| Hypnotism, Lightning and Cats |
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| Tom Keske (ptkeske@comcast.net) |
2011/07/24 11:46 |
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From: "Tom Keske" <ptkeske@comcast.net>
Newsgroups: alt.surrealism
Subject: Hypnotism, Lightning and Cats
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HYPNOTISM, LIGHTNING and CATS
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http://www.epoch-dawn.com/epoch-dawn.pdf
Whilst surviving brainwashing, indoctrination and hypnotism is
difficult, it's always good to maintain a sense of humour. So
here's a story for you.
We read the written and the illuminated, and marvel at their
wonders, merely to bastardise and copy only that which fits in
with our own spheres of constructs, and satisfies the secret
realities that our subconscious has created for our selves. He
wasn't looking for answers in the internetwork today, merely
checking his own. He reeled within the fluid concentric currents,
the data flowing into and over him, attracted to his face like
the delicate caressing of a lover 's fingers.
He remembered the corp who always had a good-cop/bad-cop thing
going, with one being a stoneworker, and one pertaining to be
not. Some would consider the text comm at 10:10 from the latter
of them saying "We're all good friends now," was particularly
entertaining. Some groups may have even used the hands of
timings to relay coded messages using the triangular watch
system. As he made his way back to the hotel, he whistled along
to himself. After a pause in tune, he picked up again with a
particularly joyous whistle. As he whistled, the clouds broke,
and in shone the sun. He turned to his right and looked up at
the sun, to see and feel the warmth of its rays. "He'll
probably think he can control the weather now!" laughed an older
guy seated on a bench, inspiring his entourage into laughter. He
himself saw the much humour in the situation, but he did
remember from those nine years ago a brief thought of an
extension of the butterfly effect leading to influence over the
whether of the weather. There
One time early evening, with the sun shimmering over the water,
and a spread of clouds in the sky, he had been in a particularly
good period of deep breathing, and a sudden flash overtook his
vision. For a moment it was as though lightning was being drawn
from the clouds down to the earth.
Behind him, a voice said, 'Now go for the sun'. Why on earth
would he want to 'go for the sun'. He had heard this one all
before, almost as if it was a generic test of some overseeing
group. It actually annoyed him slightly. In his meditative
stances a few months ago, he had first had the sensation of
drawing lightning down from the sky to the earth. Later, a sense
of tapping energy from out of the earth itself. He had pondered
upon which direction was the best for all concerned, and
eventually his mind had decided that a balancing act of both was
the most appropriate, although it couldn't be considered unwise
to sometimes tap a slight from one if the other needed
adjustment.
Dawn's secrets
During a storm, lightning had struck the external line, and
powered its way through into the unit, resulting in a quiet hiss
and then a gentle popping of plastic ic explosion. He had sent
the unit back to the suppliers under its warranty, and they had
at least joined in the game, and sent back a perfectly formed
letter stating that the unit had been subjected to an impact
exceeding a few hundred-thousand volts, and therefore, the
warranty would not be withstanding. 14400 baud. Lightning fast.
The model did rather look like seventies kitsch, but hey, had
nice flashing lights which made it look that much more real, it'
s hard workrate obvious to any audience.
The best place to hide is in full view," he repeated out.
"Oh really, stud-boy," she laughed.
"You're looking a bit gay at this point," she laughed. "I know
it was probably the kind of thing most went to the bar to get
served by," he said. "
The trilock hit home hard into the corners of his spine, and he
reeled and winced with the knifing pain. The barbs broke and his
mind and body fell into a blanket unconsciousness. The streams
weren't correlating today. Like watching lightning over moorland
from a high viewpoint, he could see the bursts after they had
started but couldn 't seem to anticipate from whence they would
next begin their formation, or the threaded paths they would
follow. The eye lightening faded out as the reality
suppressants began to reform
Tuesday. Chooseday. Choose what you want to be. Happy.
Heterosexual. Christian. Human being. What did they want him to
do. What did they want him to be. Maybe it was because he wasn 't
joining in with the illusion. Maybe they wanted him to spend
money. Maybe they wanted him to buy something
He was in the shop, but he still didn't know what to buy. He
looked around. The newspaper. The news changed everyday. A
national newspaper, yes.
Keep your third eye open. He didn't know if it was night or day
anyway. Night and day were the same, contiguous, it was only a
layer of abstraction. Hypnotic brainwashing
His thoughts had streamed overnight. The paper arrived that next
day. Bringing its folded pages of faces to the floor. He leafed
through the stories. There was definitely a correlation. He
matched the stories in his mind. He had thought of some of them
the night before as he lay in his room not sleeping. Almost as
if he was predicting. It couldn't be. He had to break the spell.
He felt as though he had been brainwashed. Hypnotised.
