Chapel Perilous (now with 5% more lunacy!)

•September 3, 2013 • 9 Comments

twins of evil 1971 Alter naked wallpaper 1000.

Welcome to Chapel Perilous, lost children.

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All are invited to mass, few attend.

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The girls are preparing the altar, and we will begin shortly.

Now all rise for Pastor tiki as we start with an opening hymnal.

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The organists can be found here.

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It’s been

One week since you looked at me

Cocked your head to the side and said “I’m angry”

Five days since you laughed at me

Saying, “Get that together, come back and see me”

Three days since the living room

I realized it’s all my fault but couldn’t tell you

Yesterday you’d forgiven me

But it’ll still be two days till I say I’m sorry

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Hold it now and watch the hoOdwinK

As I maKe you stop, thinK

You’ll thinK you’re loOKing at Aquaman

I summon FISH to the dish, although I liKe the Chalet Swiss

I liKe the sushi ’cause it’s never touched a frying pan©

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Hot liKe wasabe when I bust rhymes, big liKe Leann Rimes

Because I’m ALL about value

Bert Kaempfert’s got the mad™ hits, you try to match wits

You try to hold me but I bust through

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Gonna maKe a breaK and taKe a faKe I’d liKe a stinKin’ achin’ shaKe I liKe vanilla it’s the finest of the flavors

Gotta SEE the show ’cause then you Know the vertigo is gonna grow ’cause it’s so dangerous you’ll have to sign a waiver

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How can I help it when I think you’re funny when you’re mad?

Trying hard not to smile though I feel bad

I’m the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral

Can’t understand what I mean?

Well, you soon will

I have a tendency to wear my mind on my sleeve

I have a history of taking off my shirt

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It’s been

One week since you looked at me

Threw your arms in the air and said “You’re crazy”

Five days since you tackled me

I’ve still got the rug burns on both my knees

It’s been three days since the afternoon

You realized it’s not my fault and not a moment too soon

Yesterday you’d forgiven me

And now I sit back and wait till you say you’re sorry

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ChicKety China, the Chinese chicKen

You have a drumsticK and your brain stops ticKin’

Watching X-files with no lights on, we’re dans la maison

I hope the SmoKing Man’s in this one

LiKe Harrison Ford I’m getting Frantic

LiKe Sting® I’m Tantric

LiKe Snickers, guaranteed to satisfy

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Like Kurosawa I maKe mad films, OK I don’t maKe films

But if I did they’d have a samurai

Gonna get a set of better CLUBS, gotta find the Kind with tiny nubs just so my irons aren’t always flying off the bacK swing

Gotta get in tune with Sailor Moon ’cause that cartoOn has got the BOOM! anime babes that maKe me thinK the wrong thing (π)

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How can I help it when I think you’re funny when you’re mad?

Trying hard not to smile though I feel bad

  I’m the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral

Can’t understand what I mean?

You soon will

I have a tendency to wear my mind on my sleeve

I have a history of losing my shirt

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It’s been

One week since you looked at me

Dropped your eyes to the side and said “I’m sorry”

Five days since I laughed at you

And said, “You just did just what I thought you were gonna do”

Three days since the living room

We realized we’re both to blame, but what could we do?

Yesterday you just smiled at me

‘Cause it’ll still be two days till we say we’re sorry

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It’ll still be two days till we say we’re sorry

It’ll still be two days till we say we’re sorry

Birchmount Stadium home OF the Robbie

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“One Week”

Barenaked Ladies

_________________________________

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You may be seated. Thank you all for coming.

Not that long ago, when I enjoyed watching the television show Family Guy, I would often reference the show with a co-worker who enjoyed it as well.

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Remember when Peter and Lois went to that KISS fan-fest, and it was revealed that Lois had previously slept with Chaim Witz, um I mean, Gene Simmons? 

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cp kiss_family_guy_.

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At least Family Guy thankfully reminded us of just how Jewish and gay KISS really is.

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cp Kiss faces

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You keep on shouting, you keep on shouting….

I….  wanna build a thirty year career off one song….

and party every day!

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But that is not the point, children. You see, every time I referenced a certain scene like the one above, that exact scene would be broadcast on the syndicated late night repeat of Family Guy that night on my TV. I didn’t have a TV guide and never knew what episode it would be in advance, therefore I quickly began to believe I was physic.

To my dismay however, a more sinister thing had happened – I realized that the TV station was broadcasting the episodes in their seasonal order, from season 1 through season 7, then repeating that order again. In other words, I had watched Family Guy so much, my mind was subconsciously remembering the exact order of the episodes, and ‘predicting’ what favorite scene I would see that night.

I don’t watch Family Guy anymore.

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Here’s something even more disturbing. This “synchro-psychic” power seems to enable me to predict upcoming events and pop-culture.

For example, in my Boston Marathon posting, I got the strong feeling the media was attempting to turn bomber Dzhokhar Tsanaraev into a sex symbol not unlike Jim Morrison, and then this happened:

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bs byers8

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Or… my ‘psychic’ power might come to me in a series of related things, like my last post which featured eclectic bits such as Brasil, taking personal action, the guy who plays the Pope (who also starred in the movie Brazil), and riding the bus….  and then what happened?

Riots started happening in Brasil (supposedly) sparked by bus fare increases and then the Pope visited there.  (Yeah, I know I totally posted it after all that happened, but I wrote most of it before, I swear!)

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bs brazil-confed-cup-protests

What’s Portuguese for “overkill”?

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The disturbing part about this was that in the last post I wrote about beheadings as well, and then a very real-life beheading actually happened in Brasil, occurring at a local soccer game right after a referee stabbed a favorite player to death during the match.

No, I’m not making that up. That’s why you’re not getting a photo.

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The lyrics of the above song are depicted that way to emphasize the dichotomy of the song [and how my brain's functioning these days]: The madness of a brain alternating between moments of real life interaction and passion to those of implanted artificial brain-worms of pop-culture.

The biting irony is that the cause of both states of mental action are most likely the result of the same evil social-engineering permeating and structuring our lives.

Simplified (heh), the protagonist of the song is entering  Chapel Perilous.

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Broken many fine minds indeed.

Chapel Perilous (in a paranormal sense) was conceptualized by an author named Robert Anton Wilson, who died in 2007. He was best known for a series of novels in the 70′s known as The Illuminatus Trilogy.

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Wilson studied engineering, mathematics, and psychology, but his Illuminatus inspiration came to him while exploring his writing skills and working as an assistant editor at Playboy magazine [big red flag] whereupon he reviewed all the magazine’s reader letters about conspiracies.

This made him create the philosophy of Discordianism: Simplified – to be agnostic about everything.

To Wilson, once one enters Chapel Perilous, you will come out either stone paranoid or agnostic. To him, there is no other way.

However, having entered Chapel Perilous myself and being stuck in it long enough to become a pastor, I have a third alternative: a sacrifice.

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“Is”, “is”, “is”. The idiocy of the word haunts me. If it were abolished, human thought might begin to make sense. I don’t know what anything “is”, I only know how it seems to me at this moment.

Robert Anton Wilson

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Wilson sparked Discordianism by making his conspiracy novels such an intertwined mix of truth and fiction that readers were essentially mentally shoved into Chapel Perilous.

Some subplots of the first book (from Wikipedia):

“One [subplot] addresses biological warfare and the overriding of the United States Bill Of Rights, another gives a detailed account of the John F. Kennedy assassination, in which no fewer than five snipers, all working for different causes, prepared to shoot Kennedy in Dallas, Texas, and the books’ climax occurs at a rock concert where the audience collectively faces the danger of becoming a mass human sacrifice.”

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Wilson’s writings inspired a detailed description and definition of Discordianism in a book by two other authors called Principia Discordia:

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I’ve never read it, but perhaps I should – This is one of it’s ‘revelations’:

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Wilson’s writings also inspired a religion? ….a cult? ….a philosophy?….a running parody of all of the above?

….a something. Yeah, that’s it – a something:

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I think their end-times supposedly starts when their pipe-smoking ethereal guru, J.R. “Bob” Dobbs, becomes a Professor X type guy who unites all the world’s saviors to fight the illuminati, the NWO, and of course, the Anti-Bob.

Personally, I’m sorta hoping that happens. 

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JFK and Elvis are also considered world saviors, but Jesus is the one who gets all Wolverine on evil’s ass.

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Let the 1000 years of slack begin!

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And always remember….

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cp KingKong

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And all of the above inspired the now infamous Illuminati: NWO game cards which have become a conspiracy nerd’s check off list:

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Check. Check.

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cp oth

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Check.

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cp 3th

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Check. Check.

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cp Illuminati Card Game Joggers Marathon 2013.

Check.

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cp 4c2cd3886b0ab_58244n

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Not check.

Oh my freakin’ god, not check!!!

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Whew!

Check.

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cp 0

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Confirmed: Check and check.

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Now let us continue the celebration with a parable. Please turn to The Book of tiki, chapter 4, verses 19 through 47.

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One warm spring afternoon, a zen master and his pupil, the living tiki, were strolling through the Japanese countryside in their comfy orange robes and sandals, not speaking a word in silent meditation and connection with the now.

After some distance, they happened upon a river which they needed to cross. Spending a few moments in observation of the river’s width and swiftness, they both silently concluded to each other that crossing would present no difficulty and began wading in. At that moment a beautiful young woman appeared, walking towards them from downstream and wearing absolutely nothing.

“Please, kind sirs, I need your help.” she stated without alarm while shyly covering herself with her arms. “I was bathing in the river but was caught in the current and taken downstream to the opposite bank. I need to get to the other side where my clothes are so that I may return home. Can you help me cross?”

“Worry no further, young lady,” the zen master replied, “We were about to cross the river ourselves, and I am more than strong enough to carry you.” With that he stooped forward, indicating for her to climb upon his back. The girl thanked him for his kindness and wrapped her lithe arms and legs around his torso. As the three ventured in, the living tiki’s widening eyes betrayed a desire to speak, yet he remained silent.

After a few moments they reached the opposite side and walked up the bank, stopping when the ground was level. The zen master crouched again, allowing the girl to get off. “You have been most kind and helpful, sirs. Many blessings to you,” she stated while bowing. “Good day,” she added, and then sprightly darted upstream along the bank. The two men briefly observed her departure then continued on into the countryside. Again, the living tiki looked as if something was weighing upon his mind, but said nothing. 

As they walked, the zen master gazed straight ahead with eyes both alert and relaxed, while the living tiki began looking more and more troubled. He stopped, no longer able to contain his thoughts.

“Master, I think you have greatly erred in agreeing to help that girl. There is a village nearby, and she would’ve eventually received aid from another. Her continued presence negated the exercise in meditation you were teaching me. Again and again I attempt to clear my mind, but all I can think about is delicate, lovely eyes and long, silken black hair glistening with moisture. Rose nipples amidst white skin like two succulent strawberries floating in fresh morning cream. A bottom more shapely and lovely than…  Oh to hell with this I can’t even speak in calm, parable monk-speak anymore – good god that girl had the most spectacular ass I’ve ever seen and I am seriously sporting major wood right now! These supposedly loose robes don’t do a a damn thing to help me out and I wasn’t even the one who carried her! Ongowa!” he finished with a pleading shout to the heavens.

The zen master had stopped to listen, but all the time remaining quietly looking forward. He first let out a slight chuckle, then spoke. “I only carried the girl across the river, my friend, but it appears you have been carrying her ever since.”

A calmness washed over the living tiki as he whispered a sound of understanding. “Thank you master, your wisdom is beyond measure. Next time I must remember to bring a camera.”

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loss

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Chapel Perilous will humble you, children.

You will not be overwhelmed by the grandiosity of the conspiracy, but rather it’s sheer lunacy.

Yet that lunacy comes from the evil ones playing around with the very fabric of who and what we are as a species. It’s the reason most of us don’t spring out of bed in the morning, eager to squeeze every minute out of a new day and thanking the Creator for everything.

We go through our days not noticing the beauty and wonder of existence that surrounds us, wishing for some future moment that will never come. Sleepwalking tikis, I think I called us when I began this blog.

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tiki ptm-l

If I didn’t have to catch this damn bus I could be so drunk right now. 

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Yet it’s the lunacy of it that will be your personal downfall (or enlightenment).

Be careful. Be extremely careful. Because it goes like this…..

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Ready; Oh my god, Beyonce is Illuminati!

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cp beyonce-Illuminati-500x291

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Steady: Oh my god, Beyonce faked her pregnancy!

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cp Beyonce fake Preggy Neduzi

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Go: Oh my god, Beyonce is a…. dude?!

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Superbowl XLVII - Baltimore Ravens v San Francisco 49ers  - Mercedes-Benz Superdome

BEYONCE WANT SNU SNU!

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This photo alone should have you seriously wondering if Beyonce possesses a Y chromosome, but if y’all need some more convincing, you can check out the evidence on YouTube here.

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Again, beware…

there may will be more…

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cp Megan-Fox1

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Once one enters Chapel Perilous, one doesn’t need proof of such things, because the moment a possibility presents itself (like Beyonce not being born a woman), one instantly calculates the probability based on everything else known (the music industry and homosexuality, the cult of Cybelle, the fake theater reality, etc.) and then the connection fits as snug as a puzzle piece, revealing more of the grandiose lunacy.

Another example:

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Keep your eye on the other hand:

Ready: In one hand there are three sexually harassing politicians, Elliot Spitzer, Anthony Weiner, and Bob Filner, who are currently assessing how much of a sucker you are. [They're following the lead of Governor Mark Sanford who told everyone he was hiking the Appalachian trail when he was really down in Argentina banging his mistress - He got re-elected.]

Steady: In the other hand there are two new changes to our society: Same-sex domestic partners are now entitled to spousal benefits in the military, and transgender students in California grades K-12 can now use whatever gender bathroom or locker room they want. There is also a varied media campaign telling you just how bad the number of rapes of women in the military is getting.  [That is, after ten years of the media heavily promoting the idea of women in the military, especially in combat.]

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Go: Mayor Bob Filner is currently being accused of sexual harassment above and beyond even Glen Quagmire, including making advances upon female veterans during a rally intended to garner awareness about rape and PTSD in the military, where the Mayor was invited to speak.

Really?

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cp_n2

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Yes, really. Because you’re in Chapel Perilous. And Chapel Perilous further demands that the feminist attorney representing the first woman to bring suit against Filner, Gloria Allred, was also the same one representing a porn star harassed by Anthony Weiner.

A porn star sexually harassed by a Weiner. Nope, not making that up either. But you get a picture.

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Come to think of it, whenever there’s a woman being sexually harassed by somebody famous using other people’s your money, Gloria is always there to get the rest of it [your money].

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cp gloria_allred_on_piers_morgan_march_2012

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She also seems to have appeared on The Simpsons [bigger red flag]:

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Now hold on, Pastor tiki… sure, there may be some funny business going on, but that’s all trite stuff – Some very real and serious tragedies are happening, like that poor girl being abducted after the guy killed her mom and brother….

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OK who let Fear in?

And right in the middle of my sermon, too.

Bambi?

Thumper?

Please show Fear the exit. Thank you.

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Gotta love the alter girls.

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Fear does have a point, however. Did that really happen or was it just just another fake sideshow in this carnival reality?

It was a good initial test run for the Amber Alert cell phone paging system over several states. Everybody in my area pretty much had the same reaction:

“What the hell is my phone telling me?”

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cp Amber Alert

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Out here, all the laws are named after dead, pretty, white, female children: Amber Alerts, Jessica’s Law, Megan’s Law, Chelsea’s Law….

Dead white girl = new law. 

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bs Charles+Ramsey.+Charles+Ramsey+the+man+who+saved+the+day_509738_4577051

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That’s an actual quote by Mr. Charles Ramsey above which is exactly the point I stopped at that abduction story. My suspicions of fakery were recently confirmed with the suicide of the abductor in jail. He’s dead and the girls get tons of donations from their appearance in People magazine. Hm… convenient. Although I think the participation of “Mr. Ramsey” was utilized more as yet another subtle division between the races.

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Thankfully Hannah Anderson’s grandparents wore “Pray for Hannah” shirts when being interviewed on TV which may have actually saved her life and spared us from “Hannah’s Law”:

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cp Hannah-Anderson-grandparents_1376048564331_698288_ver1.0_320_240

Oh no, we don’t want to provide any useful information on these shirts, just reminding people that God makes the final decision on the fate of our granddaughter.

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Or maybe it was all the lolita-esque photos she’d already posted of herself online, which at least kept her in the thoughts of men:

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But if you really want need to know if this is a fake event, it’s simple. First wait for the drama:

‘Was Hannah somehow involved with the murder of her mother and brother?’

(Insinuated by the sister of abductor on CNN)

and then look for the money shot:

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cp usa-missing-california

What teen girl gives a look like this at their mother and brother’s funeral?

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POST UPDATE: Silly me, I was going to tell you the real money shot was the Nike logo prominently displayed on the football as part of the memorial for her brother, but apparently I didn’t take this photo far enough.

It’s a fucking Starbucks ad:

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Burned Bodies 2

And now you know why she was giving that look: I love iced mocha frappachinos!

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And then you have a recent offering from Miley Cyrus, where every photo of her begins with the words, “What teen girl would…”:

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The teen girls of Chapel Perilous, that’s who.

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And what of catastrophic tragedies, like Syria?

Reality can’t get more real than chemical weapons.

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Yes, but this photo of victims couldn’t be more fake:

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cp palestineegyptsyriadetail

The baby is there to distract you from this ‘spontaneous’ photo having the most perfect visual composition for maximum emotional impact. If you don’t need to be told what it’s about because the picture explains the entire story, it’s fake. (The mourning man’s head is down because none of these damn crisis actors are able to produce even one single tear.) A picture is worth a thousand lies.

