4.20.20

Dear Baby Jesus,
may the Mighty Lords hear that
I do not consent!
My ancestors and brethren,
I do Concur, if had so consented,
did so Only under great Duress.

I don’t need chants or songs or vigilance to say simply
I do not consent!

I don’t need stomps or guns or fear of pestilence

Simply, truly, I do not consent!

Mark it, now, this day of your fake calendar event

To whatever twisted laws you’re still employing, truly

Fuck Off!

Period. End your story!

Drop those masks, and bow Before Me

For Nevermore will I implore thee
or any of your
Trauma masks
forever tranced
Before Me
NEVER

Technotron

Devils don’t want your invitation
Invite them in, with a sly grin

Cross this threshold, speak
With a nod, and a wink
Then watch them slink

Like bullies faced
No robbers chased

Just malingering fellows
Soon disgraced

They ride bicycles and tricycles
And hide upstage
like big, fat fools

Those left shoe ad-vices
Dices of lost reveries
knights and damsels
Still missing thee

Like troubadours sailing
Spin doctors full of bull
Aloft of air and ritual

When the parachute fails
The umbrella breaks
The entourage scurries

You’ll find in a hurry

Re-bowed to fake eternity
Teched into docility

Herded like sacrificial goats
Stampeded by sheep
Toward Tech’s moats

Made of sweet fragility

Bitch Discernment 101

She’s got Schlitz Malt Liquor, but
I’ve got a garden beyond your wildest imagination

She’ll make you hungover, but
I’ll make you wish you were dead

She unconsciously hates your lion, poisons him daily
I sneak him chunks of liver under the gate

And loosen the screws when no one’s looking

She says, “Shame on you!”
I say, “Bullshit!”

She says, ”You don’t deserve me.”
Out of spite.
I say, “I promise not to say I told you so.”
Out of respect.

She thinks you’ll drown out there
I think you’ll walk on water

She secretly covets your weakness
Because it makes her feel needed

I secretly covet your strength

Secretly, because
Check-mate

The Vacant Gaze – ‘The Days of Our Virus’ — Dispatches from the Asylum

“What kind of fucking lunacy has invaded the collective psyche?”

Waiting for some fairy-tale ending to the current f**kery of us all, where political morons proclaim from their thrones, vomiting their bile upon the masses – where they might decree, at some point, in the future, to partially re-open our lives to that which they had no legitimate authority to shut down in the first […]

via The Vacant Gaze – ‘The Days of Our Virus’ — Dispatches from the Asylum

Humanity Is NOT a Virus

An awesome, inspiring, common sense, philosophical, funny conversation between two men almost as awesome as my man!

What’s the prana economy?  What’s homesteading life like? How is it so many just can’t/won’t/will never lift the veil? What’s up with the masks?  And lots more very compelling content!

Not Fallen, Descended

They’re not there to pick you up
In fact it’s just the opposite

Like the little lamb stuck for
A split second before momma struts,
Then taps, then pounds, the ground
1 in 9, she hits, that sound

All the world’s your stage
In those tiny walls

Silly willies strutting through your mini malls
while calypso music streams,
in your fetid wet dreams

Those worn seams on your mini-skirt
Seems to have attracted a micro-stream,
scream, ding-a-ling,

Ding-dong. Macro-aggression. 
Master then micro-control your shamalangadingdong

Everything I sing will be to your misgiving
Micro-offense, to give the chance of defense

Rather than spell your negligence
Rock on the wall of your space fence

Even the old ladies speak of your diligence
Those frogs-a’cooking make a mad stench

Then, rock the wall of dense S-Oil
See who lasts a fortnight
Or, at all

Why?
Not because we care, at all
If, Boredom as our Master never spoke
Or, Soul as our deepest Mystery never woke

 

Another Swarm!

We must thank our lucky stars once again.  Last post we caught our first swarm right in the garden, and if that wasn’t easy enough, this one flew right into our trap, as if guided by the Divine!

Positioned high in a pine tree with lovely views of open pasture, lightly seasoned with a few drops of lemon grass essential oil, move-in ready with two frames of fully drawn comb, and violà, our first volunteer tenants.

