Bozo the Clown and a Six Pack of High School Girls

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

Though this posting more correctly would belong at Reflections in a Petri Dish, we're going to break with tradition- which is something that happens a lot around here anyway- and insert it in Smoking Mirrors. As has been stated here, the cosmos is starting to operate, to some degree on a comedic impulse. Outside of that, it is pure tragedy and looking to escalate, according to the agenda of bankers, presently running the asylum, or so they think. Many of us might like to have our own personal banker and today, Mr. Visible directs you to the acquisition of that item. Once you have your own personal banker you are going to need a power seat, to direct your enterprises from. Many of us are searching for a spiritual epiphany but do not possess the necessary tools. Some of us have had that epiphany and are anxious to share it with others. We're going to go for the record of links inserted in a Visible blog today. We want to expand on the comedic side of life, as it describes itself these days. Comedy is the logical outcome of absurdity and absurdity is the state of the culture. The archetypes are starting to resemble Bozo the Clown, running around with a seltzer bottle. They even elected him president back in the 80s.

Today we're going to have links inside of links but you're not going to be happy with all of them because some of them are disgusting and profane but some of them promise to be (or not to be) the answer to your dreams. Of course, if you follow that dream ♫wherever that dream may lead♫, you are probably going to need this too. It's just a short step from finding true love, to celebrating the progeny of the union and though you don't usually get walking, talking children from this kind of intercourse, you always get offspring of some kind. So, what do you think about the state of health of the culture?

When I want to do a routine checkup of the state of the times, I put on my doctor suit (no pants), which consists of a white lab coat, worn open, a Ramones t-shirt, my stethoscope, a headlamp and some black framed glasses; just the frames. Then I first go to the supermarket and investigate the various sections. When I am in the meat department, I measure the quantity of different meats in relation to each other; how much beef, how much pork, how much lamb, how much chicken? I also check to see if anyone has noticed that I'm not wearing pants. I've got a magic marker, red heart painted on one buttock, so as to be seen as not discriminating and which also allow me to fit right in with the other customers because they have no discrimination whatsoever. Before leaving for the processed foods department, I leave a few business cards on the deli case counter with my name, address and phone number and the statement, “Once you go black you never go back”.

At the processed food section I pull out a Sara Lee cake, a bag of battered Freedom Fries, hog nostril pizzas, TV dinners and whathaveyou. I look on the back to see how many ingredients are defined by words bigger than most of some of the words you can find in the German language. Then I juggle some of the items, until a store employees arrives and makes me stop. Next, I count how many aisles of soft drinks and potato chips they have and I explore the wonderful world of contemporary candy. By this time I know more than I want to, so I head next door to the Chinese restaurant and have 4 or 5 double, Johnny Walker Blacks. This allows me to plug into the ordinary, every day consciousness of the public. My next stop is the closest mammoth arcade, where I count the chicken-hawks (yes, there is more than one kind of chicken hawk but they are very often the same person) and I divide that by the percentage of kids on some kind of illegal drug, or state approved pharmaceutical. In the land of the low rent boy, the one-eyed man is homeless.

My next visit is to some version of Kaiser Permanente, where I pose as a pharmaceutical salesman, with a new product called Vladafine, which is an anti-nausea compound that inhibits the need to hurl. Here, I find out what sort of terms and arrangements are going down in present time. I multiply this by the amount of people being given only prescriptions, as a result of their visit, having already subtracted the amount of people actually given some kind of treatment. Of course, I check to see what the nature of the complaints are and whether heartburn, diabetes, high blood pressure and terminal cholesterol have increased by any significant margin. Then I find the square root of the varieties of Cancer.

My last two stops are a Grade 1 to Grade 12 education complex and any government office building that also contains a courtroom. Here I, once again, check to see if anyone notices that I'm not wearing pants and I also spend some time in various classrooms, checking out the curriculum. I have lunch in the cafeteria. I spend some time in the courtroom, Then I stop back by the school and pick up a six pack of high school girls because it's time to head home now, kick back and think about what I've seen this day. I can tell you that I get a very accurate read on just how things are. I might put the local news on the TV and see a series of reports on things like this. I haven't forgotten the high school girls. They're chillin in the refrigerator. Ah, I should mention that once I am drained and teetering on my feet, with empties on the coffee table, I generally head over to some Tribe authorized art gallery for some wine and toe cheese. Generally, I tend to carry a pocket recorder for the conversations, which also give me a good thermometer read on the temperature of the culture.

