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Living In-Sane?

The World Wears Down The Thinker

The World Wears Down The Thinker

In Sane-ity?

I talked to a woman who lets me into a secret. There is a spaceship on the dark side of the moon. Aliens within the vessel are awaiting orders to invade earth and enslave the human race in order to take our remaining gold supplies.  Apparently, this has happened before. The story is not new. Slaves? I wonder. Most of us are already enslaved.

Parents once told me their children were ‘indigo’ children’. Specially selected and of supreme intelligence. I confess to being confused they looked like normal white kids to me and bored out of their tree as they had been watching super-hero DVD’s for most of the afternoon. I researched the ‘indigo children’ scene. It is a dubious phenomena and does not stand close scrutiny. A wishful parents hope to make their child special. Like the father who makes his eight year old child race a dirt bike, crazy, dirty and dangerous, a child living the parents dream. In any event I doubt being an indigo child will advantage them very much in this hard, hard world. “Hi, I’m an indigo child.” “That’s nice, I’m a grown up who has to attempt to live in the real world.” “Yes, but my mummy told me I’m special.”  “Shut the f#$k up and stack those shelves you idiot.” Indigo here we go if you have any common sense.

In Birmingham I ask a woman about sodium-bicarbonate being taken daily.  She is selling a book describing the diet and food additives which changed the Ph of the blood. Those with alkali blood become free of disease. Sufferer’s of cancer, she implies, would be cured with alkali blood. It is a miracle!  The woman believed my simple questions were antagonistic and BANG! Did she become offensive/defensive. Truth to tell up to that point I was interested in what she was selling, after that point and to this day mention PH blood to me and I’ll tell you why its the baloney of a phoney. “Hi I’m selling you a cure for cancer.” “I know about it, unfortunately it didn’t work for my friend Maureen who some moron had told her she had an allergy to electricity.”

I played with Tarot cards, Kaballah, read a million words of occult doctrine, prayed to god, researched past life regression and everything in-between. Nothing unprovable stokes the coals thought in the boiler of my mind. I am beginning to suspect that if a subject is uncertain, unstable or ‘occult’ spiritual, it is, in truth, just spaceships on the dark side of the moon.

I wish the aliens would come and take the gold supplies. It would be nice to have indigo colored children running around the planet and cancer cured with bi-carbonate of soda. Holy Jesus it would be more interesting than a celebrity not wearing any knickers at a pseudo award night or the worship of overpaid actors.

I listened to woman who talked to angels. I listened to another and another and another. As I listened messages they received, I discovered the messages from specific angels did not seem to be consistent. Maybe they hear the warnings (always seem to be warnings) from differing angles. A man (I could name him – I have the recording of the ‘talk’) claimed he conversed with Angel Gabriel as he drove to work, the celestial messenger told him the world was in danger! I do not need an idiot to pass on that message to me. I conclude Green Peace must be a choir of angelic hosts. If I was driving and an angel sat next to me I wonder if the conversation would be, “Watch how you’re driving, Ian,” I’d look at the good looking messenger and say, “Shouldn’t you be helping little starving children in Africa?” “No! I’ve a message for you to pass onto man kind,” “Do it yourself you lazy sod, now F#$k off.”

Do the angels weep? I should think they so! The celestial messengers information is non to hot at the moment. Try this for a message… ‘Suffer starving child no one cares about you!’ Is it possible though the starving child is a pot of intellectual gold?  If you open your mind you may discover the answer to the question. The staving child does hold the secret, the truth, the fact, the certainty. What is it? To be hungry and in agony is tragic – To be well fed and happy is wondrous. We know this, all of us know this and yet you use the minerals, gas, oil and resources of the African – South American continents and let the natives starve…

Monarch saviour of the masses holding court to sycophants, why do you let your servants down? You worshipped bastards of abject greed. Although I cannot blame you for your selfish attitude, you parasites of evil. You are as brainwashed as the woman who believes the aliens await. You know not hunger, live in warm castles, slaves fill your already overflowing coffers, idiots sacrifice their lives to protect you and fools worship you. Only the insane would walk away from a life like yours.  If only I had your power for a day, if only I had your power for a day…

So! "Fight Me" I care not.

So! “Fight Me” I care not.

