Rockpickers Cattle Dog, Colleen
It is darkest at the new moon. Now there is just a sliver of light. We are assaulted on all sides by possible disasters - collapse, tyranny, famine, disease, earth changes, war. Or, are we carriers of an apocalypse meme transmitted like a virus through generations? Sometimes it is hard to tell. We need to take stock of ourselves. We need to come to terms with our experience. We draw our attention away from the seductive outside matrix and turn within to the intense present, attempting to make some sense of it, assimilate it, perhaps heal it.
To our good fortune, we have at this campfire one who wields words as deftly as he does stone. A master craftsman, he builds each poem word by word like a wall with each stone fitting perfectly to another. Rockpicker generously shares his cultivated perceptions with us along the path we walk. I have asked him to collect his most recent poems, that they may be read as a collection.
I figure that there are plenty of subjects covered here to renew the conversation once again.
freeacre
The following is all Rockpicker ....
After An Ice Storm On The Allegheny Plateau
Beyond the sumac tangle, where a thinning father saws,
a grandmother shagbark hickory sags with loss.
Split limbs scrape like clay shards tied in wind. Wind
the sawyer knows and ice conspire some bad years
to open crowns and let a good son in. He revs
his Stihl. Green pulp sprays from kerfs and sticks
to boots, consecrating snow like scattered ash.
You stand a distance off and dream the taut trunk limber.
Remember a girl, smart, green as whip? You loved her.
This ancient snag, lithe in youth, was left by men
long dead for shade. You like to think she chose her ground,
bolted free of gloom so deep a bright moon hurt, and ran,
breaching walls to reach this mid-field stance. You're
confused. The figure you remember kept running.
Some bad years snap the stoutest dreams like twigs.
Cures fail. Stunned villagers inter a shining son.
A wife says 'leave.' Once each life thin fathers
flesh-out plans to restack stones, slash brush
and honor the old delineations. Buck up the knotted way
life doesn't go. Toss rounds to boys who still trust dreams
and cart your grief like cordwood home in snow.
Stopping For Pelicans On A Summer Evening
Driving the Road to the Buffalo home,
Oldensoul, over my shoulder, spots
a helix of featherworks bursting
the cloudless blue near where
roads and waters merge. We pull off.
Low over yellow grass, black wings
work the yellow grass for what
it's worth, unaware, or perhaps,
unimpressed, by the grace overhead.
Flashes of winged bodies appear
out of nowhere unencumbered in air.
They flare white, a hundred points
of light, a flock of blossoms,
each banked turn when sun hits right.
Up and up they climb, uninstructed,
free, repeating explosions of ecstasy.
It takes our breath. They bloom,
fade and bloom again, delirious
anarchy on zazen wind.
This whirling is a public mirth, a stirring
of rapture, loosed of earth. And isn't
this coming together of a green day
with affirming moon and the scent
of new-mown hay a way to sing
our love song back to a black-winged world?
Waiting For The Signal
These pages that bring us together
are the fire in the cave above the stream,
no dream we move in and out of, faceless,
expendable, waiting for a burst of wings
to spill our pooled bones like coins
over the chilled and silent ground
we fell in love with so long ago,
singing the green hills home
under that shovel-shouldered sun.
Fatigue works grim the stone of souls.
No talk is needed to believe the bleeding
will be ours all too soon. Needled dust,
that settled itself in honest lungs, cut
with each rasp, yet the bleeding
wasn't stemmed. Quick, black tongues
flicked from windows, floors below dustified
slabs, while the Street slumped with peanuts
and a beer, cheering each new diversion.
In our rush of voices a stream curses
the murmur of pines. In our names,
what we begged for never to be done,
is done with no shame. And the day
drags its blindered self to toil. Night trades
whiskey pete for oil, while down slope,
death-drummer birds with blazing eyes
ascend the holy crags to raze dissent
before we waking innocent arise.
NDAA, 2012
I'm waiting empty in a cold house,
with shamrocks, the dog and favored books,
listening for the old tread of new boots
gunning to kick- in this loose-hinged heart.
The grasping hands of those with much
to lose, I imagine, close on me.
They drag me, incendiary,
into their unmooned night.
Half a shot of Tullamore on the table
is how my neighbors find me gone.
No bloated stench. No skeletal sneer.
Only a storm door banging mad in wind.
A Question For The Commander-in-Chief
When a bunker buster
falls in the desert
and no one
shows you photos
of the shadows
of little bodies
etched
on concrete walls,
are the screams
of insane mothers
drowned out
by the drone
of empire?
-for FP
White Lies Over The Passamari
Since oxygen and hydrogen combine
when kerosene is incompletely burned
at thirty thousand feet in crystal air
to form a gaseous water we can't see,
but know it's there because it changes
state, cooling in the rarefied minus seventy degree
Montana sky to first, (briefly,) liquid, and then to ice,
fine particles, yes, but solid enough
to refract a wan sun. " Contrail,"
we say, looking up over garden walls,
over the ridgelines of neighboring houses.
We follow the silver bird, and its vapor,
across the sky, the two small enough
to hide behind raised fists
because ice reflecting sunlight
takes on heat and changes back
to states we only dream. So what gives
with these spreading trails in tick-tack- toe?
Is it rocket science I'm not allowed to know?
White skies replace our deep blue days.
Shouldn't we expect a little say?
Sky Collapses On The Passamari
Winter sky drapes the land, like a canopy
dropped by unseen hands upon a cage.
Farm ground blurs between houses
at an imprecise place, over the creek,
beyond my neighbors' spruce. Past
what we can see spreads
the topography of an uncertain age.
Fence posts pitch and lose themselves
in fog, like stick men heading off
to evening chores, or the dutiful poor
marched off to kill the poor in forgettable wars.
What I took for granted and thought I knew
when sunbeams slanted through
transparent pain, seems now
untenable and untrue. Still, rockslides
and dying forests loom, like deficits
we must assume in this obscuring air.
The looted vault gapes, a victim's mouth.
Herefords steaming under willows
birth their calves. The little town rubs
its knees beside a flame and tunes
its set for a prompted reassurance.
I kick the empty streets in muffled gloom.
I bounce solid hopeful notes off walls
of unsold homes. Kept birds balance
in dim rooms, each night, a new deception.
With sky this low, could it be more clear?
What we need to know we musn't hate or fear.
On the Passamari, the dog star fluxes, red
to green, whether occluded or seen.
Fukushima, Passamari, Spring
Bow-legged two-legged, leaning on his hoe
peers for garlic, late, beneath the plum.
Shirt cuffs splay like stalling wings in wind.
He veers a stretch of sky between limbs
and bed, tallying spears as if a golden
gauging hares. Planes his friends insist
don't spray poison for many good reasons
and returning geese persist against
the pelt of fronts. A neighbor's tom
deserves his adulation. Clouds decay
to cumulus and haze when no fields burn.
A fat mouse dies without a kick in yellow grass.
Orach cotyledons pool in paths like blood.
