"Money Doesn't Make The World Go Round. It Looks Like it Makes The World go Round, and that is All That Matters."

God Poet Transmitting.......

Every day comes one more exposure on the heels of another... unless you go to CNN or The Washington Post where... shit-eating mushrooms die in a democracy of darkness. There... and in other places... you will find the Glyphosate Pablum... the simpering whines of reunion... among the sainted hostages... a gaggle of Myna Birds with their beaks out... in search of a wetting.

The Horrors of Hamas; a kind of X-rated “Perils of Pauline”... by way of Candida (sp?), and her clubfooted sister Chlamydia... will be a new serialized release from not-so-Random House, BUT... the gig is up. As I was told... have been told several times in recent days that everything they get up to now is going to turn against them. Humanity is on one side and The Armies of Darkness are on the other.

One of them is emergent. The other is fading into the indigo soup of recycling error... frogmarched by the footsoldiers of Lord Stupid, and other blue-bloods from the lineage of Almost Human. When the time comes... and... the time has come. There are no further negotiations. Letters of appeal will not be accepted. It simply begins to crumble away. It was all based on nothing and Nothing has left the room.

We have sat in that awful darkness of never-ending night... waiting on the dawn... waiting on the dawn. Jim Morrison is singing it backwards on a record somewhere... the words are different... the meaning is the same, and then... when nearly all of us had forgotten why we were even there... light began to break upon the sky. No one wants to believe it. It is still early days. No doubt it is a false dawn.

Rumors run amok in every direction as if Sybil were playing Paul Revere. The messages are like each fragmented identity, independent of every other. One says this... another says that. Rumors echo off each temporary facade. It's a kind of hall of mirrors... banging on the walls of the inner ear. Everyone can hear something. No one can understand what they are hearing. This is because the huge engines of cosmic change are being lined up on the far side of the hill... under the cover of all that fucking noise.

Do I look like I work here? Go find somebody with a name tag! Then you'll be right as rain. You'll be bobbing for road apples with your Uncle Bob the avuncular nightmare. The rumor machine is smoking like an industrial fire. It can't keep up with the demand.

Everyone wants to know something. It doesn't matter if it's true or not. (it never did) They just want to be able to tell anybody who asks them... something. It's the appearance of being informed that makes all the difference. Do these pince-nez glasses make me look pear-shaped in the moonlight? Is the wind in your withers yet? There's a cold excitement coming in like the early morning mist on the hillsides, behind which the huge engines of cosmic change are concealed.

When big things start to break down, all you notice at first is that the workmen are moving a little faster than usual. Not as many people are leaning on their shovels... as if the union rep was in town. It takes a while. When the last of the oil leaks out of the car... it doesn't seize up right away. In the best conditions, you might get 40 miles down the road. It's a process. It takes time. We are at that point where the lubricating grease has run out. Sooner or later the inevitable will occur.

Meanwhile, there is a lot of shouting and yelling. People are waving their hands. The really important people are acting like absolutely nothing out of the ordinary is happening, BUT... you would expect that. The really corrupt money all just got behind the loose cannon, burlesque queen Nikki Haley, so... there are real problems in The Backroom.

When you put Nikki Haley's name in a search engine. One of the choices that comes up is; Nikki Haley's daughter is a pig. I wonder what that means?

As you should know. As you should have been knowing for a long time already, IT'S ALL ABOUT THE MONEY!!! It has ALWAYS been all about the money because the people with the most money get to tell the people with not as much money what to do, and... they get to tell the people with even less money what to do, and I suppose that is supposed to take the sting out of the party of the first part.

Without money, there's no Power. How is anyone with power going to pay the soldiers that go around with them everywhere... showing how powerful they are... so that they keep marching behind them (or in front of them) whichever way they are going? How are you going to be rich and powerful without money? Well... I am exceedingly rich and do not have much money, BUT... that's another story.

In The Unreal World... if you want to be powerful... you have to have money. Money is the muscle and sinew that makes you look steroidal... even if you are not. Money confers aura. Money makes you look like someone... even if you are not.

One of the funniest things going is that there are a whole lot of billionaires, and many, many more multimillionaires... and way, way more millionaires. Can you imagine how many of these are goosestepping around in whatever pond gets assigned to them by The Lords of Karma at any one time?

Money DOES NOT make The World go round. It makes it look like it makes The World go round, and that's all that matters. APPEARANCES are the real currency that makes money look impressive.

Now... that the oil... which is the currency of motion... is leaking out of the car... I'm sure everyone is taking bets on how much further the car is going to manage to get. There's a strange pressure conundrum at work here, and that is the fact that everyone laying bets has also got to make sure and be out of town when the car's engine seizes.

Any day now... it's going to be finger-pointing time. It's not Dark Brandon's fault. He's just an empty suit with the front pockets of his pants cut out. He's the window dressing in a looted store. The people who set him up knew what they thought they were doing. That's how Kamala became vice president. No one wants to go there because everyone else has already been there.

Boy! It looks like someone set every dumpster in The World on fire at the same time. Now I hear the Democrats are thinking of putting Bruce Willis on the ticket. No one knows what they are doing all of a sudden. They never knew it in the first place but it hadn't occurred to them. Now it has. That pretty much takes fake it till you make it off the menu. I can't wait for the musical chairs blame game that is about to start.

Everything is coming down on them at once. Ukraine wasn't going well anyway and then America's bankers had to go and do a false flag. Then The Killer Vaccines hit Broadway. I hear Pfizer just lost 144 billion in market value because no one wants what they were making anymore. How are they... how are any of them supposed to spin that? The Justice Department is getting reamed in Congress; probably why no one is covering it. I mean... everything is going haywire all at the same time.

Who is causing all of this? That question keeps coming to mind. Oh! Of course, I know who's causing it but I like to keep asking anyway. I'll bet they are asking!!! Heh heh... they only believe in what they can see (and imagine), and this means they are stone blind to the important features. This gives rise to uncertainty... that gives rise to paranoia... that... inevitably leads to panic. Right now, it's a white-knuckled ride. Probably time to pour a little more oil into The Athanor... but they don't know what that is either.

It has to be amusing if you have any kind of remote-viewing faculties. The people above them are yelling at them. They are yelling at the people below, and the question keeps returning to their minds; how did it all turn to shit so quickly? Well... that's what reverse alchemy results in. That's what a reversed Kabbalah produces.

Eventually, the demons get the upper hand. It is far better to traffic with angels. Good things happen when you are being advised by your own higher nature. Bad things happen when you go to... ♫ the fire down below ♫

Everything is under control. That is the beauty of it. That is the poetry of it. Everything fits when you are putting things in their right places... in their right order, OR... put another way... everything goes perfectly when you don't interfere with The Process. Everyone gets everything that is coming to them, even if they leave town or change their name to Harry Angel. Even if they manage to forget who they are, you can be sure they will be reminded at some point.

End Transmission.......

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The Cross and the Crucifixion