Angel Dance

Each technological device is a prosthesis for the amputated mental body. Tom McCarthy, says, justifying the faith in him at  3:AM,   “every point of contact between a body and its media extension marks the site of some secret burial.” The burial is secret because the murder is. What did Tom kill? He killed the word. He killed it dead. Watchman Lee used to call dead Adam's residual soul power a secret. If you take Watchman's glosses, those oracles who lost their powers  were reduced to writing. You saw them hunting round the cemeteries by night with spades and boots,  looking for overturned earth. Trying to dig the word, McCarthy set up  to restore communication of words, novels, poems with these dead lost powers by radio, transmissions of the med, tech, word. He only talks this way as a substitute for knowing the true powers of communication with the world and worlds given by the King of Kings to sons and daughters in their spirits where He ministers to their their every need with intercessions that can and cannot be uttered, Comforts, Provisions, and yes communications, but for real, not some make up. If you want to reconnect with what has been taken from your mind you needs must associate yourself with the Deliverer. That advice alone will get you banned from 3AM. 

The short list of poets who read, influence and answer every word spoken, heard and unheard, and cried in every vision needs to hear the same thing twice, or worse, if the broadcast is remixed, then let it transfix, thinking the one primal cry, ooooo, out of which all others flow in the river of sound-light be the great hymn that beings speak.

 "A novel is not selves, but networks; what we hear in poems is not signal but noise. Rilke had a word for it: Geräusch, the crackle of the universe, angels dancing in the static.” This essence neither hears nor speaks, but is noise. To be wrong but right, that is remixing the dead, is something like "a set of signals that have been repeating, pulsing, modulating in the airspace of the novel, poem, play—in their lines, between them and around them—since each of these forms began...attune your ear to the very pitch and frequency of its own activity—in other words, enable you to listen in on listening itself...."

 The poet-fiction Romance of Geräusch Rilke’s word static angel dance, here,  here  and here, is not the same motor or angel dance. Instead, "boring a hole in the lobe of the ear and pinning it to the door. This has everything to do with hearing as one born of the spirit, or as said in another place, he wakens me morning by morning, wakens my ear to listen as one being taught. So it says further, I have more insight than all my teachers, an insight that no more transfers by words than life is known by the dead. My ear you have opened."

Leaf Meditations and the Language Revelation? More McCarthy here.

7. Joseph P. Farrell. Dogon Nommos Fish Men, Annunaki, OBrien, Godzilla

God-men Religion

God-men religion theory presumes women were the brood for space gods, “the shining ones.” Man of course was irrelevant. To this belief he was a mere byproduct of these Shiners in order they that might breed and rebreed a  race of mutants, breeds, hybrids and mulattoes, to borrow a term from their racism so inept, for example when they describe Noah is described as shining “white as snow,” long hair “white as wool” (Genes, 153). This image suggests more than the Caucasoid. It is a copy of the  Revelation, which unlike Nebuchadnezzar’s statue is alive.

 Constant borrowing mimics these appearings. The catch is that the god-ens want to breed the Kharsag text of Akkadia with their own translation, rebreed it the way they say the Shiners did the human until the words rimku and tittu  made over into sperm and ovum, sperm from above and egg from the woman below, presto-chango, make a myth of artificial insemination of Anunnaki and the Engineered Man. Which still does not tell us why the space gods are androcentric, or why they are even interested in breeding. Presumably they will say they just want a few good miners! 

 

Might as well say it now: the whole entire intellectual spiritual system of metaphysical thought is a pack of lies, but  “if mankind’s original owner-creators were suddenly to return,” space flight is sexually phallic, so there's that man again anyway.  This androcentric bias of the space god program coming in makes us want to ask why  it wants to be mortal. Take Zeus wanting to couple with women as also an example. Says the Hoover salesman of Genes (157-8) “Is there a code within the genetic code” to suggest who we are ? “Is there a hint of artificiality of modern man?” So many questions so little time. These confusions foisted upon man were also suffered by Hugo de Garis in his Artilect machine, but we have got used to the idea that a man might want to be a girl, like a frog changing sex, and maybe that a dog wants to be cat, or even a chicken. First destroy the gender, then the species. Human sex robots and genetic super soldiers are remedies the god-ens have already provided, except maybe in Thailand where they maybe read Chuang Tzu instead of Kharsag.  But not in the west.

Godzilla From Another Planet

Two views of the Human have come to rest among many.

