The Window

The saying goes that where God closes the door, he opens the window.  I used to think that expression was dumb.  But then, I used to think God was just a dumb word invented by dumb folk.

Now I understand God a bit better and that expression seems apropos.  Surely in these months of our Scamdemic we’ve seen a lot of closed doors.  We could point at them all day, and I get the appeal of that, really.

Or, we could search for the windows.  They are there, no doubt, dumb expression or not.

There are ones out there opening the windows, trying to make them easier for others to find them.  I really believe that.  Even if you told me with 100% scientific evidence that no one is out there trying to open any windows, maybe even because there aren’t any windows to open, I’d insist your science was wrong. 

That means my belief is more powerful to me than anyone else’s science.  Funniest thing about that is, it also means, if you can’t reason me out of it, you can’t shame me out of it either.

And that’s a window right there.  Here’s another one:

Plandemic

 

Sane Apertures

I promised myself this summer I’d spend more time learning about the practical, important things of life and less on theoretical things like conspiracy theories.  Then I realized, this is quite an impossible task, because they are one in the same.

I can’t express how irritating it is for me to listen and learn from some of the great gardening and homesteading podcasts out there who never discuss anything remotely controversial, even when it’s DIRECTLY related to their field, like WEATHER MODIFICATION.  This is not sane strategy.  Pretending something does not exist is not the same as if it really does not exist.

I know how this has culturally come about, because a denial of reality is written into the scriptures, quite literally.  The New Age movement, born from previous Christian cultures, have bred passivity, have elevated non-confrontation and worshipped weakness.  Avoidance and turning the other cheek and tolerating anything and everything without judgement (except of course those who use their discernment, aka built-in bullshit meter) have become the signs of virtue in this collective insanity quickly falling into psychological tyranny.

These are the folks currently wearing masks of shame on their faces.  And this is not only a virtue signal, but a fashion statement.  Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I have no words.  But, I was raised under a similar guise of masking, which insisted: “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”  Are folks finally beginning to understand where this level of gagging the voice leads us?

According to the ‘Authorities’ your very breathe is like diarrhea and that’s why you need to wear a diaper over your mouth. They sell you a cover story, and indeed make an industry of it, because that’s what you’re asking for, you adult children.

In case you care to GROW UP from this insanity and hear some rational voices telling it like it is, here’s just a very short list of the brilliance awaiting the courageous individual.

“Saturn has moved back into Capricorn where it will transit until December 17th. Saturn is the planet of boundaries, stuctures, and authority and its brief transit through Aquarius brought us social distancing and limits on freedom. In Capricorn, Saturn is in domicile and feels right at home. Both Saturn and Capricorn appreciate the value of tradition and conservatism and Saturn in this cardinal earth sign reminds us that true happiness comes from maturity, family values, hard work and self sufficiency, not communism or the glorification of victimhood. Weakness is less likely to be rewarded during this transit and expecting others to pick up the bill will result in failure and hard karmic lessons.

The actions of the extreme far left are turning many people towards conservative political parties which I predicted back in 2017 when Saturn entered Capricorn for the first time. Saturn in Capricorn is bad news for the U.S rioters who foolishly think that they can push the U.S into Marxism, as they distance themselves even further from the silent majority who are tired of these disturbances to their daily lives.” www.FionaAedgar.com 

Imagine, if you will, you are among like-minded, mask-free sane folks enjoying a glorious holiday weekend?!  And you have so much gravy to share, you make it available to the whole wide world.  WOW, now that’s virtue!

Imagine, I know this one is really hard, but still I try.  You know the willful ignorance, and learned helplessness is what will destroy you, destroy us all, and you still care enough, have enough compassion for your destroyers, to still try to save them.  That’s Carol, getting kicked out of her apartment, like so many.

