Mr. Apocalypse does, Ground and Pound.

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

May your noses always be cold and wet.

In the Kingdom of Dumb-ass, the borderline intellect is king. We've all heard the phrase, 'dreadful irony' and we've seen examples of it. We've seen slithering yellow journalism where nothing said, says it all. I'm starting to think that Hillary Clinton and Madonna were separated at birth, just like I think Rupert Murdoch and Henry Kissinger were separated at birth. Basically, what is going on is a calculated genocide against human dignity, which hallmarks the death of class and manners. I mourn the loss of manners, more than just about anything else. Without manners, you have no class but, I guess that depends on how you define manners. I'm not talking about empty gestures, devoid of empathetic force. I'm not talking about hollow men and cactus hearts. I see the absence of manners everywhere (does that last sentence make any sense?). I see it on the highways and in the supermarkets. I see it on the sidewalks and in pubs. I see incipient suspicion, that lingers in the corners of the eyes.

The people who are happy to be living in these times, are the people who are glad that manners no longer have to get in the way of their self interest. Push and Shove are arm in arm. Push and shove have turned into muckers, plying their madness, at the corner of Shit and Go Blind. It's the logical; meaning predictable, outcome of unbridled materialism. The people who are not happy to be here, don't like materialism, it's that familiarity that breeds contempt thing and it just breeds anyway, stinking like fishes after 3 days and languishing in extraordinary, rendition prisons, when they don't go along with the program. People who support this kind of thing have their own section of Hell, RSVP, eternity. I don't get that eternal thing about Hellfire and endless damnation. It makes no lyrical or logical sense, given what little I understand about The Divine but... it makes a certain amount of poetic sense in certain cases. We are in deep need of some poetic justice and some galvanizing transition that finally makes a statement that resonates, across the many waters of human consciousness.

The changing of an age, is such a fundamentally comprehensive thing, going on inside and outside at the same time. It's hard to get a handle on what's happening and the sluggish progress, is like a constipated dinosaur, lumbering across the plain, roaring out in discomfort. He knows he shouldn't have eaten that Triceratops over the weekend. Our various cultures know that they shouldn't have eaten the blue pill. Well, they don't actually know that they ate the blue pill, because eating the blue pill negates knowing about it. What they know is that something is wrong but they don't know what it is, ♫Do you Mr. Jones?♫.

Obviously, eventually, the attention goes to what has been occupying their attention, all through the descent into intended chaos. They begin to share a collective suspicion that they are being lied to. This suspicion filters it's way through the many homes and workplaces and neighborhood pubs; anywhere and everywhere that people congregate and converse about the world they live in. This causes a great measure of conflict and polarization, in all of these locations, where people generally break into two camps and point their fingers each other. These camps are usually defined by some permutation of, “my country, right or wrong” and those who don't share that absolute state of Dumb-Ass. However, those who don't share that view, often have embraced all kinds of other stupidities and lies that hamper them just as effectively as, “my country, right or wrong”.

9/11 has hung there like some high school boy's ass in a school bus window, being generally ignored, due to the inconvenience of the thing. Knowing and saying that Israel and compromised members of the American leadership did 9/11, has generally conferred pariah status, on those motivated to say it. My own experience has been to say that I can prove it beyond dispute and then the response is one of any number of evasions that don't want to be confronted, with the evidence, because it is inconvenient and puts one in an uncertain state of being, in relation to the world around them.

Now though, you see that the idea of government involvement in 9/11 has gone pretty mainstream and the idea of Israel's involvement is, no doubt, being discussed under the radar, prior to increasingly appearing here and there and everywhere, until it's been established as reality. Along with this, as was already mentioned, that which has been holding the attention of the general public, is seen as a co-conspirator and accessory to the whole affair. It's all coming but it's coming like shit flowing uphill in January. Thankfully, a great many of us are engaged in the labor of assisting that shit on it's way uphill so that it can finally flow downhill, as well as back up through the toilets of the world, like some kind of scatologically obsessed, Lawnmower Man.

So far, endless war, brought about through false flag terrorism, done by the people bringing you endless war- ♫my endless war♫ (cue Lionel Richie and Diana Ross), along with pervasive, economic turmoil has managed to distract the focus of the general public but... sooner or later, there is nowhere to look, where you don't see the very people hiding in plain sight. When it becomes clear that Wall Street and The Central Bankers are behind the orchestrated financial clusterfuck, the connections to Zionism and Israel are patently obvious, like who controls the treasury of the US over past decades, like who the Central Bankers are, like who controls the media and like who is the cui bono, behind all the endless war? For whose benefit, were/are, these wars fought? What is Goldman Sachs? Who is Goldman Sachs? What happened to the Occupy Movement? Who runs the SLPC? Who controls all of the gay organizations? What is their purpose in this?

Their ubiquitous presence in all things devious and criminal, is breathtaking and the greatest weapon for bringing them down is the internet ...but... there is also cosmic destiny, which can only be avoided for so long and when Mr. Apocalypse is on the scene then, it's a fait accompli. Relentless, punishing, 'ground and pound' is Mr. Apocalypse's game plan. He's John Riggins, writ large. Yes, that John Riggins, who had dinner at the White House and got very drunk and crawled under the dinner table and grabbed Sandra Day O'Connor's leg, while calling her “Babe”. I can't remember all of the details. I guess it is something like George Herbert Walker Bush, throwing up in the Japanese, Prime Minister's lap. I don't know all the details but, ♫if you knew Sushi, like I know Sushi♫

By now we should know that the crack in the Liberty Bell is where the truth leaked out and turned into Dioxin in the water supply. Who's behind the Dioxin? Who brought us Agent Orange and all those uncool things that are the result of corporate indifference, to the good of the populace they feed off of? Then some group of 9 vultures, comes along and confers 'person-hood' on them. This is hubris writ large. It's the colossus of Rhodes still on his feet. It's Ozymandias and a host of other metaphors or fives and analogies up the wazoo and back in through the bathroom window.

Mr. Visible does 'ground and pound' too. Mr. Visible bangs the drum, cause Mr. Visible works for Mr. Apocalypse. Mr. Visible does not work for the corporations or the governments, or the religions. Therefore he does not owe fealty to any of them, nor does he get support from any of them, so there might be a downside, if you measure your life out in terms of acquisitions, titles and privilege. Then again, acquisitions, titles and privilege, may be the bending end of downsides, according to how it all works out, as in Cardinal Wolsey's speech;

“So farewell to the little good you bear me.
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness!
This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea of glory,
But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride
At length broke under me and now has left me,
Weary and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye:
I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have:
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again”.

Ah well, Cynara;

“Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,

Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,

When I awoke and found the dawn was gray:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,

Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,

Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion”.

Running out of things to say and putting the ball in your court; “still shaking it here, Boss”.


End Transmission.......

Visible sings: ♫ Peace ♫
'Peace' is track no. 4 of 10 on Visible's eponymous 'Les Visible' Music Album
Lyrics (pops up)



Obviously I did not make it to my passport renewal. Found out at the last minute that my photos were not meeting the new standards for size and there was no knowledge in my possession of where to get that photo taken when I got up in the morning and the appointment was early and it was Sunday on which I was traveling. I'll go again in a few days, fully prepared.