1) the human oppressed by the planets and gods idolized in Sumerian-Babylonian ritual is victimized yet again with another sometime visitation, or

2)  Human origin is based on a law of the heavens that teaches liberty, where sun and moon are legislators of that law, and the man is given supervision over the work of creation, but not with the planetary astrology of Sumer, Assyria and Babylon.  As the fingers are part of hand and that Hand made the heaven, so dominion over the fowl of the air and the fish of the sea extends to Leviathan under foot below, and by extension, to the heaven. The human of this second view seems to have imploded somewhat from  origin.

A Landing Place

The God-ens, as we might call Joseph P. Farrell with his O’Brien placentas, propose a new morality for the space god landing. In place of blood, give semen, and for murder, take ovum. I hope that’s not clear. However could it be?  Ask yourself why ET’s think of nothing to do after traveling space and time but to act like men, like the Greek gods. But the gods don’t seek pleasure with a woman.

Zeus thinks any woman would vie for the privilege.  But not just any woman will do, for there are millions to be had with no fuss or mess, so why are scientists taking women to be caught in the act? We know this from YouTube.


Anunnaki and the Engineered Man

 Just in case you implicitly believe the line that:

“In genetic terms, this mixture was to be half Lordling and half Human; and since the former are stated to have provided the male elements, the female elements must have been taken from the human women” the Cro-Magnon tribes (Genes,150). A kind of bad news reincarnation theory contacts with some intelligence from somewhere, and makes immense scientific breakthroughs and many comic books of public consumption science. That these beings will reappear to possess their planet and the humans on it because… they been here before, is Contact!
 
According to the God-ens, their human title deed comes from artificial insemination they made in impregnating Cro-Magnon and Neanderthal women. Nobody says whether this was done one at a time or en masse, a kind of gang rape. These “Anunnaki,” who took license from a term in Genesis describing “the fallen,” are among the space gods that God-ens welcome in from The Book of Enoch, but there they are demonic fallen angels.

 Insemination of the Past

The God-en guru O’Brien does violence to Genesis and to Enoch  with his revision of the Kharsag Tablets foisting insemination upon the distant past. This allegedly yields such categories of draftable material from the Patriarchal Tribes such as:

--75% Anunnaki-25% human, outranking Gilgamesh, who was only 2/3 god, by a  full 7 %,
--50%-50 Anunnaki/hominid, even including some (“gentiles”),
--0/100 Anunnaki/hominid, not college material though.
--100% man is at the bottom and is left out as all 1.0 humans will be when Hugo de Garis’ Artilects rule, not even presumed fit to labor as brutes.

O’Brien says, “early scholars had given too little weight to those deification processes to which the later Sumerians, and the Babylonians, were fanatically prone…making gods where none had existed” (Genes, 142). How, you ask, can anybody give too little weight to their own godhead? Dare to be all you can be, Robert Heinlein said, “Thou art god.” Who said what?  Which is why we call it science fiction.

Why are the space gods androcentric and why they are interested in breeding? Just doing a good deed honey.

The Anunnaki, who pass as beings of Genesis gigantic in stature, are meant to lend credence to the God-en breeding program, but the mention of Genesis hurts more than it helps them, since there the Anunnaki were put to death because they were demons opposed by everybody except their own quislings. This tidbit got left out of the Goden scenario just as their citation in the Book of Enoch of the lineage of Noah’s white skin forgets to mention the discredit of the nephilim by “Enoch,” that is, their being put to death (Genes, 152). [O’Brien’s] God-en “genetic experiments” were the cause of the Flood that wiped out these “researchers,” or intended to. Neither substantiates a reason to rape a woman, new gods or old, whether Shining or alien.

The Babylonians made gods right. “Centered on the supremacy of Marduk and the creation of humankind for the service of the gods.” The Babylonians were consumed by their gods daily. Don’t take that literally, only their children were eaten by Moloch, that is when not being used for experiment. Farrell of  Genes, Giants, speaking for O’Brien, Genius of the Few is not immune from this connection, as though the Anunnaki were Joseph Mengele. As historian J. Bottéro (Mesopotamian Religion) says, the gods were perfect little Egyptian slave holders,  “the gods were not viewed mystically, but were instead seen as high-up masters who had to be obeyed and feared, as opposed to loved and adored.”  

Instead of confirming a Babylonian source of Genesis, the correspondences between Babylonian (Sumerian) notions of creation and the flood of Genesis repudiate “the divinization of nature and the attendant myths of divine origins, divine conflict, and divine ascent. Even the great Marduk, who was said to be born of the gods, victorious over chaotic forces, and elevated to supremacy among the gods, was no god at all” (Conrad Hyers).

