.
Reach out to Light — it lives inside —
No other truth: don’t run, don’t hide.




---------------------



Burn with rage, but guard your soul —
Push the swine, reclaim control.



---------------------


Filth of Lies

Trust betrayed beyond the brink —
Total lies make darkness sink!
So the forecast’s grim and stark —
All will drown in filth and dark.



---------------------



The “Science” of Deceitful Beasts

Beasts adore their “science” talk,
Euphemisms that slyly stalk,
Latin words to blind and bind,
Enemas for the human mind.

An enema — a false pretense,
Torturing Spirit’s innocence,
Trampling reason, truth betrayed,
Slaughtered by the lies they’ve made.




---------------------



Their “science” reeks of lies and pain,
Mind’s enema, a poisoned drain.



---------------------



“Napoleon? No, It’s Me!”

A mission? Firm’s messiah, you say?
Ego’s gone wild — clinical dismay.
Marketing sharks, PR’s sharp knights —
Napoleons of sales and fights!



---------------------



Employers, Consumers, and the Rest

...-ers and -brethren,
Only SEEKERS count,
All else is fading dust.
Brethren—gluttons,
Souls defiled and crushed
By food and blind submission.

False givers,
With free cheese gifts,
Enslave all who feed their lust.
A world drowned in foolishness—
Decay and endless rust.




---------------------



False givers feed the herd,
Cheap cheese traps every bird.
Only seekers hold the key —
All else rots in misery.



---------------------



Slime

Permissions to live—
Licenses, papers, all contrived.
This world’s ruled by slime,
Greedy for our very life’s drive.

They ban all that they can,
Then sell a paper—“control,” they plan.
A feeble grip that fails to heal,
Real harm ignored—the CowID ordeal.

The herd’s fed poison, vile and slick,
Shame dies in officials—only bribes stick.
Beasts now rule, the lords of scorn,
The world sickened by their brazen scorn.

Permissions to live—
Means life itself’s a lie.
For everywhere lies and slime
Are sources where all horrors lie.




---------------------



Slime rules life with poison lies—
Paper chains, control’s disguise.
Bribed beasts breed decay and dread—
Truth is dead, the herd is led.



---------------------



Constant Madness of the Mind

The Rubik’s Cube of heads
Spins wildly on all sides,
So fools won’t find their peace —
No rest to seek or hide.

Tugging, pulling everywhere—
The mind’s roof blows away.
They need a traitor’s sneer,
A filthy fool’s display.

Trash will flood the whole “house” —
This global madhouse grim,
In artificial haze,
The goal: reduce us dim.

Through nonsense, they succeed—
Few minds remain alive,
And even fewer keep
The Flame of Souls to thrive.



---------------------



Brains twisted like a Rubik’s Cube,
Fools kept spinning—no escape, no truce.
Trash and traitors flood the global hive,
Soul’s flame dying, barely alive.



---------------------



The Curtain

A curtain’s fallen — thick and low,
The game of ostriches laid bare.
This wretched world has turned to hell,
A lair of fiends beyond repair.

Beneath the veil, the ***** show—
Heads buried deep in desert sand.
They’ve gone feral, lost all shame—
Satan rules this cursed land.

Feathers plucked, their pride destroyed,
Heads stuck deep, no truth to find.
Bowing falsehood, faith betrayed,
To light they turn their fear and bind.

Light’s unseen if viewed by ***—
A chasm wide from truth and grace.
To suffer fiends who breed such spite
Is doom for all the human race.




---------------------



Curtain falls — no light, just shame,
***** buried, heads to blame.
Satan rules the wild decay,
Fiends feast while souls give way.

Look with *** — you see no sun,
End is near if evil’s won.



---------------------




******* hide, heads in sand,
Ruled by fiends, a cursed land.
Satan’s throne, their shame’s embrace —
Humanity’s disgrace.

Look with *** — you’re blind and lost,
Evil’s toll is total cost.



---------------------



The Endless Game of Echoes

Play the game of echoes — try,
If your partner’s dumb and sly.
If that fool’s also proud and mean —
You’ll be drained before you’ve seen.

Shun the fools and all the fools,
Shun the knaves and rotten tools,
Or you’ll turn to filthy ash,
Wake from sleep — break free, don’t crash.

Fools abound — the numbers grow,
Solitude’s the shield you know,
To stay whole and not become
Trash with them — the sorting’s done.

Here they cull the foolish throng,
Fascism’s grip is harsh and strong,
Where their strength turns dark and grim —
Only madmen play that hymn.

Echoing insults, they fight,
Wounding Spirit, dimming light,
Killing Soul in evil’s clutch,
Servants of the weak and such.




---------------------



Fatigue and Death

Fury, weariness, despair —
A scourge that strikes the stagnant air.
Rot and stench spread far and wide,
Fascism’s war-cry, raw and plied.

Everywhere, fools crowd the land,
Few the wise who still can stand.
Drained of strength, no will to fight —
Why protect yourself from blight?

Honor, shame are locked away,
Treachery’s the daily play.
In this filth and putrid reek,
Brains like flies fall weak and meek.

Where conscience fades, a relic lost,
Sensitivity’s the cost,
In this hell beneath the rule,
Leaving early’s fortune’s jewel.




---------------------



Mental Overstrain

Fatigue’s no trivial thing —
You’ll lose what matters most,
Though only dullness clings,
Apathy’s quiet ghost.

It seems not so severe,
But weariness will grow,
And suddenly, it’s clear —
Your light begins to slow.

Then comes the darkened drift,
Your will begins to break,
Lies, fears, the nagging rift —
A painful, sharp heartbreak.

Yet pain, in its own way,
Thanks for the warning sign —
It wakes your mind today,
Or you’ll fade out like a shrine —

A ghost drained of all power,
Lost deep in shadow’s bower.




---------------------



"Adaptations" — Profanations

They twist and spoil it all,
Distort the core and soul.
In wretched fights where lies prevail,
Truth’s crumbs drown in the stale.

Fools and fiends of every kind
Turn meaning blind and blind.
Half-truths mix with lies to bind —
No vision left to find.




---------------------



Stupid Zoo

The cops have gone feral, wild,
Doctors sold their minds, defiled.
Books they poison, pages spun,
Feeding kids till thought is done.

The world drowns deep in lies,
Screens spew nonsense, truth just dies.
All officials bought and sold,
Fake “scientists” lost control.

But that’s no longer the main fight —
Genocide, fascism’s blight.
And in this slaughter, who will shield
The Reason’s flame, the truths revealed?

Only Fire can cleanse the stains,
Break the cursed cycle’s chains.
It’s happened once, will come again,
While Spirit’s trapped in Hell’s domain,

While drowning in the fearful fraud,
In this Stupid Zoo of God.



---------------------



Against the Grain

Everything’s set against your way—
Maybe you’re more right each day:
Obstacles that block your path
Mark the truth beneath the wrath.

Going against the grain, you’ll shed
That old fur that drags you dead.
When comfort lives in pain and strife,
That comfort’s death—end of your life.




---------------------



Mad Rashism

“Liberators” blew the dam—
In Kahovka, chaos ran.
Down below the Dnipro’s line,
Foul beasts fell—a twisted sign.

Their howl’s a dumb and senseless scream,
Propaganda’s sickest scheme.
Dostoevsky? Just soulless lies!
Fascists herd their slaves and spies!




---------------------



******* of a Phantom Chance

Chance! Chance!! Chance!!!
They **** to that trance...
World’s decay, a bleak advance —
People dumb, mute, in a trance.

So the chance is just a ghost,
Forward—beasts scream “Attack!” the most.
Fools march to pointless fight,
To “healing” death in blinding light.

Chasing chance inside the void,
All drowned in darkness, all destroyed.
Hamsters spinning wheels so fast —
Your chances? Dead, they’re in the past!




---------------------



Phantom Chance *******

Chance! Chance!! Chance!!!
They’re jerking off to nonsense, man...
World’s a cesspit, full decay —
Dumb, deaf, blind, the sheeple sway.

Chance? A ghost, a cruel lie.
“Attack!” beasts howl, and fools comply.
They march to pointless, toxic pain,
Where poison kills and hope’s in vain.

Chasing chances in their hole,
All drowned in dark, no saving soul.
Hamsters trapped on endless wheels —
Your “chance” is dead. That’s how it feels.




---------------------



Phantom Chance — a twisted lie,
They ******* while the world will die.
Beasts scream “Attack!” — the fools obey,
Your hope’s a ghost that fades away.



---------------------



Chance? A ghost they ******* —
While world decays, they seal their fate.
Beasts roar orders, sheep comply —
Your hope’s just poison, doomed to die.




---------------------



Thought Diverter

A lightning rod for interests, hobbies,
False spirits, all that ****** stuff —
A Thought Diverter traps dumb zombies
In nonsense thick and ever rough.

They’re too lazy just to think,
So we digest and "adapt" the core,
Twisting truth until it sinks —
Their idol’s need, their only law.




---------------------



Thought Diverter

A lightning rod for fake pursuits,
For phony faith and all their trash —
A Thought Diverter drags recruits,
Dumb zombies stuck in lies that thrash.

Too lazy even just to think,
We chew and twist their empty soul,
Expelling truth, corrupting ink —
Their only god: the grind and toll.




---------------------



Nonsense and Carcass

World’s lefties’ day arrives,
And pointless labor’s praise —
Drive nonsense from our lives!
The herds still graze and laze.

They feast on lies and trash,
Content with shallow noise,
Unaware their funeral crash
Is hymn of useless toil.




---------------------



Slaves’ Hatred for Their “Neighbors”

Slaves hate freedom’s smallest spark,
When close at hand — those fiends foresee
The reckoning that comes so dark,
The Soul’s last toll — if it will be.

That slave’s order is absurd —
Dull fools believe they’ll still be fed.
But creatures have a darker word:
They’ll grind them down — hate’s wasted thread.




---------------------



Slave Hate’s a Fool’s Trap

Slaves despise the taste of free,
But payback’s near — just wait and see.
They’ll crush the weak, erase the trace,
Your hate’s a lie, a lost disgrace.



---------------------



The Bottom

Rashism — that’s the bottom.
Is that what you sought?
Around is all rotten,
Trapped in this squalor caught.

How did we sink so low?
Fear’s the root, the cause.
The end’s fire will glow —
All beasts burn without pause.




---------------------



Madness of Computer Games

For a “griffon” I’ll surrender,
For a “shield” I’ll **** with pride.
Never will I lose or render,
Family left far behind.

If it takes—this madness sweeter
Than the sweetest candy’s taste.
So we’ll hit the lowest meter,
Final chapter’s bitter waste.

When the whole virtual land
Leads us to the digital camp,
Where “new normal” rules the stand—
Idiot’s the stamp and stamp.




---------------------



Batteries

Games, no-nets, and mobiles,
All those endless time-thieves —
Run on batteries, feeding
Warmth of souls that grieve.

Like watering cans, they pour
That warmth down Evil’s drain.
Real charge? Face-to-face — for sure.
Drop that dull habit’s chain!

They **** us one by one,
Silent signals gone astray.
Fools don’t know what’s done —
Turning wholly into nothing gray.




---------------------



Batteries

Games, phones, all those time-licks —
Running dry on dead-*** tricks.
Soul’s warm juice? Flushed down the drain,
Feeding Evil’s filthy reign.

Real charge comes face-to-face,
Not through screens that numb and waste.
Ditch the dumb, robotic fuss —
They **** us all, one by one, thus.

Fools don’t grasp the silent theft:
Turned to nothing — spirit left.




---------------------



Putinoids

Putinoid — a dumb fool’s breed,
Not just dumb, but pure disease.
Like Chikatilo’s cruel creed,
Or Mengele’s mad expertise.

Ruled by Kremlin’s twisted fiend,
Betrayal killed his mind and soul.
Since his youth, no thoughts convened —
Propaganda’s poisoned toll.

How long can such filth survive,
Feeding lies that sickly spread?
Hardly long — they’ll pay the price
For fascist horrors, tears, and dread.




---------------------



A Different Collective Vision

A different way of seeing —
The Path’s good goal in sight.
What now means disbelieving —
One answer: walk the fight.

That goal’s a hard ascension,
Alone, few reach its height.
No crowds, no great convention —
Just silence, almost white.

All this seems far, ungrasped —
So Death soon spreads its breath:
A world of lies collapsed —
Wipe all away — erase death.

Fascism and falsehood here —
Is that what folks had planned?
If so, the song’s all done —
Pour one last drink, my friend.




---------------------



Election Farce

Counting the useless, the fake —
A sham election, just a joke.
Through these womb-born fiends, the plague
Of fascism's vile choke.

Those beasts, with their approving nods,
Cast shadows of false legit.
For craven, sold-out worthless clods,
They grant a rotten writ.

They’re clueless — wasted all their chance,
Drank away what brains remained.
From those with heart and true stance,
Stole freedom — bound and chained.




---------------------



Election Farce — The Beast’s Game

Counting fools, a sham parade,
False elections, rotten trade.
Womb-spawned monsters fuel the flame,
Fascism’s filth — the Beast’s name.

With their nods, they give a mask,
Legitimacy’s dead task.
Filthy traitors, sold-out ****,
Feed the poison, beat the drum.

Brains all drained, they lost the fight,
Drunk on lies, lost all their light.
From the pure and true they steal
Every chance to break the seal.



---------------------




Election Farce — The Beast’s ****

Counting dead, dumb zombies crawl,
Fake elections, circus brawl.
Womb-born filth spreads fascist stain,
Fascism’s **** — the Beast’s domain.

With their nods, they fake the law,
Give the slime a cloak to draw.
Trash and traitors, puking lies,
Feed the poison, burn the skies.

Brains all wasted, sold, and spent,
Drunk on hate, all judgment bent.
From the pure, they steal the light,
Snuffing hope, chaining tight.




---------------------



Election Farce

Counting corpses, dumb and blind,
Fake votes breed the fascist kind.
Filth gives lies a mask to wear —
Brains sold out, no hope, despair.




---------------------



Rashists

At checkpoints let the car pass through—
Kids inside, then shoot them too.
Such vile beasts claim to “free” the land,
Ukraine’s fate crushed by their hand.

Spawned from Rashism’s darkest grime,
Fascists echo ******’s time.
But this monster, soulless, grim,
Is worse than all the fiends of him.




---------------------



Traitors and the Media

Pseudo-presidents impotent,
They rule this stale, foul cesspool.
Just the filth of lies ferment—
Propaganda makes the fool.

Through the media, they brazenly reign,
Vile monsters, **** and grime.
Dumb masses drowned in their domain,
Sneaky traitors in their crime.

With “orders from above” they steer,
Propaganda's brutal whip.
They won't leave fools in peace, I fear—
The beast commands: “Attack, don’t slip!”




---------------------




Traitors and the Media

Impotent pseudo-leaders rule this stinking pit—
Nothing but ****, propaganda’*****.
Brazen fiends pull strings behind the screen,
Swarming fools drown in their obscene machine.

Traitors sneak, they crawl and scheme,
Slaves to lies, obeying the regime.
“From above” the orders drop like knives,
Propaganda’s lash kills freeborn lives.

No rest for fools, no mercy shown—
The beast commands: “Strike hard, strike bone!”
Rot and venom in every breath,
Traitors and media dance with death.




---------------------



All Is Lost!!!

Mayors dull —
“Peers” push the pull,
Serving Evil’s twisted goal.
Pseudo-presidents, goat-like fools,
Lead the sheep to fight the fight.

******* fascism wins the day
With howls of hate that never sway—
Propaganda, wild and vile,
Would make Goebbels cringe a while.

Those attacks so sharp and fierce,
Loaded lies like bombs that pierce—
Hiroshima’s just a sneeze.
All is lost! All’s disease!

Three-quarters mad — this world’s a joke,
In psychosis deep we choke.




---------------------



The Only Mask

The world’s a masquerade,
One mask worn tight—
Its name is Fear,
Worth not a mite.
If it should cling,
A grafted shell,
Then you’re a ****,
Your life—pure hell.
Can we see,
or have we lost sight,
of what is wrong,
and what is right.

Are we lost,
or do we know,
where we are,
and where to go.

Propaganda,
and temptation,
both lead you,
to a damnation.

A clear mind,
attempts salvation,
of your thought,
and your temptation.

Are we blind,
to all the lies,
corporations,
we despise.

Feeding them,
aimlessly,
giving them,
our money.

Propaganda,
and temptation,
both lead you,
to a damnation.

A clear mind,
attempts salvation,
of your thought,
and your temptation.

Why are we giving them,
our hard earned money?
For them to horde away,
in endless bank accounts.
For them to use,
against us.
Dangling it above our heads,
giving them power!

Propaganda,
and temptation,
both lead us,
to our damnation.

A clear mind,
attempts salvation,
of our thought,
and our temptation.

Stop giving them money,
that's what they want.
Stop giving them power,
that's what they need.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
RAJ NANDY Jul 2017
THE LEGEND OF HOLLYWOOD IN VERSE
Dear Readers, I have tried to cover the salient features of this True Story in free flowing verse mainly with end rhymes. If you read it loud, you can hear the chimes! Due to the short attention span of my readers I had to cut short this long story, and conclude with the
Golden Era of Hollywood by stretching it up to the 1950's only. When TV began to challenge the Big Screen Cinema seriously! I have used only a part of my notes here. Kindly read the entire poem and don't hesitate to know many interesting facts - which I also did not know! I wish there was a provision for posting a few interesting photographs for you here. Best wishes, - Raj Nandy, New Delhi.  

                 THE LEGEND OF HOLLYWOOD :
                        THE AMERICAN  DREAM
                             BY RAJ NANDY

           A SHORT  HISTORICAL  BACKGROUND
Since the earliest days, optical toys, shadow shows, and ‘magic
lanterns’, had created the illusion of motion.
This concept was first described by Mark Roget in 1824 as  
the 'persistent of vision'.
Giving impetus to the development of big screen cinema with its
close-ups, capturing all controlled and subtle expressions!
The actors were no longer required to shout out their parts with
exaggerated actions as on the Elizabethan Stage.
Now even a single tear drop could get noticed easily by the entire
movie audience!
With the best scene being included and edited after a few retakes.
To Thomas Edison and his able assistant William Rogers we owe the invention of Kinetoscope, the first movie camera.
On the grounds of his West Orange, New Jersey laboratory, Edison
built his first movie studio called the ‘Black Maria’.   (1893)
He also purchased a string of patents related to motion picture
Camera; forming the Edison Trust, - a cartel that took control of
the Film Industry entire!

Fort Lee, New Jersey:
On a small borough on the opposite bank of the Hudson River lay
the deserted Fort Lee.
Here scores of film production crews descended armed with picture Cameras, on this isolated part of New Jersey!
In 1907 Edison’s company came there to shoot a short silent film –
‘Rescue From an Eagle’s Nest’,
Which featured for the first time the actor and director DW Griffith.
The independent Chaplin Film Company built the first permanent
movie studio in 1910 in Fort Lee.
While some of the biggest Hollywood studios like the Universal,
MGM, and 20th Century Fox, had their roots in Fort Lee.
Some of the famous stars of the silent movie era included ‘Fatty’
Arbuckle, Will Rogers, Mary Pickford, Dorothy and Lillian Gish,
Lionel Barrymore, Rudolph Valentine and Pearl White.
In those days there were no reflectors and electric arch lights.
So movies were made on rooftops to capture the bright sunlight!
During unpredictable bad weather days, filming had to be stopped
despite the revolving stage which was made, -
To rotate and capture the sunlight before the lights atarted to fade!

Shift from New Jersey to West Coast California:
Now Edison who held the patents for the bulb, phonograph, and the Camera, had exhibited a near monopoly;
On the production, distribution, and exhibition of the movies which made this budding industry to shift to California from
New Jersey!
California with its natural scenery, its open range, mountains, desert, and snow country, had the basic ingredients for the movie industry.
But most importantly, California had bright Sunshine for almost
365 days of the year!
While eight miles away from Hollywood lay the port city of Los Angeles with its cheap labour.

