When the Dog Poet gets his Flying Saucer Back

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

No, I am not shocked and dismayed. Quite frankly I am gleeful because, ‘it appears’ that some major league fraudsters, right up there with the 9/11 Commission who blamed the attacks on Muslims, instead of The Mossad and The CIA, who actually did the attack, have been caught intentionally lying about- and cooking the weather books- global warming. It goes without saying that they were probably all in for a piece of the pending world carbon tax or... they could just naturally be lying, snake-eyed, scumbags with a hole inside them where their soul used to be.

As most of us with half a brain already know... global warming is a scam with a bag of looted currencies as the motive. We knew it was bullshit and now it has been tasted and tested and, indeed; “Hmmm, that tastes like shit. Here, try some; what do you think?” “Wow... that does taste like shit. Smells like shit too.”

Well, our boys in the lab probably could have just given it the smell test but... they’re dedicated. We work hard to authenticate what is not real so that you can be spared the ordeal of believing in it!

I was going to say something about the S&MSM completely avoiding the topic and indeed had said something about the Affiliated Federation of Crack Whores or the AFCW, if you prefer but... suddenly, there it was at the Zio-Gates site with the appropriate diminishments and miniaturization of the importance of real scientists, who used to have reputations, telling real lies to boost their stock holdings in the Carbon Tax business.

I could almost feel the allergic reaction of tiny red pimples dotting my neck as I read the sleazy and infected disinfo from someone named Juliet whose Romeo is no doubt closer in spiritual form to Quasimodo than the original character who died for love, preferring instead to live for lies. Luckily I never get red pimples dotting my neck but I could feel the heat from somewhere.

I just returned from that S&MSM Zio-Media site and the headline is now about a quarter of the size it was and underneath another headline and it will probably be gone shortly. This way they can say they reported on it; “What darkness through yonder cistern leaks?” It is Juliet leaning into the world’s car window and running down the prices of what she’ll do for this amount of money. It appears she will do anything and everything. Since we’ve already established what she is, we only need to agree on the price.

We’ve got body fat traffickers in Peru with a little organ snatching on the side, Baby Soup in China and flesh eating crocodiles in the seats of government and the halls of what used to be Justice, until she was gang-raped and shipped to Dubai; after that we lost track of her. Most of the world is bending over and asking, “What about me”? “Haven’t I believed every impossible lie you told me? Don’t I deserve to be ridden hard and put away wet? Burn me with hot irons and put out my eyes, I can’t see anything anyway. Please, please abuse me. Dress me up in a chicken suit that’s naked in the back and film me in front of my family for national TV. I’ve got no brains and no self respect.”

Bend over and wait.

Years ago I thought it was as batshit crazy as it could get but I guess I had humanity on a pedestal. I really thought you could only push them so far before they would riot in the streets. Ah well... and so it goes.

Okay... alright, I know it all works out. Still, sometimes I wish I had my flying saucer so that I could interrupt TV programs and tell it like it is. I want to hover over Washington D.C. and broadcast with major amplification from the Lincoln Reflecting Pool all the way to The Capitol. Meanwhile, helicopters could buzz around me and missiles could bounce off my force fields while SWAT and government hit jockeys let fly with automatic weapons from the ground. Man... what I could do if I had my saucer.

I’d strip just about every member of the government naked. I’d fill the White House, The Senate and The Capitol with pig shit; not that they’d notice. I’d broadcast their naked, trembling forms around the world and turn on the laugh tracks. I’d leech all the secret government documents from around the world; all the corporate secrets and feed them into my universal translating unit and then publish them on the internet. I’d tell who did what to who and when.

I’d nail them for all their infidelities and disloyal acts. I’d expose every payoff and pull video down from the Akashic Records and convert it to AVI or XVID and we could go to the video. I’d shrink all of them to about one foot in height and stick them in terrariums with laminated information posters that tell the story of what they are. I would selectively put those who belonged together with each other and wire it for sound and picture. They would each be a cable show that you could dial up. “Let’s see, Cheney and Friends are on channel 349. I think I’ll check that out.”

Of course, we’d want these terrariums electrified and set to discharge a tazer load at odd intervals. I’d select a different one of them every day and immobilize them in a chair with a klieg light in their faces and interrogate them live. Being as I am not like them I would use only certain inducements to make them talk and I think they would talk. After all, I could just show one of the films I downloaded from the Akashic Library. It would be win, win. I’d turn the entire Rothschild Family along with selected K.A.’s (known associates) into incontinent Gila monsters but leave them with their previous consciousness. They’d have to eat insects and dead rats or whatever the natural fare is. “Hey dude, it’s feeding time at the Rothschild terrarium. Let’s check it out!”

They’d be in some large public museum taken over for that purpose, maybe MOMA. We could just burn all the useless, uninspired, pretentious shit they presently have on display and move the terrariums right in. I’d take the entire, illegal state of Israel and put it in one of those things people buy on vacation. You know, those plastic jobbies that have the Statue of Liberty in them and you turn it upside down and it looks like it’s snowing? I’d make it about as big as a bus. I’d put the whole state in there and have it fixed so that groups of Ritalin challenged school kids could just keep hitting the lever and turning it upside down and making it snow. It might not be snow though. Then again, I could put it in Gaza.

Yeah, if I only had my saucer; I’ll be getting my saucer back at some point and then... and then? Well, I’ve got a creative mind. Mostly what I would do though is go inside their minds and find the appropriate thing... stopping short of any real violence of course. That’s just not my thing, though there is a particular former president that I would most definitely be stepping into the ring with and one or two Fox commentators as well. Rupert Murdoch will be getting the VIP (Vicious Ignorant Prick) treatment. Oh Rupert, you Satan worshipping, black hole of a former human being... you’re going to get the deluxe package. There’s a group of you who are going to be performing on my version of American Idol in front of the whole world when the Dog Poet gets his saucer back.

Meanwhile it’s “promises, promises”. However, I believe if you can imagine it, it is possible. I believe that the one who made me can make anything, so... I also know that in the not too distant future, all of you are going to shed this protective covering that gives you presence here and journey to other locations and, I assure you, as inventive as I am, I am no match for your future hosts and they don’t have my restraint... no, indeed they do not.

I’ll close with saying that I hold you in the most absolute and utter contempt. I do not fear you at all. I want you to know on the day that each of you depart that I will be thinking about you. I won’t be wishing you ill. I don’t need to. I might pray that in the far reach of time, when your punishment is through, that redemption might find its way into your being and that you might even become human again, as you work your way back up again from your first new incarnation as a rock.

Visible has a radio show Sunday night. This show will be completely audio, I’m going to do away with printing half of it as a blog entry. I was just being time efficient or lazy, depending on how you see it. Ahrooooooooooooooooo!


End Transmission......

sung for Ken Lay at his funeral
Visible sings: ♫ Oh Kenny Boy ♫
'Oh Kenny Boy' is track no. 4 of 10 on Visible's 2002 album
'911 was an Inside Job'
Lyrics (pops up)



Smoking Mirrors Mirror.