The Hydra-Headed Bitch Media and The Shitstorm Machine.

Alright peoples of the world- grab a chair and let’s look at the flow chart. This flow chart is in your mind. We already know that shit flows downhill; hard shit more likely rolls downhill. We also know that shit can be piped in any direction. Liquefied shit, the kind of shit that comes out over the airwaves in a diarrhea tidal wave gives the impression there must be some cosmic hog lagoon somewhere because they never run out of it.

Recently I noted a headline at MSNBC.com which stated that a US Sailor, one Ariel Weinmann was charged with spying. It’s pretty clear he was spying for Israel but of course the Navy denies this and there are a lot of fancy shit-murals being painted that depict him really spying for Russia. Regardless of any of this, no mention of Israel was made at MSNBC. According to them he was spying for an ‘unknown’ government. I guess eventually Pollard will have a new cellmate but let’s not concern ourselves with spying trivia. In light of ‘known’ AIPAC spying and ‘known’ Mossad connections to the 9/11 attacks and ‘known’ roving bands of Israeli art students wandering through government offices and mysterious Israeli moving vans in many countries around the world, I think we can take it for granted that Israel is spying all the time everywhere and we don’t need to wonder about that. To be fair, let’s point out that probably every government is spying on somebody. This article isn’t about spying though. I’m just setting a stage before we do a little dance and then head over the punch bowl to bob for turds. Believe me, there are turds a plenty in the punch bowl.

What I want to do is talk about who and what is the biggest enemy of truth and freedom and general, overall well-being in the world today. Who is it that shapes world thought? What is it that forms our impressions of events in the world and our individual neighborhoods? What permits and censors comment? What defines what happened and what didn’t happen? Who says who speaks and who is silenced? Who determines what is real and what is not? Who labels everyman or everywoman in terms determined by them to whatever effect or definition they decide? Who lets Popular Mechanics bumble fact-less and tactless and witless as chief defense witness for the 9/11 shit smear of a retarded cover-up?

We’re talking about a creature every bit as mythic as The Kraken, The Gorgon and- if we want to get object-specific; The Golden Fleece, or if you prefer, The Golden Goose. We’re talking about a creature with a speaking part in The Book of Revelations and something that lives under children’s beds, in their closets and makes moving gestures at the corner of your eye until you turn around to look at it and then it disappears. It’s also right in front of you doing the same thing; dancing in the leaves of the forest while they tremble from the wind, marching in massive ranks of words across countless pages, talking from air-brushed fantasylands on a billion TV’s and radios. Unless you walk a hundred miles into the desert or the jungle you can hear it and see it and even there it is moving through the air even if you don’t have a medium to capture and relay it.

I am talking about the million-headed death goddess, Bitch Media; wielder of the Shitstorm Machine and shape shifter of all that you see and hear; the shake and bake Madam of the world’s biggest whorehouse and attention vampire on the neck of the world. She feasts on hope and fear. She primps in the universal mirror. Her perfumes are mind altering gases. Her body is composed of thousands of hungry mouths that tear and rip at universal balance. Balance is no good for the bottom line. Imbalance is good for the bottom line. Peace and harmony and brotherhood are bad investments. War and catastrophe and every disagreeable thing that can’t be fixed by the product they just sold you are good for the bottom line.

Is there any enemy of humanity greater than Bitch Media in all the world? You might say ignorance is right up there, but ignorance is just a convenient agency through which she works. Ignorance is one of her biggest by-products and it’s a growth industry.

So class... are you listening? Class? I’m going to talk about your homework assignment for this next week. Here’s what I want. I want you to find out who owns Bitch Media. I want to know who pulls the strings; the actual strings. I don’t want to hear about stockholders or a company’s commitment to their investors or any gobbledy-gook about anything other than who is behind the 24/7 magnetic disinfo cloud of shit that is manufacturing false realities and superimposing them upon whatever was there originally. I forget right now what that was as I suppose do you.

I’m going to give you a little starting hint and provide the name Rupert Murdoch. Of all of the anal warts that line the rectal highway of Bitch Media’s output flow port he stands (squats) supreme among his fellows. Does someone control him? Does he have a play group? Is he in a club? I’m going to throw out the names Viacom, Time Warner and The Hearst Corporation. This gives you a general idea of some of the viral agencies that live in the fissures of the rectal canal of Bitch Media.

What I want to know is who tells these people and these agencies what to say and when to say it? I want to know if they have interests besides information and whether they are overly represented by individuals with loyalties to any government or nation; in other words to things beyond their own personal profit- even though of course anything would be geared to serve that.

I want you to tell me why they do the things they do. I want to know why it is cost effective for millions to die because someone said something was real when it was not. I want to know why all of the major viral life forms and life form collectives that live in the fissures in the ass of Bitch Media agree on making what is not so appear to be so. I realize that lies and misinformation are money making machines and I realize that you couldn’t, or wouldn’t buy that brand of car or stereo or house or politician or toilet paper unless someone told you a convincing lie about it- sexed it up- made it blow you in your mind- left you weak in the knees and trembling right up until it happened and then you realized you had gotten fucked and you wanted your money back but it was too late and all the lines are busy.

I want to know why we can’t be told the truth and why when we find it out on our own they say it isn’t true even though we are looking dead at it and did everything we could to make sure we had weighed all the evidence and touched it and put our hands in the hole in it’s side and have seen it rise over and over from the dead because you can’t kill the truth... you can only cover it up with ill-fitting clothes and try to bury it in an unmarked grave which, as I said, doesn’t work.

I don’t want to know WHY they do it. I know why they do it- even if it doesn’t make sense to me considering the implications of mortality and legacy; wait a minute- they can revise the legacy... which is hopefully some good when you’re gone, along with all the power and wealth and whatever there was.

What I want to know is WHO is pulling the strings. I want to know WHAT they have in common. I want to know which company owns whatever else and I want to know WHERE they come from and I want names and hard cold facts about all of Bitch Media’s little elves and whether there is a common similarity between them that explains why some things which are true are not true and some things which are lies become true. I want to know what the answer is to this strange world blanketing phenomena that are the cause of so much suffering and slander and debasement and dumbing down and what seems to be pure evil intent.

When you get this list together I want you to study it. What you hold in your hands- if you’ve done your homework- are the names of humanities most dreadful enemies. Not all the terrorists and serial killers and mass murderers in the world are as awful and as dangerous as these names. These are the ones who make the political marionettes dance. These are the ones who with fountain pens set off bloodbaths the world wide. These are the cancer among us. There are the ones.

There’ll be a test come Friday.