Early spinach vernal under hog fence hoops
and plastic from the dump needs safe water
from the county's deepest well. Still, rain
threatens, at a hundred counts per minute,
not him so much but kids who play next door.
When did the world's backup generators seize?
The missing witness, shoeless on the tape,
muttering, stumbled- on by mistake
in a landfill heap. And this newest war,
when were there debates? He leans on stone
to sort intrusive roots from wanted stock.
One wind whips the town's flags all directions.
Doves weight air a gray he shoulders
like a bar. Admitting defeat so late and far
from sanctuary waves, snow geese argue
security measures all the way to straw. Truth
is north and hurts worse faced head on.
Land a million peasants hoed subsides
while dying aspens turn silver he can't save
and nations crash in gardens like the sea.
Aerosol merges white in ionized sky
when sun unwinds in tongues that peel his ears.
Teetering worlds lose bearings like bickering geese.
He takes the dog whose eyes yearn for a walk.
She shows him when you turn you're halfway home.
Cowdog Passing
I came down in the morning
to find her, eyes open, stiff,
and let her lay in her blankets
against the sofa until mid-day.
When late- winter sun transcribed
the bare limbs
of the old Chinese elm
into inscrutable lines
on softening ground,
I laid her facing east
into her new day, covered her
with earth in the raspberries
and drove away.
The short trip to the dump
never seemed so long,
the muddy truck seat so empty,
as it did that day.
Magnetic Ribbons and the Yellowcake of Faith
When we wake puking shame
at last, and know the dream
for sham, embraced en masse...
When bells that rang victorious
hang mute, their tarnished claims
ignored in disrepute, and
bitter sons, having been all they
could be, can't wish back innocence
or the leg below the knee...
(This brash regime's trimmed reason
from its ranks, its black guard
in the street, protecting flanks.)
...then will we heed the schemers'
gloating leer? "There's no future,
for dissidents, here."
Row on row, with hand
in trembling hand, it's come to this:
We dreamers need to stand.
Beyond the sumac tangle, where a thinning father saws,
a grandmother shagbark hickory sags with loss.
Split limbs scrape like clay shards tied in wind. Wind
the sawyer knows and ice conspire some bad years
to open crowns and let a good son in. He revs
his Stihl. Green pulp sprays from kerfs and sticks
to boots, consecrating snow like scattered ash.
You stand a distance off and dream the taut trunk limber.
Remember a girl, smart, green as whip? You loved her.
This ancient snag, lithe in youth, was left by men
long dead for shade. You like to think she chose her ground,
bolted free of gloom so deep a bright moon hurt, and ran,
breaching walls to reach this mid-field stance. You're
confused. The figure you remember kept running.
Some bad years snap the stoutest dreams like twigs.
Cures fail. Stunned villagers inter a shining son.
A wife says 'leave.' Once each life thin fathers
flesh-out plans to restack stones, slash brush
and honor the old delineations. Buck up the knotted way
life doesn't go. Toss rounds to boys who still trust dreams
and cart your grief like cordwood home in snow.
Stopping For Pelicans On A Summer Evening
Driving the Road to the Buffalo home,
Oldensoul, over my shoulder, spots
a helix of featherworks bursting
the cloudless blue near where
roads and waters merge. We pull off.
Low over yellow grass, black wings
work the yellow grass for what
it's worth, unaware, or perhaps,
unimpressed, by the grace overhead.
Flashes of winged bodies appear
out of nowhere unencumbered in air.
They flare white, a hundred points
of light, a flock of blossoms,
each banked turn when sun hits right.
Up and up they climb, uninstructed,
free, repeating explosions of ecstasy.
It takes our breath. They bloom,
fade and bloom again, delirious
anarchy on zazen wind.
This whirling is a public mirth, a stirring
of rapture, loosed of earth. And isn't
this coming together of a green day
with affirming moon and the scent
of new-mown hay a way to sing
our love song back to a black-winged world?
Waiting For The Signal
These pages that bring us together
are the fire in the cave above the stream,
no dream we move in and out of, faceless,
expendable, waiting for a burst of wings
to spill our pooled bones like coins
over the chilled and silent ground
we fell in love with so long ago,
singing the green hills home
under that shovel-shouldered sun.
Fatigue works grim the stone of souls.
No talk is needed to believe the bleeding
will be ours all too soon. Needled dust,
that settled itself in honest lungs, cut
with each rasp, yet the bleeding
wasn't stemmed. Quick, black tongues
flicked from windows, floors below dustified
slabs, while the Street slumped with peanuts
and a beer, cheering each new diversion.
In our rush of voices a stream curses
the murmur of pines. In our names,
what we begged for never to be done,
is done with no shame. And the day
drags its blindered self to toil. Night trades
whiskey pete for oil, while down slope,
death-drummer birds with blazing eyes
ascend the holy crags to raze dissent
before we waking innocent arise.
NDAA, 2012
I'm waiting empty in a cold house,
with shamrocks, the dog and favored books,
listening for the old tread of new boots
gunning to kick- in this loose-hinged heart.
The grasping hands of those with much
to lose, I imagine, close on me.
They drag me, incendiary,
into their unmooned night.
Half a shot of Tullamore on the table
is how my neighbors find me gone.
No bloated stench. No skeletal sneer.
Only a storm door banging mad in wind.
A Question For The Commander-in-Chief
When a bunker buster
falls in the desert
and no one
shows you photos
of the shadows
of little bodies
etched
on concrete walls,
are the screams
of insane mothers
drowned out
by the drone
of empire?
-for FP
White Lies Over The Passamari
Since oxygen and hydrogen combine
when kerosene is incompletely burned
at thirty thousand feet in crystal air
to form a gaseous water we can't see,
but know it's there because it changes
state, cooling in the rarefied minus seventy degree
Montana sky to first, (briefly,) liquid, and then to ice,
fine particles, yes, but solid enough
to refract a wan sun. " Contrail,"
we say, looking up over garden walls,
over the ridgelines of neighboring houses.
We follow the silver bird, and its vapor,
across the sky, the two small enough
to hide behind raised fists
because ice reflecting sunlight
takes on heat and changes back
to states we only dream. So what gives
with these spreading trails in tick-tack- toe?
Is it rocket science I'm not allowed to know?
White skies replace our deep blue days.
Shouldn't we expect a little say?
Sky Collapses On The Passamari
Winter sky drapes the land, like a canopy
dropped by unseen hands upon a cage.
Farm ground blurs between houses
at an imprecise place, over the creek,
beyond my neighbors' spruce. Past
what we can see spreads
the topography of an uncertain age.
Fence posts pitch and lose themselves
in fog, like stick men heading off
to evening chores, or the dutiful poor
marched off to kill the poor in forgettable wars.
What I took for granted and thought I knew
when sunbeams slanted through
transparent pain, seems now
untenable and untrue. Still, rockslides
and dying forests loom, like deficits
we must assume in this obscuring air.
The looted vault gapes, a victim's mouth.
Herefords steaming under willows
birth their calves. The little town rubs
its knees beside a flame and tunes
its set for a prompted reassurance.
