Smoking Mirrors | Pop Goes Elie the Weasel round the Burning Mullberry Bush.

Dog Poet Transmitting…….

Today is the Fourth of July; traditionally it is a day of drunkenness, car wrecks and fireworks accidents. It is a day of countless flags waving from balconies and an endless streaming of porcine nomads pulling large carts filled with food, beach chairs and sundry, up to the boardwalk and down to the beach where they lay in melanomic splendor for hours, dreaming of something that remains a mystery to me because I am out of the loop. The Fourth of July is a celebration of many things that no longer exist, such as human rights and a constitution (written by Tom Paine) that got used as toilet paper by a cabal of nine vultures, who feed on the steaming entrails of a disemboweled society, which is now schooled in sodomy and cross dressing for the purpose of utter chaos to come … and then some.

Elie the Weasel died some handful of hours ago. He was a monumental fraud. Of course, just about everything connected to the golden heifer calf he and his cronies have been milking since they first came up with the idea in the First World War, is a fraud.

I have a severe handicap and it truly is a handicap in this world. I go where the truth takes me. For most people, their world is defined by and is an expression of ‘what they want to believe’, as well as what they ‘have been conditioned to believe’. Because of this I have gained little and lost much, at least in the material sense. I would much rather that the truth had not turned out to be the truth but… what does one do when many, many hours of research end up proving the same thing from every angle you observe it from? Here is where conscience renders one into a variant of Prometheus. It seems one is damned if they do and most assuredly damned if they don’t.

via Smoking Mirrors | Pop Goes Elie the Weasel round the Burning Mullberry Bush.


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