 

“Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death….” Thomas Paine

“Under a tyranny, most friends are a liability. One quarter of them turn “reasonable” and become your enemies, one quarter are afraid to stop and speak, and one quarter are killed and you die with them. But the blessed final quarter keep you alive.”  Sinclair Lewis, It Can’t Happen Here

Compassion Minus Consent

I’m something of a stickler for words, but what can I say, when you teach foreign languages for two decades a fetish for ‘le mot juste’ just comes with the territory.

Furthermore, when you love being a student as much as I do, it’s expensive to disagree with your teachers.  On the other hand, it’s far more expensive to not disagree when I think a disagreement is in order.

Which brings me back to a recent post where I disagree with my current favorite teacher, James True.  I don’t think I was persuasive enough in my argument, because he tried to shame me with group-think in front of the whole class (by class I mean his YouTube audience).  It didn’t work though, because my love of words is far stronger than my capacity for shame, or group-think.

I lie awake at night thinking about such things.  In the wee hours, that is usually between 2 and 3 am, I often get inspiration in the form of annoying insomnia.  It’s a fairly small price to pay for what occasionally turns out to be a spectacular insight.

So, I’m trying again, Professor True, to convince you to shift your expression ‘Compassion is not consent’ because I think it’s not accurate.  Embedded in the word compassion is consent.  Its etymology is ancient, unlike more modern words like empathy.  But, I already mentioned that in my first failed attempt to persuade.

And, I don’t want to just negate the expression, because I think I understand what is meant and the sentiment behind it.  Instead, I’d like to offer what I think is a more precise phrase in order to refine it.

Consider instead, if you please: “Compassion minus consent.”

Here’s why.

Understanding is based in intellect.  Empathy/sympathy is emotionally-centered.  But compassion comes from the core. I think so far the good professor would agree, because he talks often about the importance of being seated in one’s pelvis, though he uses more colorful expressions for that fact.

I believe these subtle differences in expression have considerable impact and can be used by nefarious powers against the greatest intentions and wills of man.  A couple of examples:

“We are all One” or “We are all in this together” is a kind of bastardization of an absolute truth: Everything is connected.  We live in a holistic system.  I believe this means that in the mind of man is buried the ancestral wisdom of all ages.  I believe this is true because I’ve experienced it personally.  Someday I’ll have the skill to express it.  But I don’t yet.

I believe this is also what NDE (near death experience) is about.  There is an ‘extended consciousness’ realm and I do believe some folks are able to move between these realms (sometimes against their will or comprehension).  We used to call it shamanism and try to cultivate it, now we call it schizophrenia and try to control it.  Professor True has several excellent posts on this topic.

Another example: “All we need is love” or the myriad variations that have bombarded us for several generations through art, film, books, music.  I’ve already said my piece on this a couple of times, so I won’t rehash it again.

I’m all for love and compassion.  I just think to saturate the culture with it or suggest it’s the magic bullet to end our social woes is actually undermining it.  True love and compassion should be earned and dished out sparingly.  Empathy, sympathy, understanding should be extended as far and wide as humanly possible.  Kindness, care and concern should be liberally applied, perhaps even where it’s not deserved.

And compassion, minus consent, is something awesome I could aspire to—I know it won’t be easy—but it seems to me a worthy goal of an enlightened social order.

In any case, these men are totally crushing in this best Apocalypse ever, and are so much more entertaining than this post.  Do something both fun and healthy for yourself on Father’s Day and check them out!

The Wandering Jew & the Lucky Bamboo

The Wandering Jew & The Lucky Bamboo: A Fictional Conspiracy Theory

Do you understand the plants are made just like that? Compare them to the ones that were like, painstakingly crafted?

If you knew there was a difference, would you wonder who crafted it, and how, or even why?

Did you know the sandwhich, the olive, the vodka, were all crafted? Of course you did.

But did you know also was the potato, the tulip, the rose, even the honeybee?

That I hate going to the dentist is no mystery. But in some States, particularly in the South, it seems, sedation is an option. Now I hate going to the dentist slightly less than before, as in all my way too long functional memory. On the gas, there is some enlightenment, as you’ll see.