I kick the empty streets in muffled gloom.
I bounce solid hopeful notes off walls
of unsold homes. Kept birds balance
in dim rooms, each night, a new deception.
With sky this low, could it be more clear?
What we need to know we musn't hate or fear.
On the Passamari, the dog star fluxes, red
to green, whether occluded or seen.
Fukushima, Passamari, Spring
Bow-legged two-legged, leaning on his hoe
peers for garlic, late, beneath the plum.
Shirt cuffs splay like stalling wings in wind.
He veers a stretch of sky between limbs
and bed, tallying spears as if a golden
gauging hares. Planes his friends insist
don't spray poison for many good reasons
and returning geese persist against
the pelt of fronts. A neighbor's tom
deserves his adulation. Clouds decay
to cumulus and haze when no fields burn.
A fat mouse dies without a kick in yellow grass.
Orach cotyledons pool in paths like blood.
Early spinach vernal under hog fence hoops
and plastic from the dump needs safe water
from the county's deepest well. Still, rain
threatens, at a hundred counts per minute,
not him so much but kids who play next door.
When did the world's backup generators seize?
The missing witness, shoeless on the tape,
muttering, stumbled- on by mistake
in a landfill heap. And this newest war,
when were there debates? He leans on stone
to sort intrusive roots from wanted stock.
One wind whips the town's flags all directions.
Doves weight air a gray he shoulders
like a bar. Admitting defeat so late and far
from sanctuary waves, snow geese argue
security measures all the way to straw. Truth
is north and hurts worse faced head on.
Land a million peasants hoed subsides
while dying aspens turn silver he can't save
and nations crash in gardens like the sea.
Aerosol merges white in ionized sky
when sun unwinds in tongues that peel his ears.
Teetering worlds lose bearings like bickering geese.
He takes the dog whose eyes yearn for a walk.
She shows him when you turn you're halfway home.
Cowdog Passing
I came down in the morning
to find her, eyes open, stiff,
and let her lay in her blankets
against the sofa until mid-day.
When late- winter sun transcribed
the bare limbs
of the old Chinese elm
into inscrutable lines
on softening ground,
I laid her facing east
into her new day, covered her
with earth in the raspberries
and drove away.
The short trip to the dump
never seemed so long,
the muddy truck seat so empty,
as it did that day.
Magnetic Ribbons and the Yellowcake of Faith
When we wake puking shame
at last, and know the dream
for sham, embraced en masse...
When bells that rang victorious
hang mute, their tarnished claims
ignored in disrepute, and
bitter sons, having been all they
could be, can't wish back innocence
or the leg below the knee...
(This brash regime's trimmed reason
from its ranks, its black guard
in the street, protecting flanks.)
...then will we heed the schemers'
gloating leer? "There's no future,
for dissidents, here."
Row on row, with hand
in trembling hand, it's come to this:
We dreamers need to stand.
90 comments:
RIP cowdog. other than that, i'm speachless as i bow in awe... p
From the "Just When You Think It Couldn't Get Any Worse" Dept., this comes in:
http://disinfo.com/2013/04/robotic-bees-to-pollinate-monsanto-crops/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+disinfo%2FoMPh+%28Disinformation%29
So, first they destroy the bees, then they try to take over the pollination with robot bees. There really must be a special place in hell for these Monsanto miscreants.
...(sound of crickets)...
Has everyone gone to the bunkers? lol
Thanks for sharing. Love to you all.
Z
Since you brought it up, yes, I've been hearing the sound of crickets for weeks now, and wondering, is it me, or is it everywhere and are more people hearing this constant high-pitched, then left ear drone, then gone, then back, tones they beam your head in hearing tests where you raise your hand to indicate
perception, but this is no consensual examination in which equipment pinpoints accelerating disability, because I'm sitting in my own home, (a home I will only pay on, but never own), with a modest-sized monitor before me, (ancient by my children's standards), wondering if maybe it's emanating from it? Ya know?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDcovdN5I7o
Here's part of it.
I have to look into this guy, Dollard. He seems really genuine to me. I understand that he was once a respected scientist, but when he began veering from the norm, he ended up sleeping in his car or something like that, due to retaliation. The whole idea of space having more matter in it than "matter" does, just blows me away. Electrically conductive "space," would seem to necessitate a new word for "space."
So, maybe some are not as clueless as they seem. HAARP may be experimenting with these new principals of electronic creation/destruction.
All this stuff is jumping off and I feel like Dorothy waking up somewhere that isn't Kansas anymore.
We have awakened to snow this morning. Yuk.
Yoichi Shimatsu is an American of Japanese descent, trained as a nuclear engineer, a journalist living in the Orient and a regular on the Rense radio program.
http://rense.com/general95/anotherk.html
Star of the County Down
From Banbridge Town in the County Down
One morning last July,
From a boreen green came a sweet colleen
And she smiled as she passed me by.
She looked so sweet from her two bare feet
To the sheen of her nut brown hair
Such a coaxing elf, sure I shook myself
For to see I was really there.
[Chorus:]
From Bantry Bay into Derry Quay
From Galway to Dublin Town
No maid I've seen like the fair colleen
That I met in the County Down...
Really nice work Rockpicker.
Scrap
WOW, RP
I really like your poetry.
Thanks.
-Randy
Oh, Man... the Boston Marathon. Not another "training exercise" where bombs were to go off at the finish line and at the JFK Library. Official announcement tweets 2 hrs. before the blasts. Sandy Hook families right there to add to the shameless melodrama. Tom Brokaw comes on and tells us that we are all going to have to get used to the idea that we need much more protection from Homeland Security measures from now on. Of course.
Yup FA, DI is reporting a facebook page dedicated to the victims was set up on Saturday, soon as it was reported it disappeared along with the links to it, there's a photo of it in todays headlines there http://www.davidicke.com/headlines
The "explosion" looked more like pyrotechnics than explosives to my eyes.
People seem aware of the scam already, is this a false flag too far? Gd.
Tom Browkaw is such a fucking tool.
You wonder if they're (you know -them, they) going to start pulling-off several smaller false flag ops around the country instead of one large one to get the sheeple into believing that we need DHS and the Pentagon to "police" EVERYTHING in Murika. Oblahblah wasted no time in getting his ass on the TeeVee to spew the same "evildoers are gonna get it" mantra.
Crap.
Meanwhile, it's snowing here in Mormon HQ, which of course, sucks. Ok, I need some coffee.
-Randy
Thanks everyone for your kind words.
Here is a reasonable assessment of the Boston situation, as far as I can tell. The mainstream narrative appears to be lacking in detail, as usual.
http://www.naturalnews.com/039928_Boston_marathon_bombings_official_story.html
Forgot... Wifeepoo was watching some of the reports on the Boston bombing last night and on one channel Ann Currey was talking with some dude via an internet connection who was supposedly a runner who just finished the race a minute or two before the first explosion. She asked him some really stupid leading questions and this guy talked as if if he was reading from a movie script. Not droning on, but like a good actor would do when auditioning for a disaster movie. He was very melodramatic when describing what he supposedly saw and felt. Wifeepoo had the remote so I couldn't turn it off, so I did a "Gotta pee, be right back" thing and left the room. Man, I can't believe people actually watch that garbage and think they're being informed.