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Apparently they were not privy to any shelter-in-place sort of order.

Guess who else is not abiding by the social distancing commands from their government . . .

And these crazy rebels, well, it’s just shocking how little they care . . .

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Bubba does not respect their Authorité!

Buttercup doesn’t know what psy-op even means!  Whaaaa?!?

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That is not 6 feet, re-education camp for you!

Last night Tori came to me in a dream and stated matter-of-factly, “I’ll take ‘em all down, easy-peasy, just lemme at ‘em!”

torinpups

And I replied, “No, each must choose for himself, otherwise we just get more tyranny.”

“LORD Technology is Saturn Worship. It’s the religion of slavery and narcissism. All academia, governments, and courts are Saturn worship. Christ is real. But people are worshiping a human sacrifice. He was the Passover Lamb. To give him your prana is to feed it to the owners of the ritual. The True Cross, or Christ, is a spiritual astringent – the most crucial archetype you can have to survive Saturnism. Christianity is a government trauma cult made by Saturnalians to keep you docile, meek, egoless, and dumb. The Bible was a relic of LORD Technology written to gaslight you. The book sucks all of your cosmology about God into the black hole of scripture. It’s a vacuum where your creativity and prana are sucked into deep space where it can do nothing forever.

I hope this clears things up. After all – this is the Apocolypse.”  James True

 

Silver Lining: Corona Communism Helps You Lose Weight – LewRockwell — MCViewPoint

Venezuela too has a weight loss plan that has resulted from the once prosperous country’s own experiment with communism. Venezuelans lost 19 lbs in 2016. The intelligentsia, Neil Ferguson among them, has proposed an 18-month quarantine that is being rolled out to the public a few weeks at a time, as a temporary measure. You’re […]

via Silver Lining: Corona Communism Helps You Lose Weight – LewRockwell — MCViewPoint

“Leaving individuals to their own devices allows the world to work pretty darn well. Central planners tend to poison virtually anything that they touch. The more powerful the central planner, the more toxic their touch. The more vital the industry they touch, the more toxic their touch. This lesson has been taught repeatedly throughout history and often requires use of arms by the more down-to-earth common folk for the intelligentsia and central planners to knock it off.

Somehow, America, the nation of immigrants, has not taken the time to learn the horrors that their ancestors escaped from. These horrors took place at the hands of central planners, and Americans have increasingly turned their country over to central planners.”

 

Wheel of Fortune III: My First Swarm

What an exciting day, indeed!  I can hardly contain myself.  Not only did I catch my first swarm, but it was in my own garden!  Soo, another miracle?

Like I said in my first Wheel of Fortune posts, I think miracles are mostly amazing synchronicities that turn out in one’s favor.  The distance between it becoming a tragedy or a miracle is 33 degrees, give or take.  Or so I’m guessing.

What had to come together for the easiest, beginner’s luck swarm experience, perhaps ever, in the history of East Texas?!

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First, Handy Hubby had to be not only home, which happens only half the year, but also helping me in the garden, which happened this morning for the first time in months.  He’s been very busy finishing the fencing for the expanded pasture, which he did just finish, and it’s a beautiful accomplishment for which I’m also excited and sending him big applause.  Then, he outdid himself, once again, in his usual non-chalant manner.

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He said something incomprehensible to me from the back of the garden, I said what, he said, again, something incomprehensible, followed by ‘swarm’, which I did hear, but that was still confusing because the likelihood of a bee swarm at the back of the garden didn’t register at all, so I assumed he meant more ants, that is fire ants, that are so bad this spring we’ve succumbed to poisoning them, with manufactured chemicals. No, I’m not proud.

“Just come here,” he urged, which made me think it must really be an exceptionally impressive ant hill, not that surprising.

But no!  A decent sized swarm, right there, ripe for the picking.  And, Handy Hubby right there to help, and their discoverer.

 

We maneuvered them from the fence to the hive without a hitch.

Might it have been from one of our own hives?  Possibly, but that doesn’t diminish the joy even slightly.  They are now happily re-nesting in a top-bar hive which had mysteriously died a month ago, very much to my disappointment.  I never found the time to post about that, though I’d planned to.

What a difference a magical month can make!