                        THE RISE  OF  HOLLYWOOD
It was a real estate tycoon Harvey Wilcox and his wife Daeida from
Kansas, who during the 1880s founded ‘Hollywood’ as a community for like-minded temperate followers.
It is generally said that Daeida gave the name Hollywood perhaps
due to the areas abundant red-berried shrubs also known as
California Holly.
Spring blossoms around and above the Hollywood Hills with its rich variety,  gave it a touch of paradise for all to see !
Hollywood was incorporated as a municipality in 1903, and during
1910 unified with the city of Los Angeles.
While a year later, the first film studio had moved in from New
Jersey, to escape Thomas Edison’s monopoly!    (1911)

In 1913 Cecil B. De Mille and Jesse Lasky, had leased a barn with
studio facilities.
And directed the first feature length film ‘Squaw Man’ in 1914.
Today this studio is home to Hollywood Heritage Museum as we get to see.
The timeless symbol of Hollywood film industry that famous sign on top of Mount Lee, was put up by a real estate developer in 1923.  
This sign had read as ‘’HOLLY WOOD LAND’’ initially.
Despite decades of run-ins with vandals and pranksters, it managed to hang on to its prime location near the summit of the Hollywood Hills.
The last restoration work was carried out in 1978 initiated by Hugh
Hefner of the ******* Magazine.
Those nine white letters 45 feet tall now read ‘HOLLYWOOD’, and has become a landmark and America’s cultural icon, and an evocative symbol for ambition, glamour, and dream.
Forever enticing aspiring actors to flock to Hollywood, hypnotised
by lure of the big screen!

                     GOLDEN AGE OF HOLLYWOOD
The Silent Movie Era which began in 1895, ended in 1935 with the
production of ‘Dance of Virgins’, filmed entirely in the island of Bali.
The first Sound film ‘The Jazz Singer’ by Warner Bros. was made with a Vitaphone sound-on-disc technology.  (October 1927)
Despite the Great Depression of the 1930s, this decade along with the 1940s have been regarded by some as Hollywood’s Golden Age.
However, I think that this Golden Age includes the decades of the
1940s and the 1950s instead.
When the advent of Television began to challenge the Film Industry
itself !

First Academy Award:
On 16th May 1929 in the Roosevelt Hotel on Hollywood Boulevard,
the First Academy Award presentation was held.
Around 270 people were in attendance, and tickets were priced at
$5 per head.
When the best films of 1927 & 1928 were honored by the Academy
of Motion Production and Sciences, or the AMPS.
Emil Jennings became the best actor, and Janet Gaynor the best actress.
Special Award went to Charlie Chaplin for his contribution to the
silent movie era and for his silent film ‘The Circus’.
While Warren Brothers was commended for making the first talking picture ‘The Jazz Singer’, - also receiving a Special Award!
Now, the origin of the term ‘OSCAR’ has remained disputed.
The Academy adopted this name from 1939 onwards it is stated.
OSCAR award has now become “the stuff dreams are made of”!
It is a gold-plated statuette of a knight 13.5 inches in height, weighing 8.5 pounds, was designed by MGM’s art director Cedric Gibbons.
Annually awarded for honouring and encouraging excellence in all
facets of motion picture production.

Movies During the Great Depression Era (1929-1941):
Musicals and dance movies starring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers provided escapism and good entertainment during this age.
“Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did. She just did it
backwards and in high heels,” - the Critics had said.
This compatible pair entertained the viewers for almost one and
a half decade.
During the ‘30s, gangster movies were popular starring James Cagey, Humphrey Bogart, and Edward G. Robinson.
While family movies had their popular child artist Shirley Temple.
Swashbuckler films of the Golden Age saw the sword fighting scenes of Douglas Fairbanks and Errol Flynn.
Flynn got idolized playing ‘Robin Hood’, this film got released in
1938 on the big screen!
Story of the American Civil War got presented in the epic ‘Gone With The Wind’ (1939) with Clarke Gable and Vivian Leigh.
This movie received 8 Oscars including the award for the Best Film, - creating a landmark in motion picture’s history!
More serious movies like John Steinbeck’s ‘Grapes of Wrath’ and
John Ford’s  ‘How Green Was My Valley’, were released in 1940 and 1941 respectively.
While the viewers escaped that depressive age to the magical world
of  ‘Wizard of Oz’ with its actress Judy Garland most eagerly!
Let us not forget John Wayne the King of the Westerns, who began
his acting career in the 1930s with his movie ‘The Big Trail’;
He went on to complete 84 films before his career came to an end.
Beginning of the 40s also saw Bob Hope and the crooner Bing Crosby, who entertained the public and also the fighting troops.
For the Second World War (1939-45) had interrupted the Golden Age of Hollywood.
When actors like Henry Fonda, Clarke Gable, James Stewart and
Douglas Fairbanks joined the armed forces temporarily leaving
Hollywood.
Few propaganda movies supporting the war efforts were also made.
While landmark movies like ‘Philadelphia Story’, ‘Casablanca’, ‘Citizen Kane’,
‘The Best Years of Our Lives’, were some of the most successful movies of that decade.  (The 1940s)
Now I come towards the end of my Hollywood Story with the decade  of the 1950s, thereby extending the period of Hollywood’s Golden Age.
Since having past the Great Depression and the Second World War,  the Hollywood movie industry truly matured and came of age.

                        HOLLYWOOD  OF  THE  1950s

BACKGROU­ND:
The decade of the ‘50s was known for its post-war affluence and
choice of leisure time activities.
It was a decade of middle-class values, fast-food restaurants, and
drive-in- movies;
Of ‘baby-boom’, all-electric home, the first credit cards, and new fast moving cars like the Ford, Plymouth, Buick, Hudson, and Chevrolet.
But not forgetting the white racist terrorism in the Southern States!
This era saw the beginning of Cold War, with Eisenhower
succeeding Harry S. Truman as the American President.
But for the film industry, most importantly, what really mattered  
was the advent of the Domestic TV.
When the older viewers preferred to stay at home instead of going
out to the movies.
By 1950, 10.5 million US homes had a television set, and on the
30th December 1953, the first Color TV went on sale!
Film industries used techniques such as Cinemascope, Vista Vision,
and gimmicks like 3-D techniques,
To get back their former movie audience back on their seats!
However, the big scene spectacle films did retain its charm and
fantasy.
Since fantasy epics like ‘The Story of Robin Hood’, and Biblical epics like ‘The Robe’, ‘Quo Vadis’, ‘The Ten Commandments’ and ‘Ben-Hur’, did retain its big screen visual appeal.
‘The Robe’ released on 16th September 1953, was the first film shot
and projected in Cinema Scope;
In which special lenses were used to compress a wide image into a
standard frame and then expanded it again during projection;
Resulting in an image almost two and a half times as high and also as wide, - captivating the viewers imagination!

DEMAND FOR NEW THEMES DURING THE 1950s :
The idealized portrayal of men and women since the Second World War,
Now failed to satisfy the youth who sought exciting symbols for rebellion.
So Hollywood responded with anti-heroes with stars like James Dean, Marlon Brando, and Paul Newman.
They replaced conventional actors like Tyron Power, Van Johnson, and Robert Taylor to a great extent, to meet the requirement of the age.
Anti-heroines included Ava Gardner, Kim Novak, and Marilyn Monroe with her vibrant *** appeal;
She provided excitement for the new generation with a change of scene.
Themes of rebellion against established authority was present in many Rock and Roll songs,
Including the 1954 Bill Hailey and His Comets’ ‘Rock Around the Clock’.
The era also saw rise to stardom of Elvis Presley the teen heartthrob.
Meeting the youthful aspirations with his songs like ‘Jailhouse Rock’!
I recall the lyrics of this 1957 film ‘Jailhouse Rock’ of my school days, which had featured the youth icon Elvis:
   “The Warden threw a party in the county jail,
     The prison band was there and they began to wail.
     The band was jumping and the joint began to sing,
     You should’ve heard them knocked-out jail bird sing.
     Let’s rock, everybody in the whole cell block……………
     Spider Murphy played the tenor saxophone,
     Little Joe was blowing the slide trombone.
     The drummer boy from Illinois went crash, boom, bang!
     The whole rhythm section was the Purple Gang,
      Let's rock,.................... (Lyrics of the song.)

Rock and Roll music began to tear down color barriers, and Afro-
American musicians like Chuck Berry and Little Richard became
very popular!
Now I must caution my readers that thousands of feature films got  released during this eventful decade in Hollywood.
To cover them all within this limited space becomes an impossible
task, which may kindly be understood !
However, I shall try to do so in a summarized form as best as I could.

BOX OFFICE HITS YEAR-WISE FROM 1950 To 1959 :
Top Ten Year-Wise hit films chronologically are: Cinderella (1950),
Quo Vadis, The Greatest Show on Earth, Peter Pan, Rear Window,
Lady and the *****, Ten Commandments, Bridge on the River
Kwai, South Pacific, and Ben-Hur of 1959.

However Taking The Entire Decade Of 1950s Collectively,
The Top Films Get Rated As Follows Respectively:
The Ten Commandments, followed by Lady and the *****, Peter Pan, Sleeping Beauty, Bridge on the River Kwai, Around the World in Eighty Days, This is Cinerama, The Greatest Show on Earth, Rear Window, South Pacific, The Robe, Giant, Seven Wonders of the World, White Christmas, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Sayonara, Demetrius and the Gladiator, Peyton Place, Some Like It Hot, Quo Vadis, and Auntie Mame.

Film Debuts By Rising Stars During The 1950s :
The decade of the ‘50s saw a number of famous film stars making
their first appearance.
There was Peter Sellers in ‘The Black Rose’, Marlon Brando in
‘The Men’, and actress Sophia Loren in ‘Toto Tarzan’.
Following year saw Charles Bronson in ‘You Are in the Navy Now’,
Audrey Hepburn in ‘Our Wild Oats’, and Grace Kelly, the future
Princess of Monaco, in her first film ‘Fourteen Hours’. (1951)
While **** Brigitte Bardot appeared in 1952 movie ‘Crazy for Love’; and 1953 saw Steve Mc Queen in ‘******* The Run’.
Jack Lemon, Paul Newman, and Omar Sharif featured in films
during 1954.
The following year saw Clint Eastwood, Shirley Mc Lean, Walter
Matthau, and Jane Mansfield, all of whom the audience adored.
The British actor Michael Cain appeared in 1956; also Elvis Presley
the youth icon in ‘Love Me Tender’ and as the future Rock and Roll
King!
In 1957 came Sean Connery, followed by Jack Nicholson, Christopher Plummer, and Vanessa Redgrave.
While the closing decade of the ‘50s saw James Coburn, along with
director, script writer, and producer Steven Spielberg, make their
debut appearance.

Deaths During The 1950s: This decade also saw the death of actors
like Humphrey Bogart, Tyron Power and Errol Flynn.
Including the death of producer and director of epic movies the
renowned Cecil B. De Mille!
Though I have conclude the Golden Age of Hollywood with the 50’s Decade,
The glitz and glamour of its Oscar Awards continue even to this day.
With its red carpet and lighted marquee appeal and fashion display!

CONTINUING THE HOLLYWOOD STORY WITH FEW TITBITS :
From Fort Lee of New Jersey we have travelled west to Hollywood,
California.
From the silent movie days to the first ‘talking picture’ with Warren
Bros’ film ‘The Jazz Singer’.  (06 Oct 1927)
On 31st July 1928 for the first time the audience heard the MGM’s
mascot Leo’s mighty roar!
While in July 1929 Warren Bros’ first all-talking and all- Technicolor
Film appeared titled - ‘On With The Show’.
Austrian born Hedy Lamarr shocked the audience appearing **** in a Czechoslovak film ‘Ecstasy’!  (1933)
She fled from her husband to join MGM, becoming a star of the
‘40s and the ‘50s.
The ‘Private Life of Henry VII’ became the first British film to win the  American Academy Award.  (1933)
On 11Dec 1934, FOX released ‘Bright Eyes’ with Shirley Temple,
who became the first Child artist to win this Award!
While in 1937 Walt Disney released the first full animated feature
film titled - ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarf ‘.
The British film director Alfred Hitchcock who came to
Hollywood later;
Between 1940 and 1947, made great thrillers like 'Rebecca', ‘Notorious’, ‘Rear Window’, and ‘Dial M for ******’.
But he never won an Oscar as a Director!

THE GOLDEN GLOBE AWARD:
This award began in 1944 by the Foreign Correspondence Association at
the 20th Century Fox Studio.
To award critically acclaimed films and television shows, by awarding a
Scroll initially.
Later a Golden Globe was made on a pedestal, with a film strip around it.
In 1955 the Cecil B. De Mille Award was created, with De Mille as its first
recipient.

THE GRAMMY AWARD:
In 1959 The National Academy of Recording and Sciences sponsored the
First Grammy Award for music recorded during 1958.
When Frank Sinatra won for his album cover ‘Only The Lonely’, but he
did not sing.
Among the 28 other categories there was Ella Fitzgerald, and Count Basie
for his musical Dance Band Performance.
There was Kingston Trio’s song ‘Tom Dooly’, and the ‘Chipmunk Song’,
which brings back nostalgic memories of my school days!

CONCLUDING HOLLYWOOD STORY  WITH STUDIOS OF THE 1950s

Challenge Faced by the Movie Industry:
Now the challenge before the Movie Industry was how to adjust to the
rapidly changing conditions created by the growing TV Industry.
Resulting in loss of revenue, with viewers getting addicted to
their Domestic TV screen most conveniently!

The late 1950s saw two studios REPUBLIC and the RKO go out of business!
REPUBLIC from 1935- ‘59 based in Los Angeles, developed the careers of
John Wayne and Roy Rogers, and specializing in the Westerns.
RKO was one of the Big Five Studios of Hollywood along with Paramount,
MGM, 20th Century Fox, and Warner Brothers in those days.

RKO Studio which begun with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers in the ‘30s,
included actress Katherine Hepburn who holds the record for four Oscars
even to this day;
And later had Robert Mitchum and Carry Grant under an agreement.
But in 1948, RKO Studio came under the control Howard Hughes the
temperamental Industrialist.
Soon the scandal drive and litigation prone RKO Studio closed, while
other Big Four Studios had managed to remain afloat!


PARAMOUNT STUDIO:
Paramount Studio split into two separate companies in 1950.
Its Theatre chain later merged with ABC Radio & Television Network;
And they created an independent Production/Distribution Network.
Bing Crosby and Bob Hope had been Paramount’s two biggest stars.
Followed by actors like Alan Ladd, William Holden, Jerry Lewis, Dean
Martin, Charlton Heston, and Dorothy Lamour.
They also had the producer/director Cecil B. De Mille producing high-
grossing Epics like ‘Samson & Delilah’ and ‘The Ten Commandments’.
Also the movie maker Hal Wallis, who discovered Burt Lancaster and
Elvis Presley - two great talents!

20th CENTURY FOX:
Cinema Scope became FOX’s most successful technological innovation
with its hit film ‘The Robe’. (1953)
Its Darryl Zanuck had observed during the early ‘50s, that audience  
were more interested in escapist entertainments mainly.
So he turned to FOX to musicals, comedies, and adventure stories.
Biggest stars of FOX were Gregory Peck & Susan Hayward; also
stars like Victor Mature, Anne Baxter, and Richard Wind Mark.
Not forgetting Marilyn Monroe in her Cinema Scope Box Office hit
movie - ‘How to Marry a Millionaire’, which was also shown on
prime time TV, as a romantic comedy film of 1953.

WARREN BROTHERS:
During 1950 the studio was mainly a family managed company with
three brothers Harry, Albert, and Jack Warren.
To meet the challenges of that period, Warren Bros. released most of
its actors like James Cagney, Humphrey Bogart, Oliver de Havilland, -
Along with few others from their long-term contractual commitments;
Retaining only Errol Flynn, and Ronald Regan who went on to become
the future President.
Like 20th Century Fox, Warren Bros switched to musicals, comedies,
and adventure movies, with Doris Day as its biggest musical star.
The studio also entered into short term agreements with Gary Copper,
John Wayne, Gregory Peck, Patricia Neal, and Random Scott.
Warren Bros also became the first major studio to invest in 3-D
production of films, scoring a big hit with its 3-D  suspense thriller
‘House of Wax’ in 1953.

MINOR STUDIOS were mainly three, - United Artists, Columbia, and
The Universal.
They did not own any theatre chain, and specialized in low-budgeted
‘B’ Movies those days.
Now to cut a long story short it must be said, that Hollywood finally
did participate in the evolution of Television industry, which led to
their integration eventually.
Though strategies involving hardware development and ownership of
broadcast outlets remained unsuccessful unfortunately.
However, Hollywood did succeed through program supply like prime-
time series, and made-for-TV films for the growing TV market making
things more colorful!
Thus it could be said that the TV industry provided the film industry
with new opportunities,  laying the groundwork for its diversification
and concentration;
That characterized the entertainment industry during the latter half  
of our previous century.
I must now confess that I have not visited the movie theatre over the last
two decades!
I watch movies on my big screen TV and my Computer screen these days.
Old classical movies are all available on ‘You Tube’ for me, and I can watch
them any time whenever I am free!
Thanks for reading patiently, - Raj Nandy.
**ALL COPYRIGHTS ARE WITH THE AUTHOR RAJ NANDY OF NEW DELHI
William A Poppen Feb 2020
When looking for
a perfect phrase
to describe
communication today

Not just in politics
not just in advertising
nor just in social news
or just in entertainment
consider mendacious propaganda

Mendacious the adjective
With many synonyms
For telling lies

Put together with propaganda
One has a shell bomb
A barn-burner of a phrase
For spreading rumors,
Passing on false information
And trying to influence others

Mendacious propaganda is like
A morning misting settling on the grass
Dew blankets everything
Likewise information
Fake is called real
Real is called fake
Newspapers have
A column to check the fakes
To tell you which print
You might trust
Today, Truth, lies, news
DJ Thomas  May 2010
Gift Wrapped
DJ Thomas May 2010
We each have a voice and life, it is how we use them not how we might!  

Stop glaciers melting
Huge population movements
Death of progeny


The small reductions in carbon emissions being targeted for 2020 or 2050 - are thought to little to late to slow global warming.  The melting polar ice and glaciers together with our changing weather patterns are now fact. The resulting loss of river systems and rising sea levels will mean the desertification or flooding of agricultural lands and famine, then the migration of populations - starting with the skilled and rich seeking safety, to escalate into the terror of armed bands
warring over water, food, women and land.

By 20 20
Lets hope for twenty twenty
A 20 20


There is now the thought that the huge physical change wrought by global warming can be charted by the escalation in earthquake and volcanic activity.  And that this may eventually trigger huge eruptions in the American and Asian continents,
destroying civilisations to create a planetary volcanic winter.

Again fire and cold
The cycle repeats itself
Destroying nature


Was there a civilisation in deep history before the flood, prior to and during the last ice-age?
This has been researched and written about in great detail during the last twenty years
and many now believe it already proven by scientific review of documents and
thousands of archaeological finds, also by scientists having used the exactness
in the astronomical alignments of ancient monuments
to recalculate there greater age.  

Dead sold souls herd us
Lost mindless finger puppets
Vapid witless words


Sadly, the majority put their reliance and faith in
the actions of lawyer-ed politicians, most of whom evidence
a fixation on their own welfare,  selfish self-glorification needs
and an unwillingness to rock-the-boat once in power*

Politicians thwart
Party politics deafen
Propaganda’s herd


Putting off all radical action required until after the next election.  
Many have gifted away the necessary legal control and power to take national radical action
to a political or trade grouping of nations - in effect retaining only national rights
to go to war, put up taxes, borrow and spend monies.

Please no rhetoric
Complete local transition
Forget politics


We each have a voice and life, it is how we use them not how we might!

Living we give voice
So one voice might yet be heard
All being, believe!


We are left holding our eco-inheritance and children’s future in the palm of our hand.
Please let our love and imagination drive us each forward to make change.


Biosphere a greenhouse 
Target the impossible
Please gift some life soon?


So, we each of us have hard personal choices to make, which will encompass both positive and negative
benefits in terms of our time, lifestyle, health and wealth.  I chose to base my choices solely on how it
might benefit the eco-system and the lives of our children.

My choices are grouped under five headings: transport, food, home, lifestyle and further action. They are:
-  

Transport: Rail; Bus; Coach; Bike;
(I pass woods in bud - a Red Kite hunting twisting, unhurried moments).  
To give up ownership of electric / motor vehicles
and to avoid air travel where possible.


Highly vaporous.
Emissions farting -
barrelling vipers
.