Talk about "doomed." That we be, folks.
-Randy
Randy; See what wifeepoo has to say about this...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=oOVICOudMVI
the only thing worse than a crazed individual or group is a crazed individual or group already in a high power position while coveting even more of the same and of a mind to go to any length to have it... p
Well, here we go again. All the economic sites have extensive articles concerning the smack down of precious metal prices. Interestingly, this is being accompanied by a huge surge in buying of the physical metals all over the world. Dealers are reporting that they are completely out of gold and silver is scarce. The spread between purchase and selling price has gone way up.
According to many sites, the smack down was the result of selling off of a huge amount of paper gold, somewhere in the area of $20 billion of it, the equivalent of 500 tonnes or so. That has to be pure unadulterated manipulation.
So far today, the stock market continues down and precious metals is going back up. This is a bad sign for the future of the dollar. Maybe the ptb are actually getting desperate. If so, I wonder what they will pull up next to fuck with us.
Looks like this is going to be a really bad year. sigh
Paul Craig Roberts had some info and analysis on the Fed manipulating gold and silver prices. He says it'll backfire and the dollar will take a major hit.
On Ebay, the price of silver is still about $35 buck/oz. So, no bargains there.
And... it's looking like Boston might be an apitizer for TPTB's NWO plans. They're ratching things up a bit with with a few other false flags around the country. Major "Doomage" might be coming up fast.
I best stock-up on brew tonight. I want to have a nice buzz on when TSHTF.
-Randy
No, maybe you don't. Check this out, and read all the way to the end.
http://govtslaves.info/seattle-has-been-taken-over-by-the-department-of-homeland-security/
Seems the PTB have been caught with their pants down in Boston, and the cat is out of the bag, lets see how they wriggle out of this one! Gd.
http://www.prisonplanet.com/proof-boston-marathon-bombing-is-false-flag-cover-up.html
http://www.infowars.com/breaking-police-confirm-infowars-photos-of-boston-suspects/
I'm with you, GD. I know a lot of you don't give Steve Quayle, Jeff Rense and Alex Jones much credence, but you need to check this out, from Mike Adams, the food ranger, and Alex Jones work. These are photos taken by citizen journalists, and these are pics the resistance needs to see and spread viral. This false flag ain't gonna fly...
http://www.naturalnews.com/039980_The_Craft_photos_communications_van.html
By God, I say we need background checks on anyone attempting to purchase pressure cookers. What the hell is wrong with these legislators, anyway? Universal registration on all pressure cookers, NOW! That'll keep us safe!
"The government is the terrorists."
-Col. Potter
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yWUB4MCLsHg&list=FLHE92x768p8h-fMrqhsnE1Q
Tuning into the news this morning wondering if any light will be shed on all the special ops mercenaries clearly taking part in the "drill", but instead Fox et al seem to be saying... look over there in Cambridge, a squirrel! Gd.
how much is that blue tick mister,
with the spots all down his back?
he really ain't worth nothin' boy
nobody wants a pup like that.
you see that leg all crippled up?
he's been that way since he was born.
and as the boy stood watchin,
the puppy stumbled to the floor.
well, i aim to take him home with me
and i aim to pay full price.
i made two-fifty mowin' grass
its yours, if that's alright.
and 'bout the rest i owe ya,
how's fifty cents a week?
you sure that's what you want boy
i was gonna put that pup to sleep
well, the little boy choked back the tears
as he tugged up on his pants
to show the man the brace he wears
to help him when he stands.
i'm namin' him deeOgee
and as he shook hands with the man,
he said, you don't have to worry mister,
he's got someone who understands.
the emptyness on the old man's face
looked like a dog without a home
he was overcome with silence
feelin' naked as a bone
he just fumbled thru the madness
that doubled as his desk,
primed a pencil with his tongue,
hooked his glasses on his head
he said, i - i - i need to make this paper out
so let me ask ya son
where'd you get that name, deeOgee
and could you spell it for me once?
it really don't mean nothin' special sir
it just sorta came to me
and i ain't to good at spellin'
but, it... might... be.... D - O - G
well, we've all been well past lonely
bummed out down and blue
where life feels like an emptyness
crashing in on you.
the devil's won the battle,
no one gives a damn
but you don't have to worry mister
there's always one who understands... p
Very cool, P. Good lessons therein for all of us to keep in mind as we grasp to hold on in the coming whirlwind.
just saw daddy on tv speak for a growing number of real justice seeking 'dissidents'... he was framed. i don't know by who and i don't know how they did it. but he was framed. being cowards, they killed him. there are cops out there that will do that. (and watching the screen right now looks like its toast for son #2)
on another side of the fence is a guy claiming to be an uncle saying some disturbing stuff bout his nephews and islam.
the propaganda machine now cranking out the claim.... "posted on social media... i have't got a single american friend, i don't understand them" quite contrary to what his brother's classmates are sayin bout him.
what daddy didn't say was that the swat that took his boy out are runnin on conditioning specially designed to play to imprints, just like his boy. lotta differentiation in forms but forms of a core dynamics are runnin the shows on a deeper layer of the cake. we call it evil. cuz it is.
there's a twisted consciousness in the gap thats smart enuf to identify various imprints of what we call operatives and play to them to carry out their agenda in sophisticated and highly.... ahem, 'aggressive ways'. we call that specialization. what it is is imprints playin to imprints. or inclinations playin on inclinations.
among other things, we call those inclinations... desire, which is just one of the reasons desire got a bad rep. cuz... and i don't know bout you but, sometimes i find myself (totally contrary to the 'good boy' in me,i'd like to think) desirin/wishin/hoping for some pretty nasty chit to come down which, along with it would take out some supposedly innocent by-standers. we call that collateral damage... p
thx rp. back long time ago me and the lady at the time had a pup she named deeohgee. took him to the vet for his shots and, signing us in, the nurse asked how to spell it. the 'duh' look on her face etched in me mind. became one of those precious moments ya just never forget. several years later i got into writing songs and wanted to write one that told that story. one day i ran up on this thing in one of those 'chicken soup' books about the kid, the pup, the pet store owner, and so on. it was the perfect frame to hang the story on. so i borrowed it and personalized it. kinda like the boss did w/steinbeck's tom joad
in similar fashion, i'd read willie's autobio and he tells a story 'bout a guy writin a mag-rag piece on him. the guy was tagging along on the tour and one night he asks the question every writer doin a piece like that is sooner or later bound to ask.... to what do you owe your success? they were back stage before a show at the time. willie pulls the curtain back and sez... see all those people out there? most of em ain't with their first love. thats why they play the jukebox. kinda struck me in similar fashion as the scene with the nurse had. from that came this....