Oh, they also want you to check out Armani Exchange when you have a chance.

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Now one might think that I’m making light of the very real deaths of children in Syria [It actually greatly angers me to see how much suffering my country is exporting]. No, I’m pointing out the lunacy of it, perfectly illustrated by this video of Sen. John McCain getting busted playing poker on his iphone during the Senate debates on whether our military should kill Syrians in retaliation for Syrians getting killed.

Wolf Blitzer says: “On a lighter note….”

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And Egypt?

I’m sorry to put it to you this way, Egypt, but Chapel Perilous demands it:

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The blood will stop flowing in the streets once the blood stops flowing in your own homes.

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cp Egypt-FGM

This Egyptian girl is having her clitoris cut off for no good reason whatsoever, due solely to programming by the evil ones.

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POST UPDATE: A reader reminded me of something I heard first from the Celtic Rebel – I keep forgetting about the institutionalized child mutilation happening here. This one’s for you, Kitty. Enjoy.

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yuck

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The reason evil and suffering exists is because we consent to it. It really can’t get much simpler than that. The evil ones see things like Female Genital Mutilation and say, “Hell, if we can get them to do that to their own daughters, we can have them ripping each other apart in the streets!” (I’m guessing there’s some maniacal laughter after that statement as well.)

And following along with that bit of wisdom defined in many insightful ways by the Celtic Rebel comes another bit:

Stop substituting one form of consent for another with a change in your social engineering.

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Social Engineering: Getting everyone everywhere to put on the same stupid mask whenever they protest.

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And you’re not off the hook, Mr. and Mrs. Taxpayer American:

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Evil needs funding. That’s our consent.

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You see, Egypt… “they” are anticipating an eventual reformation to happen to your country (which will include eventual banning of Female Genital Mutilation), and already have programming up and running for your newly liberated daughters…..

Simplified by art,

they want to turn this:

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(John Singer Sargent is the god of portrait realism. You can almost smell the patchouli.)

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Into this:

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I’m serious, Egypt.

With the exception of a painting by somebody named Ghawayesh….

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cp ghawayesh Egyptian Flower Girl

(F’n awesome painting, man! Um, or… miss?)

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….my searches for “Egyptian girl art” typically turned up gems like this:

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Pretty certain Rivendell isn’t located near the Nile.

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And then it got worse….

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OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Although these will be an excellent edition to my “whores throughout history” porcelain figurine collection. (Still looking for “whores of the Ottoman Empire” if anybody’s selling.)

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truth

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What is the truth of your situation, Egypt?

You are not a pawn of America, nor Israel. You have always been under the control of the evil shapers of our reality, who also control America and Israel.

Now that we’re all entering the 21 century, the evil ones can’t stop the modernization of all the third world countries (actually they’re instigating it – it’s making them shitloads of money), so they must do something about the increasing thirst for knowledge and freedom which comes along with said modernization.

That ‘something’ they’ve termed the “Arab Spring”, which means “Readjustment of our Middle East administration from dictatorships to Islamic control.”

Sadly, it’s even worse for you, Egypt. because your little plot of land holds absolutely nothing of value to them [Your main exports are papyrus art and sand], except it’s location and that it’s filled with millions of angry people. Angry millions who have been oppressed for so long, they’re not sure where to steer their post-dictatorship future. So half of you will go with God, and the other half will put on a Guy Fawkes mask. And both of those choices are under the guidance of the evil ones.

The end result will be a causality loop of confusing progressive regression:

A Pastor tiki prediction:

In the not too distant future there will be a gay pride parade down the streets of Cairo, which will be immediately shut down by Islamic fundamentalists. People on both sides interviewed by the media will say the same exact thing: “We’ve got a long way to go, but I think we’ve made some progress here today for the future of Egypt.”

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Hey… they’ve already done it to my country….

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What do we want?!

Equal rights for transgender children!

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cp A-new-law-in-California-will-protect-the-right-of-transgender-teens-to-choose-to-compete-as-boys-or-girls-Getty

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When do we wan….

wait, what the fuck did I just shout out?

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I’m telling you all this, Egypt, because I’m aware of the evil ones’ ultimate plan for you and I’m really hoping you can avert it:

After complete repression and pacification of your people is achieved (again), your country will be turned into a giant amusement park and renamed “Indiana Jones Land”.

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Confused about Chapel Perilous?

Don’t be, children. It’s designed to be that way.

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But what is it? The definitions provided still seem vague, don’t they?

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Timothy Leary describes it as your soul leaving this robot body while it’s still walking around (an out of body experience?). Others jokingly call it “a near-birth experience”.

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I would define it as very similar to the moment in They Live when Roddy Piper first put on the sunglasses and started saying

WTF?

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It’s the moment when you instantly know the truth of the human reality, but it’s absolutely nothing like the truth you thought it would be, therefore the only thing you know about it is that you know absolutely nothing.

And the only thing you want to do about it is chew bubble gum and kick ass.

Aw, damn… I’m all out of bubble gum.

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But wait, children… it’s one more disheartening step further than that…. it’s the exact moment you look in the mirror while wearing your sunglasses and realize

you’ve been programmed.

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theylive

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Wilson offers only two options to leave Chapel Perilous: To either allow fear or agnosticism (basically apathy) to consume you. Most choose apathy, a decision ironically influenced by fear.

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logan magazines

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Yet that is the trap, children. To truly escape Chapel Perilous, a third alternative must be undertaken:

To leave, you must eliminate both your fear and apathy. That is what is keeping you in Chapel Perilous. Both of them are waiting right outside the exit.

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Now hold on Pastor tiki, what you are asking is the impossible. We just want to enjoy life, not become Jedi Knights, you know.

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Dammit Fear, how do you keep getting in? Out! Don’t make me call Grace Jones, ’cause I will.

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??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

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And if I’m calling out Grace, then I’ll have to call out Olivia D’Abo as well. 

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MSDCOTH EC078

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You’ll be gone, but then I’ll forget everything else I was going to say, so lets not let that happen.

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OK, now where was I? Oh yeah…. It’s not impossible – I used to bull’s-eye womp rats in my T-16 back home. They’re not much bigger than…. oh, whoops. Sorry, wrong reality.

Dammit, Chapel Perilous!

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It’s not impossible to eliminate your fear and apathy, but it must be done, otherwise you will be overwhelmed by Chapel Perilous, and accept your fate as a They Live programmed human, much like the two San Diego International Comic-Con attendees above.

They think they have mentally risen above all the crap because they are ‘aware’ of it, but yet are still buying overpriced tickets to an overhyped evil ones’ programming party.

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cp reporter

Excuse me sir, can you tell me why I seem to be the only one here in costume who should be allowed in public, and is neither gay nor a virgin?

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Someone truly leaving Chapel Perilous would be another attendee at the Comic-Con who would take one look at the They Live pair, suddenly throw down everything and say, “That’s right! What the fuck am I doing?” and then immediately exit the convention center.

Well, they also might turn into a prophet along the way…

(or insane – same thing)….

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Hey you… Gene Simmons, I hate to tell you this but your homosexuality is now official, and as for your daughter and her friend… well, I recommend keeping a home pregnancy kit handy. And soon:

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cp con

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You… trooper! Congratulations! The Empire has just promoted you to Patrol Leader Of My Pants!

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cp sexy-storm-trooper

Ow! What was the slap for? You’re the one wearing the goat leggings!

Oh, I’ll never understand stormtroopers.

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You… Mr. Big Bang Theory!

In three seconds you’re going to need to change your underwear for two completely different reasons.

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cp ztop

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Stand your ground, man. She’s more frightened of you than you are of her.

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You… Vamperella!

I’m truly sorry, but I sense there is a Vamperella here even hotter than your supernatural slutiness. She is the one I must find and mate with before I leave!

  Forgive me, for I must abandon your intoxicating charms to the limp fawning of Hellraiser behind you. He is trying to get your attention with a cube.

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cp 6f011_comic_Comic-con+11+Costumes-033

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And there she is!

I have found the chosen one!

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Wait… something’s wrong… can’t concentrate… somehow lost ability to talk to a woman exposing 95% of her body in the lobby of a convention center… becoming nerd again… resistance futile…

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Use the force, Luke.

Um, I mean… take a picture, tiki… it’ll last longer.

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Zen master, thanks again for the wise reminder!

I’ll let my camera carry the girl.

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Thanks for the photo, miss.

Say, I’m not too familiar with the character of  Vamperella… is her mouth the only part of her that drains life fluids out of men?

Ow, what was the slap for?! You’re the one exposing 95% of… oh, I’ll never understand vampires.

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It’s all fake, children.

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What do we want?!

Equal rights for transgender military whistle-blowers!

cp 956x500

When do we wan…

wait, why do I keep shouting that out?

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Well, not all of it.

Do not despair, children, there is still truth and beauty all around you. It’s just been changed into something you’ve been programmed to want more, despite the fact that it is slowly (or rapidly) killing you.

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Or at least making you wear brightly colored pajamas in public:

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To eliminate both your fear and apathy, one must sacrifice this false reality they are presenting (and programming) to us as real.

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Don’t fight it – that’s what they want you to do. You see, what they know that you don’t is that along with the obvious bullshit above comes at least 3 girls dressed up in the most slutty comic book character outfit ever.

With Syrian chemical weapons comes Starbucks. With NSA spying comes Monday Night Football. With Female Genital Mutilation comes i-pods.

And it’s all sweetly presented to you by nipples at 11.

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cp liz_claman_pokies_0605

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You must sacrifice it by not wanting it anymore. All of it. If it’s still going on, it means you are still wanting part of it. And since everything is connected in Chapel Perilous (both the ‘good’ and the bad), you’re still getting all of it.

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cp BEAM 1 Chapel Perilous

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You don’t have to sacrifice it all at once (that’s Fear talking again), just give up one small part of it every day, or every week. It’s like going vegan: Slowly substituting an artificial, tortured-animal diet for a all-natural, healthy, plant-based one.

And in turn, slowly substitute this artificial tortuous reality with a healthy, natural, true one. I recommend using your own talent and skill to create substitutes for the pop-culture and politics you’ve been programmed to crave.

Write a story. Compose a song. Draw the sluttiest female comic book character outfit ever.

Most importantly, you must exercise the only real freedom you are allotted in this false human reality:

Start taking risks.

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Start doing things you’ve never done before.

Instead of taking a trip to Comic-Con, take one to Egypt.

C’mon… Egyptian women can be pretty hot:

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b christine solomon 3

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Wait… WTF?

Christine Solomon?!

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b ms. solomon

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Of course she was ‘born’ in Egypt.

I keep forgetting that this is not reality, this is Chapel Perilous.

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b christine solomon8

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Hey wait a minute, tiki…. if you’re still in Chapel Perilous, that means you’re not following your own advice. Hypocrite.

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Dammit, how does Fear keep getting in? Oh, I give up. Wait…. 

dammit Apathy!

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Yes, children, it is true. I’m still a sucker for a [free] opportunity to see at least three different Vampirellas walking around in a convention devoted to my childhood nostalgia programming.

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cp 82

I like this photo. I really like this photo.

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Therefore, I will call upon the wisdom of a prophet of Chapel Perilous  – or rather someone who never became trapped in it because they truly lived

Anaïs Nin.

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anais

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Anaïs became famous for journal writings about her life (which she began at age 11), and considering her lifetime involved several countries, languages, lovers, occupations, and mixed drinks, she had a lot of wisdom to impart. 

age of volcanoes fun fact: Her official birth name is Angela Anaïs Juana Antolina Rosa Edelmira Nin y Cumell. You will never see any of those names precede the word “law”.

She passed away in 1977 at the age of 73.

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anais nin

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Although I’ve never read any of her books, especially the most famous one about a relationship with author Henry Miller and his wife…

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cp 200px-Henryandjune_cover

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….I can tell you she is the god of inspirational quotes.

No, no… not the stuff you already know….

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blind

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The stuff you don’t:

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annie

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“We don’t see things as they are, we see things as we are.”

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annie4

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“Life is truly known only to those who suffer, lose, endure adversity, and stumble from defeat to defeat”

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annie3

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“Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.”

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annie2

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“If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don’t write, because our culture has no use for it.”

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cp th

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Mass has now concluded. Go in peace, and we’ll see you again soon.

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_________________________________

Hold it now and watch the hoodwink

As I make you stop, think

You’ll think you’re looking at Aquaman

_________________________________

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ONGOWA!

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Can somebody please tell the guy behind me that putting your package on display is not a costume.

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cp a_z

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Coming soon: A return to the Planet Of The Lost with a most bizarre explanation of why everything is the way it is:

Earth might not have originally been a part of this solar system.

Hell, we might’ve not even been from this galaxy. Stay tuned…. (No, I haven’t gone completely mad. I’m serious, it’s freakin’ cool).

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A Russian Reversal Of Murder Most Ghastly In Brazil

•August 11, 2013 • 5 Comments

bs brazil46.

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living tiki personal note: OK, now you can call it a comeback. I have been dead air for longer than I usually am and I can only humbly apologize for that. It’s the result of still struggling in a manipulated economy gone mad, still trying to find love in a dating scene gone ass-backwards [choice of words intentional], and still seeking solace on a planet gone lost. Perhaps I have become manic-depressive, and you are witness to another upswing. Regardless, I will discuss all that in my next posting, “Chapel Perilous”, and will get up to speed with everything soon, including actually replying to comments. I may even answer the question foremost upon your mind: OK… why did I subscribe to this blog? But for now, I have a post that is um… a bit outdated. I was reluctant to publish it, I’m not sure why. However, it is a crucial segue to other things I will be talking about next. Sorry if it’s a jumbled mess of semi-coherent parts. It’s sorta how my brain’s been…..

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bs woolwich_servingsoldier

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Pop Quiz:

A man has just been violently butchered and beheaded in broad daylight on the street near you by two other men. You, for whatever reason, decide to hang around and start filming the situation. One of the homicidal maniacs starts to walk towards you with a knife and meat cleaver in one hand and blood on both saying, “Hey, I just want to talk to you and your camera!”

Do you:

A) Run the fuck away.

B) Throw your camera at the homicidal maniac and then run the fuck away.

C) Stand there and do whatever he wants – despite knowing that when the police arrive, your proximity to the homicidal manic is not going to help matters your life.

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If you answered anything other than C, congratulations… your brain is still functioning properly.

Either that, or you ride the bus and you know The First Rule Of The Bus: Don’t make eye contact with the crazy people, because then they will start talking to you.

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Regardless, the fact that this film exists shows that somebody in England chose option C, and the only description I’ve heard about him is that he was riding the bus going to a job interview [so already you know something doesn't smell right due to his ignorance of The First Rule Of The Bus].

Yep, another fake event.

But wait, not just fake….. ridiculous.

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bs 4

Yes, this woman was actually cradling and stroking the back of a supposedly headless corpse. What?  Shhh…. don’t worry sweetie, it’ll be all right. We’ll find you a new head. A better head.

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Woolwich Attack Footage

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If that wasn’t enough, the “amateur” video above seems to indicate that every single British person has gone completely mad. People just walk right by the cutlery wielding homicidal maniac – including a lady pulling some sort of shopping stroller mere inches away – like it was no big deal.

If those were real passersby in this fake and staged event then I’m sorry to tell you this England, but you’re completely lost. You have now achieved the reality of Brazil.

No, no…. not the country:

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bs -19401

Tag Line: “It’s all about flights of fantasy. And the nightmare of reality. Terrorist bombings. And late night shopping. True love. And creative plumbing. It’s only a state of mind.”

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This 1985 film wasn’t set in the country of Brasil, but in a future Orwellian England – one where the populace had become so careless and apathetic to their reality that terrorist bombings and people being rendered off the street didn’t faze them… they just walked around the debris and dead people looking annoyed that their day had been disrupted.

Think I’m kidding?

Does something in this scene from Brazil look familiar?

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bs mind-that-parcel500[That's our new pope by the way, if he looked familiar.]

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Of course it does. But remember, Brazil premiered in 1985. This poster is a bit more recent:

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bs aryY9

I have an amendment to the First Rule Of The Bus: Don’t make eye contact with the CCTV cameras either.

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I was in high school during the 80s and remember laughing at all the jokes in movies and TV about how isolated, controlled, and Orwellian the Soviet Union was.

And the evil ones certainly knew how to make that propaganda stick in the mind of yours truly:

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Goooood Morning, Soviet Union!

bs vanessa_angel_spies_like_us_collage_1Y3rHLK.sized

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?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Goodnight everybody!

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Vanessa Angel is the only reason to watch the movie Spies Like Us. It’s certainly not to laugh. And she’s not even Russian! (Russian girls are hotter – another cold war secret kept from the male youth of America, and that’s probably why the movie didn’t have a real Russian actress for Vanessa’s role… nobody would believe a girl as hot as Vanessa could really be Russian.)

OK, wait…. you’ve got to hear the scene she was featured in:

American spies Chevy Chase, Dan Ackroyd, and Donna Dixon stumble upon a Soviet military ballistic missile team of three men and two women in the mountains of southern Russia. After a series of events causes the nuclear missile to fire unintentionally at the US, all people involved realize that nuclear WWIII is about to start in a couple of hours and the only thing to do is to find someone to have end of the world sex with. Chase and Dixon pair off, as does one of the Russian men with one of the Russian women. But… oh no! This means Ackroyd is up against the remaining two Russian men in vying for the favor of the only girl left – Russian megababe Vanessa! He’ll lose out for sure!