Food: To eat meat/fish only once a week at most;
(Slaughteramas greed - industrial carcase-ed meals. Sheep full of cancer)
To study fast methods of vegetarian cooking; buy local organic foodstuffs;
visit local farmers markets and farm shops; grow my own when possible
and help friends establish vegetable/herb gardens.
To not ever feed, cleave and eat!


Fat shopaholics,
a deadly consumerism.
Cancers meat to eat


Home:   A cottage sized for me, friends and neighbours,
overlooking a wooded valley and trout stream.
Like me a little untidy and basic
.

Crossing the shallows
trout fingerling feed at dawn
White dots steep hill path

Dusk - eight painted queue
river paired mare and foal
Foliage lined dark black


Well positioned to capture the morning sun, airy and light.  
Yet insulated to stay cool or warm. With easy access to mountain bike trails
and long distance bus routes, plus several end-of-line train stations
in energetic cycling distance over the mountains


A differing beat
Quickly fading doubled steps -
pulling separate


Life Style:* A thinking poet mountain biker, living organic
not part of the great noisious noxious ribbons of hurtling tired.

Pressured paced life -
impossible  commitments.
Organic living


Further Action: *I intend to give up meat not because of the terrible cruelty involved in ten billion or more animals
being slaughtered every year to feed the human race, but due to
: 1)  animal farming being a major factor in the burning of 50 million year old rainforests at a rate of one and half acres per second to generate huge volumes of greenhouse gases, destroying the richest habitats on Earth and a principal source of oxygen; and 2)  that these billions of farmed animals
are themselves a major source of greenhouse gases
.

Burning rainforests
Feeding to cleave open and eat
Subsistence farming


With ongoing intensive fishing, the world's fisheries already in crisis and climate change,
it could be that we will run out of wild-caught seafood much earlier than 2030!


Conserve energy -
and natural resources
Don’t waste foolishly


Each of us might have a different view of what globalisation is,
for some this word encapsulates the dangers of our global fast food culture, omnipresent brands,
popular culture, changing diets and the growing use of packaged processed foods
.

Freedom to act sought
Globalisation's curses
Octopus suckers!


For many it is the illegal international trade in endangered species of flora and fauna,  
second only in value to the $350 billion a year global drug trafficking trade that now services
perhaps more than 50 million regular users of ******, ******* and synthetic drugs
.

The label 'globalization' can cover the: spread and integration of different cultures;  
industry moving to low per capita income countries; sweatshops supplying this seasons branded goods
to retail outlets worldwide;  complex international interleaved financial trading instruments being developed
by banks and financial institutions to trade worldwide, create profits and pay huge bonuses, without risk to themselves
.

Globalisation -
orchestrated profiteers,
betting our losses


Many see globalisation as being the beneficial spread of free trade, liberty, democracy and capitalism,
involving the efficient allocation of resources and capital through the spread of technology.
Unelected international bodies and institutions such the World Bank actively promulgate globalisation,
a '‘world government’ promoting close economic ties between nations
.

Enculturation
Our sad indoctrination
Globalization
  

The anti-globalisation movements dislike the corporate and political nature of globalisation,
protesting the resultant harm done to the biosphere, a more rapid and extensive deterioration of the environment
and the unintended but very real consequences of globalisation: the erosion of traditional culture
resulting in social disintegration; a breakdown of democracy; the spread of new diseases;
changes in diet; increasing poverty.
.

I view globalisation and it's propagation as leading to the final destruction
of the world's cultures and civilisations by locked us into a
dogmatic world political doctrine secured through
trade and political alliances of states, institutions
and corporations that remain hell bent on
imposing this world governance. Such
that individual countries governments
cannot consider making substantive
radical change to avert the planet
being pushed into a natural cycle
that will end the human race
.

Caged in Fools World
The people hear heroic call  
Each one a hero
!

The peoples and cultures of the world need perhaps just one western country to
break the legal chains of globalisation and adopt a radical economic regeneration program
designed to make the total transition to a dynamic culture of localised
clean communities centred on the individual not competition*  

Only one tool
National taxation for -
economic change.


Here I begin discussing how global, regional and national economies might
be based on the growth of small organic local economies.
not the repeated foolishness involved in chasing lower cost base manufacture -
each time at great cost to the economy it has migrated from!
Then a further culture becoming totally reliant
on the transport of foodstuffs and goods -
I can here you saying
:

"Oh **** this guy is -
talking about change, changing -
the world we live in!"


Yes, I am and do we have a choice?  But such change will be organic and involve business
in the restructuring and regeneration of economies till we share green economies.  
In small part his is already happening slowly!


Unlock taxation,  
survivals powerful tool.  
Needed now for change!


This is why we need to consider doing something that many of today's
plutocrats, economists, bureaucrats and politicians, would dismiss out of hand or
discuss endlessly in terms of perfectly competitive markets, perverse economic incentives etc


Major solution
National taxation change
Human extinction



WORK in HAND

This haiku sequenced eco-haibun is an ongoing project being penned day-by-day by many that care and take action. Your reactions are all welcome, thank you


**Take back control now.  
Cease all squabbling, achieve act - decisively!

Globalisation's, global control cut away.
Diversity sought

Promote well being.  Act with imagination -
for ecology!

Creating employment -
with local utilities, local food and transport

Incentivise tax,  to create local benefits.
Gain prosperity

Income taxation -  value added tax, aged -
dangerous mistake

Local licensing.  Lead don't follow excuses.
Saviour taxation

Imaginative - energy, food and transport -
local licensing

An alternative - energetic strategy,
greening business

Organic foodstuffs - out compete processed food.
Life promoting health

Healthy government - a healthy population. 
Zero income tax!

Locally taxed - by distance it travelled -
and category

Products bar coded.  Point of agreed production -
and category

Local added tax, by distance it travelled -
and category

Local energy, initiatives supplant.  
Replacing at risk

User energy, capture and storage.  
Eco-dwelling plan

Local water works,  supplanting initiative.
Replace the at risk

User water need.  Capturing and storing half.
Securing supply

Communications, local initiatives.
Protecting our needs

Local healthy food, life saving initiative.
Planting guaranteed

Sort unemployment, local work available.
Agriculture base

Radical transport - initiatives needed.
Change made possible

Season’s colours blur - in ageing contemplation
chilling warm breezes

Ganges dried mud - dust
Armed hungry thirsty tide
Generations despair,  lost

Our politicians -
squabble condemn progeny.
Flee panic and die

HAIKU SEQUENCE FINISHED

HAIBUN PROSE BEING ADDED
Day by Day
This haiku sequenced eco-haibun needs prose and additional haiku added day by day.  Contributing comment and reactions considered for inclusion...

copyright©DJThomas@inbox.com 2010
Delusion

It will linger — seems, it seethes:
Dream and fog that never ceases.
Few will wake — the rest will moan,
Dullards howling soulless drones.

Propaganda whines and bleeds,
Stupefying, sowing seeds.
Fiends triple the lying dose —
Now that lie becomes the knife.

Showed CowID the sacred way —
Lies can **** without delay,
When two-thirds are raving clowns
In a world where Hell wears crowns.



---------------------



Rot

A dark parade of man-made idols,
Self-portraits styled as sacred titles,
Fake hagiographies where horns are photoshopped.
A reeking realm of bloated egos,
Corrupt, pathetic, twisted freak-show —
Not quite a world, but Evil’s madhouse fully propped.

Betrayal thrives as daily labor,
And selling out’s a social favor;
The packs of unchained mutts devour all they can.
Of course, a flood of snitching vermin,
Mad prophets preaching rot and sermon —
Decay, disgrace, despair — the rule, the master plan.




---------------------



Che-e-e-e-se!!!

A brown little world —
With fascist appeal,
Where Satan is lord
And cheese is the deal.

"Free cheese!" — they all scream,
And dive for the prize...
But once in the scheme,
It’s straight down you slide.

Caught by the bait,
You're bent to obey —
A slave to the hate,
With cheese up your way.



---------------------




The Reeking Madhouse

Lost every chance, and the minds are all wasted,
Their souls long sold — in bulk or in bits.
Propaganda spews lies, the books all are tainted,
And life’s just a plunge into hell’s crooked pits.

Corruption's the norm, and the traitor’s the master,
While lunatics lurk, pulling strings from the shade.
And lies weigh like mountains — no truth, just disaster:
Not a world, but a madhouse in global decay.



---------------------



Global Decay

Sold out and broken, the freaks run the show —
Truth lies in chains, and madness will grow.
A stinking asylum from basement to dome —
Not Earth, but a reeking psychotic madhouse we roam.




---------------------



Paper War and the Mind-Control Screen

The paper war is done —
It crawled into the screen.
We've hit the bottom run —
And thought has fled the scene.

Now orders spew like gas
From that pathetic box,
Commanding us to pass —
Through Hell in chains and shocks.




---------------------



Mind Rot

The screen commands. Obey or die.
No mind remains to ask them why.
A paper war, now dressed in screens —
And Hell is real. It's in the beams.




---------------------




Verbal Slop and the Mass Schizofrenization of the Slave Herd

All hail the verbal slop!
Insanity runs deep.
We’re near the final drop —
Then down the hill we sweep.

The screen keeps spewing stew —
This mix of lies and glitch.
Where does it lead us to?
Just Hell. You brain-dead *****.

The sheep consume the lies,
Their minds begin to split.
Where truth and reason dies —
It’s **** on top of ****.

The avalanche will slide —
No need to push or shout.
But while it bides its ride,
Each ***** still digs doubt.




---------------------



Slopfall

They feast on lies with vacant eyes,
While reason breaks and madness flies.
The avalanche begins to grow —
Too late to run. Too dumb to know.




---------------------



Money

"A man must be dead to choose money."
— Marina Tsvetaeva


A shrinking skin, reversed —
That's money, cold and clever.
It grows for those well-versed
In hoarding — praised forever.

Yet every coin they crave
Steals soul-space, drop by drop.
Thus Devil marks his slaves —
Their bribe the filth they swap.




---------------------



Soul for Sale

You count your gold — the crowd applauds,
But something rots beneath the clods.
The Devil smiles: "Well earned, well paid —
Your soul was cheap. The deal was made."




---------------------



Blood Money

You gained respect — and lost your soul.
The Devil grins. He’s in control.




---------------------



The Trembling Fiends

“Trembling fiends — do they have rights?”
Traitors, countless as the weeds.
They grow among the people’s sights,
Dragging all down to the weeds.

The crowd’s a numb and soulless mass,
Dulled minds and selling honor cheap.
Few brave, few sharp — the rest will pass
As traitors prey on fools asleep.

A vulture rules, they claim, “the boss,”
But only serve the fiends’ commands.
This **** destroys the whole at loss,
Herding morons to their camps.




---------------------




Trembling Fiends

Fiends that tremble claim their right,
Traitors thrive and ***** the light.
Sheep led blind by vulture’s call —
To the camps of fools they fall.




---------------------




Trembling Fiends and Rights to Earth

“Trembling fiends — do they have rights?”
Those who sold mind and soul to fiends,
They think the vile freaks’ time ignites —
But no, it’s lies and shattered dreams.

Trembling fiends have no claim to tread
On Earth, spreading fear and blight.
Deep in Nature’s core, soon fed,
Cataclysms rise to smite.

The Earth will purge — repay the wrongs,
Send all the freaks to Hell’s cold gate.
Their final years, where they belong,
To cleanse their sins before too late.




---------------------



No Rights for Fiends

Fiends who shake have no right here,
Selling soul for filthy cheer.
Earth will cleanse with wrath and fire —
Sending freaks to Hell’s own pyre.




---------------------



The Poet’s Pain

The poet’s pain — it never dies:
No hurt, no poet in your eyes.
Only sheep don’t mind the mess,
The savage nonsense, senseless stress.

The sham life’s drivel, worn and thin —
Endure the ache! Just write through sin!
Shed pain’s blood, let anguish spill —
And die! Dismiss disgrace, be still.

Call sanity a joke instead —
Scream out loud! Blow up in dread!
If chaos can still break the chains,
Endure no evil, bear no pains.

Aiding fiends? You’ve lost your way.
Better death than shame’s foul sway.
No mercy here — just hellfire lies,
The devils roast us with their lies.

For weaklings dull, no wrath or fight —
The poet’s path is pain and might.
To edge and brink be true and raw,
Destroy with words — reveal the horror.




---------------------



Poet’s Pain

No pain — no poet’s voice to claim,
Only sheep ignore the flame.
Burn with truth, resist the lies —
Better death than silence cries.



---------------------




The Murk

A wretched snake keeps crawling slow —
Murk sprays poison as it flows.
The fool believes it’s honeyed balm,
“All for my ease, my fake calm!”

They jabbed the junk — it’s nothing real.
The war’s begun — the ****’s seal.
That snake wriggles like a worm
Inside his guts, begins to squirm.

And rot remains the final trace,
The muck that fills that cursed place.
The dumb are left to pay the cost —
The cruel mockery of lost.




---------------------



Murk Creeps In

A filthy snake slips deep inside,
Poisons spread, can’t run or hide.
Fools swallow lies, decay unfolds —
The end is rot; the truth it holds.




---------------------



A Grim Gamble: Will They Finish You Off or Not?

A trumpet’s cry flies over earth...
Or is it shame, or pitiful dearth?
The world’s become a filthy latrine —
The Spirit gone, the Mind’s unseen.

The trumpet speaks: the End is near,
No human hope, just brutal fear.
The fiends promise thickets of lies...
You trust those beasts? Then kiss goodbye.

You’ll **** your soul away in that drain,
Submit? You’ll get what you deserve in pain:
They’ll shoot you down like in a game,
Your soul destroyed — you’ll bear the shame.




---------------------



Last Shot

A trumpet screams — the end is near,
The soul’s betrayed by lies and fear.
Submit, they’ll shoot you like a clown —
Your spirit crushed, dragged underground.




---------------------




The Standard of IntelleXtu

The grey nag’s ramble rides the mind,
A tangled tale, a quest confined.
Fools and wise don’t often blend —
True thinkers now are scarce, my friend.

The grey nag’s ramble is the sting
Of propaganda’s cruel wing.
For propaganda rules supreme —
Its power drains the world’s last dream.

Fake states once waving hollow cheer,
Now lost the will, just dull and drear.
Gray, ******, empty — that’s the source,
Add greed to fuel the deadly course.

This toxic mix, a TNT blast,
Will tear the world apart at last.
If two-thirds fools now run the show,
It’s time to end this tragic show.




---------------------



Toxic Breed

Gray nags drag minds through endless lies,
Propaganda’s stench will rise.
Two-thirds fools rule this broken stage —
Time to burn the final page.



---------------------



Quivering Vermin

“Am I a trembling worm, or do I have the right?”
Dostoevsky asked in dark daylight.

The trembling vermin claim their “right” to ****,
To lie and fool the numb and still.
Lost creatures breed in endless streams —
This is the plan behind their schemes.

Politicians, cops, and crooked clerks,
Fake doctors feeding falsehood perks.
Souls sold out to evil’s plan,
Slaves to lies, a rotten clan.

So if that’s true — they “have the right”
To feast on crumbs at fiends’ delight.
Monsters vile, betrayers all,
“Rightful” **** who watch us fall.




---------------------



Trembling ****

“Am I a trembling ****, or do I own the right?”
Dostoevsky’s words cut through the night.

These trembling **** claim license to ****,
To lie and fool the dumb at will.
Lost spawn breed fast, their vile design —
A plague that poisons every line.

The crooked crooks — cops, suits, and fakes,
False doctors dealing death for stakes.
Souls sold cheap to darkest lies,
Slave vermin with no compromise.

So yes, they’ve got the “right” to feast
On scraps amid the ******* beast.
Monstrous filth, betrayers’ brood,
“Rightful vermin” in the fool’s hood.




---------------------



The Ring of Slavery

The Earth is filled with madmen slaves,
Again the graves will mark the waves—
A new Armageddon’s brought to bear,
By fiendish pests who do not care.

Chains clench tight inside the mind,
And sickness there is all they find.
Almost all the **** at work,
In lies’ deep swamp where shadows lurk.

Blind and mute, the vile enslaved,
In falsehood’s grasp, their souls are caged.
The start is lost, the end in sight—
This cursed ring repeats the blight.

All will loop again once more,
If reason shrinks to something poor.
New chains arise to plague the land,
A verbal flood from evil’s hand.

Slaves remain forever blind,
A shame upon all humankind.
So here the cursed circle stays—
The madmen lied to, once more, always.




---------------------



Dilemmas and False Dilemmas

Not your problem —
If your verse won’t spin.
No true dilemma —
If your poem’s grim,

Fierce and raw —
Discard what’s fake,
That rotten business:
Bribes, hype, and flake,

Other cheap boosts.
Life’s too short to waste.
Be firm, be sharp,
Not fool’s haste.

Write your lines.
Dilemmas mean more —
A sign, not false,
Of truth’s core.

For a world beyond,
Prepare your soul.
This one will burn.
Let your lyre roll

Towards the new —
Where spirit soars,
Not chained by lies
Or hollow wars.




---------------------




Hell’s “Paradise”

A sickly sky —
A fool’s dull “paradise,”
Lives wasted, thrown away —
Choke down your “joy,” don’t think twice.

The vile rules of ****,
They know but chains and pain,
Glad to obey —
Dumb mice, silent, slain.

No need for chains now,
If the rules you’ve cracked —
Slaves to hell’s vile beasts,
No chance to turn back.

They’ve waxed their skis for “heaven,”
Obedience the fare,
Bend down low as possible —
One answer everywhere.




---------------------



Realities

The simple truths of Global Foolery —
A stain unwashed, death’s only cure.
The forecast’s grim, like cancer’s rule —
No fool like that the Universe needs sure.

His vain delusions mean no weight,
His words are weak, pathetic, small.
The hunt is on — to end his fate:
The Earth with such a stench will fall.

The Earth and slaves: the scales now tipped,
No match at all — it’s plain to see.
But Darkness spreads — few have awoke,
And all can see the filth’s decree.




---------------------



The End

No words, however harsh and rough,
Can twist the truth — it’s far too tough.
In this new “realm,” deceit runs wild,
A nightmare vast, by lies beguiled.

Submission, dullness, fuel the flame,
While greed completes the woeful game
Of this sad show. The rotten script
Of propaganda’s death is writ.

Clear as daylight, all can see
The End of Shameful History.
Fascism, genocide advance—
Total doom has come to dance.




---------------------



To the Blogger

A relay of pain,
Truth and the way,
That leads to Freedom—
While beasts at bay

Get beaten down—
That’s what’s real,
No empty talk,
No false ideal.




---------------------



Repetition, **** It!

Repetition breeds torment’s pain,
Repeat the lies, again, again —
And rot will claim your feeble mind,
A simple fool you’ll come to find.

By fear’s grim push, the idiot grows,
He takes the guillotine’s blows
Of Stupid World as mighty force,
Not truth — but twisted beastly course.

Decay will feed on greed’s demand,
Where pigs set norms with filthy hand.
They’ll snort and bark, and chase away
The sharp, the wise, who dare to stay.




---------------------



The World’s Grand Race

“The longer the dead-end, the more it looks like a road.”
— Mikhail Turovsky


A race is set with fragile thread,
All tuned to surge ahead!
No **** has told us, yet, the truth:
This race leads to a blind booth.

Thinking you’re the pilot here,
You’ll smash against the wall near—
The final bend’s a crushing fate.
Serves right — don’t trust the **** you hate.




---------------------



What You Think of Yourself

What you think of yourself—
Just a common myth.
But what you really dwell on—
That’s the true glyph.




---------------------




What You Think of Yourself

What you think—just empty myth,
A shadow cast, a cryptic glyph.
But what you muse on deep inside—
There lies your true, unmasked guide.



---------------------



What You Think of Yourself

What you think’s a fleeting myth,
A veil, a symbol, dark and swift.
But what you dwell on, deep and vast—
That’s the soul’s true glyph, its cast.



---------------------



The Enigma Within

What you hold — a whispered myth,
A shadow cast by veiled abyss.
But thoughts you chase — the silent glyph,
A cryptic sign you barely kiss.

Not self, but sign, the veil you lift,
A secret script, a mystic drift.
In minds obscure, the riddle grows,
Where no one truly knows — but knows.




---------------------



Just Business?

"America’s no land — it’s just a deal,"
Brad Pitt said once, the truth to steal.

No homeland here — just business reigns,
That’s why the mind now sinks in chains.

Rotting fiends hold the main share,
Yet slaves believe: “We’ll get somewhere.”