someone asked willie nelson to whom he owed a debt
for all of his accomplishments, for all of his success
they were standin in the darkness backstage before a show
the man was writin on a piece 'bout willie's life, ya know
ole willie he jes rolled his eyes, he'd heard this one before
a hundred times from a hundred guys he'd always shown the door
ahh, but this time somethin happened as a tear slid down his cheek
ole willie pulled the curtain back and jestured for a peek
he said, ya tell me that ya wanna know the reason why they came?
ain't one out of a hundred who ain't loved and lost the game,
went all in with damn good reason, got their heart broke, took some knocks
and that, my friend's the reason why they play that ole juke box
later in some ole honky tonk the man sat with his thoughts
starin at the loneliness, floatin on the rocks
he didn't seem to notice that his cheek was wet and hot
as he got up from his bar stool, dropped a quarter in the slot
and he played...
the game is never over, the yearnin's never done.
and everytime you take a chance the reason's not the one
cuz every broken heart has got a reason with a name
and she ain't sleepin next to you, that's why love's to blame.
broken up he sat back down and starred into his gin
suddenly, there was willie's face starin back at him
and he said...
so ya tell me that you wanna know the reason why i'm hot
that tear you shed ain't from yer head, that's why you played the box
and now you know the reason why they seem to know my name
its a broken heart that they feel cuz they played and lost the game
ya, its a broken heart that they feel cuz i played and lost the game
P; Ya know Paul Zarzyski? He's been writing some songs. I took classes with him in the 70's.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMwx5OeCNWo
Great stuff P, like your style, tried to put some chords to it, sounded like Johnny Cash for a while, then I lost it and it didn't quite come back, need to work on dum chuck. I once knew a dog named Deefer ;) Gd.
rp... long time ago my guitar teacher once told me there are 2 kinds of harmony singers... the naturals and everybody else. and if you're aware of it and listen for it, you can always tell the naturals when you hear em. i'm bettin zarzyski learned as much from you as you did from him. cuz yer a natural. its in yer bones. i read yer stuff and its clear... you've been to places with the pen i'm still tryin to find.
gd... never was happy with the melody i had for willie and, actually, i don't play much anymore. lost too much dexterity swingin hammers and slingin saws around. but while i was writing it out yesterday that old melody was gone and with a new beat in its place runnin in me head... a sorta combo of conway twitty's tight fittin jeans and tom paxton's last thing on my mind. might dust off the ole strings and see what i can do with it.
amyway, how bout takin a page from zarzyski's LSD to tell the deefer story...
i once had a dog named deefer
more than a friend to this ole geazer
its been said she was a golden retreiver
with a play ground sort of demeanor
for a frisbee she was some kinda leaper
til the day we got into some reefer
now we've both turned into a sleeper
yea, that weed? it was totally keefer!!!
Aretes and mires, mires and aretes...
Brasscheck has been playing excerpts from "A Noble Lie", a documentary about the Oklahoma City bombing. It looks like a must-see, especially in light of recent developments.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=roZi0H2Gsxg
Great stuff, Guys.
Clif High's got a new wujo audio message that you might want to listen to regarding the forecast of the global coastal event precursors seeming to manifest now on his halfpasthuman site. All hell breaking loose all over.
The dying paralyzed veteran's message to Bush, Cheney, and Rumsfeld on just how evil they are and how they deserve to be prosecuted for war crimes deserves a read, too, if you haven't seen it already. It's on survival acre's blogsite. Very sad and compelling.
Has there ever been a "terrorist" attack here where the perp wasn't under the influence of the FBI? I mean from Kennedy on. What a pant load this shit is.
Duck and cover.
http://watchmanscry.com/article_dead_men.html
Good observations.
Anonymous is calling for a blackout of websites to protest the CRISPA ruling recently passes by the House. It basically give one zero legal recourse against mining your e-mail and computer for personal info. on you. I don't know if we should demonstrate solidarity with Anonymous by darkening our site, or stay open and express our dissatisfaction with the government going crazy. What do you think?
http://rt.com/usa/anonymous-internet-blackout-against-cispa-164/
I wish I had a dog poking me in the ribs, saying it's time to feed her...
Clif says all indications are, it's on...
Government will go to ground.
I say we stay up, hold hands, and ride the big wave in...
These pages that bring us together are the fire in the cave above the stream, a metaphorical safe place for partisans and freedom fighters to rest between watches, chow down on the latest news and touch, through language, the foreign parts of our souls.
Billy's still working things out...
http://www.youtube.com/user/Mr2Tuff2
Surprised the 2nd suspect was alive after all that, the official video had no sound, couple of stun grenades was all, the other video sounded like 20-30 assault rifles emptied a mag into the boat, somehow I don't think they wanted to capture the squirrel alive!
FA: I vote to keep the campfire burning, it's a friendly light from which to view all the doom & darkness. Besides I'm not convinced anything "anonymous" ever did was useful to us, so I'm not so sure I'd want to show solidarity.
rp: you could borrow my eldest Springer, 12yo almost blind, completely deaf, but she sure knows who to poke in the ribs. Surprisingly, with all her ailments, she can still outdoo the younger dogs in the pack and catch a fresh rabbit for dinner, especially when Mrs.Gd leaves it too close to the counter edge after skinning it, as she did this past Sunday ;)
I still listen to Cliffs stuff, not bought a report for yrs, it's a bit like a digital Nostradamus to me, I'll be gald when the "GCE" window is passed, it's been dragging on like a splinter in my mind for what seems like forever. Gd.
Gotta love James Corbett's integrity and tenacity...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=fySYxvV4rZA
i'm up 4 up 2... p
SATS
I guess you guys have all seen this one by now
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&v=q2Ed5chLGqM&NR=1
For real or pantomime, it is so hard to say? Was he the Craft worker in the baseball cap? Well it sure looks like a similar hat to me but what are the police doing shooting up their own side? Maybe baseball cap and his colleague had fulfilled their usefulness, who knows. Also, what was so heavy in those Kraft worker back packs? Maybe they were stuffed with nail filled pressure cookers, kinda looks heavy enough to me.
In this believe nothing society the truth is even more elusive than when it is buried. Maybe uncertainty and not knowing who to trust is the object of the game.
And now for something completely the same: - “This is what a police state looks like”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=py4X0UCr-MM
I have no idea what these guys were wanted for but this sure looks like overwhelming force to me.
Since dogs have entered the general conversation, the one heard barking in this clip makes it through to the end of the video, at least.
You know, with the video of the guy who supposedly lost his daughter at Sandy Hook, smoke'in and joke'in right before he was to start crying on CNN to the victims of this bombing (white smoke =pyrotechnics)... I don't believe anything anymore. No-thing.
Sandy Hook was to destroy the 2nd and Boston was to demonstrate Marshall Law. Period.
Wifeepoo's best friend, who's from the Boston area, is coming for a visit this weekend and I know when we're out and about, eveyone's going to be talking about how great the lockdown was, how wonderful that the Stazi were able to kill and capture the "evildoers" and how awesome our Dear Leader is in keeping us all so snuggly safe -BARF!
Of course, I'll be staring-off into the distance with a "say nothing... say nothing..." montra going through my head the entire time.