Abraham overthrew them with that prophetic line of Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel, but the O’God-ens never stop. They want to prove Israel the offspring of the Anunnaki and not of Abraham, which sounds a little racist and exceptionalist, being as it is likewise anti-human.

God-men want the Anunnaki to hold legal title to humanity under patent law. This would be their corporate title deed, though arguably you might hold a common law title to yourself, although in the United States you do not hold common law title to your genes. In theCosmic Court if you’re lucky, your genes identified in common law override their proprietary interest! Then you may call your life your own. Farrell calls these “disturbing questions” (Genes, 157) which are laughable, not only because he hasn’t read The_Rebel and understood the impossibility of human submission to the gods, but because the one who owns humanity lock, stock and barrel gave complete freedom in perpetuity, with release from bondages just such as those the Anunnaki would seek to impose.

Christian and Barbara O’Brien, The Genius of the Few: The Story of Those Who Founded the Garden in Eden (1999) and Joseph P. Farrell in Genes, Giants, Monsters and Men (2011) represent this Godzilla from another planet. To them “it is clear that mankind is an engineered being, created for the explicit purpose of servitude by a genetically related species, which may accordingly have a ‘legal’ claim upon humanity” (Genes, 187). Similar thinking was applied to black slaves in the American south. Don’t think the gods can’t package their product. One thing they got right was the high school jive of halls opposed to all the eunuch intellect — everybody must get swived.

 Why are the space gods androcentric? Why they are interested in breeding? How does Godzilla land? What would you do when the tow truck stops at your door: who wants the Anunnaki to come down from Phobos moon of Mars, Saturn’s Iapetus, or wherever, but they’re really coming up from the floor,  from the basement of GenTech. Hoover is not looking for Jesus though. He will grant an outside chance the Anunnaki hold ownership of  Celera Corp, so look too for Celera.
See David M. Jacobs. The Threat. 1998. For the hybrid breeding program.

Angel Empires I. When angels cease to resemble themselves. A Rehabilation and lament. The Effects of Angelic Civilization.

When Angels Cease to Resemble Themselves

 Followers of the good make matters worse. When RP asked how angels can cease to resemble themselves, he was not offering what angels are in themselves. Thinking angels are the better sort of man makes the angelic every equivocation of word that can exist. That's when RP posited that good is evil and evil is good. Take them one at a time.

Angels are experts and that is their downfall. Electro-magnetic beings like angels are perfect. The effects of angel civilization are the good and evil of imperfect man whose consciousness reconstructs and reconnects pain, removing the bandage of inoculated, anesthetic memory. Then the pain of realization begins. Do  angels have realization? No. Rehabilitation and restitution happen over a lifetime of a man but angels don't have a lifetime! Traumas of assault and their consequent memory, treated with propranolol in a man. remove the pain.  There is no angelic propranolol. They have no pain. They have no memories. A man's identity dilemma forces memories upon him. The pain prevents him doing it again. It is his learning. Sleep is his healing, but angels don't sleep. Angels don't feel pain. Learning from mistakes a man has to always face and remember pain. If the comprachicoes could have administered propranolol they could have gone on mutilating and maiming ad infinitum, but memory causes it to stop. Like the mandarin taken to another planet to be tortured forever in exchange for peace on earth, peace at any price is no peace. No memory allows infinite torture. Our sufferings make us whole. We would have to see angels suffering for their sins, in penance, forever!

Evil is good, everything that is good is reversed. The good that disparages poverty, racism, hatred, is the very cause by which poverty, racism, hatred exist. The good invents evil to hide its crimes. This good practices nearly an infinite series of control. By this time we have left the seen for the unseen and dual meaning is taken as reality.

Of the many likenesses to the applied psychological disfigurements in the underworld of comprachicoe mutilations, none greater occurred than the psychological mutilation of the German grandchildren of Rudolph Hoess, commander of Auschwitz. These things must either be faced or denied. Rainer Hoess, grandson of Rudolph Hoess, shows the immense pain but also the courage of the great. This view in the treating of all such PTSD argues that what the lost angels feel in silence is their complicity. The comprachicoes removed the memory of dislocated joints, stunting the spine, burning the face, incisions, manipulations and restraints with a drug, a stultifying powder, an anesthetic escape, so that the mind's ability to recall the depravities imposed on it was deadened, and if remembered, it was remembered with an anesthetic, so the meaning of the pain was masked with forgetfulness.