Coupled with a few more weeks of god-like experiences from the
feedback that the ego of the world seemed to chuck-out
everywhere, the awareness that some sort of brainwashing had
been performed, and the fact that it seemed over the years many
negative phrases may have been shouted out deliberately in what
was more than just banter
He had the illusion of being at exactly the correct place,
precisely at the right point at the right time, a synchronous
epoch of infinite destinies. The intensity of the synapse
firings began to break his negative programming. He started to
become aware of all the programmed routes and keyphrases, the
acted charades and the brainwashed scripts to repeat. The
fireworks. The location. The flat. The bar. The scripts. All
depended on him being at that moment and place, yet all was as
it was all said to him all those years ago. His entire life
seemed as an artificially constructed set-up.
It was as though he had no choice, no option, but to play out
the placings that had been brainwashed into him. He was
beginning to wonder if he had simply been through too many
programs. With ever age and ever glimpsing of darkened secrets,
the allure of the silent light seemed ever sweeter, it's warmth
ever more promising of the comforting delights of a whispering
breeze.
Yet God or daemons had more uses to make of him yet. His soul
seemed free as within it lived its secret of salvation, and his
body was free also. Free for the realms of earth to weave the
manipulations they had planned for him. In the warped
simplicity of its complexity, the trilock fought against the
invading isoteric construction. The trilock had been constructed
to permit only a path of righteous conclusion, and its own
destruction program conflicted with the destructive tendencies
of the isoteric routine. As the patterned routes of the clips
wrote-out into their autocompletion, within them was born the
hope, faith, and love of a protection routine. Isoteric
destruction was no longer a path available to be fused into the
gelatinous mould of completed reality.
Chapter two - Billy the cat
He was in another period of awakened sleep in his dreams. His
mind was reflecting on the fact that in a clip he had reasonably
stated that if anyone wanted to try and enter his dreams then
they should at least knock first.
More likely simply sleeping, dreaming of those beloved cat-
biscuits. Surely not. Yet yes, it was a distant meowing.
Either way, the depth of its poetry was
interesting.
He was enjoying an afternoon of poetic writing, and was skipping
across the page with his pen, joyfully dancing out alternate
paragraphs with alternating hands; when in a moment of
depersonalised experience, his eyes glanced down to the page:
Athemic Clown/Foobar/Sizsi/Ziowl - Fudge fur Cats/Kittens.
Ouzi. Ripen and fitten.
Budgigaerden/Sizimimicarz - CIA coda dodo.
Ist ein anglais danke leaf dragon breth'ed air?
danske pacen sinden iden quatre * nonae vert
Thought sequence thought not not forgotten any knot of any * nominae
I know not, yet I fear not, so I shall not fail knot luna
My eyes seek the vision of two
My own eyed vision is mine owned
14.2 A potentially poetic weekend
Continuing with my writings, I found that I was increasingly
inspired by a sense of rhymed inflection and intonation, which
seemed to grow inside of my imagination in a 4/4 rhyming pattern.
So extensively so, that I was increasingly drawn to poeticism,
and the gentle minded songs in my minded cared mind were weaving
a vastness of work that was attempting to encompass many ideas,
but was extendably extensible in its production.
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http://store.steampowered.com/app/95700/
The Cat and the Coup is a documentary game in which you play
the cat of Dr. Mohammed Mossadegh, the first democratically
elected Prime Minister of Iran. During the summer of 1953,
the CIA engineered a coup to bring about his downfall.
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http://www.acronym.org.uk/biogkatb.htm
Kat has written on a range of peace and security issues,
including producing briefings on Trident replacement and Iran's
nuclear programme, articles on UK nuclear weapons policy and a
report for the UN Committee on Human Rights. Over the years, Kat
has been involved with several grassroots campaigns on peace and
nuclear issues. She currently serves on the board of trustees
for the Trust for Research and Education into the Arms Trade
(TREAT).
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BEAVER CLEAVER, ENEMY OF THE STATE
You are in very serious trouble, Beaver Cleaver.
"Way to go, Beav!", chimed in Wally. "You and your
little Boy Scout friends try to figure out how to light
a fire by rubbing two sticks together and burn 100,000 acres
that threaten a nuclear lab, and nearly send up plumes
of radioactive smoke. Boy, are you going to get it, now!"
Ward Cleaver warned sternly "You cannot just go around punching
the Prime Minister of Italy in the nose, upsetting the Queen of
England, attracting lightning that shuts down a nuclear reactor,
and expect to get away with it.
You are hereby grounded, young man."
"But Gee whiz, Dad," said Beaver. "If the nuclear reactor
had been properly grounded, it wouldn't have been disabled
by the lightning bolt that my kite attracted. I was only playing."
"How many times have I told you not to fly a kite in
the rain, on a copper wire attached to a nickel plate
that you are holding between your teeth, young man?",
said Ward. "Or to stand up in an aluminum canoe and wave
your arms, in the middle of a lake, making yourself the
tallest exposed object, during a lightning storm
...like the unfortunate Mr. Colby?"