We're a big-ass asteroid when you need one?
-Randy
http://ecace83fe75db57d3edd-9cb43a5ce2db258f19c5d6dc62953f52.r74.cf2.rackcdn.com/2013/105/120/black-backpack_original.jpg
Sats; Did a google search for exploded backpack Boston, came right up. Notice this backpack is all black. If you notice the backpacks carried by the Craft security guys, (the REAL suspects), were all black, and large. The pack little brother carried was two-toned and small.
Also, the packs carried by security had a small white square on the back. Scrutinize this photo. See the small white square under the tip of the stuffing? Bingo!!
Also, I have seen security camera video tape shot from above the finish line from a stationary camera, which helps to provide a coherent view of the confusion in the street after the explosions. Guess who fails to react normally to the events unfolding, offers no assistance to injured people, but stands around watching? That's right, the Craft guys.
Check it out.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=yy-hWcOWL60
And there's more...
http://www.thiscantbehappening.net/print/1696
This, from Brasscheck...
http://www.brasschecktv.com/videos/government-terror/police-story-violates-combat-reality.html
Joel Skousen is a guest expert regular on Jeff Rense's radio show.
Update from This Can't Be Happening...
http://www.thiscantbehappening.net/node/1708
SATS
Freeacre wrote “I don't know if we should demonstrate solidarity with Anonymous by darkening our site, or stay open and express our dissatisfaction with the government going crazy. What do you think?”
Like Gd I would be sorry to see it go but here is another thing to consider:
http://www.thiscantbehappening.net/manningpretrial
This goes about the USG wanting Bradley Manning's ass. Since he is gay, I don't know if this is literally or not. I know that he upset them and they are going after him any way they can. The way they have chosen to do this is to make information on the internet an act of espionage if it is later used by an enemy. This is a specific case but if the principle is accepted here then precedents have a way of sticking around. So, FOR EXAMPLE, if some proposed legislation was being slow to pass and I wrote figuratively here that someone should stick a bomb under Obama's ass and someone actually did it, then I would be guilty of a criminal act and you would be culpable as the site host. This brings into question the whole issue of First Amendment rights. Would this be different than if I had written a letter to the editor of the local newspaper expressing the same thoughts? They are deliberately making the law a mess (not that, that has bothered them over much up to now) just to get their own way. My personal vote is to “ stay open and express our dissatisfaction with the government going crazy” but ultimately it is your site Freeacre and I can't answer these questions for you.
Aho.aimstak
SATS
As you probably guessed aimstak was the verification word.
This site provides a valuable service in helping to spread information quickly.
http://www.stevequayle.com/index.php?s=33
"Hand 'em over!"
http://www.knowthelies.com/node/8860
(wv= ynonin poems)
Hello people, I don't comment too much anymore.
I deleted the old blog out of sheer frustration but started a new one. Sometimes I delete them, go work in the garden, and then start them again.
http://dublinsmick.wordpress.com/
It is looking bad on planet earth but looking good for some on the next plane or rock they choose. Light always confronts darkness, it will always be that way, not only on this planet, not only in the other levels of the cosmos. It will always be that way.
You either confront it or become one with it, here or some place else. It is really an old story.
Lift your spirits
http://aadivaahan.wordpress.com/2013/04/12/of-words-and-sword-mad-men/
Now you've done it SATS, you said the B word, and the O word in the same sentence! I'm expecting the stormtroopers any minute, expect we'll all be water-boarded to make us confess to giving veg growing secrets and the secrets of woodchip to the enemy ;¬)
I keep seeing references to the Big O's impending impeachment, I'll not hold my breath on that one, Gd.
Unreal, man!
http://www.sott.net/article/261255-Bizarre-whirlpool-appears-in-Latvian-river-sucking-everything-in-its-path-into-watery-vortex
Awesome video, RP.
Like I said, Newton was wrong. There is no gravity.
Everything just sucks.
-Randy
Randy; The author of this piece should use that video as a visual metaphor for what's happening to this country...
http://www.newswithviews.com/Murray/randy130.htm
SATS
Gd :-)
I have not seen the impeachment calls yet but I expect they will go the same way as Bill Gates being indicted on 30 counts of treason.
Global Research checks in on the Boston bombing false flag.
http://www.globalresearch.ca/boston-suspect-tamerlan-tsarnaev-alive-and-uninjured-when-taken-into-custody-now-he-is-dead/5333118
Just got off the phone with Freeacre. There's been a terrible accident at their place. Everyone is okay, but fire has destroyed the shop/garage, a trailer and the greenhouse. They will be incommunicado for an indeterminate amount of time. The house is okay, and the tepee is okay, because it hadn't been set-up yet. Please send good vibes in their direction.
just got call from p
goddam it , ok we are here just name it for whatever you need that we have to offer guys..
love you and are just waiting for more info...
montana freeman
Blimey guys so sad to hear the news, good people don't deserve that shit, my thoughts are with you. Gd.
Seems the Boston back story gets stranger and stranger..
http://21stcenturywire.com/2013/04/27/eyewitness-tamerlan-was-run-over-by-boston-police-and-then-shot/
The two brothers Uncle was married to a top CIA blokes daughter, and the two men may have been in business together, the Uncle was implicated in an investigation involving the laundering and theft of $6 billion!
http://aangirfan.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/tsarnaev-uncle-married-top-cia-mans.html
DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!
i no this is way premature to even think about now but i'm up for serious campfire get together in the flesh down the road in time a piece. i'm thinkin the murphs's would be a good place for it. we can all sit round a virtual campfire. with real smoke if ya get me drift. raise a barn, hug, eat, drink, and smooze hardy, cry, plant a tree, laugh, tell some jokes, hug, some poetry, some music, dance, drum, handpan, hug some more. and then, lets boogie!!!!! ...p
hey folx... we all the same and we're all different all at the same time.
we even can make that better together but thats a damn good place to start... p
http://www.boilingfrogspost.com/2013/04/27/bfp-breaking-news-boston-terror-cias-graham-fuller-nato-cia-operation-gladio-b-caucasus-central-asia/#more-19721
CAUGHT! CNN'c CIA "Crisis Actor" At Boston Marathon & Suspect Shootout
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&v=SFU5YAgqAck&NR=1
SHIT! What the extent of the damage? What caused the fire, do you know, RP?
-Randy
Randy; As I understand from Freeacre, a hot plate being used in the workshop caught fire and by the time it was discovered, the place was engulfed. They lost a lot of their preparations, along with the greenhouse melting and the guest trailer burned also.
P; I'm with you on a work party plan. We'll need to coordinate on this to make effective use of time and resources. Maybe this is U's way of saying enough 'virtual' camaraderie, "get it together!"
Hi everyone.
Here is a summation. The hot plate was cheap Chinese, and I suspect it of starting the fire, but since I wasn't there, don't know for sure.
For all practical purposes, all tools, all gear located in the garage/shop is gone. The greenhouse also burned up plus 3 of our building that had feed, hay, straw and lots of useful stuff and some more tools stored in them Very little is salvageable. Waiting for insurance to come so we can begin cleanup.
