A Bad Case of Chosen People Syndrome.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

I'm no prophet but a middle range expert on the obvious. While most minds are focused on the heinous, political escapades of anal fixated, Republican, Israeli buttboys and girls and the sold out, warmonger Obama with his new Orthodox chief of staff, the rest of us are wondering what's wrong with you. New bumper sticker; “Hey Obama, do you think you could rule any better with that menorah jammed up your ass”? Well, there goes decorum and politesse right out the door and innuendo. I'd like to be nicer, if this were a cleaner, greener landscape. I'd like to be deferential and exceedingly more humane and forgiving. I try to do my best under the circumstances but the circumstances demand calling them out and calling them on it. The times demand that the villagers pick up their pitchforks and rakes and storm the palace gates.

Johnny Depp was by the White House playing Stepin Fetchit for the Stepin Fetchit in Chief, probably at the behest of Tim Burton, as a sort of friendly gesture in this land of friendly fire and collateral damage. Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt stopped in the other day. No doubt their excuse had something to do with garnering attention for their favorite charities; much like Bono doing a sunglasses ad during the Bush administration; all hot and bothered about AIDS in Africa and the low profit return on his charity. Billions are hanging like unreachable mangoes above the devastated landscape of Haiti, serving as nothing more than interest bearing vehicles for bankers. You pitiful, miserable, poor excuses for upright walking entities. The Punisher is coming and he IS GOING TO kick your asses... in “all the old familiar places” and so on and so forth.

Anyway; about not being a prophet... under the radar of the obvious, big changes in the human schematic are burbling and bubbling and talking sub rosa about massive migrations coming, along with the confusion of previously, more or less, well ordered relationships and Bishop Pike economies, along with great opportunities in the servitude industries; take a hike pilgrim. You didn't go to Wharton and the closest you got to The Ivy League was when you were working for that landscaping contractor re-pointing those brick walls that they build to keep your sort out. Don't worry, Roland ,the Headless Thompson Gunner is on the way.

Yesterday was one of those Woo Woo periods where some unnamed and yet to surface evil was being distilled in the laboratory of Dr. Frankenstein, post modern, recently of Fort Detrick. I could feel it in the air; bad guys up to bad things. Bad guys that don't understand the principles of risk, in counterpoint with the unpredicted, juxtaposed to free will and the dictates of fate. It didn't work with Napoleon either. He bled his country white under the guise of patriotism, all dressed up like a hot chick, who'll do anyone at any time but you know she only has eyes for you. Uh huh, it's chicks with dicks time for the STD shore leave express. You can't tell nobody nuthin. . You can't tell nobody nuthin.

That's the biggest problem in any time or situation. People are so goddamned confident about their certainty of direction and action. Those bankers and brokers and corporate creeps are all monkeys reaching into the vase for the avocado and they just can't let go of it and so they get caught by the trapper and wind up on a spit. It's scrambled monkey brains and grits for the demons in the pits.

I'd like to have more sympathy. I'd like to have more compassion. I'd like to see things come back from sideways but the wide boys won't accommodate. They like the death and destruction. They like to think they're mobbed up like all those wanna be gangsters over at The Yonkers Racetrack, with that brittle blonde on their arm, ten years past her use by date. What the Hell. They didn't want to talk to it anyway. They just wanted to fuck it. Now they limp along, in mutual contempt, at the paramutual window and playact like something out of the, yet to be written, “Wiseguys and Gun-molls”. He owns a hardware store. She owns an attitude and the closest they've ever been to The Mafia is when they walked by a flash-mob in the mall.

There's a reason for bringing this up. As has been stated ad infinitum, the main problem is not the vampire bats in the roof rafters of the ship of economy and state. It's all the little people pretending to be a part of the operation. They're the people who make it possible for shit on a shingle to be made with the actual ingredients and served to everyone else. They'll tell you they like the taste but a lot of people don't mind eating shit if you serve it to them warm. A lot of people don't mind the deaths and the destruction as long as they are employed. They believe what serves their purposes to continue on into the support net of lies that hold them up and allow them that safe detachment, from the awareness of the impact of what they do and who they serve.

It's the same thing with religion. How out of touch do you have to be to invest trust and fidelity into the presumed legitimacy of the world's biggest drag queen; dressed up in ermine and encrusted hats that look like they belong on the head chef at the Mardi Gras, at the after parade buffet? How really dumb do you have to become to actually believe that The Prince of Peace wants you to slaughter goatherds and their families? How fucked up do you have to get to perform in videos, while pissing on the dead and dismembered, piled up around you, that you were so brave and collected as to kill with your vastly superior weapons? You're going to Hell, buddy. How twisted can you get to really believe that God hates the same people you do? That's not God. That's The Devil, fool.

God hasn't got anything to do with any of this crap. What kind of a moron supports torture of people completely unconnected to the events they are being tortured for? What kind of moron doesn't get that the events and acts that are used to legitimize the torture, were actually carried out by the people running your government? That's right, the people doing the torture are working for the people who did the things these people are being tortured for. So tell me, how can they possibly answer the questions? Since it has already been publicly admitted by members of the very agency that created it, that Al Qaeda does not exist; who exactly is it that you are killing?

Since it is a known fact that Qaddafi was working on a currency for the African continent how is it that you, you fool of a Schmoo public, can watch news broadcasts that make no sense, in content or context and believe something that you don't even understand in the first place? How is it that you can sit there with a Budweiser in one hand and your dick in another and not be affected whatsoever by the destruction of an underground water project that WAS one of the wonders of the world? How can you cheer and wave your flags, while the most evil nation on Earth, created as a territorial refuge for the bankers that have looted and bankrupted your country, not only murder their neighbors on all sides but do it with your money and the lives of your children? You got Chosen People Syndrome. It's like Stockholm Syndrome, only a lot more people die. Repeat after me, Jesus was not a Jew. Are these people behaving like the guy you have turned into Elmer Fudd in a robe? You are on the verge of receiving everything you deserve.

Well, you're not reading this are you? You're wondering if it's safe to break out that Kim Kardashian blowup doll for a little polyurethane, deep lung time; given that your wife left for her mother's fifteen minutes ago and doesn't appear to have forgotten anything that came to mind since she left. There sits the photo of your, “young and dumb and full of cum” dead son on the mantelpiece over the gas fireplace. He sure looks good in his military suit. He'll sit there forever young till the end of your days. He died for his country. No, as a matter of fact, he died for the profit of bankers who have no country. He died for worse than nothing. They all died for worse than nothing and in the meantime, the bankers are making war on you too. They took your job and now they're going to take your house and the president of your country takes his orders from them.

Yeah, well, business as usual on the precipice of Hell. Dark clouds on the horizon for the doomed empire of useless shit; full time worshipers at the First Church of Plastic Kitsch. You bet, she'll be coming around the mountain when she comes. She'll be breathing fire and dressed in awesome attire; ready willing and able to show you the meaning of, “ashes to ashes and dust to dust”.


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: ♫ Mountian of Release ♫
'Mountian of Release' is track no. 9 of 13 on Visible's 2007 album 'The Sacred and The Profane'