TECHNOCRACY: THE CONSPIRACY THEORIST

In the last few days I have been concerned with conspiracies and the idea of conspiracy of thinking. It is something that I have been writing about in another extensive piece on China.Without consciously realizing that; it was not the focus of the writing, it was running under the surface of piece and now I consider it a impart part of the whole, deserving its own study. Conspiracies theories are a favored weapon of the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) in this time of open Internet in the west. A world and world powers using the idea of the conspiracy theorist as a tool to forward their ideas and subversion of an enemy state is a potent motor of propaganda; mis/disinformation.

THE MASK

The mask, it feels so safe. But is it? You put it on and out you go to the shop and interact within the allowed, social, distance, as observed by law. Six feet the height of a man. Six feet the dept at which, one is buried. A particle fluid dynamicist has suggested 27 feet apart, as particles that are emitted from the mouth can reach that distance in an easy breath out. No one can see who you are, and it covers the mouth of others of which confrontation centers. Titillation is the mystery and for some, it is anonymity, touched with a bit of sexual fetish. Inviting and tempting, but yet warding off and away from the wearer. To some, it is a symbol of complete covering, invisibility. They finally don't feel as naked anymore, as vulnerable as they did before...

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: YELLOW FISH

I was painting ten paintings the other day. In the music studio and lost an idea among a pile of dead poems sitting on a shelf, it was a good idea! It was something about the sound a bird makes after a terrible storm; for the world is stilled and made over completely in that single solitary second. This is not the only world…by far...

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 -