Once (in England) the punishment for treason was death. The punishment for blasphemy was death. The punishment for cowardice was death. Take me back in time and hang me. I cause offence so track me down for my personal truths and fight me. See if I care. I am Traitor – Blasphemer – Coward – My words are of no consequence, all I can do is write my thoughts. And if not one agrees it matters not for my conscience speaks to me in kindness.

There are a few I hurt and they wish to reciprocate, do I care? There are a few who have desired and still desire to cause me problems because of essays like this, and if I were such an idiot why would my words concern them? Do I effect them? No! I control them because I anger them, chip away at their resolve to control other people. There are no secret answers, occult rituals or methods of magic which provide the answers to life. The truth is here now, today. Life is life, you live and you die. And the rich hold on to their wealth because it is the proof of their superiority, F#$k them. I despise their arrogance. The world starves and the rich feed at the trough of caviar swill.

What you think you are rich? If you have any form of credit or mortgage you are not rich, if you worry about your future in any way you are not rich, if you own just one property you are not rich. Get the message. The wealthy allow you to THINK you are rich, getting somewhere, progressing, have a future. There are those who have if they but knew it, capitulated, the hope of the impossible, the hope of controlling those who control them. Pray a million tears, the child still starves. Voodoo a capitalist, he still steals you land and oil. Occult your ritual you are still poor.

I’m living in an in sane world – Get it? In Sane world – Get it? Insane world. The population believe themselves in sanity and the way they live and the way they kill proves them to be crazy. Do not agree? That is fine. I’m not concerned because my reason overwhelms insane supposition. Each time I see a television news cast and watch the fighter jet or a drone kill or erase one of my countries enemies, I smile and think, “I did that” and so should you. When you see the soldier kill the terrorist smile and think, “I did that” even if you hate war and killing. When you see the nonsense acts of your government and establishment smile and think, “I did that” – Because sure as air is needed for life your taxes contributed to the killing. And no praying or listening to angels will stop the “I did that.”

Lets hope the aliens waiting in the cold silence of the dark side of the moon will rescue me soon…


My Favorite Invention

Bass Sign

Beer! I love it. The blond, the brown, the bubbly, the flat, the strong, the weak, every one has its wonderfully intoxicating flavor.

Bottled beer can be taken anywhere, you can chill it or drink it warm. From the bottle or poured into a glass, drink it quick, sip it and savor every drop. The twist off top or the crown which requires a bottle opener?  There are those who say the twist top breaks with tradition, others say its progress. The King of the crowns is the flip top, easily opened and resealable, it is a sign of real quality.

The labels are becoming works of art and have a history of symbolism, for example in times gone by the red triangle of the Bass bottle was the sign of the brewery for those who could not read. This is a famous beer, if you look at the picture by Edouard Manet titled “Bar at the Folies-Bergere” you will see the bottles of Bass opposite to the bottles of champagne. There was no food and drink snobbery in 1882 it seems!

Bar France

Beer has a long and nobel history, The invention of beer has been argued to be responsible for humanity’s ability to develop technology and build civilization. The earliest confirmed barley beer to date was discovered at Godin Tepe in the central mountains of Iran, where fragments of a jug, at least 5000 years old was found to coated with beer-stone (a by-product of the brewing process) beer-stone is a toxic and is a major constituent of human kidney stones, I pray to heaven there is no connection between the drinking of beer and the kidney stone.

Beer has no conscience, its by product called hang over cannot be avoided and “The hair of the dog” has become the route to alcoholism for so many. It can be drunk for pleasure or peril. Like the sea it will tempt the unwary into uncharted depths where the dangers of drunkenness and depravity await even the most level headed soul. The bubbling brew cares not for King or pauper, its effect proves the equality of man.

There are many who hate it for no other reason that it is evil or against gods wishes, they claim God invented all things good, the Devil all that is evil, beer is the devils work, just like the wars that are started in God’s name?

I find, when I drink my glass of beer wether in a pub with friends or at home alone, it expands my mind, some of my greatest inspirations have arisen from my personal unconscious mind when the beer has taken effect. At other times it dulls my brain, many a word spoken or an email sent which has been regretted the following day, and on reflection the words written or spoken were nearer to the truth than in the untruth of sobriety.

Many feel it is a waste of money, some live to drink it. Like many of life’s gifts, it is not a problem in moderation.

Oh! how I wish I could be just like a bottle of beer. Loved, unloved, desired, rejected, with different labels and crowns, savored for a moment and then left unloved for another type.

On reflection.

Perhaps I have become, like my favorite invention!

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