What there is for the angels to face is the greater subject of this question.

That is he social issue raised by the suicide of Clay Hunt http://news.yahoo.com/s/yblog_thelook..., the vet activist who saw his friends killed in front of his eyes. How much can the drugs, the escapes and consciousness heal? Not only that, but what can heal an angel? Only death? Annihilation?

There is no lack of disinfectant of the making monstrous in the memory of the unfeeling, but to take a view through metaphor, let us say that wind is greater than water. That is, the wind of consciousness is greater than the water of memory and identification of the pain. You can know that on a mountaintop, but down in the pain, at sea level, where mere humidity swallows you up you are a fish.  Or better, swallowed by a fish, you wake up in the belly cradle and earth. Darkness and humidity,are vistas to cross as similarities to a fish belly. Being subject to forces and denial makes a Jonah, who helps us conceive Rimbaud. But these all pertain to a man. Where is the redemption for the angel? Staying away from the beach? You get to be a hundred, two hundred as a man and start to wake a little. Three hundred and even in Bilbo Baggins light begins to dawn in the darkness. But how old are the angels? Which means, what can they have learned?

When we want to hear about  polarities in Angels who Cease to Resemble Themselves, A Study of Rimbaud by Henry Miller, the poet taken as a kind of angel, invites turnabout to see how far angels can be taken as a kind of man. The angels' loss of identity takes up the all reversed norms which none of us receive. Reversed polarity embroideres these mystery moralities into anti-moralitities.

We come upon this character, call him RP, who, when he is not denying them says good is evil and evil is good, meaning that the good, in its ensuing manners, dress, and comport hides evil that is masked, which only unmasks when it has complete control. The victims of this predatory good are always the same, first animals, then children, women, men, then the earth. Whether the good stops there must be part of an ongoing inquiry of Space. Because it is good, its followers are unable to doubt, which leaves them in their frenzies.

“When Do Angels Cease to Resemble themselves?  Henry Miller quotes Rimbaud: “if my spirit were always wide-awake…I would not have given in to degenerate instincts, to a forgotten epoch.” Miller says, “what it was that sealed his vision, and thereby brought about his doom, no one knows-and probably no one ever will know.” But we do know. Our lives are filled with such events, maybe not all, but neutralized by denial, selection, amnesia and drugs. In other words Rimbaud gives himself up to debauch and every vice just to forget the pain of his lost innocence. It would be like the angels who sang could only curse. He made himself monstrous to take revenge upon himself. He made himself into a comprachicoes, those in the circus children whose physical appearance was tortured to improve their act. Except Rimbaud did it on his own. He however mutilates his soul inexpertly, which is his salvation because when he is done making monstrous he turns to faith.

A man is a kind of Jonah and here’s the hope, God will rescue him out of his trouble. The trouble is himself and the forces that bind him. He doesn’t come without a past even if he doesn’t know it. He doesn’t come without a present even if he doesn’t feel it. He gives meaning to blindness. If it weren’t for friends along the way, women usually, who save his life, he wouldn’t survive at all. He doesn’t want to give account of the women though, he wants to face the forces. He wants to take out after his enemies who oppressed him, but he has to face himself. The displaced angels however are the good, the true and the beautiful and their enemies are the truth that they are evil along with their followers. How's that going to play? All unmentionable, all dark shot with rays, lots of rays, but the light doesn’t blind the man. The dark does.

Even in darkness light dawns for the upright. He gets to be compassionate because of the dark, the affliction, the pain that lines the tiled hallways of cement floors along the halls of different states of dementia, drooling, moaning are no dream but an image from the past. He’s not nobody from the Midwest, he’s worse. He comes out of the grave shorn, unshorn with the memory of his sins. His sins, unless you say the innocent are the oppressed and what is done to the kindreds, the strange fruits of their tortures, beatings, is the fault of some enemy. But their still his sins. But that’s the one, the enemy of forces. So he looked at his three hundred years in the dark and it was getting light. By then it was as if he had lived twenty lives, thirty.

By then the illuminant hadn’t filled every corner of the hallway in the belly. They were all still there, but without the same power, like they had lost mass, like a river of oxygen was diverted into their midst. But where is the oxygen for angels? Who are so busy polluting the man?