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Nope – the two Russian men then pair off because they’re gay, leaving the hottest girl in the movie all alone with Ackroyd.

Really?

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In the 80′s you had the comedy of Russian Yakov Smirnoff, who was famous for something eventually termed “The Russian Reversal”:

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“In America, you break law.

In Soviet Russia, law breaks you!”

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“In America, you can always find a party.

In Soviet Russia, party always finds you!”

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“In America, you assassinate presidents.

In Soviet Russia, presidents assassinate you!”

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Yakov Smirnoff

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I would say it’s a good bet “Yakov Smirnoff” is not all he is purported to be. [Extremely unsurprising fact: He's Jewish.]

He was not only using comedy to implant memes in the American conscious about what their own country could easily turn into, but was also subtly implanting social engineering propoganda, like the gay agenda:

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“We have no gay people in Russia. There are homosexuals, but they are not allowed to be gay about it. The punishment is seven years locked in prison with other men, and there is a three year waiting list for that.”


When the USSR still existed, I wondered if any Russian was aware of what was really going on in the world due to all the control and propaganda permeating their reality…. but now I realize it’s me. I’m living in Soviet Russia. My country underwent a clandestine Russian Reversal:

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In Russia, you rob bank.

In capitalist America, bank robs you!

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I guess that’s the moment you know when you’re living in an Orwellian state, when everything is a Russian Reversal.

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“Just look at us. Everything is backwards, everything is upside down. Doctors destroy health, lawyers destroy justice, psychiatrists destroy minds, scientists destroy truth, major media destroys information, religions destroy spirituality, and governments destroy freedom.”

Michael Ellner

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But in the case of the recent staged attack in London, it appears a very interesting Russian Reversal is taking form:

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In United Kingdom, women defend soldiers!

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[Note woman on far left who is so casual she has her hands in her pockets.]

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I don’t know about you, but every single woman I know would never do that and would tell me I was fucking crazy if I even thought about approaching those two men for any reason. But yet here we are, presented with at least three women attempting to contain/stop (?) the situation.

In my opinion, there are only two conclusions to be derived from this:

1) The evil ones have been fake acting everything for so long, they’ve actually forgotten how normal people normally react to things. [A very humorous possibility]

2) It was intentionally staged that way to affect your mind.

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Where are the MEN?

Considering this is most likely a completely staged event (meaning everybody on the street is an actor), any discussion of that is moot. Yet that is the subtle meme being subconsciously implanted –

What happened to the brave knights of yore?

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bs Enchanted-Army-bedknobs-and-broomsticks-20742889-399-228

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They’re lying in the street, headless.

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Now before any mate from England reminds me of the choices I offered in my above pop-quiz, think about what you personally would do if confronted with the Woolwich incident.

Hold on to that thought because in a bit I’m going to pull my own Russian Reversal on it. Actually more of a bait and switch. Same thing.

But first, let me tell you how the evil ones want you to react to this event:

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Oi, lads of England! Can’t you see what’s going on ‘ere? Right, now! We’ve got this dead mate in London, a soldier been stabbed in Paris, innocents being bombed in Boston, and riots ‘appening in Sweden! Islamic immigrants are running amok, mates!

‘Ere now, we’ve got to defend the British way of life! We’ve got to form up some sort of English Defense League!

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Woolwich street attack

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Sure, they may look like a gay BDSM rally, but trust us, mates… the EDL are the toughest, most patriotic blokes you’ll ever meet!

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bs 628x471

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Oh, and make sure you contribute to our a completely random charity, ‘elp For ‘eroes. Lee Rigby died for your freedom because ‘e was wearing a ‘elp For ‘eroes shirt! It’s ‘ow those bloody Islamo-bastards singled ‘im out as a soldier….

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bs Lee-Rigby-help-for-heroes.

Why don’t you donate right now? Or do you ‘ate our ‘eroes? Come on, don’t be a wanker! We’ll serve up some completely not gay bangers this Friday.

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bs poster-for-help-the-heroes-night-page-00111.

There you go lads, we’ll throw in some spotted dick too!

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Mmmm….. that’s good dick!

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Also, get your mums to buy soldier teddy bears made by one of our a completely random company.

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bs Sol3_1734243a.

 9 out of 10 grieving British mums agree: They would rather hold up a teddy bear representation of their son at press conferences than an actual photograph of him.

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Sorry England… most of what I know about you comes from WWII films, Monty Python, The Young Ones, and Benny Hill.

bs badmpaach

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Truth be told I actually envy you, mates. All those saucy tartsYou know what I mean? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Your women seem pretty nice as well.

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The population demographics of each western nation has been radically changed since 9/11 by design. [Well, that would be each and every "first world" nation which has been greatly influenced threatened to allow in more and more immigrants through a variety of means - that is, all nations except one... Japan. Hmm... I wonder what happens to a country that doesn't want immigration?]

First they let open a floodgate of immigration (and the more radically different the immigrant is from the new country the better), and now they are stirring disharmony among the natives and the immigrants so they can clamp down on both and turn it into a brand new nation which suits their needs much better.

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uk article-237Your tax pounds at work, UK. Immigration solved!

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In the past fifteen years, my immediate local area has dramatically increased it’s immigrant population of  Africans and Arabs (and oddly…. Russians. They’re opening up Russian restaurants. With real Russian girls as waitresses. Good god they’re hot just seen through the restaurant windows.) It’s even making the local Mexicans say: Hey wait a minute… we called shotgun on this country!

Again, this is by design. Last year, I saw a news clip of an English grandmother seriously giving PM Cameron a piece of her mind on the street – she was complaining about all the recent Russian and Eastern European immigrants who had moved in her local area causing problems. All her life she lived there with only British as neighbors until now. Cameron blurted out some vague standard BS reply as he rushed into a waiting limo. Once inside and forgetting his press mike was still on, Cameron stated: “Crazy old lady.”

To me, that “crazy old lady” seemed the embodiment and the heart of England. If I ever go to England, I would prefer to meet women like her… British women, not Russian or Eastern European women – no matter how hot they might be (it might matter). If I travel to Indonesia, I would prefer to meet Indonesian women (which I did), not British women (which I did – although she was there with her husband on business/holiday and didn’t rather like Indonesia… “Not reeaally.” So British.)

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Personally, if ever in England, I’d really like to run into Vanessa Angel:

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age of volcanoes fun fact: Vanessa Angel is British.

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bs Spies Like Us 14Spot on, Britannia!

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Or possibly another British bird that somewhat recently [before I mostly stopped watching movies and TV] caught my fancy, Hannah Spearritt from the BBC series Primeval:

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hs Primeval movie

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Listen up Hollywood: Hot women with dinosaurs is pretty much the only thing that will make me watch your unoriginal programming-permeated crap on TV and in the theaters anymore, and the BBC is already way ahead of you. Thankfully I haven’t seen the new Star Trek film, so I’ve avoided the conspiro-nonsense discussion online about whether the red planet in the beginning named Nibiru is actually secret code telling us the real red planet Nibiru is on it’s way to kill us all.

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On second thought Hollywood, just have everything directed by Roger Corman.

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Dinosaur Island (1994)_007

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He’ll remember the hot women and dinosaurs.

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dino island

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OK, wait… you got to hear Hannah’s most spectacular scene in Primeval:

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Hannah needs to keep the temperature of her apartment very warm because she’s taking care of a small dinosaur, and thereby is forced to keep cool by walking around in her underwear.

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hs hannah_spearritt01.

Listen up BBC: You have geniuses writing for you. Geniuses!

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And of course [as some readers may know] I wouldn’t mind running into the (British) Babe Supreme Of The Universe, Jane Seymour.

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j Jane-Seymour-97664986611

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Jane, even though I’m wary having seen you cavorting with the Greenbergs and their theater reality, I’ve decided to reinstate your age of volcanoes bestowed title because you’re now single again – wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Nonetheless, there will be a indeterminate probationary period of reinstating your title because I keep happening across photos like this one:

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j freddie-with-jane-seymour-at-fashion-aid-1985

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However, I am enticed by the fact that your latest “Open Hearts” design of jewelry and art keeps reminding me of curvaceous women’s bums.

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j Jane_Seymour_7Spot on, Jane!

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What was I talking about?

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With a country full of so many differing voices, eventually no one will be heard.

But then again, the evil shapers of our reality have never listened to us, the people.  And why should they? We would just be repeating back what they’ve programmed us to say. Only when you are saying something that goes against their programming, that’s when they will start listening to you.

Immigrants are not your enemy. Most all of them are just like you and me, and someday you might be the immigrant. However, be aware that immigration is being used as a Machiavellian tool to divide and rule all of us.

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Oh wow… hold on everybody, I totally forgot to examine the Woolwich event through my own criteria (Oh how… how could I have forgotten?!):

Am I being tempted to further investigate all the nonsense of the Woolwich attack by the appearance of boobs?

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Now, on the surface, you’d assume this event would be drastically boobless, but no – you just gotta follow the conspiratorial BS path they’ve laid out for me you….

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Investigating one of the murderers leads you to a radical Islamic cleric who heavily influenced him. That will then lead you to the cleric’s daughter in London. Her name’s Yasmin - She’s a pole dancer, in case you were wondering about her occupation.

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bs yasmin omarBakriMuhammadsDaughterMailOnline-1

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Did you know the murderer also had a girlfriend? Her name’s Justine. It is currently unknown whether her occupation also involves stimulating a metal pole.

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bs Justine-Rigden_2571832b

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But take comfort, dear readers, and know that I will not rest until my mind has penetrated as deeply and as often as it can between these two connections and I reach a happy ending satisfying conclusion in finding out what’s really going on.

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Now then, do you remember how I asked you to think about how you’d react if confronted with the Woolwich situation?

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bs picture-1_1.

I believe some of these fake events are designed to make you ponder about how you personally would react – just like movies. You place yourself in the action, the situation [With movies you almost have too]. But what if some major relatable element is missing from the event, like the presence of men (except our compliant cameraman)?

You could say the Woolwich incident is subliminally castrating the men of England.

However, to be fair, there were two cutlery-wielding homicidal maniacs who just beheaded someone and even I can’t truthfully predict how I would react if this event really occurred right in front of me.

I can tell you that I wouldn’t just stand there with a damn video camera….

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September 2007: the living tiki finds himself bored, sitting near the entrance of a nearly empty local laundromat on a weekday afternoon, washing his clothes and watching Mexican soap operas on the laundromat’s mounted TV.

Me: Are you blind, Fernando?! Inez is totally cheating on you with Miguel – look at the way she’s….

Just then a girl no older than nine hurries through the front door and stands right in front of him. She is uncontrollably shaking and crying with a look of terror across her face.

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Girl: Please sir, please help me! He’s going to kill her! Please help me!

Me: What? What’s going on?!

Girl: Please… he’s hurting her!

She turned and hurried back outside, motioning for me to follow. Whatever was going on was happening in the residence next door, completely obscured by a high fence except for the front gate which was open. The girl stopped short of the entrance, frozen by fear. She looked at me, and then towards the house. Sounds of undefinable commotion came from inside. I pulled my cellphone from out of my pocket, ready to dial 911.

Me: What’s going on?

I slowly approached the gate, which allowed me to see the front porch and door of the house. It was open, and I spied a woman’s body lying in the entrance, half in, half out. She wasn’t moving.

Me: OK, time to dial.

Sounds inside suddenly became louder, and a twentysomething woman swiftly came out of the the house and went through the gate to the sidewalk where I was with the girl. With a panicked expression, she looked at the girl and then at me… holding my cellphone.

Woman: Don’t call the police! Don’t hurt him! He’s diabetic! He’s in diabetic shock!

Me: [thinking] Wow, can this situation get even more rapidly complicated?

Before I could ask if the woman in the doorway was OK, a man came barreling out through the door, and then the gate to the sidewalk where we all were. He had an appearance similar to Tony Soprano, except with the look of a charging rhino exploding with anger. He very briefly paused to look around until he saw me… holding my cellphone.

He charged.

Me: [thinking] I’ve really got to stop asking myself stupid questions.

Man: Don’t you call the police! Don’t you fucking call the police!

Me: Don’t involve me in this, man.

I knew that a man consumed with that much anger was a powerful force, but not in total control of his actions. I slightly stepped and leaned to my right when he was upon me, escaping the punch aimed at my head and forcing him to pass me by, unable to stop quickly. He was a little over a yard away when we both pivoted to face each other again. He came at me again.

Man: I’m going to fucking kill you, you hear me?! I’m going to fucking kill you!

The very moment he started toward me again, I instantly noticed he began reaching around with his hand to the small of his back. An odd thing to do, considering….

Me: [thinking] Oh fuck me he’s got a gun!

Having 1/1000 of a second to decide whether I wanted to bring a fist to a gun fight, I ran. Actually, more of a two second sprint to the far side of the laundromat, turning the corner of the building. I quickly paused once I was out of sight.

Man: Yeah you better run, you pussy!

Me: [thinking] Wait a second… that just doesn’t sound like something somebody with a gun would say.

I looked around the corner. The man was fast walking away from the front of the laundromat towards the house. I could now see he was using his hand to pull up his pants because he had no belt and was just a little bit fatter than Tony Soprano.

Me: [thinking] Oh fuck me again! I just went from Spiderman to Wonderpussy in two seconds in front of everybody. Goddammit!

I sprang back around the corner and started rapidly walking towards him. I couldn’t let him get near the girl and the woman who were now backing away.

Me: Hey! Thought you had a gun, but now I see you’re just a fat bastard who can’t keep his pants up! Why don’t you come back here so we can continue our discussion?!

He ignored me and rushed past the females, who gave him a wide berth. It was becoming apparent he was heading for a truck parked on the street. I kept thinking I couldn’t let him get behind the wheel – The way things were going, he’d probably sideswipe my vehicle. Then plow into a bus full of children, nuns, and puppies.

Me: Hey! I’m talking to you, jackass!

He continued ignoring me, got in his huge truck and sped off with screeching tires causing passing motorists to swerve and stop. I turned back towards the house and laundromat and could see the woman had gone back in the gate to check on whomever that was in the doorway. Suddenly the sound of a gunning engine, squeaking brakes, and reflections of red and blue light all around me told me someone had called the police… perhaps the older couple I saw earlier in the far corner of the laundromat. They were right behind me.

Police: Show me your hands! On the ground, now!

Me: [thinking while raising hands and kneeling] I wonder if my clothes are dry yet?

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So yeah, wouldn’t just stand there with a video camera.

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But now allow me to change just one thing about the header pop-quiz:

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What would you do if the headless corpse lying in the street was that of a completely innocent woman?

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bs ripper

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What if the woman was a prostitute?

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bs jyg4ed0fb8c.

Over 100 years ago, Jack the Ripper was able to get away with his grisly crimes not too far from Woolwich [I'm totally guessing] because he attacked his lone prey in deserted alleys under the cloak of night and fog. Had he done it in broad daylight on the street he would have been beaten and lynched by an angry mob… lead by men. 

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And they wouldn’t have responded that way because they really cared about prostitutes.

She’s dead? Blimey! ‘Oo am I going to roger now? Me missus? Not bloody likely!

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OK, maybe part of my education about England comes from Andy Capp too.

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They would’ve responded that way because they would’ve only seen Jack as a homicidal lunatic, nothing more – and their own mother/sister/wife/daughter might be next under his knife.

Jack wouldn’t have even had time to say: “Hey, I just want to talk to you and your camera!”

This is not a reaction motivated by heroism, or patriotism, or even bravado… it is evolutionary survival instinct – fueled by fear and rage.

If you ever happen to seriously harm a chimpanzee with other chimpanzees about, at the very least you’re gonna have a whole lot of chimpanzees really pissed off at you.

Chimpanzees, by the way, also deeply recognize the passing of one of their own.

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I remember not too long ago when beheadings took front and center stage in the media. Innocent (Jewish) American civilians kidnapped and butchered as a result of American foreign policy.

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Nowadays you’re lucky if people even take notice, much less care (and I don’t believe that’s because they think it’s fake.)

Those initial incidents now seem like programming test-runs – first taking place in a country far away so when the same event happens just miles away from where you live, the desensitization reaction that’s been programmed for the years between can be gauged for effectiveness and apathy.

Maybe that’s why Monty Python’s Terry Gilliam named his movie Brazil:

A movie about people removed from reality as much as possible named after a country that still has people as close to it as possible…..

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In regards to the Woolwich fake attack, there definitely appears to be some psychological suppression of this instinctual survival fear and rage in people. We now hesitate, for whatever reason, and who knows what happens to that unreleased fear and rage created by just simply hearing about this incident and believing it to be true.

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Related incident that recently popped up on the conspiratorial radar:

13 year old punished for saving fellow student from knife attack

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Is this a fake event as well, manufactured and coordinated to condition the young men of Canada to think of another reason to hesitate?

I’m not sure, but I found it interesting that the interviewer referenced Woolwich. And the kid’s got a hot mom.

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Briar Maclean and hot mom.

I feel (at least) these people are genuine, for two reasons:

1) Their emotional expressions are hard to fake, especially a fawning mother beaming with pride for her son, and a teenager’s annoyance with any notoriety.

2) They don’t look Jewish.

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But that doesn’t mean the evil ones aren’t still using it to further their programming of the next generation of men (and women)….

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“The programming” isn’t what caused your initial reaction to this recent Time magazine cover:

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Nor is it all the implanted subliminalapalooza:

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It’s that when you completely remove all context from the photo, it depicts a four year old getting to second base with an adult woman.

