GatesNotes: Absurdity of absurdities…

And of all places, I found myself at GatesNotes today, reading the personal thoughts of the world's second-most-favourite Aspie. on the matter of climate change. Bill is a notch slightly below Greta Thunberg the climate saint, in the public display of her hatred of humanity. But Bill Gates is financially in the next galaxy and is more secretive with his feelings about humanity and his financing or eugenics programs.

POEM: PRIMO MANE

I was there in the first hour on the first morning. The air clear and about all, and never breathed before, never seen and cool and soothing about my face. And I looked up And the sun and the moon fell in love as I watched. She sat, as a blushing pearl against Cerulean blue. And I turned, and my father's light shone into my eyes. I walked along and watched it all wake, from a long and cold dark sleep. Further on I saw eleven great birds in flight... and wondered about their defiance of the ground and the air. How had they separated themselves from all the rest? That air first breathed deep returned warm from my lungs, and caused a mist to drift about my mouth...

White America, Black America, the set-up, and the con

[I have been following Jon Rappoport's individual investigative journalism for well on a decade now if not more. I have both loved and hated what he has written and said in those years. But the thing that remains throughout his work, through all his work, is his stalwart support and encouragement of the individual human. Separate from all things, alone in birth and death, alone when he falls asleep and when he dreams and desires of his life. Today I was moved in his writing beyond anything he has written before and so I reblog his work here in full without edit or any censorship. This is dedicated to the individuals of the world.] by Jon Rappoport June 15, 2020 (To join our email list, click here.) Whether you believe in God the Creator or evolution or something else as the explanation for the human race, progress was meant to involve the individual coming out of the group and staking his claim to a life of his own making, according to his best vision of his greatest thoughts and values. THIS was a struggle of blood and courage and intelligence for many centuries. THIS was the journey out of the caves and the clans and the brutal leaders and the mind control imposed from the top. THIS was where each one of us “came from,” that struggle. And now, through every foul means available, elite controllers want to turn back the clock and take each one of us into the past...

WHO (World Health Organization)

The WHO (World Health Organization) an extension of the UN (United Nations), a specialized agency of the UN, has been around since the original League of Nations the precursor of the modern UN. The WHO governing structure, its principled and the main objective is too, "the attainment by all peoples of the highest possible level of health." The WHO, has 194 member nations, and from those members it elects 34 members to an Executive Board, these are health specialists according to the WHO website. It relies on a budget of $5.5 Billion up from $4.2 Billion as of 2018, with recent contribution by individuals like Bill Gates and Bill and the Melinda Gates Foundation pushing that figure even higher. These 'health experts' inform the greater number of countries involved with WHO, of the needs of its member states...

What do you think AI is all about?

Individual spirit -- they just don't get it. You speak about spirit as the real self, and you get that look from them that you get from your dog when your playing an harmonica. Spirit is about freedom, and freedom is not outside, I find it is inside me. And I have no idea why I keep forgetting that. Oh yeah... stimulus-response. And so the question came up the other day, from my friend Jon Rappoport. It was based around freedom and the loss of it. Now, I must say Jon is an excellent fellow and after reading him for decade or so, I am convinced now that I am not crazy, that the world that we live is a manufactured reality, that there is a massive industry that 24 hours a day, 365 days a year toils to came our minds enslaved...

POEM: WHAT NEXT!

Eight-carbon molecules in rivers of waste, and the sun in a sack cloth hauls itself up again into the sky. And looks down in disgust at what was…a good idea. These mayfly lives, passing through and piling up, one upon the other as sediments on the basement of this world. Built up in that wake of seconds upon seconds. Relent. Red cushion for a place to sit, amidst rancor. Nihilism for a heart, and reluctance. And crazed mystics still keep pushing shopping carts up hills of abuse...

Reluctant Warrior

Finding courage... It is rare to find the poetry of thought as it free flows from our divine consciousness with a presentation of what we have witnessed in our lives. Jade hangs on me from the strife of seeking goodness in this world, I ache all the time for what might have been...

Poem: IT’S NOT THAT COMPLICATED…

  by Michael Burns The versions of old stories took on a life of their own. The sheer amount of time involved, expressed itself as well. It began to no longer be a campfire tale, an interesting thing one speaks about on a long voyage. It seemed it became the most logical answer to that age-old problem -- well, wonder that is...many people tried to exploit it, they push mystery into what otherwise was a simple thing. Claimed they had inside information. Claimed all kinds of things. Swore to high heavens they knew someone who, knew someone...told lies, to impress their friends or lovers. And some were, genuinely delusional, or crooked, or just plain old lonely, and looking for attention, swore they knew the real truth of it. It was in fad, and then out of fashion. Some even threatened, to eradicate that curiosity for good. Others, went to war over it -