Thanks all for the concern.
Awww, man... I am sooo sorry, Murph and FA.
Jeez.. I feel really bad -
Hope the insurance Co. comes through and you can recoup the losses without a ton of headache.
-Randy
Murph: glad you're both OK. Before the insurance assessor gets there, I recommend making lists of everything you lost, with replacement costs (inc delivery, labour/building costs etc. cost of replaceing crops/plants/trees screws and nails etc.) include every small detail if you can, and re-read your insurance documents so you are as much an expert as the insurance guy, it's their job to assess as low as possible, it's your job to assess as accurately as possible without "inflating the claim" as a counter argument. After such a trauma it's too easy to imagine this guy will be working for you and just let him get on with it. Good luck. Gd.
let us know when to come guys, we will be there to help to rebuild.
montana freeman.
from Steve Quayle's "Dreams" page
HOLOGRAPHIC BEAST PROJECTION WORLD WIDE-ALIEN DECEPTION-POPULATION DECEIVED
Here is the vision:
Several immensely powerful resonant red laser beams emanated out of the
ground projecting up into the night sky. Suddenly, an image appeared at
the top of the beams that had the appearance of a Christ-like man. There
was a vibration so strong and so loud that I could feel it all around me,
in my bones, and throughout my entire body, even in my teeth. A very loud
authoritative voice projected out of the image in the sky that could be
seen by masses of people from around the world. The image spoke in a
commanding manner telling the masses he had been sent to instruct and guide
them in all truth and bring forth 'The Wisdom of the Ages.' Immediately,
within the context of the vision, I KNEW that this image was a fraud, a
farce, a holographic illusion conjured up through advanced technologies.
The masses of people gathered and standing 'round about me were spellbound
and mesmerized by this powerful talking image. I tried to warn everyone
around me that they shouldn't look at or listen to this image because it
wasn't real. No one would listen to me and believed it was a being sent
from another world to help us. I became absolutely frantic trying to get
people's attention away from this evil thing. In the vision I hurried back
to my office to design and print brochures to warn the people everywhere
that the image was not sent from God and it was not benevolent. When I
attempted to hand the brochures out to the people, no one wanted to take or
read it. The image emitted an intense energy with a human-like appearance
and laser light projections all around it. When the image told everyone to
return the next night for daily instructions, no one would listen to me or
heed my warning not to go out. I became aware that this image was being
broadcast all over the world so that every eye could see and every ear
could hear. I knew this perverse phenomenon would usher in the blackest
evil and blasphemous abominations opposed to the Word of Truth. This
scripture came into my mind in the vision: 'And the Whole World Wondered
after the Beast.' Then I saw the 3 W's as symbolic of World War 3 and the
world being led into captivity for following after the Beast ~ The
Abomination of Desolation. [The End]
I didn't learn of 'Project Blue Beam' until 2010 [7 years after the vision]
when I stumbled upon it on YouTube one day. I was utterly flabbergasted
that current NASA technology had the capability of projecting holographic
images and powerful laser beams with an intense level of energy high into
the heavens. Immediately I remembered my vision so many years prior and it
was still crystal clear in my memory. In fact, I could still feel the
intense energy of the lasers that I experienced in the vision. The Holy
Spirit spoke into my spirit at that moment and said, 'Counterfeit Christ.'
The forces of darkness would conjure up a counterfeit 2nd coming of Jesus
Christ.
This vision seemed to be telling me a strong delusion would be placed over
the world. That alien beings would be venerated as gods from more advanced
civilizations. And because many people don't know what The Word of God
says, they would believe the smoke & mirror lies of the prince of darkness
and be led captive away into destruction...
In Christ's Liberty,
Shauna
May 6, 2013
Okay. Check this one out.
http://beforeitsnews.com/alternative/2013/05/angel-saving-man-caught-on-cam-2639350.html
I hope everyone is aware that a citizen's disclosure hearing was held in Washington, at the National Press Club, this past week. The testimony is riveting. Can view clips on Celestial Convergence and Project Camelot. Here's a teaser...
http://www.theepochtimes.com/n3/39890-cia-official-breaks-silence-on-extraterrestrials/
rp: that "Angel" thing is a viral ad for a computer game, went viral months ago, saw it on the "ufo sighting daily" blog and chased it up to the original, tho my comment reporting such never appeared on the blog, whose credibility suffered IMO as a result.
bit disappointed by the whole "disclosure" thing to be honest, some dodgy characters IMO, e.g. Ed Mitchell (well dodgy IMO), and that Canadian defense minister who had 2 mins of ufo hearsay and 30 mins of global warming/banking doom. Plus paying the panel members $20k each, all seems a bit of a show IMO. Gd.
Gd@rp: not sure if you were looking forward to "Sirus" coming out, I was until I read this review...
Getting Serious about "Sirius"
Gd; Thanks for the heads-up on the angel thing. It sure left me wondering.
On the disclosure, you may be more informed than most people, so to you it may seem tame. But to my way of thinking, Rich Dolan and Stan Friedman said two ears full in their opening statements. Any progress in the direction of official disclosure is movement in the right direction, IMO.
http://beforeitsnews.com/prophecy/2013/05/message-from-god-found-hidden-inside-dna-sequence-2447606.html
Yeah, Gd, I read some negative stuff on Sirius, too.
Gd@rp: So far I've reserved judgement on Dolan tho he seems a successful publicist. Stanton Friedman scores a black mark for saying it's “a mistake” to link the UFO and the Free Energy Issue. But the biggest black mark goes to Greer (who organized the whole "disclosure" thing) for a history of what looks like limited hangouts regarding free energy.
How can the ufo issue possibly be separated from the free energy issue?
Dolan's lecture on the breakaway society and the secret space program stands as one of the past decade's top ten most important lectures, in my mind. Wonder why Rich hasn't been invited to give a TED Talk?
http://consciouslifenews.com/ted-ideas-worth-censoring-ted-conference-censors-graham-hancock-rupert-sheldrake/1151873/
Folks,
I am close to finishing a new post. I propose a topic of discussion contained in these two postings at Carolyn Bakers site. Read them in the sequence
http://carolynbaker.net/2013/04/29/the-irreconcilable-acceptance-of-near-term-extinction-by-daniel-drumright/
http://carolynbaker.net/2013/05/07/preparing-for-near-term-extinction-by-carolyn-baker/
The first one is very long and a whole lot of food for thought.
The second is Bakers comments on it.
Murph, will you be providing ANY evidence for this hypothesis you are promoting? specifically:
... "We are literally looking at losing the entire arctic ice cover — one of our planet’s primary thermal regulators — during the melting season, within only a few years … if not this year!"
and...
"But now having to accept that the rates of climatic change have greatly superseded even the most dire predictions of only a few years ago"
The first quote is a prediction, so not easy to refute, but a look at the historic and recent/present time the NW passage is/was navigable should provide more accurate basis to worry/or not.
The second quote is easy to refute as it is blatantly false.