The thought of breastfeeding is only your mind’s desperate attempt to rationalize a bizarre photo with odd poses and expressions.

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Think I’m kidding?

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This is a fake TV series that was once depicted on the real [Greenberg] TV series 30 Rock:

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I’ll let one of the Greenberg actors describe the plot:

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That’s eighth-grade as in thirteen years old. That’s thirteen years old as in they only just discovered Dad’s hidden Playboy yesterday.

Actual quote: Who will be eliminated in the final challenge of Erection Cove? 

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If the evil ones aren’t subliminally castrating the men of today, they are retarding their maturity. The Celtic Rebel has done a couple of shows revealing excellent insights on the latter.

You see, Hollywood ? Remove the boys and add dinosaurs – Now you’ve got a show.

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Now then… add into all this gender programming mix a recent public announcement made by another Greenberg actor, Angelina Jolie

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[paraphrased]

Women of planet Earth, your breasts are two ticking time bombs ready to blow up in the face of your lover, your son, or your horse! I just learned from a completely random biotech company that I posses genes which might possibly be susceptible to maybe getting breast cancer. Maybe!

  First I recommend you pay a huge fee so this completely random biotech company can tell you exactly what they told me, and then I want you to cut off both your breasts. No hesitations…double mastectomy, sisters! Hey, I did it to mine!

You should listen to me – I’m both a celebrity and a UN ambassador!

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A living tiki rebuttal for the women of planet Earth:

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Lovely ladies of planet Earth, you already know my opinion on those two wonderful orbs dangling so innocently and invitingly in front of your heart, so I will leave you with just two thoughts:

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1) Here’s a no cost way of knowing if you might develop breast cancer (mostly for those women who live in California, but I would apply the same to the rest of the world):

In it’s drinking water, California now has one thousand times more Roundup® herbicide in it than is needed to cause breast cancer

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2) Angelina supposedly received implants after the double mastectomy and that’s why her boobs look exactly the same as before.

Or…..         she never got implants because she never had them removed and is lying to you with absolutely zero conscience or care for your life.

Something to ponder.

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With this post I didn’t want people to get the impression that taking violent physical action equates to manhood. No. I am recommending simply taking personal (appropriate) action when things threaten your loved ones, immediate community and reality – that’s the instinct the evil ones are trying to take away from you. 

Lead the charge by taking personal charge. 

Start the change by making personal change.

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There’s a couple of homicidal maniacs spraying toxic aerosols above your home and your loved ones right now….

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….what are you gonna do about it?

[You'd think the Native Americans would at least do something, but they seem to be living in Brazil as well.]

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I decided to do a cursory examination of the most famous case of a woman being brutally raped and stabbed to death on the street with no one answering her pleas for help.

Whether it’s a real event or not, the evil ones seemed to have made sure it was implanted in everyone’s memory, and the ways that was done brings up some very interesting clues about the truth of this reality we are experiencing….

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On March 13, 1964, a daughter of Italian immigrants, Kitty Genovese, was raped and stabbed to death outside her Queens apartment building after leaving her job at a local bar late at night.

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There were a number of people in the surrounding buildings who heard her screams for help but did nothing. Only after some time did one of them yell out their window to “Leave that girl alone!” The killer subsequently fled the scene, but returned shortly to finish her off. Only then were the police called, but the killer was able to flee again (later caught) and Kitty died en route to the hospital.

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Kitty’s murder didn’t make headlines (and memory) until The New York Times printed an article a few days later titled “Thirty-Eight Who Saw Murder Didn’t Call The Police.”

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The article was later revealed to be full of lies and distortion [there were only 12 people who heard anything], which leads one to wonder as to the motive for publishing the story.

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The reason becomes more apparent with three different people who took this story and prominently ran with it, telling the men of New York how dare they do nothing like they’ve been programmed to….

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1) The first would be A. M. Rosenthal with his book, Thirty Eight Witnesses – The Kitty Genovese Case. All you need to know is that his name sounds Jewish and that he is promulgating the lie that there were thirty-eight.

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2) Next would be Rasputin Alan Moore, author of the influential graphic novels Watchmen and V For Vendetta.

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He actually included the story of Kitty Genovese as a plot point in Watchmen:

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It’s the reason Rorschach became Rorschach. The repressed instinctual fear and rage turned him into a vigilante. However, Moore gave you the illusion that this could be a completely independent act, rather than the desired result of programming because the the evil ones can control vigilantes [see English Defense League above and anything with the word "superhero"] not independent doers and thinkers.

Those type of reactions can’t be anticipated or predicted.

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age of volcanoes action news flash: On May 9th, the voice of Charlie Brown in the original Peanuts cartoons, Peter Robbins, was sentenced to a year in jail but released to a drug treatment center for threatening his girlfriend and stalking her plastic surgeon.

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3) The third man to exploit Kitty’s death would be this one caught in the middle of a United Federation of Planets love sandwich, writer Harlan Ellison:

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Ellison [El's son?], aside from being highly influential in Star Trek (and possibly Land Of The Lost), wants you to know the thirty-eight witnesses were “thirty-six motherfuckers” [he barely cared to remember even the fraudulent number of witnesses] and wrote a short story influenced by the incident titled “The Whimper Of Whipped Dogs.”

Ellison’s equating of men with dogs is very significant, especially since he also wrote a story made into a movie called A Boy And His Dog:

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OK, wait… you’ve got to hear the plot and the most uneasy and weird ending of a film ever:

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Don Johnson and his dog are survivors in a post-nuclear wasteland. Due to possible nuclear mutation, Dons’ dog can communicate telepathically with him (very intelligently and eloquently in contrast to Dons’ simple-mindedness).

Don makes a deal with the dog: He will obtain food for both of them if the dog sniffs out young women for him to have sex with. Eventually the dog finds an underground village, which invites Don inside for breeding with their women [for fresh DNA in their society?] but his dog had to remain on the surface.

Long story short, the village intended to eventually kill Don, so he escapes back to the desolate surface with a woman he fell in love with. It’s then he finds his dog near death from starvation.

What happens next is not shown but implied by having the dog eating something indeterminate from a bowl and remarking about the girl having “poor taste.”    

“What is love?” Don ponders, looking at the dog eating from the bowl – a question once posed by the girl. “Love is a boy and his dog” he replies to himself.

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Let me remind you this was written by a man arrogantly critical of people who did nothing about the murder of a woman.

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I will be examining what has happened to men further along these lines as well as returning to Atlantis (?!) and giving the reason why dogs shouldn’t exist (?!) with an upcoming post:

PLANET OF THE LOST (5.8): The Purse-dog Mutation Of Wolves And Men.

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ONGOWA!

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Hey Spielberg, you forgot something…..

Hannah Spearritt!

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Gooood Morning UK!

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Goodnight Everybody!

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The Boston Amputee Party And The Day A Submarine Died

•May 19, 2013 • 5 Comments

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Why did nobody question the blue M&M guy? Huh?

More curious, why the hell isn’t anybody looking at anybody else in this photo?

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Something in me, dark and sticky

All the time it’s getting strong

No way of dealing with this feeling

I can’t go on like this too long

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This time you’ve gone too far!

This time you’ve gone too far!

This time you’ve gone too far!

I told you! I told you! I told you! I told you!

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Don’t talk back, just drive the car!

Shut your mouth, I know what you are!

Don’t say nothing, keep your hands on the wheel!

Don’t turn around, this is for real!

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Digging in the dirt

Stay with me I need support

I’m digging in the dirt

Find the places I got hurt

Open up the places I got hurt

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“Digging In The Dirt”

Peter Gabriel

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age of volcanoes action news flash: the living tiki was fortunate enough to arrange a sit-down interview with one of, if not the, hero of the Boston Bombing, Carlos Arredondo. Enjoy.

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When the bombs went off on Patriot’s Day, the innocent citizens of Boston as well as runners from all over God’s green Earth were lucky that Carlos just happened to be there.

You see, all Carlos wanted to do at the Boston Marathon was remind people of the sacrifices our veterans make for their freedom, including the ultimate sacrifice made by his son in Iraq in 2004. Carlos made sure everybody remembered that by setting himself and a Marine Corps van on fire after two Marines and a chaplain arrived to tell him the bad news about his son. Since then, this Costa Rican-American couldn’t seem to avoid the news and famous people if he wanted to, spearheading various high-profile protests against President Bush as well as becoming a citizen due to involvement by Sen. Ted Kennedy.

Carlos, as we all know now, was the one who is responsible for saving the life of Jeff Bauman who unfortunately experienced a double amputation as a result of the bomb.

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But what we don’t know is that Carlos saved another life that day: Old Glory. He had brought the flag to the marathon to remind everyone they are Americans living in America. 

Little did Carlos know, as he shouted out his last “Freedom isn’t free!”, that seconds later a bomb would nearly take the life of that flag….

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Fortunately for all of us, the dramatic heroism of Carlos was recorded in a series of photographs, which will soon become a permanent feature display in the Smithsonian Museum along with that flag once it’s made a full recovery at Beth Israel hospital. Carlos detailed the horrific minutes of Islamic terrorism he experienced that day exclusively for the age of volcanoes….

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After introductions, I decided to start off our conversation right at the moment…

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tiki: The first bomb goes off.

Carlos: The first bomb goes off. [softly nodding, gazing in the distance]

tiki: Tell us about those first few seconds.

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Carlos: Um, wow… that’s a lot. [running a hand through his hair]

tiki: Take your time.

Carlos: Well, OK first I was like… holy mackerel, guys, you fired off the freedom cannon way too early! But then I realized there was no freedom cannon… and I saw blood. I knew then something was terribly wrong.

tiki: Blood on Old Glory?

Carlos: No, no, the flag was uninjured at that time, thank God – my body shielded it from the blast. Then I checked my hat, which was OK too. I was blessed, unlike all the people around me with injuries and missing limbs. That was gross.

tiki: So you sprang into action to help them?

Carlos: No… even though I knew some of them would be dead in less than two minutes, I was the only person there who had the foresight to know the most important thing was to get that fence down. How can these people be helped, I thought, if emergency personnel have to walk ten feet out of their way to get to them? Besides, like I said – it was gross.

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tiki: Look at all those people having trouble getting to the wounded. Most of them are just standing there, dumfounded. You took on an entire wood fence while still protecting Old Glory just seconds after the second bomb went off – were you scared?

Carlos: I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t, but you don’t think about that in situations like these, you just act. Well, at least me… I don’t know ’bout regular folk. I used to be a rodeo clown when I was younger in Costa Rica. I think that training prepared me to run to danger instead of away from it.

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tiki: Wow, you seem to be the only one taking action in that photo.

Carlos: I know, right? I’m all like: “Git ‘er done!” [laughing] But that’s when I encountered another problem: There was a steel fence behind the wooden one – It was a disheartening setback.

tiki: I can only imagine. But yet you continued on.

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Carlos: I continued on. Thankfully some police were catching on to what I was doing, and just went around the fence. They kept telling me, “Stop, stop… that doesn’t matter! There are people here bleeding to death who need your help!” But it mattered to me, and it mattered to America.

tiki: And that’s when the unthinkable occurred.

Carlos: Yep. One of the actual terrorists himself – Dzhokhar, I believe – slipped unnoticed through the crowd and stabbed Old Glory when I had set the flag down to get to the fence better. 

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tiki: That’s incredible.

Carlos: I don’t know how he got past all of us, as well as the cameras, but you can see the flag starting to bleed in this next photo.

tiki: You look stunned.

Carlos: I was stunned. I let the flag – I let America – completely down. I failed.

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tiki: Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re a hero. You even didn’t miss a beat in getting back to that fence.

Carlos: I’m no hero. I’m just your average red-blooded Costa Rican-American who ended up doing some pretty heroic things that day. [water began welling up in his eyes]

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tiki: Let’s talk about Dzhokhar for a moment. Don’t you think it’s kind of weird that his name is pronounced “Zjo-kar”, as in “Joker”, another famous mad bomber?

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Carlos: I’ll leave that monster up to the intelligence guys.

tiki: He sure appeals to the young ladies – The bad boy. Doesn’t it really piss you off that this monster is stealing away the attention of hot snatch from the rest of us?

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Carlos: What the hell are you talking about?

tiki: Oh… apologies Mr. Arredondo. age of volcanoes interviews are different from other media outlets. I’m just saying that I’m really getting this whole Dionysian/Jim Morrison vibe from how Dzhokhar is being presented in the media.

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Carlos: Who’s in the what now? Can we talk about me being a hero again?

tiki: Sure. Let’s try something different – Out of all the victims, who do you wish you could’ve saved… you know, for the wishful possibility of life-saving-thank-you sex?

Carlos: Huh?

tiki: I’m sorry. I sorta start pondering these things. Hm… OK, who do you at least remember thinking was pretty?

Carlos: Uh, well… I guess Victoria McGrath. I met her later and then saw another photo of her online…

tiki: The one where she’s in the water? Seen it!

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tiki: That other dude sure swooped her up fast. I guess that’s why he’s smiling like he’s at least going to get a life-saving-thank-you handjob. But I like the look of the guy to his right: “Awww shoot. I was gonna rescue her!” [laughing] And who the hell is the random Nike ballcap guy with a sidearm? Police? FBI? Private security? Random guy with a sidearm?

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Carlos: Um.. OK, I don’t know all that, but I do know his quick action saved her leg – they didn’t need to amputate.

tiki: Yeah… that wound does look pretty bad. What do you think about Adrianne Haslet? 

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Carlos: Damn shame about her leg. She was a dancer, you know. Can’t quite figure out where she was at the time – can’t really see her in the photos.

tiki: Hm, yeah that is interesting. You don’t see her much at the event, but we sure are getting a complete photo album of recovery. And in almost every one she’s totally smiling, like her amputation happened years ago instead of quite recently. Amazing gal. I’ll tell you what, even though she’s missing a leg, she’s still ridiculously adorable. I would totally shag her.

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Carlos: Shag? What? What does that mean? mr. tiki, I fail to see how this is relevant to the heroism and tragedy of the Marathon bombing. People died, you know.

tiki: Um, yeah, hold that thought…. I’ve just decided that since this is my blog, I’m gonna have to put up a Adianne Haslet cute hotness gallery.

Carlos: A what?

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tiki: Adrianne, don’t mind the leg at all. Anytime you want to….

Carlos: Look, mr. tiki, this is all making me really uncomfortable and I think you are making light of a very serious tragedy.

tiki: Are you kidding? Bradley Cooper already started making moves on Victoria!

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tiki: Man, he is surrounded by injured hotness. Bastard.

Carlos: This is seriously rude. C’mon, did you hear a guy lost his fiancee?

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tiki: Holy crap…. I thought that was a shoe ad! The neon green really focused my attention.

Carlos: Do you even care about anyone in this event?

tiki: I care about Adrianne Haslet. I hope she realizes Anderson Cooper is gay. Seriously Adrianne, if you need a physical therapy partner, or whatever, just let me….

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Carlos: Good God, man, have you no decency? An eight year old girl died at the marathon!

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tiki: Oh man, OK… I guess I’m 0 for 2 then.  I thought that was an ad as well for muscular dystrophy or something. That girl just doesn’t look right. But that does bring up the weirdness of a lot of the wounded that day wearing red, and all these red shirt references.

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Carlos: Oh, shag means sex. That’s awful. You know what? I’m done with this interview.

tiki: No, please… I’m sorry. I really want to finish your story – We haven’t even gotten to Jeff yet. Please… America needs to know there are still heroes out there selflessly protecting them. Let’s get back to that fence – looks like you had some “boots on the ground” support.

Carlos: Yes, there were actual U.S. Marines in full gear marching the marathon for our troops. One of them was marching in memory of my son.

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tiki: Wow, even wearing combat boots for a 26 mile run. That’s amazing that they finished the race exactly around the time of the bombing to help you out.

Carlos: Not amazing… the work of God. But then again, Marines will always be there to help you out!

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tiki: It looks like the bombing just happened… there’s still smoke wafting through the air.

Carlos: That’s our troops!

tiki: I’m wondering, how come you don’t see those Marines in any other photos?

Carlos: There’s another photo!

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tiki: OK, two photos. That street looks oddly debris free.

Carlos: Can we move on to when I save Jeff?

tiki: Sure.

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tiki: OK, the fence is down – mission accomplished. And well done I might add.

Carlos: Thanks.

tiki: What happened then?

Carlos: Well, I was just starting to take a breather putting my hat back on when I noticed that some people were finally paying attention to the guy with no legs who was bleeding for five minutes on the ground ten feet away from me.

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tiki: You’d think he would’ve died from shock and blood loss already. Or at least lost consciousness.

Carlos: I know. That’s when I saw that absolutely no one was trying to stop the bleeding! Not even the medical professionals. They were just trying to get him on a wheelchair. So I ran over and said “Hey, we gotta stop his bleeding right now!” and pinched his femoral artery with my finger which I guess was difficult for the medics to locate because it wasn’t spurting blood all over like major arteries always do.

tiki: What was the medics’ response?

Carlos: Well, since I was the only one who seemed to know what he was doing, they all looked to me: “Cowboy, what should we do next?” they asked me and I said, “That’s why I got the fence down! Let’s get him out of here, now! Let’s roll!” And we were off.

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tiki: And there you are, in the most famous photo from the event. Almost iconic now. How does that make you feel?

Carlos: It makes me always remember what I was thinking at the time.

tiki: Which was?

Carlos: “This is gross, this is gross, this is gross, this is gross…” [laughing] Sorry, even selfless heroes have their squeamish moments.

tiki: At least you did it. Not even the people wearing sterilized gloves or vests stating PHYSICIAN in bold letters helped. Hey I’m wondering, what was it like to work with Steven Spielberg? This photo also kinda makes me wonder why a stretcher wasn’t used to transport Jeff considering his condition. Oh, and look – there’s random Nike ballcap guy with a sidearm again.