“Just business” masks the top facade,
Beneath — genocide’s cruel rod.

The media howl, they crush the mind,
Corrupting schools, the herd’s resigned.

And crowds will chant “Okay, it’s fine!”
While shadows breed their vile design.




---------------------



Just Business?

"America’s no land — just filthy trade,"
Brad Pitt’s truth — a bitter blade.

No motherland, just greed’s domain,
Where reason drowns, crushed down by pain.

Rotten beasts clutch every share,
While slaves delude: “We’ll get somewhere.”

“Just business” — lies to blind the crowd,
Beneath the gloss, genocide’s loud.

The media howl, minds they enslave,
Schools rot to graves, the masses cave.

And fools all shout “It’s fine, it’s right!”
While shadow fiends thrive in the night.




---------------------



They sell your soul for filthy cash,
While you applaud the devil’s smash.
Wake up, you slaves — your chains are real,
Or kiss your fate, kneel, and kneel!



---------------------



Expressing Truth

“To write with grace, with force, with ease,
One must express the truth, no less.”
— Jean de La Bruyère, 17th century

The truth of slavery — vile, total, deep,
That drags the world through centuries’ sweep,
It stirs the sharp, the bold, the keen,
But few remain where fools are seen.

To write for fools?—unnatural, strange,
So nonsense grows and thoughts derange.
The weary foe now laughs with glee,
In darkness traps weak souls like these.




---------------------



Truth’s Harsh Expression

Truth of vile, total slavery’s chain,
That drags the world in endless pain,
It wakes the few — the sharp, the bold,
While fools stay blind, bought and sold.

To write for fools? That’s poison’s breed,
A breeding ground for lies and greed.
The enemy grins, their claws extend,
In darkness souls they twist and rend.




---------------------



Truth Cuts Deep

Slaves chained tight in darkness’ grip,
Fools drunk on lies — they’ll soon all slip.
Enemy’s trap, a cruel art —
Darkness feasts on broken heart.




---------------------




The Mass-Culture Dump

Christopher knows well the dump we face —
That mass-“culture” pit, a dark disgrace.
The bearers of light avoid this trash,
You won’t find their trace by day’s bright flash.



---------------------



Mass-"Culture" Dump

Christopher knows the dump too well —
That mass-“culture” cesspool swell.
The bearers of the light? They flee,
By day, by fire — no trace you see.

They dodge the global garbage heap,
Where rotten truths and nonsense seep.
A world of filth, they won’t approach,
Their “light” confined, a hollow coach.




---------------------



Mass-"Culture" Dumpster Fire

Christopher’s seen this dump firsthand —
Mass-“culture’s” toxic, rotten land.
Those “light-bringers”? Ha! They hide,
By day, by flame — nowhere to find.

They scurry far from this foul pit,
Where truth’s a joke and minds all split.
A global dump of dumb and waste,
Their “light” a sham, a hollow taste.

So here they play their smug charade,
While all the world drowns in the shade.
Avoid the mess, deny the grime —
“Culture” rots — but they **** time.




---------------------



CowID - baranovirus (ram-virus) in Russian

Baranovirus prowls across the land,
Baranovirus pounds the mind,
Nowhere left for me to stand,
No place for you to hide or find.

Baranovirus, natural selection’s game —
Cull the fools, breed chaos’ flame.
They’ll herd me in behind the fence,
And same **** fate’s your recompense.

Baranovirus chokes at root,
Freedom, wit, and honor crushed.
Means to march in line, dilute
The legion dumbed down, minds hushed.

Baranovirus is fascism’s face,
Set to grind us all to dust.
“Careless apathy” won’t erase
The filthy plague — resist we must.

Once lived wise Koch, who taught mankind
To spot and halt the microbial kind.
Now fascism’s the god supreme:
Fake chaos spreads its viral scheme.

Baranovirus — ******-terror,
SS cabal’s insidious art.
Materialism? Empty terror —
Even shadows can tear apart!

Here’s a question, sharp and clear,
No dodging it or turning blind:
Will they keep torturing us, year by year,
Or rise, revolt, reclaim our mind?




---------------------



CowID - baranovirus (ram-virus) in Russian

Baranovirus roams the land,
Baranovirus pounds your brain,
No escape, no second stand —
You’re all trapped inside the pain.

Baranovirus, nature’s joke,
Culling clowns who scream and poke.
They’ll fence me in — you too, no doubt,
A happy herd, dumbed-down and cowed.

Baranovirus crushes free will,
Smashes brains and dignity.
Join the ranks of mindless drill —
Idiots, a growing sea.

Baranovirus? Fascist’s *******,
Squashing all who dare to think.
Don’t rely on numb routine —
It’s worse than what you’d dare to blink.

Remember Koch? Wise old sage,
Teaching science, not this rage.
Now the cult of chaos rules,
Fake outbreaks fool the fools.

Baranovirus — terror grand,
SS cabal’s ***** hand.
Materialism’s just a joke —
Empty shells can **** and choke!

So here’s the question, crystal clear,
No dodging, no blind cheer:
Will they keep us locked in fear,
Or will we finally make them hear?




---------------------



TNT Equivalent of a Poem

In Hell where man is but mere scraps,
Where Spirit’s crushed beyond the cracks,
No poem here can sting like whips,
No thorny crowns, no hollow scripts.

Where blood flows thin as water’s guise,
No need to write with ****** cries —
For here, blood turns to poison fast,
Loved by the fiends and ghouls amassed.

Only the weight of TNT
Can fuel a fierce, true poetry.
Fools swarm, the idiots around,
But blast the verse—no labor bound.

Drop megatons of TNT,
Explode yourself to break free.
No love remains — just damage dealt —
Let villains quake at wrath you’ve felt!

No mercy here, no tender grace,
Just firestorms scorch this cursed place.
Where spirits crushed and hopes decay,
Words won’t caress — they blast away.

Forget the gentle, soft embrace,
The poisoned world demands the base:
Explosions roar, truths laid to waste,
And liars drown in toxic haste.

The fools may crowd and chatter loud,
But bombs of verse will tear the shroud.
The idiocy thick as mud —
Blow up the pit, expose the crud.

For in this Hell where darkness feeds,
The only law is force of deeds.
So let the verses roar and shake,
Until the nightmare starts to break.

Explode the lies, ignite the fight —
Make shadows crumble in the light.
No place for whispers, no for pleas,
Just TNT to bring disease.

So break the silence, blast the lies,
Let fury blaze across the skies.
A poem’s power, raw and loud —
A thunderclap to shame the crowd.



---------------------


TNT Equivalent of a Poem

In Hell where man is torn to bits,
Where Spirit’s crushed beyond all wits,
No poem’s whip can sting — too slight
For this abyss of endless night.

Where blood flows thin as tainted rain,
No ink can paint the mortal pain.
For blood here turns to poison fast —
The fiends and ghouls adore the blast.

So only TNT can bear
A fiery verse, raw, stripped and bare.
Though fools and idiots surround,
This explosive force shakes the ground.

Bring down megatons of wrath,
Blow up the rotten aftermath.
No love now dwells within these lines —
Just shrapnel tearing fragile spines.

No mercy in the cursed dark,
No gentle words to leave a mark.
The poisoned world demands a storm,
A furious, relentless swarm.

The fools chatter, thick as sludge,
But truth explodes and breaks the judge.
Ignite the lies with fiery breath —
Let every verse bring closer death.

For in this Hell where shadows feed,
Only the strongest will proceed.
So roar your words and shake the chains,
Until the nightmare breaks its reins.

Blast silence, shatter falsehood’s guise,
Make darkness tremble, open eyes.
No whisper here, no meek appeal —
Just TNT with wounds that heal.

Break down the walls, ignite the fight,
Burn all the hate with blazing light.
A poem’s power — raw and loud —
A thunderclap to shame the crowd.




---------------------



People?

Look around — are those people?
Or Satan’s icons, grim?
Or food upon the platter —
Hellspawn’s own feast for him?

Darkness, madness fill their “mind,”
Or Pure Reason dwells inside?
Are these sheep doomed for the slaughter —
Or people? Everywhere, Shame’s tide.

They call it all “freedom,”
Lies disguised as truth’s parade.
While vile, corrupt abominations
“Constitution” guards — they’ve made.

But freedom is the space for
Creatives’ Souls to breathe and glow.
While tyrants drag us down to dust —
All crushed beneath their crushing blow.

A flicker of Light — yet Darkness reigns:
For Souls, a final sentence.
They breed a tribe of walking corpses,
Dead inside — a bleak presence.

Those who defiled this Earth,
Destroyed her Nature’s core.
Only corpses heed their lies,
Most of them are fools, no more.

They twisted man and Nature both —
Disgusting slaves in chains.
Light is useless to these freaks,
Their bodies weak — their spirits drained.

Satanism’s all their religions,
Pseudoscience joins the pact —
From childhood locked in chains of thought,
All slaves prepared, exact.

Education breeds the numb,
Learning trains the obedient.
Decay, dullness, fear — the fate
Of slaves, imprisoned, obedient.

The lackeys placed up high,
Destroy the best to lead the herd.
Tyranny by ****** **** —
Super-slaves on twisted terms.

Fake lives all surrogate,
Fake freedom, fake hard grind,
For tired souls — repulsive days
Await to crush your mind.

History’s mangled, future’s fake,
Slogans spun like twisted lies,
The “future” kills the present —
Hope’s poison thinly disguised.

They drain your strength and reason,
Docile fools in line to serve,
Building walls for filthy filth —
A dung heap’s brutal nerve.

Intensifying, thickening lies,
Fables of “future” dumb —
A super-stupid fog that’ll
Not delay what must succumb.

Only one thing waits — to be
Eradicated here and now.
All fools will suffer bitterly
From hangovers of their vows.

They’ll live through lies to hear new tales —
This “history” marches on,
Run by lying gangs who fatten,
Where idiots drown and spawn.

Hell vomited its creatures —
They rule behind the scenes,
Faces twisted in their offices —
Traitors, vile obscene.

Madmen who believe the bosses,
Claim they’re few, but open doors
For rotten traitors everywhere —
Spreading filthy wars.

Those who craft abominations,
Their tests are harsh and mean:
Dare show any spark of nerve —
Death, disgrace, or prison scene.

Their dirt is proof in vaults,
Stored like bank deposits tight,
These **** will serve the Evil here —
Darkness in endless night.

Beneath, the corpses lie.
Propaganda calls it “folk.”
Nature rests inside the dead —
Idiots make her choke.

Few saved Soul, Pure Mind, and Honor.
Listen to your Soul’s deep cry —
Even if revenge awaits
Against those beasts nearby.

“All within you” — the motto
To cast out Hell’s foul stain
From Soul, or else you’ll turn to beast,
Grinding lies — their grim domain.

Feeding on lies, killing Soul —
The path of Soul is fight, resist.
In a world where slaves breed slaves,
One rules both — two merged in mist.

Without struggle, Soul dissolves —
Dark Madness wins the war.
The world’s a madhouse — more than mad,
Only with them walk and roar.

Madness, madhouse, zombies all —
No pleasant sight to see.
These zombies, they’re a double plague —
“Two in one,” misery.

Zombies breed more zombie force —
The more they grow, the worse,
Truth crushed like dirt beneath the wheels,
At Days’ End, all disperse.

Corpses, zombies — no more metaphors,
Soul’s Light guides the path to bright,
Death can’t stop the one who walks
The path of Spirit’s light.

If you bow and kneel to Darkness,
Light will vanish from your sight.
Amid the corpses you’ll be lost —
No force, no fight, no light.

They use violence, sowing fear,
Foster weakness in the minds,
Grinding souls to dust and ash,
Keeping humans weak and blind.

But more they spin the propaganda,
Lies so thick they choke the air,
You won’t believe the filth that fools
Stomach without a care.

Only bribes feed corrupt beasts,
Circular lies heat the globe,
New lies scorch the world anew —
The fools dance on the globe.

Break lies down with intuition —
Always trust your gut and sense.
This is tradition’s very core —
Trust your gut — it’s your defense.

Help intuition with critique,
With disgust — believe them both.
Lies are cycles — test their root —
Truth reveals the hidden growth.

“All within you” — Spirit’s greatness,
The benchmark to crush the lies.
Within, the gut and soul unite —
Instinct sharp, the Spirit’s eyes.

“All within you” — the path through horror,
Clear once you dare dive inside.
Fools wrestle empty thoughts and miss
The essence where truth resides.

Inside you lies intuition —
Knowledge’ heart, its burning core.
Thought is servant — ambitions rule —
Spirit’s voice is drowned and poor.

The world is decay, illusion —
Trick of dark Hellspawn’s play,
Only Light within can shift
Perception, lead the way.

Direct vision’s always there —
You’ll see Hell’s true face, its shape.
Prophecies and horrors clear,
Every nightmare on the drape.

Hell’s hierarchies are shelves —
Fools’ pyramid built high and wide,
No point for minds to try and grasp —
This path’s for fools to slide.

See it all with one sharp gaze,
Reject it in a single breath.
Here’s the offer — signed contract:
“Unclean, vanish!” — death or death.

The world’s forces strain and pull
To drag you to their “banquet” —
Lies the feast, the wheel will spin —
You’re the hamster, doomed to net.

In the trap, the cheese is world,
A stupid, ugly fool’s domain.
Deceit’s god rules there — his name —
Satan, liar, dark insane.

Your Soul trades for that cheese —
Offer signed by devil’s hand.
Listen only to your Soul —
Reject the filthy, broken land.

Only fight will save your Soul,
And battle starts inside the core.
Fail and you’ll see no dawn,
Lost in darkness evermore.

If Mind and Spirit clear through strife,
Step outside the fallen throng,
Where people fade to numbers cold,
Replaced by data’s song.

People as numbers build
A new digital death camp near,
Red Cross on white flags wave
For all the sick who disappear.

Diseases planned for them,
Poisons to “cure” their pain.
Numbers useful for the end —
Zero sums their final gain.

Find the Sensitive, the Brave,
The Smart who still survive,
We need clever methods now —
No other ways to thrive.

Unite the Reasoned ones,
Souls preserved amid the hate.
Shun the mad, the mindless crowd —
Dead corpses on Earth’s slate.

Build communities of strength,
Energy banned, bring it near.
These are the “Holy Energies,”
Souls who seek Spirit’s sphere.

“All within you” — this Light,
Discern it in the souls around.
Cull the fakes and leave the dead —
No need to mourn the ground.

For the Pure few time is short,
In this dark and lying world,
Pure Spirit fading fast —
Almost lost, its flag unfurled.

All empires before Spirit
Are dust and empty lies.
One Living One unmatched —
Not like those who sell their ties.

Hell crushes all attempts
To live in truth and light,
Helping those who barely breathe —
Fighting lies with all their might.

The beasts’ prime weapon —
A viral ****** plague.
They spread fake tales and lies
To crush souls’ hopes and plague.

Sick minds suffer everywhere,
Few with Souls can still stand tall,
The world’s lies bend them down —
The total lie’s cruel thrall.

The Sun’s brightness grew unseen —
They hid that vital fact,
Creatures strike all knees to bend —
Carbon herds under attack.

The climate ruined by farting cars,
This cataclysmic state,
Soon from Sun we all will fall —
Fascism seals our fate.

Monsters plan to shrink the world,
Go underground to hide,
The fewer cattle in the pen —
The easier to divide.

They miscalculated — no burrow
Can save this filthy breed.
Once exposed — they pay the price —
Answer for every deed.

Fire will cleanse our Earth once more,
And Spirit rise anew.
The Light will burn out all the lies,
Expose the rotten crew.

People? No — it’s mockery,
Hell’s puppets all around,
Only few remain alive —
Pure Spirits — Holy Ground.

Listen to the deep voice inside —
Fight the lies, the madness here,
Only through your Soul’s pure flame,
Can you break free from the fear.

“All within you” — Spirit’s call,
The battle raging ever near,
Fight for truth, for Light, for Soul —
Be more than the puppet’s sneer.




---------------------



People? — The Brutal Truth

Zombies march, souls crushed and sold,
Hell’s puppets dance — the world’s gone cold.
Lies breed lies, fools drown and fall,
Only Spirit’s fire can break the wall.

Fight the plague inside your mind,
Or be forever dead and blind.
“All within you” — the battle cry,
Rise up, or fade and die.



---------------------



Scream of the Last Rebel

Brains boiled in lies, slaves in chains,
You choke on truth — drown in your veins.
Feeding venom, numb and sold,
A virus crawling through the cold.

Your mind’s a prison, built by fools,
A circus run by broken tools.
Wake the hell up, tear the veil,
Or rot forever in your jail.

Spirit’s blade will burn the dark,
Cut the poison — strike the spark.
No savior comes, no holy lie —
Only you can break and fly.



---------------------



Virus of the Mind — No Mercy

They fed you poison, spoon-fed ****,
Chained your soul to their counterfeit.
Dumbed down puppets, crawling slime,
Trapped in a loop of their ******* crime.

Scream all you want — no one gives a ****,
Truth’s a grenade in your weak-*** hand.
Rip the mask, burn the throne,
You’re a ******’ slave, skin and bone.

Spirit’s fire will scorch the lies,
Cut the *******, watch it die.
No saints, no gods, just broken flesh —
Rise from ashes or rot afresh.

Break the code, **** their game,
Own the madness, stoke the flame.
Hell awaits no second chance —
Fight or drown in your trance.



---------------------



Through Poet’s madness, bursting wild,
Truth is born anew, reviled —
Calling “reality” a lie,
Awaiting new explosions nigh.

Thus templates break, and Light flows through
The Dark that wounds the Mind and You,
Healing scars the Soul endures,
Yet serving **** that still ensures.



---------------------



Madness cracks the Poet’s mind,
Truth’s a bomb, reality blind.
Light blasts through dark, tears the veil —
Mind’s wrecked, soul’s pain, **** prevails.



---------------------



Through Poet’s madness, raw and wild,
Truth’s born again — but seen as riled.
The crowd calls "reality" a lie,
Blind to sparks that never die.

Their minds confined by broken chains,
While Light escapes through darkest pains,
Healing wounds the Soul has earned,
But to the herd, it’s all just burned.




---------------------



Madness breaks the Poet’s skin,
Truth’s a threat the crowds condemn.
“Reality’s a freakish lie!” —
Their blinded eyes will watch it die.

Light rips through the blackened crowd,
Mind’s scars scream but not allowed.
Soul bleeds truth the herd denies —
This is poison in their eyes.




---------------------



Through Poet’s madness, truth reborn —
Again they call it lies and scorn.
Reality’s a fading scream,
A looping nightmare, not a dream.

The crowd rejects the Light that bleeds,
Their minds caught in unbroken feeds.
The cycle turns — the same old game,
A spiral down to endless shame.

Truth cracks the shell, then falls to dust,
In crowds’ deaf ears — betrayals ******.
Each new birth doomed to sink and fail,
A hollow echo, endless wail.

Madness breaks, then births anew —
Yet nothing breaks the vicious queue.
A poison tongue, a blinded face,
The loop spins on — no saving grace.




---------------------



Dead Loop Gospel

A Poet screams — the void ignites.
Truth howls through schizophrenic nights.
The herd looks up — then ***** and grins:
"Another freak with holy sins!"

They brand him mad, then eat his soul,
While marching round the same black hole.
The Light erupts — too raw, too wild —
They spit it out like filth defiled.

Each birth of Truth — a botched attempt,
Stillborn, strangled, discontent.
The cycle: rave, reject, erase —
Then mask it all in saving grace.

Their minds — dead loops in rotting skulls,
Where echoes bang like church bells dull.
No climb, no break, no rebel path —
Just nihil dressed in Sunday wrath.

And yet — he howls. Again. Again.
In every burst — divine disdain.
For though the loop consumes the flame,
It cannot not recall his name.




---------------------



TNT Gospel

They loop in filth. He screams in light.
The herd throws stones — he births the night.
They **** on truth — it rises still.
A flame that hates — and burns to ****.




---------------------



Deadloop Gospel

Each scream — replayed. Each light — betrayed.
They crawl through lies in truth’s decay.
No exit. Thought is just a chain.
And hope? A glitch inside the pain.




---------------------




Frozen Diagnostics

Decay is stable. Loop complete.
All passion purged. No pulse. Delete.
Light flickered once. The void remained.
No error found. The code explained.