I'd prefer some evidence to ponder before we all start contemplating suicide as the author espouses. Seriously, I've read some bollox in my time, but I've never read so much bollox padded with so much guff in one post, and I've been on the net since the 90's. Gd.
GD,
Can you provide some facts as to why you dont think climate change is happening?
Do you understand that organic material decomposes into carbon dioxide? Do you know that fossil fuels are carbon based and thus when burned releases CO2?
So what do you not get? Do you deny that carbon dioxide is increasing in the atmosphere at levels never before recorded? The science is sound. What is your argument? Last summer was the least amount of ice in the arctic ever.
It makes sense the ice will be gone soon. I dont think anyone is saying it wont refreeze the next winter, but it is shrinking and there are consequences.
I bet you believe that if you walk in front of a semi the physics of the impact will kill you, but some how the laws of physics dont apply to the climate?
Where do you think all your wood chips go year after year? Why do you have to keep adding more?
Gd@Wf: I have been an avid weather watcher all my life (sailor), I have studied climate science daily since around 2000, over an hour per day on average.
Climate change is happening, it has always been so, there is no, and never has been, a steady state "equilibrium" or static climate system, it has always changed. Why do you think it is suddenly changing as if it never changed before?
Remember the Ice age scare of the 70's? Promulgated by the very same folks who now bring us the CAGW concept because the natural climate system refused to fit their scare stories, just as the "global warming meme" switched to climate change, climate disruption etc. ad hoc meme changes to fit natural changes of the here and now, required because the natural climate system refused to fit their meme, just as now they try to fit ad hoc hypothesis onto real time events to continue the meme e.g. jet stream shifts are now blamed on Co2, with zero evidence, as if the jet stream never did this before, which is bunkum.
Remember the "ozone hole" scare? Turns out the ozone hole was always there, my research indicates the scare was promulgated by Dupont who were about to lose their 50yr monopoly on refrigerant gas, now they have a new monopoly on a different refrigerant gas, protected by legislation. The hole is still there, regulated by solar changes.
There is no evidence Co2 causes climate change, none. The effects of Co2 are logarithmic, any "greenhouse" effect it could possibly have would be from the first 250ppm, even at 400ppm as now the extra effect above 250ppm is so minute as to not be worth considering, even if Co2 keep increasing the potential effect is only 2% of it's total potential before any effect is maxed out. This meme has been sold with an emotional package, designed to make you react emotionally so as not to question it on a factual basis.
The natural carbon cycle dwarfs anything man puts out there. Co2 rise is a result of warming climate, not a cause. During the last ice age Co2 was in the 1000's ppm, for hundreds of thousands of years, why should I worry about 400ppm now?
Temps were higher in the past, medieval warm period, 1930's/40's, and if we go back further much higher.
Climate science is politicized science, I see examples of this every day with science by press release, a paper comes out with screaming doom headlines before the paper can be analyzed, most papers are easily debunked as they rely on models that can be, and are, programed to produce what the author wants, no corrections ever appear in the news, their work already done by the press release and a compliant media.
CAGW/Ice age scare/climate change are political memes designed to control masses, see agenda 21 for some clues where it is all heading.
Hope that helps. Gd.
quote murph... No longer have a building to organize a place for everything to make keeping track of stuff easier. Sure hope that is remedied soon.... It will probably be mid or end of summer before things are organized again.
quote FA... And. yes, we'll be happy to see you when we get to the re-building part. But, it's gonna take awhile.
quote me... DAMN!!!!!!!!!!! i no this is way premature to even think about now but i'm up for serious campfire get together in the flesh down the road in time a piece. i'm thinkin the murphs's would be a good place for it. we can all sit round a virtual campfire. with real smoke if ya get me drift. raise a barn, hug, eat, drink, and smooze hardy, cry, plant a tree, laugh, tell some jokes, hug, some poetry, some music, dance, drum, handpan, hug some more. and then, lets boogie!!!!! ...p
things that pull folk together in the flesh.... weddings. graduations. funerals. fires....
we've talked bout it from time to time but its never gotten off the ground. 'it' being a get together around a real campfire. with real smoke. and real tears. and real hugs. and real laughter. sure, its a ways for most and even further for me. but, such is the stuff of value to this one. so what if its 2000 miles. thats what they made airplanes for.
maybe wasn't right time. or right place. or somethin. but now? a good time to plan a barn raisin for late summer or early fall? and the right place? no question bout that eh! ya, we're a buncha ole fuckers but i'm layin heavy odds we can still raise a post n beam barn over a gravel pad and have it dried in in a weekend!! trimmed out in another day. stuff like buildin and hangin doors can take a little longer dependin on factors. i've led shade tree volunteer crews that dried in whole houses on more than one occasion. so i know its do-able and i know how to make it happen. just give me a plan, some hands, some tools, a stack of material, and put an X on the spot.
no, that don't answer to your immediate need for shelter. but you can arrange temporary for that. who wants to trash up a nice new clean barn anyway, eh? meantime, plenty of time to plan. design. and plan some more. to accumulate materials for re-purpose and design around em. eg... i built an 1800 ft deck with showers and his n hers dressing rooms for the heartwood community. walls of the showers are clad with re-purposed metal roofing stock. even has a 36' radius on the deck perimeter and a barrel arbor over the showers. but here's the really neat part... every stick in it was re-purposed from decks we tore down that would have went in the land fill! every stick!! the only thing new were the fasteners. and the gravel in the 48 piers supporting this baby.
like my ole paddlin bud used to say... it ain't braggin if ya done it! and i know damn well this is do-able. and i know damn well i ain't alone in pinnin for a get together. whats a campfire without people?
so... i offer this as an option for you guys to consider. cuz i'd luv ta finally meet y'all in the flesh. the barn's just a good excuse... p
hancock is one of my all time favs. i wasn't aware of the talk or of the brew ha ha it (along with rupert sheldrake's talk - the science delusion) apparently triggered in the ivory towers of ted. result, 200,000 people in an UPROAR... http://www.buddhasport.com/culture/external-video/2013-05-08/banned-ted-talk-the-war-on-consciousness-by-graham-hancock
now its 200,001!
watched the vid. and sheldrakes. there's a link in the above piece and you'll find the link to sheldrakes on the sidebar. i'm with shedrake... contemporary academic science is so delusional it can't recognize its own hypocracy and contradictions even when tested by its own scientific models! and, i agree, one day it will come around.
not too much new to this one from hancock. except this... hancock admits he no longer smokes pot 16 hrs a day as he did for 30 yrs as a result of a trip ayahuasca momma led him on AND.... shamen are using a 12 session spirit molecule protocol therapy for cocaine and heroin addicts with a 50% SUCCESS RATE! thats incredible!!! the best AA has ever claimed is 10%. i just happen to be blessed to be in the 10% group but AA only played a small part in that. not so for both my blood brothers who found bottom in their graves.
as with most everything,.. when it comes down to deliverance, look in to what appears to be the problem for the solution. cuz, its always there and showing itself... p
"...Doves weight air a gray he shoulders
like a bar..."
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