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Carlos: That was an amazing surprise seeing Spielberg there. He just seemed to take charge, you know? And a humble man at that… he kept telling everybody to call him “Dr. Wolf”, like he didn’t want people to know how selfless he really was.

tiki: Um, Carlos, you do know this was a faked, staged and scripted event – just like a movie. That’s why Spielberg was there… to help “direct” it.

Carlos: Uh.. what?

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tiki: And you’re acting too, Breck.

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Carlos: Whoa, whoa… your people said you wouldn’t bring up this conspiracy crap! I’m a real person, you know… I’m listed on Wikipedia.

tiki: You’re also busted on WellAware1.com.

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Carlos: That’s it, I’m outta here! [takes off shirt microphone, throws it to the floor] This is a hatchet job. You should be ashamed of yourself!

tiki: Wait, you haven’t even heard my theory that the “hot snatch for Dzhokhar” is played by the girl on the left…

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age of volcanoes disclaimer: Interview is as real as the Boston Bombing.

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Folks, this time they have gone too far. They’re even majorly working the conspiracy theorists – I swear, if I hear the words “False Flag” one more goddamn time, I’m going to vomit. On Alex Jones.

This isn’t a false flag (I’m allowing myself to write the words), it’s an event used to make them money, allow them more overt control of your life (they already have complete control over it, they’re just getting lazy), and continue programming your perception of reality. If you doubt me, check out all the labels on the microphones when the Boston officials were giving their initial press conferences about the event – oddly (but no) you will see “Info Wars” front and center before any of the major networks.

And if you’ve noticed, they didn’t think all this up yesterday… they were prepping for it years ago with “Carlos” making headlines as early as 2004. And they were working off programming from decades prior:

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Where the Adonis/ Dionysus / rockstar image was reinforced and solidified:

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Steven Spielberg, Disney’s Eisner family, Bradley Cooper, Anderson Cooper… hopefully you’re beginning to see all the connections to realize most all of the human reality you are experiencing is complete bullshit being used to continuously program you and keep you asleep and enslaved. Keep in mind Disney now owns Marvel Comics and Star Wars. Disney also (unsuccessfully) attempted to copyright the term “Seal Team Six”. Um…. huh?

If you’re thinking that’s impossible given the scope of control over everything – government, media, military, entertainment – and the job of finding a lot of people who are perfectly willing to say “Yes I’d love to be a prostitute for evil!”, then I’d recommend not watching TV so much anymore:

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(ABC is owned by Disney too, by the way)

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They’ve been at this a very, very long time and they know how to work your consciousness in so many different ways…. 

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They’re even mocking your ignorance….

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And preying upon your apathy….

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air

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Taking care of our wounded returning soldiers and insuring they can return to normalcy should be a top priority and automatically budgeted with our government (you know, who they are really fighting for) but more and more we are (at least) given the perception that this is not the case. 

Therefore it is the job of the false persona of Carlos Arrendondo to make you think that something is actually being done about our brave sons and daughters being corporate mercenaries, or at least continuously remind you of their suffering [Did you know Carlos got Gov. Mitt Romney to lower the flags in Massachusetts to half-staff once to "Remember Our Fallen Troops"? Wow, what a guy! That does absolutely nothing!]. This is probably all one giant [extremely] evil scam to make you want to donate to the dozens and dozens of “Support Our Troops” type charities out there, especially for wounded or fallen soldiers, with only a couple of them being truly legitimate and truly helping veterans. The evil ones already have numerous fake “Feed the Children” type charities out there.

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Nonetheless, I think people need to come away from all this with a little bit of hope – a true story about a real hero helping people after an explosion: My father.  

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Even though my father was under the misguided belief he was part of a military protecting American freedom and liberty, his heroism wasn’t motivated by ideology but rather simply putting other people’s lives before his own. I’ve made his story a bit ambiguous for anonymity, but also to illustrate that he’s nobody special… just a man. He was never interviewed on Good Morning America, and never got a visit from Bradley Cooper or Anderson Cooper in the hospital. He did however receive the highest peacetime award our military bestows: The Navy and Marine Corps medal.  

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The Day A Submarine Died

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Many, many years ago, my father was an officer serving aboard a U.S. Navy diesel powered submarine. His sub had been in a Naval base shipyard for several weeks until it was ready to deploy on a months long tour, which would get underway the next day. Obviously the day before, since a full boat’s compliment wasn’t needed, most of the crew was on liberty until the following morning with just a skeleton crew aboard making final preparations.

My father was one of those on liberty, spending the afternoon that day getting his drink on at the nearby base’s officer’s club before returning to his quarters on the sub for the night. He was probably doing an excellent job of it until one of the club’s staff came up and said, “Sir, we’ve just received a call from the pier sentry where your sub is tied. There’s been an explosion.”  He immediately raced to the pier, arriving to see a second explosion rock the submarine violently.

What had happened was that two sailors of the skeleton crew had been rushing through their particular preparations in order to finish early and have more time for liberty. They left for the day, forgetting to stop the charging of the diesel boat’s batteries. Charging a sub’s batteries always generates the by-product of hydrogen gas, and normally a submarine’s ventilation system is prepared to handle that, but not when the batteries are continuously charging after reaching full charge. So much hydrogen had built up, all that was needed was the tiniest spark and 

boom.

With the sub’s Captain still many minutes away from arriving, my father quickly started forming firefighting and rescue teams with the handful of crew that had arrived, those that had escaped, and the base’s emergency responders. He led the rescue team, saving the lives of four men.

Three times my father entered Hell enclosed in a floating steel can. Only twice he would came back out.

A third explosion had blown him against the sub’s bulkhead like a rag doll, causing multiple fractures and burns in a second. Even though others were able to carry his body clear of the sub quickly after, he was pronounced dead on the pier by medical personnel treating the injured. All in all, five men were injured and six were dead.

But wait…

not six,

five.

When the ambulances started taking men to the hospital, an observant medic miraculously noticed some sign of life from my father. He was still alive, and rushed to intensive care at a local hospital. He would be in critical condition for weeks, and in rehabilitation for six months. Amazingly, when he had finally all healed, he presented very little indication that this disaster had ever happened to him except for one thing: His left leg had been smashed so badly it needed to be amputated above the knee. His Navy career was over.

Well, maybe not just one thing. He was no longer the young, daring, passionate rouge he once was, instead becoming emotionless, distant, and throwing himself into his work. Being born well over a decade later [thankfully he didn't lose his studliness], I only knew the father who raised me with engineering terms: “With the proper lever and fulcrum you can move the world, son.” Not the father who was flying airplanes at age 14.

Yet my father has left a living legacy: Four men. Four men who got another chance at life due to his selfless heroism. Four men who married, produced children, then grandchildren.

There are literally dozens of people alive today who owe basically their entire existence to my father’s brave actions.

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Suck on that, Carlos Breck.

If all you evil bastards all got together, you still wouldn’t make one-tenth of the man my father was. Even with one leg.

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ONGOWA!

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bb wgme_raw_news_416_bostonhel_zQmkC

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By the way, my father HATED Israel. Not the Jews entirely, just the ones that were responsible for the murder of 34 sailors aboard the USS Liberty. Nonetheless, he would occasionally remind people that there are very few Stars of David on the headstones in the cemeteries of Normandy.

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Wait, one last thing: Although I’ve never experienced the horror of losing both legs, it does perplex me as to how a West Point graduate and Afghanistan veteran could sell out to this lie. I guess it was the way I was raised.

Lt. Nick Vogt, you’re lucky my father has long since passed away. If he were alive, knew of your acting prostitution and happened to meet you, he would probably slap you harder than Patton slapped that cowardly (Jewish) soldier during WWII.

That would be because you are aiding those screwing over your brothers in the military, not particularly humanity in general (which would be the reason I would slap you.) My father didn’t lose his honor with his leg.

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bb boston-bombing-victim-actually-nick-vogt

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The Razor’s Edge (3): Dhrama!

•May 12, 2013 • 6 Comments

stop! 966942-vancouver-riots

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_________________________________

One rule for us

For you another

Do unto yourself

As you would see fit for your brother

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Is that not within your realm of understanding?

A fifty second capacity of mind too demanding?

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Oh then, poor unfortunate you

There are a myriad of things you can do

Like pick up a pad and paper

Or go and talk to a friend

The history of the future

No violence or revenge

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Your shame is never ending

Just one psychological drama after another

You are guilty, so how you ever entered into this life

God only knows the infinite complexities of love

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We all have the ability, our freedom is fragile

We all laugh and cry don’t we?

We all bleed and we smile

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“Drama”

Erasure

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living tiki personal post note: Don’t call it a comeback. Just another (extremely long) delay in postings and comment responses. To all my readers – from the trolls to those who seriously love me – I’m deeply sorry. I have neglected much. Another post became extremely difficult for me to get out – 2013 has just been a continuation of 2012 which has overwhelmed me, shut me down, and turned my brain into a lobotomized armadillo on a pogo stick. A mental breakdown of sorts (point – evil ones). Yet the fact that I did get it out is significant. It means a change must occur – I really can’t tolerate this theater reality anymore. I must stop having a flirtation with overstanding this reality…  and truly get to it. And I must stay connected.

And grounded (where else would a tiki be?). I have been recarved.

So consider this post is an eclectic mishmash of the events of the past few months (except for Bean Town – that’s next and soon).

And now the beginning of a transition into something better….. 

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***

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The header photo is from June 2011 – a hockey riot in Vancouver had caused police to knock down Australian Scott Jones and his Canadian girlfriend Alexandra Thomas as they exited a pub watching the game. Alexandra injured her ankle, couldn’t stand, and was starting to freak out at everything instantly happening. Scott decided that kissing her was the best way to calm her down. It is still unknown why people started rioting over a stupid hockey….

hey wait a minute, the Canucks lost?! And to those Boston wankers? Oi, I feel like smashing something! You! You look like a Bruins fan, I don’t like your face! Oh yeah? Well, why don’t you say that over here?! You and your mama!

*ahem*  Sorry about that. Not so much a hockey fan as I am of a good bar brawl every now and then.

OK, OK… I’m just a fan of alcohol.

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And a good punch.

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tiki 310px-Shasta_TikiPunch

(Image provided by the Celtic Rebel. I’m certain other punches can be provided as well.)

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Alright, now that I’ve thoroughly confused everybody and lost half the readers, I guess it’s time to actually have some relevant information.

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THE GREAT ANTI-CLIMAX

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Yep, folks, we all just went through a fail, a disappointment, and a coitus interruptus all rolled into one. Sort of like being a young boy back in 1980 and saying to yourself in a movie theater:

“Hey, it’s been like over an hour and a half already and Han Solo just got taken by Boba Fett. Is there even gonna be time left for a rescue? Wait, why are the characters lining up like the end of the first film? This can’t be the end of the movie! It can’t be… more stuff needs to happen! Wait… end credits?! Noooooooooo!

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stop! End

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It was the first time I ever encountered a “….to be continued” for a movie. It wouldn’t be continued for another three years, and we all now know what conclusion I was rewarded with for my involuntary patience.

Well, all of us on planet Earth just went through basically the same thing. Surely something was supposed to happen around the Mayan end-date and….. nothing. To be continued.

More than that, I think everyone – burnt-out and overwhelmed with this BS artificial reality – expected at least a change, or an end to the way our civilization has been run so far.  Kind of like how everyone expected World War I to be the “war to end all wars” (That sure worked out well). Nope. To be continued. With the same old bullshit.

Lights, camera, action…

drama!

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stop! red-stars-over-hollywood

Please won’t you help keep us employed by paying attention to what we say and do? Otherwise we’ll have to go back to our standby occupation of ‘Jew semen receptacles.’

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[Above image taken from Hollywood's YouTube reaction to Sandy Hook, but not created by me]

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You’d think that the Sandy Hook shooting, being so ridiculously fake, would’ve been the trigger event to finally make the masses wake up and demand some serious reality, but no. They’d still rather demand a plan to end gun violence, or demand their congressperson end Obamacare, or demand that GMO food products be labeled with a warning.

But tiki, aren’t these actions doing good and making positive change?

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prop37labeldees

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Ask yourself this: When did they have a vote to forbid GMO’s from being used in our food?

Can’t remember? That’s because they didn’t.

You only get to vote on if you are told about their use.

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prop37b

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This reality is not yours. It’s theirs. It’s why I call them the evil shapers of our reality. Face it, you were born and raised on an occupied planet. You will get their reality whether you like it or not, and they also like to exploit your possible resistance to it by influencing you to stand in front of your local supermarket trying to get everyone to vote yes on prop 37.

I think wasteful causes like that are actually done by the evil ones simply for the comedic entertainment value….

What will win over the minds of supermarket shoppers today…. fearful ignorance or compliant zombification?

zombie

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Has everyone had enough of fake girlfriends yet?

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stop!manti_te_o__playing_through_tremendous_adversity__hd_-1

(And no, my last TALES FROM THE VOLCANO doesn’t count. I wasn’t trying to gain sympathy from a fictional girlfriend’s fictional death to help win a game for Notre Dame. Plus my fictional dialogue for my fictional girlfriend was just slightly more realistic.)

“tiki babe, if anything happens to me, you promise that you’ll stay there and you’ll write and you’ll honor me through the way you write. Until then, I eagerly and passionately await the next opportunity to be your exotic love slave. XOXO, Haruka.”

(See the difference?)

By the way, Manti Te’o was just recently given a job with the San Diego Chargers. I’m still waiting for someone to give me millions to blog.

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How about fake schoolteachers?

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sandy lie

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I profiled Christa in a prior post long ago, but when I was under the belief she had really died….

Nowadays Ed Chiarini just makes me shake my head and say “…figures.”

What is the real truth about both supposedly disastrous shuttle missions?

Who cares anymore? It’s becoming a whole full moon of lies. NASA probably had an easier time faking the moon landing than making Kirk Douglas’ wife appear to be a different person, considering that he’s married to The Joker: 

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rocketboy

Didn’t need Ed’s ear comparison, just that smile. Still appreciate the effort though.

Just for fun, see if you can guess the well known actor playing the (fictional) role of the last astronaut to walk on the moon, Gene Cernan (video spotted by Ed – nice catch):

Click here and think of Moses

And please don’t freak out when he says “… go back to Mars”. He meant our attention, yet he does want you to waste your time thinking he made a Fruedian slip.

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Some readers may think I’m a bit harsh at times on these people faking my reality. I honestly try to refrain from attacking them superficially [i.e. looks], but it seriously pisses me off how warped they are making our human reality.

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ufo prtscr-capture5

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One thing’s for sure, you won’t find the truth on C-SPAN.

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Had enough of the drama?

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stop! darren_drama_free

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Much like Darren, I know I have. I get enough of it in my personal daily life, never mind spillover from other people’s personal daily lives. Not too surprisingly, the ultimate cause of all that drama can be traced back to them, but the responsibility for it….

that’s all you, baby. 

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stop! 3

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living tiki personal note: [Sorry, this post gets a bit drunken-rambly, and I'm gonna include some boring personal life stuff now, so conspiracy bustin' starts a little further and you may have to look for it. Did I mention I'm a fan of alcohol?]

You may remember this series from a while ago – My attempt to understand the programming implanted in all of us concerning men and women, gender roles, relationships, and naturally, World War I.

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r bscap0617lt7

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I jokingly mentioned WWI, but not really – I see it as the beginning of the consolidation (not uniting) of the world and it’s people (to make the programming of everyone easier, and that’s about the time I see Celtic Rebel’s social engineering started showing up).

The film The Razor’s Edge covers a lot of that territory. I’ve made it this series theme because for the past year I’ve felt much like the main character played by Bill Murray. Searching for meaning and purpose, he worked simple, laborious jobs such as coal mining and fish-packing to support himself, but also to free his thoughts in which to observe the reality around him and study the writings of philosophical masters by candlelight at night. He was also torn between two women.

I’ve been working simple, laborious jobs for the past year, but not willingly. When I started this blog to overstand reality (not “escape” it), little did I know a series of unfortunate events would cause me to fall into a increasing debt spiral. I’m sure you’ve caught some commentary about that. I’ve personally lost a large amount of time and money along with a good part of what I used to own. And trust me, when you’re injured, vultures do show up.

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stop! delicious_dead_bee_and_hungry_ants

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Yet so do Samaritans, and I would like every one of my donators to know their funds did not go towards any of the crap of our prison reality, but were mainly spent on delicious vegetarian nourishment and a variety of liquid entertainment [did I mention I'm a fan of alcohol?] Just wish I could’ve added some practice at one handed bra-unhooking to that list.

Every time I worked harder to get out of my nightmare (with only menial jobs available part-time to supplement my full time job), some new problem or situation would arise to counter any progress. Like my vehicle breaking down beyond affordable repair at the beginning of December (and me just recently spending a lot getting it smogworthy).

It now takes me an hour and a half to get to work by bus.

Three hours of my day taken up by travel, five days a week. I’d say there’s nothing more motivating than that to rise above my present predicament. Well that, and the fact that occasionally someone might pull out a machete on the bus and cut somebody, which happened to the bus just fifteen minutes prior to mine – the one we passed surrounded by twelve cop cars.

One more just for laughs….