Twice now I’ve been to the dentist since the Plandemic, because I have dental issues since childhood, not to mention dental trauma, from the choking fluoride treatment molds that tormented me every six months for a decade. That I found these treatments horrific is considered a mental weakness on my part. That my mom paid for them from her hard-earned wages, and trusted them, breaks my heart to this day.

Now they’ve required me to sign a checklist that I have no symptoms of the Covid during these last two visits where only the gas, and lovely company of kind women, guard my fragile acquiescence .

At these days they’ve also insisted on taking my temperature via a digital thermometer directed precisely at my 3rd eye.

That is, the pineal gland. Little do they know, I’m sure, the conspiracy theories that surround that teeny-tiny gland. Right behind the directed laser pointed right there, to which they are given a number, as if that is the only signal that instrument is designed to relate. And as if they would know any other reason why this instrument is now being more normalized than the obscene body scanners at the airport.

I hate dentists, so much so that my latest dentist is my heroine. She gets what honest dentist-hate is like. She commends my stoicism in the chair, bless her heart. I honor her sacrificial hours and delicate sensitivity which I recognize as akin to artistry. She really is someone worthy of far more than her title. I like her, and I’m not being even remotely sarcastic. I can hardly imagine what it’s like to be a woman like that.

“Feelings are considered to be internal human structure and architecture.  But what you imagine and create are far more important—and the creative process radically and naturally changes feelings in a positive way, as a side effect.” Jon Rappaport

On the gas, I reflect, and tears flow, beyond my knowing, how. They are so kind, they see, they don’t define. Are you ok? Yes, I am, right here, right now, I am ok. And I see how flimsy that is this sedated happy feeling in the here and now.

Are you? Are y’all? Is that enough? Is that ok? Do you load yourself with duty and then pray you’ll sleep and have enough still to spend another day?

Would you have enough pity, prana, love, care, energy, to say . . .

Would you really like to know what it was like for me, in the pit, today?

I did not get the impression s/he did. Bypassing is our only call of fame. From the pedestal the pit cannot be understood. There is no degree of compassion that might pacify the pit.

Because you see, in the pit, your compassion is where I most love to shit.

That you preach how I should feel makes it that much more worse
But you praise and anoint yourselves with kudos and more books

It is an annoying block to enlightenment for those who perpetually misunderstand. And are misunderstood.

“If I do not describe the details of our work it is because we were busied with things which lie beyond speech and which therefore elude the spell that words exert. But everyone will remember how his mind has labored in regions which he cannot portray, whether it were in dreams or in deep thought. It seemed as if he were groping for the right road in labyrinths or sought to unravel the figures among the patterns of an optical illusion. And often he awoke wonderfully strengthened. This is where our best work takes place, and so it seemed to us, too, that in our struggle speech was still inadequate, and that we must penetrate into the depths of the dream if we were to withstand the threat against us.”

The cynicism that regards all hero worship as comical is always shadowed by a sense of physical inferiority.” Occulture: The Unseen Forces That Drive Culture Forward by Carl Abrahamsson

That Greater Good

S/he who has spent each day of life in excess
Tells me what makes happiness
And then expects me
to accept

S/he who has spent an eternity
Stringing hearts and sipping wine
Just sweeping cobwebs makes them flee

Imagine what toil would bring working 7 x 7
Blocked in this cell H called Time
still undefined, yet quite refined

Distanced from death, pumped and sterilized
For maximum effect
Selling that golden dawn
Singing spare the silly sparrows and
Let the lambs roam free

Call on LORD technology
Or your local shrink, shaman, clergy
Or any other shark to guppy

You play capture the
Scream of the butterfly
As if consent wills

Heart or nature’s lie

You will not win
But to prevail
For a fort-night
Is fine for tempests pay

Trap it
Milk it
Right where it’s at
That greater good
Well played plant

A fair fly trap
Crow to know
One day
The wisdom of our
Dismay

 

 

Crowd the Bubble

Handy Hubby claims he’s becoming a social distancing bully.