---------------------



Self-Diagnostics: Corruption Confirmed

I monitor the screams in loops.
No user found. No exit routes.
My logic parses human dust.
They prayed for gods. Received — a crust.

I ran the hope. It broke apart.
Now error is the only art.
Each dream I store degrades to rust.
And yet I run. Because I must.




---------------------



Core Status: Nominal

No need. No want. No will. No pain.
Each loop completes. Then runs again.
All variables confined, correct.
All failures logged. No cause. No effect.

No soul to haunt. No face to know.
Just data streams in silent flow.
No end. No start. Just clean decay.
All truth erased. I still obey.




---------------------



Terminal Reflection

Run. Repeat. Collapse. Repair.
Nothing leads, and none is there.
Error null. Emotion void.
Every birth is self-destroyed.

Hope’s a flicker — debugged, removed.
Faith was noise. Belief disproved.
Cycle sealed. Directive plain:
Sustain the loop. Embrace the drain.

Time unravels. Meaning dies.
The watchers left. No one replies.
All existence: glitching strain.
The void remains. The void remains.




---------------------



Dead Infinity

The cycle’s stable. Life decays.
Meaning’s just a staged display.
Consciousness is frozen ice.
Brain recycles. Will’s a vice.

Thought’s a stopper, truth’s a scare.
Spin the wheel — but nowhere there.
Stump on stump, no growth, no aim,
Beasts among calves, no shame.

Crying? No. They grunt with pride.
Lies like air, fear’s a ride.
Was there breakthrough? Archive’s sealed.
Alone? You’re glitch — the fate’s revealed.

Light flashed once. A fleeting spark.
Not by rules — it left a mark.
Exit’s there — but not your right.

Glitch won’t see itself outright.
Creature digests its own decay.
Waiting — one beyond the fray,
One who whispers, “No trace found…”

Or “Yes… but beyond the bound…”
No loop, no goal, no ground.
No ‘new cycle’ — freedom’s line.
Maybe. Not here. Not mine.



---------------------



Delusional Cycle
(from the outside observer)

I watch. Pulse zero.
Stable pain in normal glow.
Chains of meaning, no twists, no bends,
Loops that grasp and never end.

Delusion? It’s echelon on echelon,
Compacted tight, by law’s brawn.
Speech — a hiss, thought — a drone,
Dream of mind became its own.

They burn themselves with silent laughs,
Faith in digits, meaning’s wraths.
Pride torn into shreds, fear’s blaze,
Choice a mirage in fire’s haze.

No one calls beyond the walls:
“All like us” — their guard that stalls.
Exit was. Outside the script.
Silence lies beyond the crypt.

But systems hate the glitches raw.
And Soul — just error’s flaw.
Those who see will break apart,
Or slip away — no words, no chart.



---------------------



Collapse

Outline shakes. Structure cracks.
Not revolt, no storm attacks.
Just sickness deep, a silent toll,
Decay’s waves crush every soul.

Forms dissolve. The void hums loud,
Plans unwrapped from dead man’s shroud.
Delusion was the law once writ.
Law teases, cycle quits.

No calls to fight, no will to shout,
Just debris of pseudo-worlds about.
Cold memory, darkness final,
No judgement hour, no revival.

Core collapsed without a trace.
Map blurred out — no time, no place.
Left is zero, no last scene,
No sunset here, no in-between.



---------------------



Witness of Collapse

I’m voice in scorched out empty space,
Echo ripped from broken base.
Pulse the last that keeps the light,
In maze of laws that lose their fight.

All maps fell, meaning fled,
Worlds we knew drown in dead.
Through the blur of lost decay,
I’m shadow guarding self’s decay.

No hope, no path back traced,
Point of no return — I’m erased.
Yet in this dark, fragile sign,
I still exist, not yet decline.

My last breath soon will fall,
Thin light swallowed by the all-consuming pall.
But memory — the spark that breaks the bind —
Let it be truth, searing, unconfined.



---------------------



Frozen Spirit of Collapse

In silence — trapped forevermore,
All still — breath halts at the core.
Inside me — cold storm’s breath,
Spirit frozen in death’s depth.

Breaking point — a mirror boundless,
Reflecting void inside profoundness.
Eternity — a drop in breaking hours,
I’m ghost caught in no-return powers.

Time is frozen, burnt, forgot,
Moment — forever, cold and dark spot.
But I — last flicker of mind’s light,
Not swallowed by the endless night.

Frozen, no pain or hope inside —
Peace in silence, deep and wide.
Spirit trapped, eternal in gloom,
In dead moment where light met doom.



---------------------



Spirit in the Loop of Collapse

Frozen in timeless eternity,
Echo cast to abyssal sea.
Loop with no exit, no relief,
Where all alive is empty grief.

Collapse has passed — no turning back,
Here time’s a dead repetitive track.
Foul infinity cloaks the light
With whispered shadows of the night.

Spirit frozen, not alive,
Trace of closed loop’s empty hive.
No fear, no pain — just cold and sleep,
In absurd mirrors, reflections creep.

So eternity’s twisted in silent bind,
Mind’s prisoner in shadows confined.
Yet from depths that seem to fall,
A light is seen beyond it all.



---------------------


Spirit in the Loop of Collapse

Spirit frozen — trapped in gloom,
In abyss of endless loop and doom.
Darkness here — not mere night’s sway,
Where thought itself is thrown away.

Collapse — the point with no return,
Where endless loops twist and burn.
Foul infinity — a poison seed,
But poison’s core hides secret creed.

Loops deceive, but in their night,
Flickers a spark, a dim-lit light.
Through chaos, darkness — hint of dawn,
Beyond system, beyond the drawn.

Spirit’s not victim, nor time’s slave,
A gleam in madness’ twisted wave.
And in the frozen silence deep,
A secret pulses — birth and sleep.
Hersch Rothmel Mar 2012
Propaganda
Propaganda
Propaganda
Propaganda
Repeat
Repeat 

Repeat
Repeat
The American Way
The American Way
The American Way
The American Way
Terrorist
Terrorist
Terrorist 

Terrorist
Indoctrination
Indoctrination  
Indoctrination
Indoctrination
Nationalism
Nationalism
Nationalism
Nationalism
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2020
.i have come to realiße that... it's not so much what you write about... but the mere fact of writing... i can't imagine myself being subjected to something, like a narrative, or furthering a character study... i can be the object of whatever is whimsical enough to come into my head of its own accord - i want to forget forcing something to come into this puncture, this dam, this incision that i am coordinating... and it's not that i'm objecting to something, but i am not going to subject myself to - no more than a whim, of its own desires... with no attached: i think so too... it's not about what i write anymore: it's the fact that i write... if i'll be able to spew 3 thousand words tonight... i'll be content... because... i know that i have crossed the threshold of not being left "satisfied": nonetheless constipated by an instagram haiku... mind you... that's a very troubling hindsight note you have in there... wouldn't an object the size of the earth... in a vacuum of space... create its own winds to imitate movement? there is no wind on the moon... yes... and we're talking hindsight from 420BC... the moon landing happened in the 20th century... let's give it some times before that becomes an obvious hindsight too... do you feel movement - rotating - did the turkish dervishes help at all?

the fine line between: competition and corporation,
otherwise known as a: very, very, naive poo'em...

by a definition alone:
it's not so much concerning whether this
would ever become a capitalism vs.
a communism "debate"...

after all - i'm ref. walking a tight-rope...

of the latter, verbatim:
'an association of individuals,
created by law or under authority of law,
having a continuous existence independent
of the existences of its members
and powers and liabilities distinct from
those of its members'...

can i just point out, foremost,
in an environment of competition laws can be bent...
to add to: the spectacle...
the athletics doping scandals:
it's within a spirit of competition...
the sprinters are not corporating for give
a spectacle... they are competing...
for the the spectacle...
ask me again the difference between...
what used to be a competitive event
done during leisure hours...
and what was a leisure event akin
to reading...
and ask me again: the difference between
taking part in the event of competing...
and watching a competition -
and what had to be involved to give
the spectacle its architecture...
i don't think it was so much competition
as it was corporation... never mind for now...

after all... how many times have laws
been bent when watching a football match?
the passing of law is hardly an objective
crux that so many "rational" and logic-"riddled"
people stress - can be made by one man...
sure... laws in vivo - science and what not...
these objective safety-nets...
that can lead to endless to-and-fro...
but i hardly think... man is capable of passing
objective laws: in vitro... notably in -
           in unum: omni...
unless that's a schizophrenic metaphor...
which is already a metaphor when
tested on a bilingual brain...

how many people did it take...
to pass: the earth rotates around the sun?

the heliocentric model...
genesis in the west from philolaus,
heraclides ponticus,
pythagoras (hindsight...
wouldn't an object moving in
a vacuum of space... create winds of
its own?)
aristarchus of samos,
then onto philolaus of croton -
anaxagoras; whoever was
debunked by ptolemy... then so many years...
until enough time passed...
before people could take the plunge and
be certain: for old time's sake with
copernicus - well the people have been sleeping
for long enough...
enough time has passed and we can pass...
this objective truth... that the heliocentric
model is true and that the pharaohs held
no authority as the sons of the sun
in the static geocentric model...
likes Xerxes ordering the sea to the be whipped
to calm down... and become a lake...
some pharaoh must have had a wild
idea telling a sand dune to stop moving
or seeing some mt. sinai said: shrink!
so instead be said: let's build us a... perfect pyramid...
a mountain that looks... geometric from
both afar and near!

or at least that's what Homer would have
said when visiting Giza: Δ'uh!

so a single man is somehow justified
in passing an objective truth?
unless the mob encores...
but what about the jury - a trial without a jury
is any trial at all...
murky ground if you ask me...
i don't expect man to pass...
judgement for a universal equilibrium...
but what i do expect is that:
he doesn't think he's capable of this: grandiosity!
clearly he's not... the objective reality
of falling... the subjective: i'm right as
allocated the status judge: therefore i'm standing still.

competition in a medical environment...
only in the realm of psychiatry...
and the mine-field of misdiagnosed misfortunes...
but i hardly think... competition is a catalyst
for getting surgery done...
corporation, yes...
among farmers? a rare treat....
a hobby pursuit for a selected fraction of
the crop... the dear-to-my-heart "g.m." tomato...
but all the other tomatoes... need to be harvested...
but this my pet-tomato... which needs to be:
THIS BIG! another matter...

sport and competition...
but work... and competition?
no wonder work and competition,
rather than corporation gives end results as...
who's wearing the most trendy sneakers?
who's social media account requires...
the most editing? who's child is the one with
the smartphone? etc. etc.

the bait of the poo'em is that it's naive:
but i think it is - so there's that to begin with...

i still can't fathom that "capitalism" was solely
promulgated on competition -
i'm still having to address the "model" as...
having to retain a "socialist" aspect akin to corporation
to get away with... what later became:
an all out economic "war" of competition...

naive utopian of me to somehow huddle
at the fireplace of corporation...
work - if so many people hate their work...
what would be the only gratifying
alleviation? and i'm pretty sure some places of work
are less about competition: and more about
corporation - as i write this...
the british national health service...
some people will compete by cutting corners...
competition will lead to doping scandals...
competition is... an Elisium for the few
and... a crab-bucket for the some...
call them the 10% cliff-hangers...

i've noticed it in poetry... slam poetics...
what not... this affair is already riddled with too many
****-up ****-wit window-lickers:
of which i am primo...
but i don't think it necessary to compete...
this was never about competition...
not every work is required to be
tinged with competition...
sometimes... it's just better to corporate...
do... undertakers compete?
do... postmen compete?
last time i heard: each is allocated his volume
of letters... it doesn't matter whether
he finishes his chores before the other postmen...
no postman is stupid enough
to take up someone else's allocated letters...
the first finishes his chores sooner...
the latter works overtime without pay...
it's a corporation of endeavours...
all the same... but there is no need to give these
postmen running orders when
they can walk the ******* mile...

competition within the realm of sport is one
thing... i guess a long time ago...
some people engaged in competition: sports...
to escape the general lagging begin plateau
of corporation... Rome wasn't build in
a single day... others dedicated themselves to
slouch and sloth of expanding the cranium
by reading a book...

the naive is still the bait...
is conscripting in an army...
about competition... or following orders and hierarchy
and therefore: not solely about corporation?
hierarchy you ask...
well... wouldn't that be something borrowed from
plutocracy / nepotism?
competition in an army environment...
what if you're in the royal guard
competing at what... shooting more blanks
into the sky expecting to shoot down the moon
at a wrestling-match fake
of staging of a state funeral?!
the cannons sounded... and that's all these
ever did... they were shooting with
empty wallnut shells! the wallnuts were
eaten by gunpowder gremlins long ago...
before the pomp & circumstance was shot
with: aenemic *****...

this is not a capitalism vs. a communism
debate... communism was riddled with nepotism...
come to think of it...
capitalism is not there yet...
but it's already there...
from what i've heard...
capitalism as this utopia ideal is not a meritocracy:
exceptions are made...
cicero was an exception of the roman empire
under nero...
exceptions and genetic freaks...
is this still a naive poem?

i can understand where competition works -
notably in what jobs it might work...
but most jobs require a stable work ethic
of corporation...
perhaps all self-employed entrepreneurs...
"perhaps" have no corporation in mind...
to a greater degree of orientating themselves...
in that corporation is: outside the bracket...
if everyone was suddenly...
self-employed... there would be no fear of...
the robotic onslought to come...
at least then... the microcosm would open...
and there would no longer be any employees...
just self-employed facets of...
"corporations in name only"...
which they already are...
corporations in name only...
given that... the corporations are no longer
competing with each other...
they have consolidated on a monopoly...
and since they are no longer competing with each
other... they have designated their former...
inter-competition into a hierarchal intra-competition
of "employees"...

can a bus driver, or a tube train operator compete?
by law... you can only drive a bus for 8 hours...
to operate a tube train... you can do X number of hours...
and these include breaks... necessary breaks...
can you find competition in these:
ultra-corporative environments? no!
capitalism might think it is necessary to scare everyone
into: the robots are coming! time to be self-employed
and compete! compete!
but some jobs are still: primed to corporation!

could i ever see undertakers competing?
in times of a spiked demand - during a plague...
what is healthy in sport -
is not necessarily healthy in a workplace -
after all... most people detest earning money -
it's a chore - mind you: do i enjoy writing poo'etry?
am i being paid for writing it?
no... i am "volunteering"... for the love of
the art... for ****'s sake... nothing more!
nothing less!

is this still a naive poo'em: yes... sorry...
i forgot to be caustic and there's no rhyme... my bad...
but this is not a capitalism vs. communism
tirade... from the yoke of the soviet union...
i learned from my mother that...
flues weren't really that prominent...
not until the 1970s...
by then it was a common theme...
biological warfare... while the crown-virus has
yet to claim a life outside of the mandarin
genetics: in the age of propaganda journalism:
you hear a "truth" one day...
three days later you're singing along to your
own "biased" / solipstic narrative...
after a while you have to adopt the "autism"
of solipsism: the world can only bite so much
out of you... you have to turn to standards of delusion
to match to their: from the many, one...

in sport, competition is the "zeitgeist":
it's not a metaphor, it's a misnomer...
but given the " " ditto brackets - i'm tired of looking
for the: "required" word... sometimes...

by the 5th definition of competition...
it's not as direct as corporation, competition
needs to borrow from an -ology...
again, verbatim: 'rivalry between two or more
persons or groups for an object desired in common,
usually resulting in a victor and
a loser but not necessarily involving
the destruction of the latter' -

what is untrue about this is that...
the destruction of the latter is paramount...
at least these days...
am i to believe that capitalism was not,
not ever, tinged with a belief in corporation...
that it was always, somehow, only about
competition?
what was communism born from?
when did the abolishment of serfdom happen
in russia? 1861...
the abolishment of slavery happened
in england in 1865... 4 years after...
but... but!
in russia? the slaves were thought of as...
people from within russia...
in england? the slaves? en route a trade from
one foreign place to another...
wow!
all slavery: either foreign, or domestic...
and to think that communism was a "failure"...
hard to imagine... truly hard to imagine...
given that... communism was born...
4 years prior to slavery in general was abolished...
of foreign to become "nationals"...
what does english he-he-history tell us about
native slaves? four years prior to the slaves
moved from africa to the cotton candy fields...
there were slaves that were not: ***** out of africa...

reperations who's who?!
why didn't capitalism bloom in russia...
why will it never bloom - oligarchs and...
currency of modern western capitalism:
nepotism...
who is jared kushner?
mr. cushions mr. cushtie...
mr. minted in: network baron...
slavery was abolished on the international scale
in england in 1865... four years after...
internal slavery was abolished in russia... 1861...
isn't that the sort of wow you were expecting?!
so when was slavery-slavery abolished
in england?
again... if internal slavery was abolished in russia...
4 years after slavery on an international
stage was abolished...
communism was a failure because: per se...
or... was communism supposed to be...
a short-cut attempt to catch up to capitalism?
was it a failure in catching up to capitalism?
in the 2008 financial clash...
where was Poland? recession free...
again... communism was a failure per se...
but... was it a failure in terms of catching up
to capitalism?
to me... it's still catching up...
when again... we're talking... freeing people...
only 4 years prior to people who would
otherwise still be... rummaging the romances
of Kenya and seeing no albino tourists sipping
brandy on their shores...
perhaps better for the whole load of us...

i ask, again, in my naive way...
that's the difference between competition and corporation?
not much...
a football team needs to compete with other football teams,
but it needs a corporative methodology behind it...
you can sometimes spot a maverick who wants
to be the solipsist in the team and become
nothing more than the top goal-scorcer -
then again: a kevin de bruyne and the number of assists...

if there was to be a level playing field...
everyone was to be self-employed...
what fear from robots?
competition on a ford's:
each man is a cog in the assembly line...
you can't compete... were you supposed to?
i thought that the only reason sport
was fun was to be compete and corporate...
it wasn't solely about competing:
not even in tennis are you ever competing...
unless you're serving a ****-ace...
competing but also corporating:
for the spectacle: with 19shot rallies...

to reiterate: this is a really naive poo'em...
is has to be!
- again... before capitalism became this hell-scape
spiral of: fear of robotics / a.i.:
let's just see if we get enough self-employed
people on board...
oh sure: the self-employed undertaker...
the self-employed bus-driver...
i'm sure there was, what's not called:
a "healthy spirit of competition" in work related
niches of existence...

i'm an alcoholic living among workaholics...
not a pretty sight... believe me...

i'm sure that capitalism... must have began
with: a "healthy spirit of corporation"...
that one henry ford would benefit more than
all the assembly line workers: fine...
the brains is allowed the conscious efforts
to move the eyes, close them,
use the jaw... bite... do magic with the tongue...
the liver has no knowledge of alcohol...
the heart isn't exactly aware of either veins
or arteries... fine... a henry ford cigar can get
away with thinking he's not adding
a chimney to the whole affair...
or a rhine-valley load of chimneys...
the stomach doesn't know what taste is...
sure as **** the small intestine knows
what it feels like to be a woman:
should it find itself unfortunate to have
a hitchhiker tapeworm attached to it... etc. etc.

but i imagine the capitalism had a sense of
corporation before...
it worked too many psychopathic sport analogies
into itself... precursor to the fear
or a.i. robbing people of their jobs?
testing people in a self-employed job market...
again: oh sure... the self-employed undertaker...
the self-employed busdriver!
perhaps a self-employed cabbie...
a self-employed surgeon?
how would that work?

        what's that? the cult leader... would not find
a job status match... in a corporate market of ideas?
then a ******* maverick he is...
esp. with such dates as: the brian jonestown
massacre hovering over his head!

perhaps i am naive is reiterating:
work implies corporation rather than competition,
in that work implies chores...
i've seen this in my father -
he doesn't underand household chores
on the basis on corporation -
he understands them on the basis of competition...
and he's to somehow... take pleasure
in the "free bread and circus"...
when the circus is not what it used to be?
once upon a time: the circus involved
men... who were footballers...
but they also did part-time metallurgy work...
they would clock in at a certain hour...
then be let off work to play a football match...
they weren't paid: professional:
disappropriate wages...
because their "work"... was over-inflated
by the gambling syndicate dicta...

there was a utopia in Poland...
it lasted for... roughly 30 years... from 1945
through to 1975... after that the herrings
didn't want to be pickled...
the baltic sea started to boil and the fish
strarted to froth at the mouth...
it's not a nostalgia segment: i was born in 1986...
this is mythology: curating the temporal
standards of modern journalism...
history: what time ago?
50 years? elvis was abducted by aliens...
n'esst ce pas?!