I was writing most of this post during my first week off from work in over a year (I wouldn’t call it a vacation). My first day off was on a Sunday, but I had to go to my full-time job on Saturday so they could get the maximum amount of work out of me before I was gone a week ["Yeah... I'm gonna need you to come in on Saturday" - someone was actually wearing a t-shirt of that quote on the bus that day! - no kidding] but I started off the day with a bad cold which was getting worse with chilly rain. By coming in, my cold turned to pneumonia, and I spent most all of my week off entirely in bed [and I still haven't had the chance to fully recover from... my health is suffering for it.]

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OK. Now I’m done. And I do mean that. I’m tired of the drama.

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stop! 1

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How would I define drama (other than the theatrical definition)?

Bullshit in life that wouldn’t exist had this reality happened naturally.

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This false reality becomes more apparent when you view how we are behaving as a species.

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west images

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And the nature of how our physical bodies are being targeted.

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pineal_fluoride1

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Usually it involves targeting will, creativity, passion, and/or our connection to the divine.

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This post is a significant one for me – I feel I’m on the cusp of my life, financial and otherwise, finally coming back into balance. Yet there is still much work to be done (and overcoming a reality induced chronic fatigue) but I will soon be at the starting line I bent a knee upon so long ago. Only this time, I’m more aware of how the race is rigged.

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So I’ll plan on sailing with an outrigger.

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tiki kon-tiki

The most kick-ass sailboat ever built: Thor Hyerdahl’s Kon-TIKI!

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Two years ago I predicted that this scene would be in my near future:

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tiki-tiki-yokohama2

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It has extremely annoyed me that I am even further behind on that prediction coming true.

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By the way, by searching for this photo again, it revealed to me the exact location of actual Heaven. No, I’m not kidding. You see, I thought that photo was staged, that a wonderful place like that could never exist because that would mean it is Heaven.

Yet it’s real… it exists! HEAVEN EXISTS!

The local Japanese deceptively call it Tiki Tiki Yokohama to protect the identification of Heaven, and have hidden it near Yokohama’s Railway station:

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tikitiki

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Actual Heaven. I could be drunk in actual Heaven right now!  [sobbing]

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“Why yes, scantily hula-clad Japanese Heaven angel…. I am a fan of alcohol!”

- I could be saying that in Heaven right now!  [more sobbing]

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tiki menu01

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And I would experience no ordinary intoxication, oh no my friends.

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tiki 2835Large

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This would be Heaven-drunk.

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tiki staff

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And I could be there! Right now! Drunk in Heaven!

Click here to experience YouTube audio of the song playing in Heaven right now!

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tiki 5015_medium

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But why?

Why am I not Heaven-drunk right now Heaven-drunkenly attempting to sample one of Heaven’s angels’ coconut-bra milk?

WHY?

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Because I allowed the drama get to me, and forgot that I continuously create my own reality. And by letting the drama get to me, I also allowed bad luck, financial fluctuations, vultures, and daily drama to get to me too. What’s the result? The opposite of Heaven! [more sobbing]

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Plus the evil ones often enjoy creating certain drama that’s kinda hard to ignore because it kinda does real stuff like kill people and destroy property….

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k Nuclear_Simpsons

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The quake, tsunami, and Fukushima meltdown were all part of a disastrous, crippling event designed and artificially made to happen. I explained that in a prior post… just wanted to remind everybody the evil ones are often that evil in their shaping of reality.

There are currently three U.S. Navy sailors suing Japan’s power company, TEPCO, because as part of rescue and assistance after Fukushima they were told by the U.S. Navy it was safe because TEPCO told the Navy it was safe. These sailors are having major health issues and were continuing to set off radiation alarms for many months after the incident.

That’s just three U.S. sailors who were exposed for less than a week.

Imagine what the people who live there are going through.

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k 60k in kyodo meiji park

Thankfully 60,000 of them gathered in a prominent park last year to tell their government they’ve had it with this bullshit (And if the evil ones didn’t start fucking with Japan about 150 years ago, most of their government would be falling on swords in shame right now. Hint, hint.)

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age of volcanoes action news flash: There has been an unprecedented number of seals and sea lions that have beached themselves along the U.S. west coast (including my local area) due to dehydration, starvation, and confusion. Some have wandered far inland and have even jumped into people’s vehicles which stopped to help. The mainstream news cites the cause as a possible major change in food availability or migration. the age of volcanoes asks you: What major change to the Pacific Ocean has occurred in the past year?

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Yet despite my recent discovery that actual Heaven is located in Yokohama, Japan’s drama is their drama that they have to deal with it. Mine is here. I can only support them with what I can and remind them they are preserving Heaven.

Well, OK, actually just one level of Heaven – like Dante’s Inferno, my Heaven has multiple levels… seven in all. OK, OK… six to be honest: Level 5 is exactly like Level 4 – the Tiki Tiki Yokohama Level – but topless.]

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And all I can do for you, dear readers, is to alert you as to spotting this bullshit drama, how it’s going down, and how you can possibly stop it by rising above it… maybe even through inspiration from some real men during World War I…

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Let’s start with this smiling joker who’s been prominently in the news as of late, our Vice-President Joe Biden:

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stop! biden_laughs_ap_605

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He laughed during the debates like he already knew the game was rigged for him to win. But it wasn’t rigged. He knew the bullshit drama he and his evil buddies were spewing forth would most assuredly ‘prompt’ the idiot masses out there to vote the way he wanted.

Yes, we are all that gullible and moronic. It’s how we’ve been programmed – to get caught up in the drama. Next thing you know, you’re standing in front of a supermarket trying to get people to vote yes on Prop. 37. Or freaking out over something called a “Sequestration”.

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Yet Ed Chiarini discovering that this man who plays the fake persona of Joe Biden also plays a couple of other fake personas starts to make his smiling even more understandable, and the intent of the programming more apparent.

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stop!35

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Regard his programming as intended to socially engineer a species:

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Joe Biden created a negative election campaign atmosphere, during which he actually told black supporters that Republican economic policies, “unchained …are gonna put y’all back in chains.” [Take note of the recent release of the film, Django Unchained]

Joe Biden is also currently spearheading the legislative drive to ban various firearms in reaction to the Sandy Hook shooting. 

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Donald Trump has been influential in promulgating a competitive, unstable economic system.

Donald Trump (as a presidential candidate) was also influential in rallying people around wasteful conspiratorial drama: Obama’s birth certificate issue.

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Now then…. let’s stop here for a moment to learn why all the gun grabbing law proposals prompted by the fake event Sandy Hook are complete BS by taking a visit to a strange and mystical land…..

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Did you happen to know there’s a place on this planet where the residents are so casual about automatic assault rifles that they’re giving them away for free to teenage girls?

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stop! Leisure on the beach (1)

Happy Birthday, girls! Here’s your assault rifles!

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I know, right?

Insane!

And wearing a bikini along with the assault rifle seems to be encouraged:

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IDF Girls on The Beach With Guns

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Why are these people are giving guns to the most emotionally unstable demographic of their population?

 Well, it’s most likely a display of force to hostile neighbors by showing them that they are even arming their teenage daughters…

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…but personally I think it’s because they hate men:

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stop! israeli-girls

Oh, whoops! Sorry ladies, was that my bad pick-up line?

Excuse me, I was distracted and disturbed by the clown-cone on the counter and somehow didn’t notice you have immediate access to automatic assault rifles.

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Hmm, I’ve really got to get out of this country… armed teenage bikini girls… continuously getting turned on and frightened… rapidly circulating blood flow between heart and penis making me woozy…

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Vagina…

Rifle…

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Vagina…

Rifle…

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Vagina…

Rifle…

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Vagina…

Rifle…

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Vagina…

Rifle…

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Stop, please! I can’t take this anymore! Getting delirious… losing consciousness…

Vagina…

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Rifles!

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stop! military_woman_israel_army_000248_jpg_530

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*THUNK!*

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[20 minutes later]

Uhhh…. where am I?

Oh….

that’s right, I’m in Israel.

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Say, miss, I didn’t happen to grab your butt, say “vagina”, and then pass out, did I?

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stop! idf images

I did?

Crap.

Um… you’re going to kill me now, aren’t you?

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Funny how smiling Joe doesn’t mention that place.

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But what he and the Donald are doing goes far beyond seizing weapons and providing conspiratorial drama-fuel when you take into (Ed’s) account the same actor also plays a third role in our reality: Jimmy Page, the guitarist for Led Zeppelin.

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So… if you were wondering why the hell our government was recently honoring a British rock band, now you know.  

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stop!

There you have it folks, the most gay looking award our government bestows. It’s even making Dustin wish he could be Tootsie again.

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Yep, a British rock band. And why the hell would Led Zeppelin even do this?

That’s the official seal of the President in the upper right of this promotional poster:

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Led Zeppelin has been all over the radio and media in the past few months. They recently released 2007 concert video and audio recordings:

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The media even made a big deal at how two Zeppelin songs were going to be played on the TV series Revolution like it was some sort of milestone – they apparently forgot the band had already whored-out by lending a song to a car ad on TV. [Revolution is produced by J.J. Abrams by the way - and there you have a Spielberg-Star Trek-Star Wars connection. And with Zeppelin's Atlantic label, you have a Virgin-Branson-Icke connection. Most all of our reality seems to be happening by design. All these rock bands that the Rebel and Ed are revealing as complete made-up BS are integral.]

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Notably absent from the award ceremony was our vice president, smiling Joe.

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He sure looks incredibly similar to Jimmy Page, doesn’t he?

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stop! images

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For me again, it’s that smile.

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If you want to see something really creepy, watch Jimmy’s performance at the closing ceremony of China’s 2008 Olympics – it not only looks and sounds like some dark occult ceremony, the most disturbing part is that Jimmy never stops smiling.

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If you even slightly examine Led Zeppelin’s music, you will realize it’s a bit more complex than your average rock and utilizes melodies which translate very well into classical music.

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This is a band named Kashmir which classically covers Zeppelin adding a Middle Eastern musical influence.

Here’s the Zeppelin song Kashmir classically rendered to musically illustrate how their songs exhibit an occultish timelessness:

Kashmir by The Symphonic Roadshow

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Oh let the sun beat down upon my face

And stars fill my dream

I’m a traveler of both time and space

To be where I have been

To sit with elders of the gentle race

This world has seldom seen

They talk of days for which they sit and wait

All will be revealed

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“Kashmir”

Led Zeppelin

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It’s quite obvious Led Zeppelin is using familiar melodies that humans consciously and subconsciously respond to. It’s also obvious they are visually influencing our conscious and subconscious too:

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(Thanks to the Celtic Rebel for making me see this album cover again with new eyes.)

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Led Zeppelin is not just a rock band that just happened along. Their music was programming, shaping our perception of reality and laying the groundwork in our society to allow situations like this one to happen:

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“P.I.E.” stands for Pedophile Information Exchange, and as far as I can tell this British man was actually allowed in public with a sign that said: I want to rape your children.

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The ‘groundwork’ is also why the character “Gene Rosen” from fake Sandy Hook is a media favorite instead of being questioned by reporters (or police) why he kept children who had recently experienced the school shooting in his home for over 30 minutes before contacting anyone:

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Wow, Gene seems the least creepy thing in this image.

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The ‘groundwork’ is ultimately the handiwork of the Jews. It’s why very orthodox Jews in Israel will throw stones at women for dressing too provocatively, but don’t seem to have a problem with this situation:

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stop! israelcrossdress

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The above photo from last year is a couple of Israelis enjoying the recent Jewish holiday of Purim, which involves dressing up in Halloween-type costumes. Here’s a couple of costumed Israeli children from this year:

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stop! no

Happy Purim, everybody! Especially all the residents of New York city!

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The rest of us gentiles have Ishtar:

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easter

And now you know why Jew Hefner dresses goyim women up like bunnies.

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The ‘groundwork’ of insensitivity and racial superiority starts early in Israel. For the rest of us cattle, the ‘groundwork’ of homosexuality and pedophilia starts even earlier.

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If you’re thinking I’m reading way too much into the posture of these Star Wars video game avatars, allow me to show an adult male in the same pose:

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What would you say – gay or normal?

(This is a well known actor – surprising identity revealed at bottom of post.)

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What’s the end result, the desired goal of all this ‘groundwork’?

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Suburbia.

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_________________________________

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Lost in the high street, where the dogs run

Roaming suburban boys

Mother’s got a hairdo to be done

She says they’re too old for toys

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Stood by the bus stop with a felt pen

In this suburban hell

And in the distance a police car

To break the suburban spell

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Let’s take a ride and run with the dogs tonight

In suburbia

You can’t hide, run with the dogs tonight

In suburbia

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Break a window by the town hall

Listen, the siren screams

There in the distance, like a roll call

Of all the suburban dreams

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Let’s take a ride and run with the dogs tonight

In suburbia

You can’t hide, run with the dogs tonight

In suburbia

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I only wanted something else to do but hang around

I only wanted something else to do but hang around

Hang around

Hang around

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It’s on the front page of the papers

This is their hour of need

Where’s a policeman when you need one

To blame the color TV?

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“Suburbia”

Pet Shop Boys

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__________________________________

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With the Celtic Rebel’s revelation of the meaning of the term “dogs”, the evil ones’ programming has turned the young men of our society into latent homosexual, restless, immature boys ready to take out their frustration with plenty of needless and pointless drama.

In other words, the demographic of our species that is the first and (possibly) only line of defense against our reality being taken over has all been essentially neutered.

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We are now fighting our wars with women…

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combat24n-1-web

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…and robots…

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drone pic

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Hey tiki, I kinda got bored with your post and was distracted by an episode of Dr. Who on TV. Weren’t you talking about Joe Biden?

Why yes, imaginary reader in my head, I was. Thanks!

age of volcanoes obscure and pointless pop-culture reference: A tiki dalek!

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tiki-dalek

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The actor who is playing Joe Biden/Donald Trump/Jimmy Page is doing his part to create a reality where all the drama of all the recent shootings isn’t to make you fear the government confiscating your guns and taking over, it’s to make you fear your neighbor.

Especially if he’s black.

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tv images

Treyvon Martin is yet more BS theater played out by these actors. This photo should have tipped you off – the lighting, the look… everything about it reeks of a staged professional shot, not one taken randomly by a friend.

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You see, the government doesn’t have to do anything to subdue the populace when they eventually make reality too unbearable to endure – we will do their job for them by attacking each other.

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Forget about the New World Order, there’s a psychopath living down the street! 

And he’s black!

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django

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And he wants payback…

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stop! dornerbratton

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This ex-LAPD cop turned revengeful assassin is just more BS drama created to make you fear your neighbor. His claims of racism and cronyism are reinforced by all the racial strife ‘groundwork’ laid by Treyvon Martin and a multitude of other fake race “incidents”.

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manhunt

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Yet again, you don’t need Ed’s keen eye to see the deception, you just need to be paying attention – like with this related story intended to make you fear the cops as well: 

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Supposedly, the cops in Torrence thought that this truck was Chris Dorner’s Black Nissan Titan [huh?] and decided to shoot first and ask questions later – You know, questions like: “Hey, I wonder who his passenger might be? I better shoot the fuck out of the passenger side of the window just to be sure it’s not another bad guy.”

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stop! xgtzohC

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Instead (as the ‘story’ goes), the truck’s occupants were two women delivering newspapers and critically wounded by the cops.

Two women with the biggest lawsuit EVER against the LAPD whom you will NEVER hear about again, because they don’t exist.

age of volcanoes correction: Actually, you did  – they were given an “undisclosed settlement” by LA city officials in March. Now you will never hear about them again.

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Yet all this always begs the question: How does one exist in and overcome this artificial reality, when the fake drama mostly causes very real death and hardship?

Like a world war?

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Like before, I don’t need to tell you how god awful WWI was, just look at any photo.

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Some photos also show how pointless and ridiculous it was too:

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No, that’s not a Monty Python skit – it’s a precursor to radar: The tubes detected the far away sound of approaching aircraft.

Speaking of Monty Python, we have a new Pope:

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pope price

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If you’ve seen the movie Brazil, you would know this to be a perfect match. (Ed and I discussed the Monty Python connections to all these acting shenanegans on recent Rebel music broadcasts.)

The evil ones are already at work distracting you with the conspiratorial drama: Did the new Pope aid kidnappers during the 70s? Will he be loyal to his Jesuit order? Is he even Hispanic?

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pope1

Did the creator of this image even read that statement, or were they blindly reacting with programming? I may be misinterpreting it, but it sounds to me like he’s saying women help men by providing the thinking and doing because men are only perfectly suited to take money and do nothing.

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World War I was artificially made to happen just like every war, terrorist attack, crazy lone shooter, and “natural” disaster is artificially made to happen these days.

If you just casually look at the political cartoons expressing some German opinion at the time on who was really responsible for their involvement and defeat, the usual suspects tend to show up….

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Back-stabbing seems to be the theme.

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Apparently this sentiment was widespread enough to make German Jews produce fliers stating that 12,000 of them had died for the fatherland.

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I’ll leave you to decide whether that number is accurate, but I did want to note the only bit of good (and hope for humanity) that came out of WWI, the Christmas Truce of 1914:

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On Christmas Day 1914 along the western front of the war, British and German fighting had temporarily ceased due to both armies being Christian. Because the new form of warfare – trench warfare – brought the soldiers in close proximity with each other, the week prior allowed the two enemies to see how much they were alike, and realize how they were being unwittingly duped into fighting one another. That day, upon hearing Christmas carols being sung, soldiers from each side ventured out from the trenches and greeted each other in peace.

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Handshakes, cigarettes, and liquor were exchanged by men who just days prior were attempting to brutally kill each other.

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They even played [props to Ms. Robinson] a game of soccer [Germany won].