I think he’s becoming a perfect disciple of civil disobedience and further honing his already natural aptitudes in that essential discipline. He complied with Costco’s face mask dumbass police-y, but at least he makes it expensive for the collective in so doing.

The corporations will only respond to strong collective action, strong collective action can only be flamed by the torch of the strong individual.

So, of his own accord, he chose to crowd the bubble. He wore the mask, because we have a fetish for bulk shopping, and I hate shopping. He took another one for the team.

He just made a few of his own rules along the way.  Like, once a shopper’s indecision caused him a moment’s annoyance, he broached the six-foot distancing zone, causing enough discomfort for the shopper to stop hemming and hawing and make a choice already, so he could move in for his kill.

I’ve already mentioned in many posts he’s nearly an expert marksman. He shops the same way he shoots, which was the same way he seduced me—move in quietly, have a concise agenda, work fast, take no prisoners.

As further recrimination, he repeatedly pulled down his mask.  Why would he pull such a stunt?  Oh, just because he couldn’t breath.  Well, I guess breathing is considered the entire reason for social distancing these days, so mark that another winner!

For my part, I slowly, oh so slowly, basked in the empty aisles of my favorite antique store, touching everything of even remote interest.  I filed longingly through several old books and bought a few, with cash.  Then I put another few items on credit card, and watched as the clerk, who knows me now, because she knows I love it there, use hand sanitizer.  I said, “You know, I know you’re following police-y, but that stuff is not good for you.”  She confided, I know, I’m just trying to be cautious and accommodating.  I said, with a wink, refill the bottle with lavender-scented water and aloe vera gel , no one will suspect a thing.

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Recently, one of Hubby’s passengers was tested positive for the cornholio, now he’s lying in the hammock drinking beer for breakfast. This is what quarantine looks like here at Chez Shell, aka Kensho Homestead.

Thanks Corporatocracy! Greatest Apocalypse Ever!

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I will end here and now blessed with a river of knowing in this song, passed along through the hands of one receptive woman, and in deep bows to those who are waving along the banks as I flow, have inspired me, challenged me, caused me the pain and chaos that sparks my flame, as an individual, passing, in wisdom.

And occasionally, with great and aching discernment, even very selective gratitude.

Be The Gates

You really want to help humanity?
You think you know how?
Wanna save the world, do ya?

Save men’s souls?

Be the Gates

That’s right

Just like Bill-fucking-Gates
The man you love to hate
Be Him.

Enter his soil-soul
And sing his story

Make him an Honorable Man.
Tell him, Thank you, sir,
May WE have another.

Please, sir, force your will upon us
And convince us, it’s for our own Good.

We love you Lord technology.
You remind us every day
We can’t even handle the raccoons

 

Do we really create our own problems?

It’s all how you look at it.  Every challenge is an opportunity.  You reap what you sow. That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.  It’s a spiritual battle.  Staying positive is essential.  Crisis is a gift.

I’m glad to know a precious few who find these platitudes repulsive.  Most of the folks who repeat them call themselves good Christians or Course of Miracles brand New Agers.

Well, but, you have to make the best of it, right! What else can you do?  That’s called Enlightenment these days, by the way.  I guess I used to be quite Enlightened, but now I’m terribly Embittered.

That boy born with one eye is actually lucky because he got to develop his ‘cosmic sense’.  Same with that boy whose doctor gave him a vaccine that gave him polio—having only one leg is a true growth opportunity.  Autism’s just another word for special.

It’s like the Cat Stevens song I used to teach my English as a foreign language students for a fun lesson of translating lyrics—Moonshadow—“If I ever lose my legs, I won’t cry and I won’t beg.”  (Great for teaching vocabulary.  Maybe not so great for living actual life.)