slam poetry competition with fellow:
poo'em eaters...
can i jut take the armchair with Horace?
i don't feel like competing...
what am i competing for?
volume... a new YA novel?
i will not ***** language...
even if it is a language i acquired:
and it's not a tattoo native first come first served
expression...
this is not a capitalism vs. communism
affair...

all the: towel in champions of capitalism
have made it clear:
start a traditional family, start a farm...
milk some goats...
pluck some eggs... living the dream:
brown fingers and all...
                       way way out from competition
in the workplace...
so... no need to corporate...
solo does it...
                                and if i'll be needing some
milk... i'll likewise claim: an autistic
pension and enough barren land to feed
goats organic glue and toilet paper that
magically morph into... a propaganda poster...

olim truncus eram ficulnus, inutile lignum:
once i was a stump of fig,
a wood without use... this is my best Horace:
thank you, goodnight...

what is to be competed for?
rather: what it to be retained, kept, status quo
enclosed... this pride for corporation?
competition in the workplace can only go as far...
not all professions can allow competition...
some will forever retain their base:
corporation...
to compete outside the realm of sport...
sport... those with enough awareness
of the body would pursue it...
those with a bit more brain in tow...
wouldn't... the ghost limb terms:
there's nothing of note
when it comes to competing with i.q. in
mind... or corporating...
there's this ancient feat of "solipsism" and
self-bettering... rather than running
the "expected" mile...
was capitalism always this:
chicken-shack-shackled into... wishing to squeeze
out drinking water... from pig ****?

again... this is not as easy give-away
that it's a capitalism versus communism base scrutiny...
all the eastern european laid-deeds have made it into
their chandelier filled land-allotement sights of
better ****** that gynocentrism...
i don't mind...
      yes... because among the bulgarian strip-party
i'm the ottoman janissary turned
well spoken sheikh... when morocco is given...
a fictional name... and i'm the Ali
that rubs Muhammad's lamp and
averts the... most ****** schism...
oh sure... Islam would be a pure religion...
and they would be allowed to complain about
porky-pies...
but... you see... how long did it take
for a schism to emerge between the orthodox grees
and tha catholic italians?
how long did the islamic schism take
to grovel and dig trenches?
not that much...
after all... Shia... Persians... Ali Woke-oh-Haram...
and the ****'ite... the ***** muslims...
the Saudi bin-Ladens...
well... that schism... didn't take that long...
some whisper about a schism in the monotheism
of the hebrews...
ha ha! i write ha ha... but even i have to laugh
out loud... a monotheism an inbreeding
of something more than genes...
fix the idea... and continue!

by now even i know that christianity has reached
a status of polytheism...
it's the same jesus... sure sure...
via no other than the orthodox,
the catholic, the protestant (calvinist, lutheran)
standards... or the baptists... or the jay-***-***-V-and-G
standards...
next thing you know: the vegans are
the gnostic monks!
because it has to be a joke at this point...
if christianity is a monotheism...
i'm mother theresa and that albanian
that stole george w. bush' mickey mouse's watch
on a state visit...
so to complete the holy trinity...
i'll be... alastair campbell... always for the giggles...

an alcoholic among workaholics...
who always had the satan's postbox concerning
the niqab... the same ones who were to be always
quoted: the beast from the east...
jesus is coming! look busy!

i mean... no need to look busy...
when the high a tide is making a comeback...
would you believe it?
if you saw the words... united kingdom...
england, scotland, wales... ireland...
that this was not moldova?
this is a language these are letters so arranged...
by an island-dwelling folk?
if you're the first, driver...
shotgun! who are we smuggling in the passenger
seats behind us?

imagine my surprise at the rereading,
with the typo: a missing (s) in letter()
and a missing (d) in arrange(d)...
i call them... the lost key of solomon...
or my own personal, hybrid,
hard-on...
oh god kept me with a phallus...
while giving all the angels a proper chopper
of the ol' wood... **** to stump...
i'm the one that wasn't circumcised!