"But Dad," said the Beaver, "What about my pal Gordy?
Little G. Gordon Liddy climbed up a tree and defied
the lightning while whistling Wagner's 'Ride of the Valkyries'.
He says that he wants to overcome his fears, so he can
work for the President of the United States, someday."
"Beaver, I told you to stay away from Gordy.
He is a bad influence", said Ward.
God must have been protecting the Beaver that day, which is why
Beaver almost became a Believer. But the Gods had to be Crazy.
The year was 1953. These were days of innocence.
The 60,000 million dead of WWII were a long-forgotten
memory from 8 short years prior. The radioactivity of
scorched Hirohshima was too far from Mayfield, USA
to be of concern.
The McCarthy witchhunts were not scheduled to start
until the following year.
Meanwhile, President Eisenhower was preparing to ferret
all of the lesbians out of the WACs.
Little could the Beaver have imagined the chain of events
that was preparing to unfold.
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http://www.salon.com/aug97/mothers/beaver970822.html
living down beaver
WHEN YOU'RE TRYING TO SMASH THE STATE, IT'S
PAINFUL TO BE REMINDED THAT YOU WERE ONCE
GILBERT TO JERRY MATHERS' BEAVER ON THE TV
SHOW THAT DEFINED WHITE-BREAD SUBURBIA.
when Richard Nixon ordered U.S. troops to invade Cambodia in
April 1970, I was standing in front of the New Haven, Conn.,
courthouse, surrounded by National Guard soldiers who had been
issued live ammunition. Like every other young radical on the
East Coast, I had come to New Haven to protest the arrest of
Black Panther leader Bobby Seale. We were smoldering with
discontent, and our mood had not been improved by a dose of
police pepper gas the night before.
From the standpoint of ensuring domestic tranquillity, this was
an inauspicious moment for Nixon to launch his invasion. When
Tom Hayden suddenly announced what was happening in Cambodia, 20,
000 of us decided in a burst of participatory democracy to
return to our campuses and organize a national student strike.
Forget New Haven, we would paralyze the country! At my own
nearby college the next day, my friends and I kept interrupting
a Grateful Dead concert to urge our fellow students to boycott
classes for the rest of the semester. Our appeals met with
success, but, to my eternal humiliation, a large poster appeared
in the student dining hall mocking my efforts. It read, "Strike?
Gee, Beav, I don't know."
I had been outed, publicly shamed: a long-haired New Leftist in
regulation denim work shirt and bell-bottomed blue jeans exposed
as a former child actor in "Leave it to Beaver," the
quintessential suburban sitcom. There was nowhere to run,
nowhere to hide. I was Gilbert Bates, Beaver's friend. "Gee,
Beav, I don't know" was my signature line. There. I've admitted
it. They can't hurt me anymore.
From 1958 until 1963, I appeared in more than 50 episodes of
"Leave it to Beaver." I was the blond kid with big ears who
usually manipulated the gullible Beaver Cleaver into committing
some minor transgression. I would then disappear while Beaver
was caught and punished. "I may be a dirty rat," Gilbert
acknowledged, "but I'm not a dumb rat."
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Dirty tricks - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Dirty tricks are unethical, duplicitous, slanderous or illegal
tactics employed ... "dirty tricks" performed against opponents
by Richard Nixon's employee, Donald Segretti. Segretti famously
coined the term 'ratfucking' for recruiting ...
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dirty_tricks
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Richard Nixon, Cat Burglar
These high quality Richard Nixon, Cat Burglar Postcards(Package
of 8) are printed on glossy, 12 pt paper, and come in a package
of eight. ...
www.cafepress.com ? Postcards
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Richard Nixon the Cat: Maybe coronavirus (FCoV), maybe giardiasis
www.democraticunderground.com ? Discuss
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Quotes from The Sheboygan Press - News, photos, topics, and quotes
"These dirty Nixonion tactics have no place in Wisconsin ... And
we don't ...
iplextra.indiatimes.com/quote/0ah41ib5Uufiw
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Wisconsin: Cheese Seized, Rat Infestation, Food Safety at Circle
... Hey, all you cheese heads, what's going on in Wisconsin? ...
www.circleoffood.com/.../wisconsin-cheese-seized-rat-infestation-food-safety/
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G. Gordon Liddy is pure pussy
Gordon Liddy is pure pussy is on FacebookSign up for Facebook to
connect with ... Examples include catching, cooking and eating a
rat (in order to ... a tree during a thunderstorm (in order to
overcome a phobia of lightning). ...
www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=2246877957
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Die Cat Die lyrics - Koffin Kats lyrics
... I hate the way you treat me like shit. I never was your friend ...
www.allthelyrics.com/...kats/die_cat_die-lyrics-1241611.html
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