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Although the fighting resumed the next day, those who participated in the truce (on both sides) no longer had the will to fight effectively and were “reassigned”. Future fraternization of any kind with the enemy was strictly forbidden by the high commands of both armies.

They couldn’t allow people’s humanity to ruin a perfectly good war.

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Such a truce would never take place among the soldiers of today. The men have been programmed too much, seeing reality through the distorted drama of the evil ones’ lenses.

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pork-patch

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They have also been programmed to think that manliness is all about bravado and kicking-ass, and where one only needs to present that facade – not even being able to seriously and personally back it up if necessary, because typically they have the evil ones laws (or strength in numbers) on their side.

What’s the result? Roaming suburban boys who went from thinking they were kick-ass wearing their Punisher logo t-shirts….

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punisher_by_planetdarkone

(No, no… this pose isn’t gay. Not at all.)

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….to roaming corporate-owned (older) boys who think they are kick-ass wearing their Punisher Blackwater Craft logo ballcaps.

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Comparison Of Alleged Suspect To Black Op Mercanaries

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Or else they are drawn to those occupations which cause the Imperial March from The Empire Strikes Back to continuously run through one’s head:

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boston Police-ConvergeMass4

Apparently the word ‘overkill’ is not in the Boston Police handbook.

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A message from the living tiki to the Boston Police Department: Guys, if you’ve haven’t realized it by now, martial law… um, I mean a “lock-down”, solves absolutely nothing. All you are doing is denying yourselves and the rest of the males of Boston the simple joy of seeing hot women walking down the street. That’s it.

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boston yes

Stacy, do you think the testosterone parade is over?

I don’t know, but Jenny’s going downstairs to see….

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You! Female! This is a man-zone! Stay behind the screen door! 

boston rb517a12ff

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Is it possible for the men of today to have another “Christmas Truce”? To step outside the drama, the programming, and have the balls enough to walk across a battlefield, weapons left behind and arms extended in friendship?

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germancomrades1415_l

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Doubtful. They’ve all been “reassigned”.

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What can you take from this post? What is there to be learned? I guess the best way to combat the drama is with dharma, which is simply a hip sounding Indian word for “mindfulness”. Mindfulness of every action you take, and every word you speak. Every song you hear, and every news event you see.

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stop! dharma-wheel

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Drama makes you unmindful and forget yourself.

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And it makes you forget that something as simple (and “unmanly”) as a kiss can change a tragedy into a comedy:

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stop! Kissing-Couple169-408x264

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ONGOWA!

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[You may have guessed Zac Efron, but Clint Eastwood is the man on the phone with his boyfriend.]

TALES FROM THE VOLCANO: The One Second Apocalypse [Part 2]

•January 23, 2013 • 6 Comments

clock-is-floating-in-space-time

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age of volcanoes post note: Again, very very sorry about delay. Will explain with another topical post soon [many changes happening in my life, but yet it still sucks.... how did that happen?] In the meantime, take a break from reality with, um… reality?

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I’m here.

What?

I’m here, tiki. 

Haruka. I could barely hear her above the wailing, yet the familiarity in a most unfamiliar environment kept me from screaming as well. Where?

Right beside you, like before.

I thought that was me. What is this? What’s happened? If I currently had a heart, it would’ve been pounding.

I don’t know. I don’t know!

She was still in very close proximity, and I began to feel as if I was absorbing her thoughts and memories. Due to the circumstances, I wasn’t initially focused on her and quickly realized what I was ‘hearing’ was telepathy. I was receiving mental images and thoughts of a life before it was told to me. By focusing my mind I could block out most of the telepathic noise and chatter happening with the billions of minds all clamoring to be heard.

Oh my god! an alarmed thought rang from Haruka’s mind.

I saw it too: One of the lights, far off in the distance, had moved. In a nanosecond it bolted right next to us. It’s light was less bright, and appeared chaotic in it’s streaming. It didn’t feel friendly either – I couldn’t hear it’s thoughts yet sensed it thoroughly examining mine.

Jesus Christ! My mind cried out. The light shot away just as quick as it arrived. There… there it is! I thought to myself as I spied where it had traveled to. It was now extremely far away, repeating what it had done with us with another stationary light. There were hundreds of them as far as I could tell – you couldn’t see them until they moved, and then the movement would seem to be more of a teleportation.

They’re us! The lights are our souls! My mind exclaimed, partly to share with Haruka. Each one of us was a starburst of prismatic white light continuously streaming outward from a center. Whatever the energy generating source was, it’s characteristics did not look physical. Besides, I was seeing it with eyes I didn’t have.  Are we dead?  Why can’t we move? And what the hell are those lights that can? I wondered, again watching them zip back and forth in a game of cosmic pinball.

It was finally then that I was truly able to take in the entire scene around me. I initially looked at the lights as if they were randomly placed, but now could see they took on the slight outline of the continents of the Earth, as if viewing our planet at night from space being illuminated in various areas by outdoor electrical lights. It took me a moment to notice, since I was seeing a concave perspective of the other side of our planet with nothing inside to block the view.

All physical matter seemed to be gone, leaving only that which is not material in the exact place it was when the physical universe disappeared. But why can’t we move? I waited for a possible response from Haruka, but heard none. I focused on her mind and realized her parents were calling out to her, with her answering and likewise calling out to her brother. People were starting to comprehend the nature of our situation, some more than others. I suddenly received a thought from my sister in my mind. Out of the billions of lights I was able to see, I knew exactly which one was her.

I know, I know what’s happened! Haruka thought out. Oh, how could I have been so stupid… I’m an engineer!

Tell me, tell me! I feel like I’m getting stupider by the….. and then I knew too. But the explanation wasn’t given to me, and it didn’t come from Haruka. Some other consciousness had plucked the strings of knowledge in my mind, creating a melody that was the answer. Who? Who was that? I asked …and then I knew that too. My gaze shifted to the center of the empty ‘Earth sphere’ created by all our stationary souls. Oh my god, there She is.

There, at the heart of our currently invisible planet was a singular light, larger and brighter than all the others but not by much, which surprised me. It was the spiritual being which had incarnated into the Earth in order for it to create life. It was Gaia. 

I love you, came an emotional reply rather than a verbal one. The unconditional and automatic love a mother has for all her children, good or bad. But not all Her children were able to hear Her at the moment and most were still unable to understand what was happening, mentally deafened to Her calming thoughts by their fear.

Simplified, the universe experienced a blackout.

All matter is energy, and all energy oscillates, meaning it swings back and forth between two invisible poles. Back and forth, back and forth, a billion times a second. And every time all the energy in the universe reaches one of the poles, it disappears – displaying no light, heat, or any physical properties at all. In layman’s terms, the switchlight of the physical universe gets turned on and off a billion times a second, much like a strobe light. But a strobe light blinking so incredibly fast the light is perceptively seamless and unbroken. 

I laughed in my mind. So did Haruka. We both had fathers who would let us and our siblings know we were being too noisy by turning the lights of whatever room we were in rapidly on and off. I envisioned the Creator yelling “Hey you damn kids, knock it off!” But the Creator wasn’t the one responsible for this power outage – it was humanity.

Already there was a whole gamut of forces affecting linear physical time, but the most powerful of all of them is consciousness. Our Solar System was in a cycle period where time was speeding up, yet we were adding rocket fuel to that turbo charged cosmic pocketwatch with all our artificial human time constructs and demands upon them. If Greenwich Mean Time wasn’t bad enough, all of humanity was experiencing a reality where they were constantly focused on the past or the future, rarely the present. I thought of my bedside alarm clock, set fifteen minutes into the future. Time was like a ball on a string attached to a pole and winding around it. The more it wound, the closer the ball would be to the pole and the faster it would appear to move. Eventually the ball would reach the pole and stop momentarily before it started to lazily unwind. This certainly did explain all the paranormal weirdness humanity had been experiencing lately – the various dimensions could be considered the string, becoming compressed together and allowing a bit of dimensional bleed through. It also answered my question as to why we couldn’t move. We were still alive, just the energy that made our bodies hadn’t oscillated yet – the ball still needed to lazily unwind. We just knocked it around so hard it was temporarily stuck.

For an extremely rare moment in the history of creation, energy decided to take just a little bit longer than a billionth of a second to reappear and swing back to the opposite imaginary pole. 

And since for that fleeting moment the universe didn’t exist, it also meant that time didn’t exist. No wonder I was having trouble grasping if I had been in this state for five minutes or five hours. I wondered if I would even remember this experience, or would it be like a dream – difficult to recall yet right there at the tip of my consciousness. Perhaps I would attempt to remember by writing a fictional short story.

Remember to include me, Haruka thought.

Absolutely, I replied. Although in my story I think I’ll make our souls radiate brighter whenever we talk. It’s sort of bugging me that’s not happening since every episode of Star Trek I’ve seen which had intelligent energy beings always had them glow brighter when…..

And then it hit us again. Not a thunderclap this time, but the sound of a planetary sized freight train – first heard a faint million miles away and then crashing right next to us in a millisecond.

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I gasped for air, and was rewarded with it filling my lungs. I felt wet, as well as another human being in my arms breathing heavily too. The lights had come on in the universe. We were back.

Neither of us could immediately recall what had occurred. Since matter didn’t momentarily exist, that particular memory was stored in our spiritual consciousness, not our physical one.  We both just sat there staring, with a stillness and silence around us enough to allow me to hear each and every drop of water from Haruka’s hair hit the water in the tub. The tremors had ceased. I attempted to break the unnerving silence.

“Um…     holy shit!” I reflexively shouted as the power came back on, and myself not aware it had gone out in the first place. Haruka let out an equivalent remark and splash as the restart also included the hot tub’s heat and jets. Our reactions repeated with each additional noise to follow – dogs barking, car alarms blaring, and finally the portable CD player clicking back on into radio mode.

“…..reports are coming in to our sister-station’s newsroom that we possibly experienced a massive solar flare or something called a coronal mass ejection. I don’t know folks, whatever just happened was pretty freaky but at least it looks like it’s over. I’m just glad were back on the air, so let’s get back to some real rockin’ and rollin’, a little Led Zep for ya….” 

The surreal demanded humor. “How are you enjoying your vacation so far?” I asked with a croaked voice.

“I expected more excitement,” she replied sardonically. Her accent was absent.

“Your English sounds better all of a sudden,” I stated.

“No, you’re speaking fluent Japanese… wait, when did you learn Japanese?”

“No I’m not, you’re speaking Engl… holy cow, I am speaking Japanese! Oh man, this is awesome!” I began to talk in a deep guttural voice as if I was a Sumo wrestler then switched to a rapid high pitch, becoming an imaginary witness to a Godzilla sighting.

“I’m serious, tiki, how in the world can you…. hey, I am speaking fluent English!”

“See? And it was one of your worst subjects too!”

“Not as much as your French. Wait a minute, why do we know these things?”

“I can’t think about that right now because I just noticed I’m freezing!”

“Oh my god!” Haruka blurted as she shuddered in the water. “It’s ice cold!”

I quickly stood up and grabbed a nearby towel, putting it around me. “Holy shit, the towel’s freezing too!”

“So’s my robe!” Haruka squealed as she exited the tub as well. When our bare feet hit cold ground we instantly turned into hairless and shriveled kangaroos, comically hopping around to warm up in the frigid air.

“Did the thermostat of the world just get turned off for a second? Everything’s ridiculously freezing!” I stated through chattering teeth. “We need to get inside!”

Both of us grabbed up our belongings and made a quick dash for the gate. As soon as we were through and reached the front sidewalk entrance to my apartment stairs, we were confronted by Pomeranian yapping, and my neighbor Mrs. McCaffery out walking her dog. We both halted, half-naked and dripping water on the sidewalk. Her mini-wookie continued it’s fervent barking.

“Hi, Mrs. McCaffery… um, sorry… uh, freezing…. the apocalypse…. hot tub…. it’s freezing!” I gasped as we carefully walked by then quickly flew up the steps to my door and went inside. Mrs. McCaffery continued to blankly stare at us with the look of disapproval only a grandmother could give. Sheesh, doesn’t anything faze that woman? I thought, closing the door behind me. 

I ran over to my wall heater and turned it on. “C’mon heat, c’mon!” I ordered as the warmed air started flowing. Haruka quickly joined me as we both removed our towel and robes and shivered in front of the heater, waiting to at least dry off. It also finally gave us a moment to pause and reflect on what had just occurred.

I silently stared at her naked delicate body, wondering how I suddenly knew she loves kimchi, her favorite toy as a child was a stuffed-animal octopus, and during senior year of high school she used to sneak behind the gymnasium with Tetsurou and….

I pulled her close. “Let’s warm up a more proper way,” I stated, looking at her eyes and then shifting my gaze to my bedroom door. She returned my look with one which implied I was tardy in my offer.

“You’re speaking English again, but no translation necessary,” she remarked with a smile. “You know, for the apocalypse, it wasn’t that bad. Bizarre, but not that bad.”

“I just wish I could remember it,” I responded.

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Owari.

Um, I mean…

The End.

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And a beautiful bit of wisdom from one of the greatest spiritual teachers of our time (click for YouTube video link):

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The Real You – Alan Watts

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Epilogue:

Beeeeep!

“tiki, pick up! It’s Garth… pick up the phone! I know you can hear me ’cause you still use that 90′s answering machine with the tape of your girlfriend leaving a racy message… pick up, man! Dude, you’re my last hope…. OK, you know that weird thing that happened after the quakes? It made me swerve into a gully along the interstate in the middle of nowhere and my rig fell on it’s side. The truck’s radio is busted, my cell got smashed, and my motorcycle’s front fork is too twisted to ride. I’m stuck, man. What the hell is going on? Nobody seems to be on the highway either to get a ride from and I’m freakin’ out. I managed to find a rest stop with a pay phone, but there’s not much here… just stink beetles and copies of Watchtower. I can’t reach my friends and I need you to come pick me up, man. Dude, pick up the phone! Please! I’ll totally make….”

Beep. Please deposit 25 cents for the next three minutes.”

“Shit… hang on, I know I have some more change…”

Beep. Please deposit 25 cents for the next three minutes.”

“Goddammit, tiki, pick up the damn phone! Where’s that stupid quarter?”

Beep. Please deposit 25 cents for the next three minutes.”

“I know, I know… don’t disconnect! Shoot! I have a quarter… hol-”

Click! Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.

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TALES FROM THE VOLCANO: The One Second Apocalypse [PART 1]

•January 8, 2013 • 12 Comments

5-a-young-japanese-woman-in-an-open-air-hot-onsen-bath-in-the-snowfield

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To all…

the best year ever.

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living tiki personal note: Much apologies for holiday delay. My vehicle died beyond affordable repair and it’s taking me an hour and a half bus time getting anywhere [So, apologies as well for breaking this post into two parts.] One last bit of crap from 2012. Actually the very last thing was a tie between my home phone dying too and my kitchen sink pipe breaking off with rust when I was attempting to fix a clog. Vaya con Dios, 2012.

age of volcanoes post note: Did you know creative writing is hard? Yep, sorta found that out. But this fictional tale is yet another attempt by yours’ truly to conceptualize, comprehend and overstand this reality happening around me. Hopefully you can take something from it as well. This story originally starred the character named Garth, but I felt I could do a better job of describing “the one second apocalypse” by making myself the protagonist. Consider yourselves lucky – I originally was a supporting character with three women in a hot tub. It could happen.


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The One Second Apocalypse

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The knock at my door startled me.

Hearing Garth’s combat boots clamor up the steps to my apartment, it was predictably the next action he would take, yet I just didn’t expect it to be so loud and abrupt.

“I’m in the back yard!” I called out. “Keep the gate shut!”

Garth was my downstairs neighbor and a truck driver whom I’d only see sporadically. He was the type of guy who had his wallet on a chain, a belt buckle displaying his philosophy, and a new girlfriend watching his place every time he was out on a run who would hit on me by bending over and asking if I thought her jeans were too tight. The last one was Heather. She stole my barbeque grill.

Garth was able to hear me from my balcony, but not see, so loud thumping against wood told me he was again on his way. The gate unlatched and within seconds he rounded the corner of our duplex only to stop in his tracks.

“Whoa, dude… what the hell? You got a hot tub and…. you’re naked?,” he said as if I’d gone mad.

“Hey, I’m not alone,” I replied defensively and motioned to the woman in the tub beside me. “Haruka meet Garth. Garth meet Haruka.”

“Konichiwa,” Haruka greeted with a smile and slight bow of her head. She reflexively covered herself, pulling close a floating wooden bucket we were using for our drinks.

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5 images

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“I met Haruka almost a week ago at that new Japanese restaurant which opened up on 5th. She was four months into some internship with a Japanese company out here, but because of Fukushima related problems she’s now unemployed and has to return home soon. I’m just trying to make her last week in America memorable. Tub rental set me back a bit, but it’s an excellent way to start the new year and is most definitely worth it,” I emphasized by clandestinely pointing to Haruka behind her back. “Sake?”

OK… but why are you naked? It’s freakin’ cold out today!” Garth replied as he slowly backed away – I assumed more due to me than out of manners for Haruka.

“Duh… it’s the way we hot tub here in America,” I stated matter of fact.

“What are you talking about? I don’t think anyon-”

Ahem! Don’t you know? Like Japan, it’s our custom too,” I interjected while resuming my pointing to Haruka. I turned and spoke to her for reaffirmation. “It’s our custom too.”

“No it’s not,” She stated, smiling.

“Uh…. um….” I was horrible at recovery. “You mean to tell me that everyone I’ve ever hot tubbed with has lied to me? This is an outrage! An embarrassing and hopefully forgettable outrage!”