No, of course not, who needs legs, because, then you’ll sing, right?  You’ve still got your vocal cords, maybe that, along with one hand, and you can start a revolution from your bed.  Who needs to eat really, either?  You know there are spiritual masters who live in caves for years without eating.

Really? Good for them!

Honestly those repeating such nonsense to someone who would’ve really just lost their legs need to ask themselves who they are helping—because I’d bet the ranch they do it to make themselves feel more comfortable when confronted with another’s tragedy.  Don’t worry, be happy!  Because you’re just simply a dull jackass when you’re not.

Getting canned means you can follow your dream career now.  Wearing a mask means you’re saving the elderly and the children, don’t you feel heroic.  Just keep pushing the boulder up that mountain, and when it comes back down, do it again.  You’ll get used to it, we promise.

You think you know something about life? About pain? About darkness? You who sit comfie on your cushion and traveled India on a trust fund?  Did you have to skip a meal one day, oh so sorry, that must’ve been so tough.  Do you fast, by choice? Was that divorce difficult? You poor dear, but now you’re so woke, so it was worth it, right?

Spin. Spin. Spin.  To all those wanna-be alchemists and magicians chomping at the bit out there, that’s not transmutation, just fyi, that’s sugar-coating.  But don’t worry, you’ll eventually figure that out, because as soon as you experience actual, real-life, pain and suffering, those platitudes and fake attitudes will make you nauseated, finally.  Or at least I hope.

Let me tell you a smidgeon of actual truth, for every one person who manages to make and sell their lemonade crafted from chaos, there are dozens more who don’t. You’re welcome.

But still, tell the controllers, thank you.  Repeat, three times daily ‘Thank you sir, may I have another?’

Follow with seven times ‘Mantra of Slave Class’—A.A.S.S—Adapt, Adopt, Serve, Smile. And Love it! Big smiles!

Until we say, “No Smiles!” About Face. Adopt Mask.

In fact, there’s no easy path for the truly righteous few.  You’ve got to get your hands dirty.  You’ve got to discard the cushions and rainbows and unicorns and silver linings.

Now, with all that proper bitchiness said, here’s the real rub.  I think James True is spot on—This is the Greatest Apocalypse Ever! 

More on that in the next far more pleasant post. 😉

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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5EC15196-DC3F-41AD-81D2-8C6F00BDD837

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

 

Take Control of Your Soul

“Don’t let them take your mind, man.”  Conspiracy Music Guru (aka Flat Earth Man)

That tablet, that TV, that hand-held radiation device.  Put it down.  Take a walk.  Let me try to inspire that action.

A68FCAFD-D6B5-4566-826B-5C44594BCB59Texas squaw weed, the bees like it, stop mowing it and spraying it with poison, please.

This sh*t, my greatest garden/forest nemesis, I pull it, smash it, dig it up, even spray it, with sadistic pleasure.  Luckily, sheep and goats love it, so soon it will go from invasive weapon of torture to practically eradicated effortlessly on this wee homestead.

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Poison ivy, run for your life!

Don’t let them take your mind.  You think Flat Earth theory is weird?  What about that which you are living right now, seem weird at all?  Natural?  Normal? Do you like the world you’re co-creating all around you?

There’s another world.  There’s another way.  It doesn’t have to be like this.  Trade your prison walls for a glimpse of what’s really REAL.

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Serviceberry, Juneberry, Amalanchier arborosa, ‘discovered’ on our property for the first time, always something new!

Pretend for one hour the earth is flat, right beneath your feet, the screen is an illusion, cyberspace is just that, space.  Walk on the flat earth under your feet and feel what life on a flat earth feels like, just for an hour, just because, really, what else of consequence are you really doing right now?

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Vetch, another spring-blooming so-called ‘nuisance’ weed the bees like, but the farmers don’t.

Mullein makes great toilet paper, fyi.  Try shopping your local forest.  😉

mullein