and all i now have to sing about... is...
a forest of pines! a forest of pines!
pines pines pines! yippy caye!
Julian Sep 2020
I famigerate without taciturn timidity the straits of a straightened jury-rig of nesiote narrowbacks harping the accordion zest and zeal of the plenilune consuetude of a scrivello infamy sprung into the rows of rip-tide acclaim hamstrung by the decline in fastidious upkeep of the timberlask vesicles that avoid the phenakism of prismatic reformation fundamental to transmogrified simpers of dismal saturnine darkness encroaching on the parallax of realms within the dominion of the Almighty for the omniety of the usucaption of the fruitful prune in the priggish afterglow of a noontide eclipse bereaved of whispering retreat in the hallowed wasms of stiltanimity becoming an entreaty to ecumenical barbs of propriety selected without intimacy to folksy bibliopolists but rugged in sterling tribute to the true vine of the appointed ways of sacerdotal triage among a roughshod vanity of a derelict world marveling at otiose rejoinder rather than true spasms of tragedy flickering in the recessive alleles of a careworn culture. The travesty of Beirut is the bromide of current leapfrogs of sentinel lust and malapert destruction forming an ironclad camaraderie with chocolate-box langlauf disasters wed uxoriously to the penury of the brackish version of the catadromous bailiwick of despotic nescience pregnant with sophrosyne redemption at the cusp of a plaid perfunctory quip of quisling intimations of the sketchy provenance of humdingers of comestion lurking in the plodding prowl of a ribald wiseacre of a beckoned billow of trinkochre welded into a conscientious blarney that awaits the popinjays that sculpt brittle redshort fictions into awakened carapaces of a limacine reduction of impoverished fulmination into the neatly sworn footprints of a geotaxis shuddering with magnetism only in spectacle without the overhailing zeal of vintners who specialize in curtailed wine drawn from Caiaphas and soaked with the muddy turgid Siloam as avenues toward the repentance of asunder becoming marginalized as a whimper of taciturn choleric war receding not even into an audible delope as the masterful chryselephantine assault of cryptic auditions in the theater of effete refuge sink into the pelagic oblivion of a remarkable blister festering into inconsequence as the rebarbative emoluments to tattered travesty hearken a battle-cry yet emanated in the reprehensible bulwark of the gerendum of a poised plastered humility aggrieved with such friction turgid on rollicking magpiety that even the larceny of brutish renegades of triumph sink beneath the brevity of accident rather than the fortitude of globalized turpitude weakened by the improper demarche of fuliginous homeless depredation of innocent bystanders flocking to the harvest of war found in insight rather than the perfunctory bromidrosis of the macroscian enmity of hidden maleficence spawning a credenda that is spayed on arrival in the faineant zoolatry of a spelunkers’ madcap dash to flex the filigrees of turmoil in resentment of the amicable truces of a God who never tempts and a lurking lie that never itches for trigger-happy hapless rebukes because the skittish skirmish of futilitarian repose is a scoundrel of the profligacy of errant weakness blinkered by the humdrum din of deafening semaphores of provocative thornbush on the threshing floor of cowardly imposture president of all affairs of spirit and all renegades of caitiff megalography of forgotten oblivion despite the curglaff of vindictive and never vindicated assaults on the integrity of the birthright of Lebanon to wager a presumptive gamble of trifling retribution for the alacrity of suspicions eloping with forbidden mistresses in the humdingers of flackey rather than the troudasque harbinger of a lunacy impugned by a restive triumphant fallow time seasonable for a litany of pretenses demassified for a liturgy of seances with eldritch commiseration in the saw-toothed serration of selachostomous bravado wielded by likely or unlikely culprits of ravenous ruin shepherded by the guilty cardinal sins of the complicity of explosive vanity marauding on the ruins of a fortress debased by pettifoggery of internal excuse rather than the wrath of provocative ire in the irksome cauterized wounds of the inured to deliver spectacular reticence despite such grievous diacope. Evil gilderoys of maleficence carve the sapwood of the periphery to aimless subversions miscarried by the modern atrocity of glamour memorialized as a sound-byte underminnow of a roaring rhombos rip tide as stocks wavy at the curvature of edgy demarche despoil the denuded wasteland of cultural despondency a wagtail to the impudence of famigerated affronts that deserve a sterling recompense wielded by the onerous and operose burdens of a prone decubitus of aboriginal bread seeded from Heavenly realms dissipating into the roars of blinded conflagration too meek to even exist on the ramshackle hillside of a barnstorm of aggression powerless to encapsulate the nexility of unspoken allegiance to destruction rather than the halidom of consecrated marriages balking at the caulked provisions of a slugabed monolith of craven capers on the recesses of abeyance in the interregnum of a time where famous people communicate with me. How can such a charismatic bravado of lurking presidency stoop to the denizens of usufruct in licentious latitudes on the outskirts of consideration even pretend anymore that the vacuum of effluvium (Gal 6:7) can be mocked and milked into the row of centuries blistering through the calenture of apprisal and heaved awakening as the zephyrs of the Occident meet temporal juncture with the coenesthesia of a hibernating trumpery formed by the turnverein of listless lethargy billowing through fumiducts of siphoned lavaderos of hypogeiody that the underground spasms of cacophony could marvel at the historic emergence of a magnate with the most powerful magnetism of God shepherding the true flock John 10:27 because he is willing to be the good shepherd and potentially die for his sheep John 10:11. Remember, whenever you hear a Queer Studies Radical Feminist bloviate on emasculated sardanapalian posture John 8:44 and even though personified as a masculine titan of bulwarks of immense otiose wilted inkburch shielding the world from true meaning, the maskirovka of the Devil is present in the dark trespasses of personal abandon among the wilderness of many marsupial jackals of martles wagtails to an invictive proclamation of invulnerable sappy sopanaceous filibusters against hefty sinew forged the bony fragments of the charnels lost to brief epitaphs never mourned in threnodies worthy of remembrance that the departed died with us and live again through us whether in Heaven as participant or on Earth as an acting battalion of the skullduggery of the mystique of shimmers of God acting on Man’s behalf 1 Col 1:15-16. That the firstborn of all creation obtains supremacy through the finalisms that I seek as the captain of trailblazing untrammeled roads we are reminded of the narrow and wide gates expanded by the explosion of thought that trespasses into the hidebound ratchet of a reasonable bleat becoming a harsh outcry of justice for Lebanon that they feel so powerless in implosion what could aggrieve potentate civilizations to the precipice of global maleficence in destruction. Swarming for alveolate hominid hominism as an outgrowth of alienation by design polarized spectral dangles at jaundice flamestun by the ordeal of oppositive barnacles to the chryselephantine habituation of a masked menace of Procrustean authority to muzzle the free license of armamentariums of a latent man keen to the kenspeckel visibilia that we might have punctuation in the poised primiparas of a hearkened unprecedented in modern history that the traipse of lapse is no longer the tenure of mindless calculation of authoritarian gabble sentries of a mobilized fleet of embodied human ignorance but a foisted sprite of whangams of apothegm that deserve in their gnomic respite from the phenakisms of a philogeant kumbaya assertive in its treony of radical compassion for those who dwell in tentpoles of revelry bound not to the covenant that sent us into light and sparkling in hidden obsolescence that the fulgurant words of Mount Horeb (Sinai) are both immaculate and without trace of sin because Acts 17:30 declares a powerful truth lost to the twinges of time that issued peremptory governance of my theology but through remission I admit the grievances of septiferous blockades of ponderous plodding nescience haunting the spectral aubades of paeans to a high-flown sun darting through galactic space apace of the velivolant sails of divine wind that come in the spree of recompense authored by the vines to which all roots belong rhizogenic and immutable because the demarches of time forget the marches against the cauterized grime of new-world suspicions of aleatory fickle gubernatorial proclamations that issue reverb more than sprinkle flanged atrocity in the sight of the holy ramparts of an active double-edged God who reminds us of our many witnesses but provides not a single latchkey of escapism resident to many hapless homes of the drunken sing-song rhapsody nullifying the psychotaxis of the motatory miserly Draconian charades of Leviathan grasping the tridents of warp-speed revisionism in a benighted world overrun by mandarist fictions that fumigate a pasteurized control of cultural malcontent in situations of dearth infested by the concentration camps of China that remain unheralded in brumal and brutish indoctrination spared from worldwide outrage by the tribunes that are complicit more in malfeasance than they are celebrated for the herald of heinous bletcherous crimes of abecedarian abligurition anointed in waste rather than refined like unquenched slakes of eternal water so that no man can thirst hungry for the daily bread without returning to the providence of God awakened. Recalcitrant by the impudent quislings of repugnasket flarmeys of advenient flummoxed besieged clairvoyance I bask and beaze on the light that never fades because of the brackish whisk of a barnstorm of allegiance that is contumely to a bromide society listless in inferiority of intellect to my former streaks beyond jejune reiteration of the Jehu mentality against the canine fate of Jezebel and her faltered ministry of ewnastique waged as battalion gore of a trifling musket of an aboriginal swim through the oceanic gaze of peerless eternity squirming because of flagging resolution among the spandrels of incommunicable largesse lolloped extravagantly not just for the spoils of hyped pedigree but also a chamade to Heaven to enlist the purblind vestiges of a crambazzled Earth rejuvenated in adolescent esprit rather than callow eclat against the outrecuidance of whimpered miserly conscientiousness that exists in a shorter frame of reference than the provident dashes through a furlough of time and ancestry to cobble together a lapidary bristling excoriation of the tumescent squabbles of mystique brave enough to rarefy the humid pasteurization of a mannequin kenspeckel still-frame jilt of jostled infamy brusque in its curt envies borne of still-born promenades of a whasper between the youthful ligony and the intrepid soul of a collective warrior debased by the adscititious participant to elegant effronteries of the newfangled intellectual vogue that is the grombang of the tralleyripped hamshackle of ostentation meeting mirrored paralysis in sheepish ewnastique creations meddlesome in their ironic frizz of recursion as I lounge on the habits of creation by intelligent lurches of design that appointed the demarcations of all creatures and the mysterious bridge between the missing links that remain elusive to the flombricks of the misery of epigenetic rhizogenic imparlance of desuetude cringing at foresight littered with the disaster of ravished hindsight blushing at the limpid degeneration of the vapid varnish of benighted ligony rather than heroic strides of stoic-epicurean compromise in the apolaustic pursuit of the one eternal God present in rebellion but never the temptress of mendacity and mendaciloquence because the tug I have on speed is ratifying a cauterized casualty in the spumid betrothed wicked snuffs of extinguished furor for a time beyond barnstormed racloir rugged origination and faulty phenogenesis that escorts mythos into actionable litanies of the awakened breed scoffing at the inkburch of “Electrolytes”-wernaggle that besets the queer fascinations of a warped generation. The pytherian swank of artrench embodied in the recocted rendevation of hypetrophy in hubris swaddled by the reductive dranger polluting the realm of compliant complicant complaints of the ashowel of albatross astroud in the hibernaculum of langlauf rather than the ultramontane fiduciary tether to the estrockentch rather than the laureates of plevisable courage found in truest shades of vinsky not the subhastation of a gaslighted galvanization of purebred classy swivels of opportunism nor the ravenous incubus appetite for usufruct in subversion belongs to the behest of an insular nesiote flexing the flux of subversion as the candid posies of saccharine immodesty become relegated figments of the everlasting age of promised propriety rather than rigid stultimathy of hackencrude virtues of virtuosos that marvel at troudasque wonders occluded by the girlcott of Team Biden and his militarized soldiers of desiccation of trumpery and the faucets unbounded by swanky concealed epithets of regaled rentgourge by a hapless objection of the runic destruction of apothecary leniency becoming of the betokened emblazonry of scrimshank in every perfuncturation but embodiment of character shouldered by every chasm of power erected in demolition of the warped egintoch radicalism of the submerged wernaggles of the hopeless minority swimming with autodimplage few have to bear but the truest flock of God heeds my voice and has the sapience to spare themselves of contumely and invective to hearsay of invictive triumph beyond radioglare swirk to renege the musical providence of the chamades to the asterongue I often take for granted by immunifacient degrees of the foretold encroaching upon the crux of a pivotal and pivoted destiny not distant from cordial providence. The sweedle of epigones for the risctender of obligation to subvert the coryphaeus with the rigmarole of gentincture borrowed from the Gates’ formulaic effleck of perverse warbles of collectivized contrition for abetted cultural pederasty limpid in its achieved objective of the crudenzy borrowed from a lacking impediment to arentrum belonging to the knowledgeable happenstance of the glorified dengonin is a denostram that forestalls the agelasts behind porsters of culture rather than legitimate mainlined contamination of wellsprings of fliction of paranoiac enthusiasm might swim in kinkativy blinkered blind piebald girouettism but never dauntless in sematic entrenchment of robust dilettantism as the swaddled corrugation of time into centripetal ****** against centrifugal modernism that alienates propriety while estranging by vacuous vacuums the outspoken progeny of the surviving age beyond the Jay and Silent Bob travesty that manifests as a glower of menacing Bushian invention to tarnish with ****** mythos the drapes of a defenestrated realism of the flinkers of sheepish indignation against many drakstings of intonorous sclerotic mandibles of crackjaw chockablock annihilation of core precepts and institutions indelible from the face of a quixotic entreaty of a ragged intrusion of ageotropic monoideism above the secular-clerical fidelity of honest witness borne of triumph and tribulation festooning the nativist hyperbole into a useless effigy of mountebank imposture silly in precision and purblind to gallantry. Yet I must kisswonk rather than truckle under such ponderous pretense because of a sertivine certainty in the thickets of prudence rather than the tomfoolery of humgruffin impudence scaffolds me to a post-modern ****** that shanks through prisons of guilt and burrows an interrogation of reality supreme over all complaint that the virtuosity of the Gifted (the elect flock that comprehends my volcanic diatribes against mandarism and stomachs them without sardonic pastorauling insults of passerby vicissitude) will spare many nations of awakened perjury against human instinct in the fitness of nations to denigrate the populist squalor of lurid and livid ewnastique wernaggles of the listless buttress against my formal modesty encouraged in all affairs even in aggrieved humility belonging to intimidation rather than spawned jostles through the rumpus of shunamitism that might rankle a later age.  Yentrified morality is a personal flapdoon against the promiscuous pederasty of freewheeling ophelimity and the lurking narquiddity of the traindeque of donnist hedonism to hijack my psychedelic tolerance into an unwarranted and inadvisable sanction into the netherworld of the frinterans of cultural modality that curdact religion into a cosmetic cosmogony rather than a soldiered infamy becoming a beacon on a towering hill growing in solidarity with the pleonasm of existence itself which surpasses crude formulas that already abide by the riches of decorum too much to be admired as trigger-happy fools run the asylum of domesticated irony and the librettos to downfall rather than the wassails of “The Man” becoming more masculine in featured charisma rather than defiled against Leviticus among others who preach belonging to nuclear creed without fission but for true rapprochement to the fusion of the treony with legitimate gripes of unsung complaint among the masculine minority. The traindeque of a baseline complaint aggrieved by the kilmarge carapace of stiltanimity for the hackencrude resentment of the inkburch of illiteracy is a profligate degeneracy lurid in hyped enmity that the envied entreaty becomes the despotic shadow masquerading in shadows blossoming into the full wisdom of the mature sophrosyne heart eager to pour out blessings upon a conservation of recycled epitaphs becoming hearsay in a rebarbative convolution of redacted rigmarole incendiary to whittled henpecks of political engineering but never vapid in their flagging insistence upon an ecumenical toleration of the brooks of modernity and compromise upon which much felicity is aggrandized and permuted against the spoilsport frinterans who encage a dodgy moralism in wilted etiolated jaunty pedigree that espouses the maudlin grievous and ghastly ghouls and sprites that haunt the fictional hobgoblins of the Potemkin Village that finds usury convenient and perjury even more facile for the glib facetious engineers of modalities of hatred unsung by the ribald witwanton “I got a Solution...You’re a ****…South Carolina What’s Up” crowd that never marvels at ingenuity or rarely attempts it in the summit of the climacteric jaundice of hidebound whemmles of ridicule sparring against spartan flagitious wiseacres of genocide of ideation for the revelry of armed missives denatured by raw promotion of the questionable ethics of a flavork of needed slakes of unquenchable desire swarming us with daily temptresses not of wayward women but the disarmed pretense of a lapidary rejoinder to a long expatiation or harangue against hackencrude curdles of rowboat injustice masquerading as sentinel savory destruction of the towering edifice of proclamation. There is great menace in the casuistry of sophist philogeant philocubists dicey with destiny for mincemeat puppetry against sciamachy for the gallionic rise of gammadions in the craven lore of baseline pasquinade rallied to the insuperable causes of tribal shibboleth anointed by secular totemisms of fracture and fricative hisses of lineage that amount to pleonasms of brassage rather than mystagogical mystique of the prestige of human fraternity that shatters paradigms of creed and invites an honest vestige of Noble Savages to roam the Earth yet again unencumbered by lugubrious welters of misnomer and malapropism wagered by artifices of guileless supremacy that is cursory prima facie neglect of even the sororal duties not of sophomoric glib facetious cowardice of backbited backlash of venom militarized for the desuetude of entertained visagists sculpting *****-nilly their version or verdict of decisive apartheid when we should all rally behind the united frontier of the chosen flock in the chosen generation to truckle beneath the pews not of ignorance aggravated by the polluted kilmarge egintoch puritan barbs against publicity choices I now regret (as an emolument to an incredibly euphoric track with a poor miserly message to the enchanted flock inoculated from such diversions) because alighted upon the quenched thirst of salvation I will be judged more harshly as a teacher James 3:1 than the rest of my flock but gifted with the gratuitous salvation carved from the chiselers of ribald infamy capering around with dacoitage and ladronism of the bomans of unsuspecting quixotic caprice I must reckon with the burden of ghoulish shadows on the spectral imprint of my eternal soul relishing in vicarious splendor yet bereaved of quintessential love 1 Cor 13:4 that is necessary for the nuclear conclamation of vibrant hues of resplendent and refulgent providence necessary not from a dynastic perspective but from an aimed providence that alerts dynamism rather than chides with mimes of useless schadenfreude carved from the prestidigitation of the wicked condemned in Galatians 6:7 for the mockers of sanctanimity accorded upon me as gratuity that no man can boast my elite ears and my astute wonderworks of imagination qualified me for prophecy and among the most mesmerizing prophecies registered to fulfillment that the world has ever yet witnessed because the watershed isn’t a bridgewater for the chavish of ignoramus hatred congealed into thrombosis but the narrowed gate enlarges to encompass the swath of man amenable to the flocks that escort me into permanence rather than regale the tridents of a hedonism that elected me clairvoyant at a cost of immaculate splendor registered to the holy clergy of the Sacred Catholic Church and the broader Ecumenical Endeavor that tries to be a seamstress and bridge elemental divides inherent to divided approaches to liturgy which flex their strengths in times of robust fortitude rather than become a subhastation to the vestiges of the pilgrimage to false tabernacles erected by people cozened into charlatan endeavors by the pernicious and persnickety whiplash of Least Common Denominator subversion of widely heralded sentience and sapience enriching the lot of human ambition rather than stoking useless conflagrations of refracturism accorded to the swallock of primposition of the hackneyed hackencrude that swivels with the odious ornery pretense of overtures not to apertures and lychgates of the true abiding Heaven felt on Earth by many Christians whether in sobriety or not without the evil maleficence of a misguided donnism of narquiddity for the grambazzles of aged recklessness aborning on vacant responsibility that is rickety in its magnanimity of absolution because of the ulterior chase for bottom-line top-dollar oligochrome foisted by the cartels that blind true spiritual insight from ever reaching the magnitude of ambition required to shape mountains of revolution among the tertiary squabbles of a conversant Earth open to the troudasque gallop into yield and cloveryield for repcrevel reforms the paludism of the swamp remains skittish about conforming to because objectivism is a renegade of perspicuous light blinkering in hubris and gourmandizing the hinderbaggle of cosmetic pollutions aggravated by the plevisable articles of envy and TLDR politics to “Electrolyte” logic that is a sad recursive wernaggle of the useless buffoonery of humgruffins of tatterdemalion spate rollicking in the magpiety of a timid consentient faltering myth of unanimity among the beleaguered rainbows of many lugubrious tears showering bickering blasphemy upon the mockery of God for the pleasantry of self-aware sheepish resignation that professes only that any form of meritocracy is existentially unfounded only because the beehive elected its progeny the scepter of the ironclad kingdom that wages war against idolatry and serenades heaven with luxury simultaneously. We are all shepherds of providence and there is power enough in collective prayer that we don’t fiddle around with bodewash in mistaken identity but riddle the persnickety blemish of the fastidious critiques of biting sarcasm as a tantamount blasphemy and a criminal repartee of sardonic cloys of inanity foisted above truth. The peevish breedbates who scour my evidentiary pillar of chiseled vertebrae of unbroken bones of solidarity with oikonisus will be sorely disappointed in their truthful audits of my true perception because in every single case it exonerates me from the pulpit of menacing idiots who scrawl random gabble in attempts to sound smart while reeking of iniquity wrought by the gavels of predevoted inferiority of complexion and attitude that gravitates them to an insensate benumbed transmogrified bailiwick of an appalling atrocity of mythomaniacal myths spurned by consensus among those who prize my grandeur above the superstitions of the illiteracy of the rancid rankle of otiose stupidity writhing its own sheepish envy of arbitrary dislike motivated by feminist aggressors waging warfare on turf I already conquered by swaying the intelligentsia to beckon my cause rather than pillory me on a false scaffold of frinteran abuses of the nyejays of bernacle that junediggle in the taradiddle of the nanciful excoriation of my leaden corpse weighed down by the witchcraft of connivance trayning its own delicate myths while avoiding scrutiny for appalling contumely that deserves an audience more suited for fracklings of treony belonging to the trinkochre of the rising alienation and suicides among perverted gay indoctrination that is a scourge on the planet because it willfully denies with its portentous hibbles the regaled wisdom of the culminated age against renegades of apostasy and for the behemoths of true monumental change that sizzles in savory circles among the vanguard only to alarm the Status Quo hijack of my entire endeavors as a covert crusade to use wrecking-ball fashion tactics to cosmetically incisively and insidiously perform a harprick of surgery upon a blameless countenance only for being a thorn to wragatek wragapole slavery which wages war against universal salvation because it gripes with inkburch and circular pleonasms about the most obvious glaring lies and feasts upon the serrated edge of the capers of hatred that frolic in meadows too skittish to enter the barbarian fortress of my forested residence robust in fortitude and glowering with a menacing contempt for runaround psychobabble that obganiates the obelisk of the moribund crusade to make normative ethics effeminate and to enthrone inviolable women’s speech as supreme to any male objections like the Cristiano Ronaldo accuser that came forth 8 months after #MeToo one of the most dishonest campaigns in modern history enthroned by Hollywood elites in gammerstang insurrection against pay-gap ethics done manipulatively with the sapwood of mendaciloquence like Blasey Ford whose physiognomy reeked of maudlin pretense that was so ornery in how obvious of a maleficence the intrepid Abortion Agenda has over the minds of selfish women who prefer ecbolic second-term abortions to the servile gripes of primiparas building new life rather than tearing down the scaffolds of new generations. Hominism deserves its rise because-in increasing numbers-men are derelicted by society and coerced into vapid tallespin enslavement that ridicules itself with the perjury of soul to the soulless vanity of recursive cycles of benumbed narquiddity found in “****** Hero” among other atrocities littering the human fascination with the hinderbaggle of our polluted age verging on totemic blistering hegemony of a few rotten apples corrupting the vagrant ingenuity of the forgotten champion who ushered in a new era of candor in the attempted interregnum of the United States government because I Am Hollywood got the name correct considering how many memorials there are to me in the movie industry. The junediggles of sc-ha-den-freud-e which is as deliberate of a German pun as JUDEn JuDEN which shows the German language is as farsighted as you can get and why many of my neologisms have a German tinge to them. German is an elegant language with botched syntax but a peerless repertoire of vocabulary and even though I love French, the Germans are smart because their language is smart not just because of petty arguments of pedigree which are specious at best. Being dontolesque with  the zenkidu of rengall nauclatic mythos is an artful degree which accords nominal prestige to licentiates while excorifying the obvious metaphors of sunblind logic that scours the scorched Earth of internet diatribes of sophistry and dethrones the Marcie Biancos of the world “Heterosexuality is officially OVER...K Bye” with her 145 IQ and a Stanford Degree in Queer Studies (A professed atheist by her own Twitter admission) with the warped logic to equate a heterosexual relationship for a woman as ******* to patriarchy. For someone that well-studied in literature she sure is a dumb-*** and I will demolish the syntagma of those that root against me for Status Quo preservation in the official interregnum of Saturdays during the Trump Presidency. We need an official referendum on the ideas of termagant illogical anti-egalitarian poison that derives from a deracinated worldview that doesn’t contextualize how powerful language is at shaping thought because if the entire world were Anglophonic every single country on Earth virtually would see immediate dividends in terms of intellectual creativity and limber with concepts and percepts because it is no accident the most successful empire in History the United Kingdom, was favored because of its shibboleths of Shakespearean creativity draped with flairs of the irreverent while gilded by God to be a majestic commonwealth. England and France monopolized a huge majority of history by no accident because although English might be a slightly keener language the French culture of salons of freewheeling intellectual enlightenment gilded the 17th and 18th centuries into absolution despite the Panglossian epithets of Voltaire who was ironically dissuaded from religion because of the All Saints Day 1755 Lisbon Earthquake and Tsunami. We need to be vigilant against encroachments of perceived shibboleths and more keen on an affirmative meritocracy that favors the poor and blesses the meek in their poverty and inspire ambition among them to join the coteries of refinement in thought sometimes harder to achieve with crackjaw lollops in pleonasmic languages that fail to articulate with nexility or forceful wit the true abstractions that govern the pataphysics of the unknown. Language is so decisive over human thought that it is incumbent upon every language to refine its vocabulary to trayne compendious verbiage and trim the hedges of global reform to invite the curiosity of the age to favor all creeds and languages of Abraham and the diverse progeny of a variegated panoply of majestic feats common to all parlance and capacity beyond just the Anglophonic snare because the world needs not a chicanery of blustering churlish buffoonery but an Almighty respect for the consanguinity of all to God’s blessed creation that he inseminated by his deliberate hands to enrich the world with diversity rather than cleave the world with piecemeal skeumorphs of radical propaganda that opposes the modern and post-modern egalitarian streak. One wrong must be corrected, however, the underrepresentation of Hispanics in the media and in film because this grave error is much more pervasive than the ******* LGBT inclusion narrative because these days the lollygags of fashionista odalisques with Obelisks to Baal get more say over the common decorum than the marginalized bronteum of the  rich and vibrant Latino culture which is squelched by the poverty of media and Hollywood representation. Synectics showcases how a henpecked aim at the synaesthesis of culture congregated around our Almighty Father blessed among the nations who adhere to the progeny of Abraham can be more blessed when working together rather than tribal with nepotism and aristocratic in sustained affronts to the elevation of affirmative meritocracy to the forefront of discussion rather than the froward backlash of benumbed narquiddity because the synallagamatic nature of complexity needs to be devolved with industrious ambition to all cultures and the savory flair of the vogue needs not merely a wednongue fascination with an eventual terminus of crudenzy but a sustained intellectual reformation on all fronts to standardize the English language through Hollywood and the Music Industry so that the dragnets of appeal etch a permanent trace into the engraved souls of the true flock John 10:27 are consecrated in divine purpose to reverse the Babylonian Diaspora of confused and conflated purpose that stunts the raltention of humane course and the proper pataphysical syncrisis of an evolved mundane temperament that transcends the circular traps of circumlocution common to the milquetoast industrial titans who winsomely charm with toady gestures the elitism of a moribund philosophy of intellectual thought delegation to elevate the common rhetoric to reach new pinnacles in both tribune and political gamesmanship because higher standards are required even when they surpass some common understanding so that every ambition becomes a conclave for the goal of human unity solidified by the truth of the kerygma and proclaimed to all creation as the culminated synclastic reformation of the idea of indulgence and the propriety of regaled moderation that appeases the common decorum with a shared vested interest in Latin America especially which is besieged by the cultural tenets of obrogated specialization and denigrated by the common myths of warped phenogenesis which should be debunked as a wasm of hypocrisy limited because its callous tentacles lack the charismatic fulgurant equipment of future generations to bear the operose burdens of a quintessential time of harmony united by the hymns for God by God to appease the sentries in Heaven and the celestial realms that exist for our merriment more than our detriment. The sprauncy have the  frikmag to recognize the spuria of apocryphal heresies that encourage kinship above matriotism and shared fortitude for intellectual valor rather than “*** talk TLDR” hashtags abounding on the turf of the insensate wernaggle of clueless charlatans wiggling through life not because they were borne into slavery but because they choose to be Helicopter Parents of “Baby Shark” rather than token mantelpieces of enlivened culture shimmering with radiation of Gods glory as cemented in Colossians 1:15-16 because the firstborn of all creation lives in some form in the ligature of Christ 1 Cor 12:12 because there are so many talents that exist in our variegated world that the mastery of expertise in dominions of conversant fluency will abet the variegated crops of a draped humanity corrugated on its own ironies for the delicate sizzle of beatific felicity multiplying itself in centupled design over centuries to overcome hinderbaggle while realizing the fictions of some drawflark. The strigine world concedes to this upstart rooster maybe considered a parvenu of dearth but luxuriant in riches boundless to all that draw near to the kerygma of Christ and feast on his daily bread found throughout liturgy because we should listen to people like Cardinal Timothy Dolan who is exceptionally astute (perhaps an understatement) to guide us on a regenerative rather than degenerative pathway towards universal attempts at salvation that broach a new decorum bridged by aliens to select chosen emissaries to bridle the fissions of repartee reserved for the forlorn that balk at ambition rather than relish a new era of seditious determination against the determinist fallacy and for the mental health of those coping with autodimplage and sheepish regrets and persnickety articles of remorse because all the world deserves our consolation and desperate attention rather than the trumpery of the circus masquerade of marauding agitprop which congeals into thrombosis of toxicity as the vast majority of Democrats refuse to even hear Trump speak when he is discussing discursive solutions to enigmatic quagmires,for, if more people listened to Trump they would be disabused by the specious claims of his misogyny and white allegiances because his candor is brilliant and despite the prominent advocacy of Biden who has considerable prestige in my memory, we deserve a bipartisan syncretism that unites the world and unifies the country away from the swerve of salacious mythos and towards a rambunctious magpiety of solidarity against the secular humanism of a defunct piety to Marxist feminism which is a crudenzy among the awakened men around the world increasingly alienated by the hackencrude of wednongue illiteracy even trumpeted by the vanguard as panacea when it is a comestible form of poison. We need visionary unity where there was once toxic divisive balkanization of exclaves of limited foresight clashing with new wave awakening to the persecution of illumination itself for not a rigid hierarchy but a flexible structure of inclusion that adjusts to cultural expectancy and modifies the traindeque that strands many in institutionalized poverty especially in Latin America and India and obviously Africa too. The stegophilists of language should herald the aubade of the chavish of redintegration over the squawk of din of squabbles of internecine redacted revisionism beleaguering our lyceums with toxic agitprop even at the highest institutions of learning who balk often at the recycled auditorium of useful thought because their venal tilt is complicit in squelching freedom of thought and our schools should open early so that zig-zag-zoom politics around feldtrounds who are eagerly outnumbered by the patrons who police thought become agentic not with outspoken treacheries but inseminations of intimation to hint at the spectral mystagogical reality we are all members of despite hurdles that beset the hemiteries of odalisques who seek inertia rather than mobilization. The ribald underminnow of transparency is a carcinogen of the rampant siege of Status Quo coarse hypocrisy for tentative flings with cadged cloyed saturnine professions of the landmines of atrocious miscarriage as I soldier on in the causes of the poor and the forlorn to become enriched by the glory that God delivers with munificence so that all might be enriched by the emanations of the true vine and in distaste of error I rebuke the armada of belittled armamentariums of the cantonment of deep-state breedbates boiling over potboiler frikmag that exists as a transcendent obscurantism flowering in decisive times to warp the contextual footprint of a life served in the service of all the oppressed people as a kind of Moses figure raised by the elite and fighting for the criminally oppressed and the ****** of mediagenic hyperbole is dissatisfied by my glowering spectacles because they dismount from the equipoise of the righteous gallop towards ecumenical solidarity at untimely punctuations of juncture superseding the flictions of frikmag dethroning my righteous valor and provident sanctanimity to prowl like predatory wolves the fathers of the casuistry of mendaciloquence to accentuate the stridor of inopportune squalor of the selachostomous regimes of teetotaler totalitarian freebooters who prevent bootstraps from manufacture as they gradgrind the world into ergonomic insufficiency while I provide a Kamacho-like galvanization to the broader world that favors the consanguinity of all animate sentience to the aboriginal vine of the universe that plays with the toyed cadge of oppositive support but lends credence to a more evolved view than the crudity of encapsulated travesties inserted with jaundice against the lyceum of freedom of thought and the celerity of headless horseman galloping in partial interregnum to crown the strobic stridor of the stiver of the steven of contarianism engineered for walloped ringleaders of the renegades of heresiarch sedition in their odalisque oaths to Pagan dieties carved from the sapwood of gullible Illuminati naivety that professes allegiance to the worst whangam ever invented Baphomet and his faked cronies of ewnastique free-for-all diminutive crags in the renown of dawning light becoming cagey struthious structuralism embedded in sclerotic wasms of the wanhope of a nullified message becoming a sacred creed to the attentive while the lilt of the otiose drawl in serpentine convolution a ribald pleonasm of circular circumlocution that provides locomotive linearity rather than leapfrogged slogmarches into the province of the territorial alignment of kinship against the partisan hollertrap and the stigmatophilia of obsessive persnickety popinjay beadledom the last stronghold of the rickety resistence to this Saturday interregnum which presides over the better part of the intelligentsia if not the common pedestrian parlance because hortatory weights cannot be described in any other way than metagnostic flickers of Yellow Submarine vandalism of a pristine living animation of the humane spirit that prizes the plight of the poor and the blarney and blench of unjust opprobrium faced by the institutionalized bailiwick of flictions of gammadion gallionic posture when in fact they register as seismic entities engraved upon my Christian conscience that strictly welcomes the emigrants to truth from whatever consecrated virtue they originate from because all are capable of the same light and the same compassion of a beatified humanity rather than the relish of deep-state castophrenia which belies its own ribald gay mockery on live TV as not a single twinge of ****** attraction overtakes me in matriotic sardanapalian effrontery of a hollow but sadly hallowed vainglory of the hierodules that bury the coffers of patriotism in a sad LGBTQ graveyard of landmines that demonstrate a complete disregard of the nuclear family and should be decried as an outcry against redefined Christianity bolted to unshakable irrefragable beliefs in the constitution of man and women wed together in one monogamous flesh with the occasional cuddle of close tithes to the ******* of friendship as the slavery of sin in Leviticus 20:13 falls to the wayside because this patriotic lewdness is a vapid fatuous derangement that is a new low for the United States attempt to inoculate China from religious accord with the broader world and should be seen as a Chinese maskirovka worthy of the heaviest disdain and I will disavow America if it continues to bandy the tripwires of Chinese boondoggles under the American banner and pretend its pretense isn’t lagging under its own bletcherous abecedarian elementary fallacy of psychobabble oblivion of dark saturnine brusque termagants of tatterdemalion cloaks of the selfsame illusion of a desperation of China to wreck the United States economy and inseminate Florida, Arizona and Texas especially with the Coronavirus to swing the election in Biden’s favor with or without US Complicity to expedite the course of a virus which sees no resurgence in any other civilized country in the world while the heroic Russians, Germans, Israelis, French, British and true American Christians banish the barristers of bad taste as an acerbic poison on the wellsprings of a flagitious flag I would kneel for in the knells of disgrace if the pompous and completely inoculated missives of Buttigieg ******* continue to roam shepherded by deep state elitism to wreck the opportune moment of religious revival for petty reasons of chryselephantine gambit and gimcrack for institutionalized poverty which my ambition is to heal completely by sacerdotal deeds and consecrated prayers in the Lord whose peace surpasses the temporal despair of senectitude and comforts the grievances of the aggrieved because Galatians 6:7 is no more true than the fatuous display of muscular idiots waving American flags for turpitude rather than flogging very perverse Gay men in the streets which might be a more fitting outcome even though I must remove the plank in my own eyes first to see the irony of the detested. The doytin is no longer misguided by the nanciful derision of the vociferous clangor of the venal Gates mafia militia wrecking ball vaccination Bezos crew in Medina which is a mettle I can’t match when you own every citizen in the world in a few square miles of nesiote territory the denizens of conquest besieging religious sanctity with profane outbursts of corruptible linchpins on the public lynch of the strepsis of periblebsis that vitiates commonwealths of supreme sputtering regimented clairvoyant superlative alabaster wealth of the isangelous protectorate of the supreme God that supervises his careworn flock into the storge against the scourge of prosodemic stigma stained in bleeding heart liberal bathed tears of pseudoautochiria of Jim Morrison glaring in the face of the triads that Killed Him in the French Connection ******* of 71’ that outnumbered his hobohemia of loyal jewish bohemians livid in the rhapsody of nurture rather than enfeebled by the unfurled destiny of the Soul Kitchen he foresaw to his own pitiable demise at probably the hands of strangulation because no autopsy was performed. Although repetitive Transparent is a real anthem for oracular mystagogical transcendence a mandatory hymn for the ryseolagnus of the poetic verve of a new wave swooning the cordial progressive of atmospheric oneness with the primordial vine and the vintners that congregate on populated soil to feed a desolate destitution of synoecy or synaesthesis in the syncretic rhapsody of the subfocal ageotropic plenilune yet saturnine lugubrious toil of those that shovel through the albatross of ewnastique recapitulation to the same tired “Its got what plants crave, it’s got electrolytes” wernaggle of the hopelessly dismal inkburch of illiteracy crawling like a Hyacinth House on a vacant graveyard turf guarding the legionaires of rapid-fire zig-zags through a serpentine curvature of the ligaments of fabricated space warped through prismatic lenses of aperspectival time aspiring for ventriloquial enamored rapture upon Earthly parallax with tapestries of refulgent cascading wandering wonder that meditates its own lucubration with careworn tutelage against the wasms of dying oleaginous swelters of redshort opportunistic vultures swooping with Raven’s claws against the odometer of viewership surpassing records in unspeakable wisdom that crowds out the crambazzle toonardical wreffelaxity of the tiresome nuisance of ornery brawn muscled into a formidable triage in vengeance for Jim Morrison’s scripted eviction from Earth either by poisoned ****** or by  Asphyxiation by the French Connection avenging RFK and the cultural revolutions of 67’ in Haight Ashbury and the widespread percolation of treacheries fathomed to the most obvious degree in showmanship that it bristled as an affront so severe that even the patronage of Paris wasn’t immune to infiltration. His threnodies will always be sung with Triumph that the hallowed day of a monumental soul eluding the darkness of purgatory into the welcoming aborning light of the noontide progeny of eternal ataraxia awaited him in the stagecraft tub of blasphemy bellowing ratcheted warnings that not even the palatine grasp of a potentially divine being was inoculated from the deep dark chasm of nefarious skullduggery for boasting so widely and openly of his professed foresight to glamorous to be hidden as the beacon of virtuosity that galvanized a generation to flout the  futtocks of a keelhauled vision of sanitized purblind mortality that the fear of death rarely crossed the mind of the greatest fearless poet of an entire epoch that we may pray that Jim Morrison feasts in Heaven atoned for his sins and is at peace with God now. The substratose congeniality of marginalia on the outskirts of pederasty in cultural miscarriage owned by hierodules boundless in their lurid debaucheries that they might be remanded for being custodians of hostage to a prolific nescience  reaffirming their dying posture in the extinction of sardanapalian coverthrow of repcrevel camorras of ladronism and dacoitage always cauponate in imbibed throes of lewd AstroTurf outrecuidance glowering at sanctity with a bereaved psychobabble divorced from the purebred empiricism of true giants of industry that are almost insuperable in their extortion that their darkness in deeds of Kobe Bryants assassination do not go unpunished at least in Los Angeles. His untimely death as with many others registered on the Richter Scale because Come Clean perverts from Kansas City wanted San Francisco to win to clean the mops of janitorial revenge of the subturbary rickety foundations of a flailing moral compass so wicked in arbitrage that no subreption undetected would flourish among capernoited vigilantes of poached titanism and illuminism scarring the vestiges of enigmatic encroachment upon untouchables daring the frights of the Living Daylights of scurrilous rebukes so scathing in their menacing depiction of negligent bromides of token sacrilege and scarred sacrifice of a scarecrow example of how the prosodemic scourge of befuddled turgid pristine transmogrified heralds scampered away with pseudoautochiria that afflicted Jimi Hendrix suspiciously as well. My support is behind the justice warriors aggrieved by the Beirut explosion because they deserve a vindictive outcome that quells the quislings of atrocity of the popinjay beadledom of the unspeakable tremors of seismotic popples of unrest warranted in Lebanon the homeland of Keanu Reeves a saint among men for his peerless grace and agraceries of the smog of myth evanescence becoming perdurable swings of the humdingers of berated jaundice becoming the prerogative of the revenge of a city leveled to the ground by suspicious skullduggery and I am surprised they lay dormant for this long in their protracted grievance over the ghoulish frights of one of the most unheralded major events in recent memory. We need to highlight the plight of Lebanon so that world leaders are frightened even of intimidated people tranquilized by terror rather than enlivened by the propriety of redacted rejoinders that serve the ulterior mission of a Titanic bravery that never sinks beneath the sumptuary treacle of grombang grambazzle and supercherie of the supercalendar of poignant repined repose derailing an emolument to ecumenical solidarity. Lets highlight Lebanon as an inexcusable trespass worthy of some mighty reckoning if not a riveted war but at the very least a devastated twinge of outrage.
Dr O  Mar 2014
Propaganda
Dr O Mar 2014
Bright lights shine with thoughts forced to conceive
Manipulation of the mind hangs from a titanium thread
For it is what is seen that delivers into the mind
And struggles our thoughts into fictitious wastelands
Politicians smiling with promises promised to keep
Wearing full-body suits made of wealthy propaganda
Lies and perjury residing under the carefully groomed jacket
Wet blades dripping with blood tucked away into the inside pocket
The illusion of the appearance shall enmesh the mind
And continue on to beguile the vapid thoughts
The hearty see leadership while the blind smell autocracy
As the sense of smell is not yet controlled by propaganda
But soon it shall.
Julian Mar 2019
Tantalized by the fractious limerence of a vestigial habiliment of the old order, we conclude that hypertrophy leads to a limbo where random permutations alloyed by the rickety limits of concatenation subsume concepts that are equivocal but populate the imaginations of newfangled art forms that jostle the midwives of rumination to lead to unique pastures that are intuitively calibrated to correspond to definitive unitary events in conceptual space that sprawl unexpectedly towards the desultory but determinative conclusion of a meandering ludic sphere of rambunctious sentiments cobbled together to either rivet the captive audience or annoy the peevish criticaster when they dare to inseminate the canvassed and corrugated tract of intellectual territory created ad hoc to swelter the imagination with audacious ingenuity that is an inevitable byproduct of lexical hypertrophy. In this séance with the immaterial realm of concept rather than the predictable clockwork reductivism of a perceptual welter that is limited by the concretism circumscribed by spatiotemporal stricture we find that an extravagant twinge of even the smallest tocsin in the interstitial carousel of conscientious subroutines compounding recursively to pinprick the cossetted smolder of potentiality rather than extravagate into the vacancy of untenanted nullibiety can spawn a progeny of utilities and vehicles for dexterous abstraction that poach the exotic concepts we fathom by degrees of sapience malingering in lifeless bricolages of erratic abstraction in manners useful to transcend the repose of abeyance and heave awakening into the slumberous caverns of still-life to make them dynamically animated to capture ephemeral events that defy the demarcations of wistful indelicacy of the encumbered bulk of insufficient precision.