“Ha, ha… busted!” Garth laughed.

Haruka giggled while covering her mouth with a delicate hand. “It’s OK, I know you try to fool me – I thought it cute. I not bring bathing clothes anyway. Japan Onsen public baths are no clothes, yes, but men and women are separate.  Americans are too obsessed with nudity, but I appreciate your effort. Not many men bold being naked in chilly weather.”

“Oh man, tiki, I think you just got busted and burned! I like this girl.”

I was becoming annoyed. “Garth, why are you ruining my afternoon?”

“Are you serious, dude? Have you not been feeling the earthquakes all morning?” he worriedly retorted.

“Sure… it’s just an earthquake swarm…. hardly enough to slosh water out of the tub.” As if on cue, the ground began to shake enough to rattle the nearby windows. After a few seconds it was over, and yet another contest began between the neighborhood dogs and car alarms as to who could bark the loudest.

“See? See?” Garth stated excitedly. “This is just the beginning. The Mayans were off by a couple of weeks…. the apocalypse is going down now!”

“Wait, what? The apocalypse? Are you kidding? We live next to grand central fault line, man. This is atypical, yes, but normal. And better a bunch of little ones than one great big one. I wouldn’t call it the apocalypse, though.”

“Dude, it’s not just happening here, it’s everywhere!”

“What do you mean, everywhere?”

“Haven’t you been listening to the news either? Everybody is having these earthquake swarms: Us, Japan, Europe, India… it’s the whole fucking planet!” he exclaimed with arms outspread.

The ground shook again, but stronger, changing Haruka’s demeanor to concern. I needed to diffuse the situation quickly or else my possible expectations for the evening would change from soft and warm Japanese hospitality to a panicked flight for survival. Mother nature wasn’t helping either. “Garth, we’ve both been sort of isolated for an hour” – I motioned towards a CD playing at a soothing volume – “but trust me, this is not the end of the world. OK, maybe there’s something geologically weird and unknown happening, but again, it’s not the end of the world. It sounds like the media’s trying to…” The ground trembled again. “Oh, come on!”

“That’s it, I’m outta here!” Garth declared. “Just got done loading what I need with my motorcycle and I’m heading out to this survival place a friend of mine has in the desert. Checking to see if you wanna come.”  

“What, in your rig?”

“Yeah. Or follow.”

“This is crazy, man. I don’t think I’m in any position to make a split second decision like this.”

“That’s why we’ve got to go now, before everybody else realizes what’s really happening and all the outbound freeways get clogged.”

I turned to Haruka. “I don’t know what is going on, but you’re at a loss being in a foreign country. Anything you need or want to do, I’ll do my best to help you out.”

“What about you? What you want to do?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. I thought all these 2012 apocalypse predictions were nonsense, and figured I would handle any local catastrophe as it came.  If the world’s going to end, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing right now. Really.” I touched the length of her arm. “Plus I really want to get the most out of this rental.”

Haruka was silent for a moment. “I… can’t think what to do. This is too sudden, no time for plan. No use for panic. I can only stay here and enjoy time, so I will do that. If earthquake gets worse, then I recommend we dry ourselves off and find safety.”

“I like this girl,” I stated. “I guess we’re staying.”

Garth felt his preparedness was being slighted. “Suit yourselves,” he replied. “You’ve got my cell, so I guess you can always call…. that is, if you’re still able to. Good luck.” He turned and went back out the side gate. Moments later his truck’s motor fired up and then faded away into the distance.

I and Haruka looked at each other in silence for a few seconds. A sudden blaring cartoon melody made us both jolt. “Sorry… my cell,” she said smiling while reaching for it on the small table just outside the tub. She looked at the screen. “It’s my parents.”

I couldn’t understand what she was saying, but I could at least understand the tone of Haruka’s voice given the situation. Her parents were checking to see if she was alright, and she was reassuring them as best as possible. It must have been near midnight in Japan, so obviously Garth was correct when he said this weirdness was happening everywhere. Haruka added confirmation after finishing the call: “They are having many small quakes in Hokkaido too. It woke them up. Their cat Yoshi is behaving crazy.”

“Are you OK? What do you want to do?” I inquired.

“Let’s finish sake and then we go inside and worry,” she answered.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

Forty minutes went by in four. One would think that hot tub plus alcohol plus nudity plus the end of the world equals I should have sprung for the damage insurance on the tub, but it doesn’t.

It equals shared contemplation.

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5 monkey snow

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Another quake began. I instantly noticed that the dogs in my neighborhood had turned silent. As I focused on discerning any barking at all, the tremor became stronger and continued longer than previously. Haruka was astute to the change as well, looking ready to conclude this part of our afternoon. Her expression became somber when the quake still hadn’t ended after a minute, and instead was increasing in magnitude.

“OK, this… has me concerned,” I remarked. This quake was notably different from the others. The sensation wasn’t a rocking motion as before but rather a rapid vibration, like driving on a freeway completely paved with marbles. The water in the tub reacted with the appearance of being disrupted by a rainstorm instead of the typical sloshing back and forth.

“Yep, I think it’s time to at least get dry and put some clothes on,” I said, making an attempt to get out. Another increase in the vibration of the quake caused me to lose my footing and I splashed down back into the tub. “Jesus! It’s getting worse!” Haruka looked at me and moved quickly to embrace me in a bear-hug. She was terrified. I couldn’t remove her from me even if I wanted to. Feeling responsible for her predicament I blurted out an apology. The worsening vibration made it comical.

“II’mm sssorryyyy, II tthinkkk II ssseerrriiiousssslllyyy uuunddderressstttimmmattteddd tthhee apppocccalypppsssse,” I chattered. She whispered something Japanese in my ear, kissed me, and then it hit us – the loudest thunderclap I had ever heard or felt. It was as if the Creator had fashioned a pair of giant hands and clapped them right next to our planet.

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I must have been knocked unconscious – I awoke to blackness. Not total, as I started to discern bright white lights all around me. Some close, others very far away, so there was depth to my darkened perspective which gave the impression of floating in space surrounded by stars. What happened? I wondered as I gazed around. Had I been blinded? 

Remembering I was in a tub of water, I attempted to detect any sensation of feeling but couldn’t. Neither wet nor dry, hot nor cold. My hot tub had been turned into a sensory deprivation tank. Had I been paralyzed as well? Where’s Haruka? What the hell is going on?

At that moment I began to hear a multitude of people screaming. Not all at once, yet the cries quickly rose to a deafening cacophony. I reached to cover my ears with my hands, and to my horror realized I no longer possessed either – or any body to speak of. Was I dead?

Billions were screaming in fear. Another second and I would be joining them….

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To be concluded….

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the living tiki vs 2012 (ROUND 4): Con-etiquette Requires A Thank You

•December 16, 2012 • 15 Comments

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This family’s sibling/daughter was violently gunned down in Connecticut recently:

conn tdy_hill_soto1_121216.TdyDouble

They sure look all broken up about it, don’t they?

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Update at bottom of post.

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Folks, the school shooting in CONnecticut was a fake, staged event. Take a look at the photo above. The family of victim Vicki Soto is wearing green ribbons (and was passing out more to gatherers) in remembrance of her, since green was her favorite color.

What?

What family would think of doing something like this less than a day after her unexpected and violent death?

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My own sister is a teacher of special needs children at an elementary school. She would not hesitate to protect her students with her life. I can tell you right now, if she had died in the same way I certainly wouldn’t look bored like Vicki’s brother above, and I certainly wouldn’t think of some quick gimmick to make others remember her.

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It also looks like one of Vicki’s sisters above didn’t take long to “inherit” Vicki’s scarf: 

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conn article-vicki-soto-2-1215-web

The perfect adorable photo to make you angry.

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Again… the school shooting in Connecticut was a fake, staged event.

The biggest clue for me (and should have been for you) was that over twenty young children were coldly gunned down.

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I have another sister who’s four year old son had wandered off on his own at the zoo for five minutes during a family visit [ I and her husband were actually the ones in charge of watching him at the time, and well... epic fail ].  In just five minutes my sister turned into an emotional train-wreck who would not stop or sleep until reunited with her son.

The only photo of someone at the recent shooting even coming close to displaying that is Vicki’s sister:

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Where are the photos of mothers so filled with anguish they can’t even stand up? Where are the photos of injured children, shirts stained with blood? Where are the most emotionally-impacting photos the media can capture – numerous small draped bodies being wheeled out on stretchers?

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The most memorable photo from the 1995 Oklahoma city bombing was exactly along those lines:

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One year old Baylee Almon dying in the arms of firefighter Chris Field. [But then again, I'm now having doubts about this photo as well... if I was a firefighter, I certainly wouldn't slow down to pose for a photo on my way to paramedics.]

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That’s because there are no photos like that. Nobody died. Nobody was injured. This was a fake, staged event.

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Instead, we get artificially crafted Kodak moments, the same you see after every shooting type event nowadays:

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The emotionally overwhelmed firefighters photo:

CONN ECTICUT-SCHOOL-SHOOTING

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The authority figure and child bonding photo:

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The childless couple… is their child dead? photo:

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The reunited father and daughter photo:

conn 2012-12-14T180424Z_3_CBRE8BD1DL100_RTROPTP_2_USA-SHOOTING-CONNECTICUT

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The reunited family photo:

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The let’s not forget to thank God reunited family photo:

conn 2012-12-14T211650Z_1544320213_GM1E8CF0EJW01_RTRMADP_3_USA-SHOOTING-CONNECTICUT

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The children being led to safety (or maybe the other side of the parking lot) photo:

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The children reacting to the shooting (or maybe wondering why their parents left them alone with a news photographer) photo:

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The desperate, confused grandmother turning to the authority figure photo:

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The odd assortment of sad people milling about photo:

Conn ecticut-school-shooting-13-jpg

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The police ready to kick some mentally-ill shooter ass photo:

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The even though we’re black and white, we’re both human photo:

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The multi-racial remembrance photo:

conn 158393969.jpg.CROP.article568-large

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And the don’t forget to thank God remembrance photo:

conn tumblr_mf3f9mgZjR1qj5rqko1_500

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“Remember” is what they instantly want you to do:

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conn A-LQTqNCEAALiOZ.jpg large

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conn 50ccc8f92408a.preview-300

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Barack Obama

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President Obama even almost cried:

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Almost.

He really, really tried.

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Don’t be sad. The evil ones who crafted this fake event will provide details worthy of remembering:

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Did you know she was also protectively holding the classroom’s mascot labrador puppy at the time?

Did you also know she was super-adorable in every way?

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I heard that this young girl was killed just because the gunman thought she was “too cute to live”:

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The gunman’s ultimate intent? To ruin Christmas for everybody forever.

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Well you failed, mister crazy gunman!

Timmy, there will be Christmas in Whoville… I promise you that!

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The image of teacher Kaitlin Roig above was created by Ed Chiarini, who has already identified people in this event as actors, her being one of them. The boy she’s with in the bottom photo played the fictional role of the brother of Christina Taylor-Green in the Gabrielle Giffords fake shooting:

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Ed also found an actor that I identified playing fake roles in my previous post The Seductive Atlantean (D): A Malfunction in Westworld:

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From the east coast:

conn The-Iceman-Tapes-Conversations-With-a-Killer-Part-1

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And from the west coast:

Child killer David Westerfield:

conn rick-7964271

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And radio show host Rick Roberts:

conn rick-14635147_bg1

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Were you aware that Sandy Hook, Connecticut is also the home of Hunger Games author Suzanne Collins?

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conn hunger-games

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If you were, that’s to detour your consciousness into trying to figure out what the connection means (including Katniss’ resemblance to Vicki). Some people are already lost down that path:

Was There More Than One Shooter At Sandy Hook?

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If you want to ponder something, ponder why an attractive, smart, loving young woman doesn’t have a boyfriend mourning her loss as well.

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conn article-vicki-soto-3-1215-web

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That’s because she’s a fake persona part of a fake event designed in every way to manipulate your emotions, your pocketbook, your ideology, and your vote.

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What’s the “thank you” this con requires?

It’s a thank you from me to all the people on my blogroll, and to all my commentators. Without their insights, without their second looks at everything we’re being force-fed, right now I probably would be trying to figure out some BS such as what mind-control program the gunman was under, and who his slave handler’s are.

Instead, when I initially heard the news I just simply thought: more fake BS.

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conn 382535-another-mass-killing-another-guns-debate

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I concur!

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POST UPDATE: Just so people don’t think I’m some sort of insensitive cad. I mean, I can be – sometimes I am – especially towards people conning me, but I’m not the kind of guy that would laugh if you fell face first into a puddle. OK, maybe I would.

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Dear readers, we now have official confirmation of BS – A Batman connection:

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conn 0001

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That’s a screen shot from the latest film (Just released on DVD… how convenient!)

But wait… what’s that? There’s some words on the map near the walkie-talkies.  Hmmm… I wonder what they say?

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conn 0002

If you can’t read it, it says “bullshit”.

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This is not coincidence. And considering the fact that I’m able to have a timely view of something it would normally take a conspiracy synchro-nerd weeks of video scouring to discover tells me the source of this discovery is also the creator.

In other words, the people who put that in the movie (knowing the Sandy Hook event would happen), now want you to think the event was some Illuminati-Hollywood-CIA-MK Ultra-occult Satanic child sacrifice-something-something (Go out and buy a copy of the movie for better clarity! There might even be more undiscovered clues!) I would also surmise that the article link I provided [Was there another shooter?] was part of all this too – deliberately created with fake comments to draw you further into their mind-snare.

In other words, they want you to waste your time (and money).

The fingerprints of the Greenbergs are all over this event.

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For the rest of us, they are providing us with a sanitized, dramatized, artificial reality. I say sanitized because if you were shown a real event where loved adults and children were abruptly and coldly gunned down in front of other children, those other children would look something like this:

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Children of Iraqi parents shot dead by U.S. soldiers in their car because they didn’t stop at a checkpoint when ordered to. Note face mask on soldier.

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This traumatic event that supposedly happened to the kids in CT wasn’t an earthquake, or fire, or even a gun battle between police and criminals with them in the crossfire. Teachers were shot dead right in front of them.

Children would either be so freaked out, only their parents could calm them down or they would be frozen silent with terror, like that poor boy against the wall.

Does this next photo (or any for that matter) look like the children in CT just went through such an experience?

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conn 4ME2Y.St.8

C’mon dad, where are you? I could totally be watching Dragon Ball Z right now.

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And another update….

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I personally wanted to investigate and know as early as possible whether this was a real or fake event because it provides an untarnished (by emotion) perspective on the follow-up events. Here’s what I’ve learned: 

1) Whomever faked this event has influence/control over the authorities of the state of Connecticut (and anyone else who would have the power to declare this an act of domestic terrorism…. so basically, the United States government.)

2) Whomever faked this event has influence/control over the media enough to where you not only will never know the truth, but the lie will be reinforced and promulgated – such as my local newspaper running an article about one of the Sandy Hook child victims being a former resident here. The ambiguity of her connections to my hometown would be laughable if I didn’t already know the entire article was bullshit being forced upon my mind.

3) Jews are all over this event. If you’ve read my blog or the Celtic Rebel’s, you would know the significance of that.

Paul Simon just happened to be a family friend of the Soto’s, and played “The Sound Of Silence” at her funeral. It’s getting pretty thick, folks.

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conn sandy-hook-funeral-paul-simon-lead

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4) Celebrities are all over this event.

Yeah… they actually produced this video right after the shooting:

Demand a plan to end gun violence 

I would say it’s a good assumption that not only every celebrity you see is compromised, but also everybody else they’ve associated with in every movie or production they’ve been in. In other words, the entire entertainment industry. Working you like a chump.

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5) Whomever faked this event hired some incredibly bad actors. Insultingly bad actors.

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This YouTube clip will show you acting that will piss you off:

The Sandy Hook HOAX!

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This girl just lost her sister? Right.

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Apparently, all the actors chosen for this event were born without tear ducts.

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Here’s another photo of the Iraqi girl for reference/comparison:

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6) Whomever faked this event didn’t forget that there are lots of conspiracy nerds out there.

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Look…. the sign of Baphomet! Vicki was chosen for sacrifice!

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Actually, I’m sure I’ve seen that guy before in one of Ed’s videos. I also found it extremely weird (or maybe not) that Hunger Games author Suzanne Collins….

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….looks incredibly similar to someone I recently profiled, Annette O’Toole:

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7) Do not ask why.

With every law-changing conspiratorial event nowadays, the worst question to ask is why. Because then with any given answer to why, it will cause you to personally decide if you care or not.

The most obvious response to “why” is gun control. I just heard some Jewish politicians talk to a Jewish radio show host about formulating a plan to ban some guns. Sounds like getting rid of guns is what they’re up to, doesn’t it?

There have been record gun sales in the U.S. since the shooting.

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If you absolutely need an answer to “why”, I would say that they are attacking the minds of children. All children.

Otherwise, just keep knowing they are working you like a chump – Expose the hell out of them and do not tolerate their bullshit anymore. Maybe even be a little insensitive….

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Hey…. is it me, or does anyone else suspect that “Vicki” was chosen not only because she’s adorable, but also has a potentially huge rack?

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conn article-vicki-soto-4-1215-web

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You might not think it, but you’re attention is being subtly directed to them.

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Conn ecticut+Shootings

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(OK, maybe it’s just me.)

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Welcome to People magazine reality. Tales of individual heroism and sacrifice at Sandy Hook page 6. On page 15, an update on Gabrielle Giffords… Gabby’s adopted the Sandy Hook labrador puppy!

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ONGOWA!

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conn aaaa

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