I don't want to forget that in these changing times, religions are going through a makeover; kind of a do over and remember that the smart worshiper makes sure to be properly suited up. It's also good to check out the cottage industry realm because, in tough financial times, you can get an accurate count of the pulse of the people, as they respond to the challenges of banker fraud and austerity legislations. This naturally leads to a grief inquiry into social rituals and how folks are handling that. It's always good to check for the polarities between the mutual manipulations of liberals and conservatives and, in the process, drop in on Ted Nugent's girlfriend, for a little R&R. Given that it's been a long day, you want to take the time to engage in bedtime prayers and give them that little extra effort, where you can feel the power of reciprocal engagement. Make no mistake, this kind of thing is as common as breathing and not nearly as rare as objective thinking.

I like to think of myself as a 'hands on' kind of a guy, whether it's long distance faith healing and I take the trouble to include a set of hands in the mail, as a follow up to the rituals of my online ministry, or if I'm simply sitting on a park bench, reaching for something I can't see anywhere around me, unless you count the trees and the squirrels, given that the majority of the squirrels are walking by you on two feet.

Another way that I get a feel for how things are, is to walk along the railroad tracks of various East Coast cities and check out the neighborhoods on either side of the tracks. Abandoned lots can be very informative for the garden variety, cultural anthropologist, but I must admit that I am confused by the term 'abandoned lot'; abandoned by who? Does this mean I can just take possession of it? Is it the same thing as an abandoned car, or an abandoned house? Meanwhile, most of the time they aren't abandoned. There are people there a lot of the time. There even used to be neighborhood gardens, until Monsanto had them outlawed and you can trace the continuity of that operation from the factory farms, to the supermarket I was in earlier. You can trace state authorized (and keep in mind who controls the state) pedophilia, through any number of venues from Calvin Klein advertisements to things like this.Then you do a flashback to JonBenet Ramsey and a multitude of unreported events of like kind. Informed minds will ponder the use of the name Jon and whether that might suggest a client list. And what's with the missing 'h'? Here's the kicker, there's no 'h' in Moon. See, most of you probably didn't pick up on this and that's why you need me. The Beatles song, “I Need You” was written personally for me and years ago I discovered the meaning of the word, 'Beatles”. Look closely and see if you can tell what I am talking about. I'll pause for a few moments to give you an opportunity to cogitate. So, did you see it? Check it out; Beat Les. That's right. The Beatles were a vehicle to frustrate and ruin my mission here. Now there are only two Beatles left and there's still half a dozen of me., given the MPS syndrome.

I'm thinking right about now that you are probably thinking, “Wow, Visible! I never ever before put all of these things together”. Uh huh, that's right, but once you understand about The Moon, you know ...and it all fits into place, like one of those complex jigsaws you see in an old folks home. I'm going to tell you right now that a good place to look for future messages is at estate auctions, flea markets and lawn sales. The key item you will be looking for is old, cross stitched, needle-work samplers. Long ago, members of an ancient race, reincarnated into time-spaces between The Civil War and The Greatest Generation and constructed samplers, whose message activates and resurrects hidden truths in the subconscious. Don't ask me how or why this is but it is. Sadly, many of the latter incarnates were struck down by Tom Brokaw Disease for which there is no known cure.

Now, as we approach the moment of being directly lined up with the center of the galaxy, many things long buried are coming to light. The awakening cannot be stopped but serious efforts are being made to retard it. Madonna Kabala wants the freedom for Pussy to Riot, as Mr. Berg buys up all that Los Angeles real estate, with the extorted donations from blind acolytes, bathing in Kabala water and wearing red strings bought at Target. Soon Scientology and Kinky Kabala, are going to merge and the final assault on human dignity and liberty will be underway. Lady Gag Me will be doing the soundtrack and seeking to turn all of us into Little Monsters. Surely you know this and I'm just more or less soliloquizing; talking to myself in the funhouse mirror. Well, it's not a funhouse yet but it is going to be, count on it.


End Transmission........

Visible and The Critical List: ♫ Rap Sucks ♫
'Rap Sucks' is track no. 7 of 12 on Visible and The Critical List's 1992 album
'Not Politically Correct'
About this song (pops up)



Mr Visible's machine gun rap radio broadcast is now available for streaming or download.