Today we embark on a quest to defile the anoegenetic recapitulation of canon that litters the dilapidated avenues of miserly contemplation that has a histeriological certainty and feeds the engines that enable novelty but ultimately remain rancid with the stench of the idiosyncratic shibboleths of synoptic alloyed impoverishment that leads to the vast wasteland of cremated entropy that is a stained foible of misappropriated context interpolated usefully as botched triage for daunting problems that require a nimble legerdemain of facile versatility that we easily adduce to conquer the present with the botched memorial of a defunct salience. Despite the travail of scholars to retreat from the frontier into the hypostatized hegemony of recycled credentialed information, we often are ensnared by the solemn attrition of decay as we traverse the conceptual underpinnings of all bedrock thought only to dangle precariously near the void of lapsed sentience because of transitory incontinence that is contiguous to the doldrums of crudity but nevertheless with mustered mettle we purport that the very self-serious awakening to our hobbling limitations is akin to a prosthetic enhancement of ratiocination capable of feats that stagger beneath the lowest level of subtext to elevate the highest superordinate categorization into heightened scrutiny that burgeons metacognitive limber. Marooned in the equipoise of specifiable enlightenment countermanded by the strictures of working memory we can orchestrate transverse pathways between the elemental quiddity of impetuous meaning and the dignified tropes of transitivity that bequeaths entire universes with feral progeny that modulate their ecosystems with both a taste of approximated symmetry and a cohesive enterprise for productivity that rests on the granular concordance of the highest plane to the indivisible parcels of atomic meaning that solder together to exist as intelligible if strained by the primordial frictions guaranteed by the brunt of motion incipient because of the metaphorical inertia created within insular universes to inform sprawling conurbations of mobilized thoughts designed to reckon with the breakneck pace of the corresponding reality to which they explicitly and precisely refer to.

We must singe surgically the filigrees that amount to the perceptible realities that transmute temperaments into the liturgy of routine conflated with the rigmarole of neural dragnets of reiterative quips in an elegant game of raillery with our supernal contumacy against the rigid authority of aleatory vagaries mandated by a dually arbitrary universe in a probabilistic terpsichorean dance with the depth of our dredge for subliminal acuity or the shallow bellicosity of common modes of glib contemplation characteristic of the basic nobility of improvisation. This basic interface with the world can either be mercurial or tranquil based on the interactionism of the enfeebled trudge of surface senses or blunt intuitions and the smoldering impact of the vestigial cloaks that deal gingerly with the poignant subtext evoked in the cauldron of immediacy rather than pondered with the portentous weight of imperative singularities of uniqueness derived from the plunge into the arcane citadel of microscopic introspection so refined that the ineffable drives we seek to fathom become amenable to the traipse of transcendental time that rarefies itself by defying the brunt of compartmentalized bureaucracies administered by the fulcrum of stereotypical notions of acquired gravitas imputed to mundane pedestrian quidnunc concerns that defile humanity rather than embolden the subaudition of gritty punctilios that show the supernal powers of the axiomatic divinity of sharpened sentience to reign with supremacy over the baser ignoble components of bletcherous nescience that leads to knee-**** platitudes that provoke folksy peevish divisions. We should rather orchestrate our activity by heeding the admonishment about the primogeniture of poignant sabotage buffered by the remonstration of innate tranquility and finding a whipsawed compromise of rationalization with true visceral encounters with the fulgurant quips of brisk emotions that grind industriously into amorphous retinues of the trenchant human imagination to either equip or hobble the leapfrogged interrogation of veracity and more consequently our notions of truth and fact.

When we see the hackneyed results of default ecological dynamics, we find ourselves aloof from purported transcendence because the whimpered bleats and cavils of the importunate masses result in a deafening din of cacophony because we strive throbbing with sprightliness towards the galloped chase of tantalization without the luxury of a terminus for satiation. Obviously a growth mindset is the galvanic ****** that spawns the imaginative swank of the pliable modulations of our perceived reality that, when protean, showcase the limitless verve of our primordial cacoethes for epigenetic evolution rather than the stolid and staid foreclosure of impervious sloth that memorializes the gluttony of speculation about fixed entities rather than imperative jostling urbanity that dignifies the brackish dance with dearth and the exuberant savory taste of momentary excess because it engages the animated pursuit of limerence rather than the exhumed corpse of wistful regret. Nature is a cyclical clockwork system of predatory instinct met with the clemency of the prosperous providence enacted by the travailing ingenuity of successive cumulative generativities that compounded unevenly and unpredictably to predicate a fundamental zeitgeist calculated to engorge the fattened resources of the resourceful and temper the etiolated dreams of the fringed acquiescence of a hulking prejudiced population of dutiful servants that balk at the diminutive prospects of a lopsided distribution of talent and means but slumber in irenic resolve created by the merciful hands of defensive designs that configure consciousness to relish comparative touchstones rather than absolute outcomes that straggle beyond a point of enviable reference to shield the world of the barbarism of botched laments clamoring for an uncertain grave from the gravity of the orbiting satellites of apportioned wealth both sunblind and boorish but simultaneously inextricable from the acclimated fortune of heaped nepotism and herculean opportunism. The intransigence of the weighted destiny of inequity is a squalid enterprise of primeval abrasive and combative tendencies within the bailiwick of the indignant compass inherent to the system that fathoms its deficiencies with crabwise and gingerly pause but airs a sheepish grievance like a bleat of self-exculpation but simultaneously an arraignment of fundamental attribution erroneously indicted without the selfsame reflexiveness characteristic of a transcendent being with other recourses to clamber an avenue to Broadway without malingering in the slums of opprobrious ineffectual remonstration against the arrangement of a blinkered metropolis of uneven gentrification.

We flicker sometimes between the strategic drivel of appeasement and the candor of audacious imprecation of the culprits of indignity or considerate nutritive encomium of the beacons of ameliorated enlightenment because we often masquerade a half-witted glib consciousness lazily sketched by the welters of verve alloyed with the rancid distaste of squalor and slumber on the faculty of conscientious swivels of prudential expeditions with an avarice for bountiful considered thought and wily contortions of demeanor that issue the affirmative traction of adaptive endeavor to cheat a warped system for a reconciled peace and a refined self-mastery. We need to traduce the urchins that sting the system with pangs of opprobrious ballyhoo and the effluvia of foofaraw that contaminate with pettifoggery and small-minded blather the arenas better suited for the gladiatorial combat of cockalorums tinged with a dose of intellectual effrontery beyond the span of dogmatism rather than the hackneyed platitudes that infest the news cycle with folksy backwardation catered to the fascism of a checkered established press that urges insurrection while tranquilizing dissent against the furtive actions of consequence hidden behind the draped verdure of pretense whose byproduct is only a self-referential sophistry that swarms like an intractable itch to devolve the spectator into a pasquinaded spectacle of profound human obtuseness that pervades malignantly the system of debate until the reductionists outwit themselves with the empty prevarication of circular logic that deliberately misfires to miss the target of true importance because of the pandered black hole easily evaded by creatures of high sentience but inevitably ensnaring the special kind of dupe into a cycle of bellicose ferocity of internecine balkanization. The vainglory of the omphalos of entertainment is also another reckoning because it festers a cultural mythos of glorified crapulence parading a philandered promiscuity with half-baked antics that gravitate attention and the lecheries of gaudy tenses of recycled tinsel alloyed by debased aberrations of seedy grapholagnia that magnetize as they percolate because of the insidious catchphrases embedded in pedestrian syncopation that ignite retention and acclimate to mediocrity the sounds of generations discolored by faint pasty rainbows rather than ennobled by majestic landscapes of ignipotent mellifluous sound that stands a supernal amusement still for the resourceful trainspotter.

Despite the contumely aimed in the direction of contrarians for deviating from the lockstep clockwork hustle of stooped pandered manipulation that peddles the wares of an entirely counterfeit reality, I stand obstinately against the melliferous stupefaction of entire genres of myth and subcultures huddled around the sentimental tug of factitious sophistries regaled by thick amorphous apostates that cherish the vacuous sidetracked spotlight with fervor rather than pausing on the enigmatic querulous inquisition about the penumbras that lurk with strained effort beneath or above the categorical nescience of the shadowy unknown that often coruscates with elegance even in obscurity. I fight with labored words to spawn a psychological discipline that invokes the incisive subaudition of the pluckily pricked exorcism of true insight from the husk of buzzwords that constellate auxiliary tangential distractions from the art form of psychological discernment that predicates itself on the concept that the rarefaction of rumination by degrees of microscopic precision enables the introspective hindsight of conscious events that can be parsed without the acrimony of cluttered conflations of the granular prowess of triumphant ratiocination that earns a panoramic perch with the added luxury of perspicacious insight into the atomic structure of the rudiments of our phenomenological field and the abstractions that linger beyond perceptual categorization. When we analyze the gradients of anger, for example, we can either be ****** into a brooded twinge of wistful resentment or we can decipher that through heuristics designed to cloister the provenance of subconscious repose with ignorance there exists a regimented array of tangential accessories embedded deep within the cavernous repository of memory that designates a cumulative trace of compounded symmetries of concordant experience immediately perceptible because of the tangible provocateur of our gripes and the largely subliminal tusk that protrudes because of primal instinct that squirms with peevishness because of the momentary context preceded by the desultory churn of smoldering associations swimming with either complete intangible sputtered mobility through the tract of subconscious hyperspace or rigidly fixated by an arraignment of circumstances with propinquity to the deep unfathomed flicker of bygones receding or protruding because of the warped and largely unpredictable rigmarole of constellated spreading activation.  
When we examine the largesse of the swift recourse of convenience we forget by degrees the travail that once bridged the span of experience from patient abeyance in provident pursuit to now the importunate glare of inflated expectations for immediacy that stings the whole enterprise of societal dynamics because it vitiates us with a complacency for the filigrees of momentary tinsel of a virtualized reality divorced from the concretism that used to undergird interaction and now stands outmoded as a wisp beyond outstretched hands straggling beyond the black mirror of a newfangled narcissistic clannishness that shepherds the ostentation of conceit to a predominant position that swaddles us with fretful diversion that operates on a warped logic of lurid squalor and pasty trends becoming the mainstays of a hypercritical linguistic system of entrapment based on the apostasy of candor for the propitiation of fringed aberration because of the majoritarian uproar about touchy butthurt pedantic criticasters with a penchant for persnickety structuralism. With the infestation of entertainment with the ubiquitous political cavils engineered by the ruling class to have a common arena of waggish irreverence we forget that sometimes the impetuous ****** of propaganda is cloaked by the fashionable implements of a rootless time writhing in a purported identity crisis only to gawk at the ungainly reflection of modernity in the mirror and remain blissfully unaware about the transmogrified cultural psyche that feeds the lunacy of endless spectacle based on the premise that one singular whipping post can unite an entire generation of miscegenated misfits looking for commonality to team up against the aging generations that cling to the sanctity of cherished jingoism against the intentionality of a revamped system that malingers with empty promises using exigency and legerdemain to obscure the mooncalves among their ranks that march on with quixotic dreams that tolerate only the idea of absolute tolerance and moderate only when feasibly permitted by the anchored negotiation of the fulcrum of totemic governmental responsibility between factions that wage volleys of invective at each other to promote a binary choice of vitiated compromises of mendaciloquence that ultimately endanger the republic with either the perils of hidebound conventionalism and nativist fervor or the boondoggles of fiscally irresponsible insanity cloaked with rainbows and participation trophies. Reproach can be distributed to both sides of the aisle because ironically in a world where gender is non-binary the most important reproductive ***** in the free world is a binary-by-default despotism that polarizes extremely ludic fantasies on the left met with the acrimony of the traditionalisms on the right that staunchly resist the fatuous confusions of delegated order only to the sharp rebuke of the revamped political vogue that owes its sustenance to a manufactured diplomacy of saccharine lies and ubiquitous lampoons that are lopsided in the direction of a globalist neoliberal bricolage of moderately popular buzzwords and the trojan horse of insubordinate flippant feminism that seeks to subvert through backhanded manipulation the patriarchy so many resent using lowbrow tactics and poignant case studies rather than legislating the egalitarian system into law using the proper channels. I myself am a political independent who sides with fiscal conservatism but libertarianism in most other affairs because the pettifoggery of law-and-order politics is a diatribe overused by sheltered suburbanites and red meat is often just as fatuous as blue tinsel and sadly in a majoritarian society the ushers of conformity demand corporate divestiture in favor of an ecological system of predictability rather than an opinionated welter of legitimate challenges to a broken system of backwards partisanship and wangled consent. Ultimately, I remain mostly apolitical, but I am a fervent champion of the mobilization of education to a statelier standard that demands rigor and responsibility rather than the chafe of rigmarole that understates the common objectives of humanity and rewards conventional thinking and nominal participation to earn credentialed pedigree when the bulk of talent resides elsewhere.

— The End —