He could float this river, but not like some aging Huxley or Eiseley, reimaging evolution, floating on his back down the canyons of rock. Even at three hundred years the light that dawns is still earth light that the pains gibber at. He walks down the center of the hall like he did the first time, over and over. What did the boy see but what we know? They could not touch him. They had to wait for that. That hadn’t happened yet.

What was it like in Noah’s childhood? Playing with too much water. Jonah, playing at the wharf with pelicans for pets would come home with shells in a bag. Nobody can say if we’re all that way. Oh do not call them naive who kick in the belly womb. The fish is their life. Life is their fish. Moses floated early. How far is it to where he kicks the rock. He hit the rock with his stick. He hit the rock! Ouch.

The rock has a sense of humor about it even at the time it puts Moses to bed in Egypt. We go down to get his body in a few years the way we go down to get our memory of the dirty hallway with its stretchers and wheelchairs. The results of the finished work of the comprachicoes are all along both sides of the hall, misshapen, drooling. Funny it has no smell. That was from all the disinfectant. There was no lack of disinfectant among the unfeeling. Then of course there were all the drugs pumped into the skin. That was before drugs were so common. All the pains took them. Palsy took him drugs. Rage took Valium. Lust had a range of pharmacopoeia. Hatred must have eaten some. Sicknesses all. Diseases all. Rampant in the hall. Covered when the Lord entered that hall long before and found a species of Noah and Jonah. But no angels. A hall more like a tunnel of misery. My sin was there that I resurrect here. My sins were theirs. So was yours. The enemies inoculate you with pain. Redemption is not cleansing like a nuclear flash, or a flood. It feels more like a plant growing.

 Runoff

If water is the symbol of pain then there are different sizes of vessel in which the volume of wat
er collects. That does not indicate the pain is greater, it just means it is felt more because of the larger vessel. The water from a kitchen spigot is nothing compared to a thunder storm on the mountain when the runs off the mountain and collects in a vessel. The vessel feels more like a slicker laid on the ground. With this kind of runoff you have to be sunk to make an impression.

Necronauts, explorers of death, boast they ride in Charon's boat and cross and recross the Dante. Are they 40, 50, 60, 70, in full flesh after a meal, wine and love make possible their satiate long sleep. Amid talk of Beckett dying in his rocking chair, this boatman, whose mind you think diminished bhe sees what frightens all How his hair is growing thin. Cheeks hang. His life and work are not enough. He sees the cold, no alibi. Everybody knows. Faulkner frowns. None good. Down in ships. Vanity, said the man's son.

So if angels cannot be treated with the expectations of man then what can we expect of them/ The immediate point in the classes, which are remote to experience, divide them as Dr. Faustus, good and bad. But what is good and what is evil?

In III parts: Part II Continued here: http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/.

Hybrids, clones, others, insect reptile nephs

If it is obvious that the insectoid spirits divide in order to control; that is how society is ordered today. 

 

 

Mississippi grasshopper shot down

Start at at the top of the mantid insectoid presence, Orson Scott Card says  "bugger," Wm. Burroughs  writes it needs an exterminator, Clif High likes mantid. R4epitle, insect  worlds lack a vagus nerve. The mischwessen would be its second tier, since it is what the insect made of its first creation, hybrid beings of various proportion  that fuel Greek myth Leda, Daphne, swan and tree sound benign but Minotaur and centaur don’t, so you have the benign and malefic. They cover all their bases. When the DMT boys go flying they meet the insect, so count ants and bees as examples like the reptile mind of psychs that foster in the back brain, but these are misnomers. 

Misnomers abound in this business. Just as do pedo groomers  and cannibals of the third tier, we don’t get to sex until the fourth. Blackmail is the tool there, what is used to control the senate and the house and the board room, and we still haven’t got to the commoner who has to wait to be five floors down in this ordor odotatum of

Hybrids, clones, others, insect reptile nephs

First principle is none of this is visible to the naked eye. "Look like the flower but be the serpent under it." Lady MacBeth. There are  a million takes on cosmetics, masks, covers, but they are mental. The reptile controls the visual centers of the braille brain magnetically, or some such. They are always scaly but show skin, bouffants, earrings, finery, fine manners, and pretend compassion. Probably the first  textbook to consider is Enoch where they women the  arts of seduction and the men the art of war; that is a metaphor though. Consider the queen of Anywhere all the better to eat you with. So yes, fairy tales are another means not of information but control for predictive association that tells you what they are doing to you and then they do it. And you  pay them for it to get a tick that explodes at the movie. Scales: all info sources, trusted and not, work to reinforce the whole. So Zero Hedge and NBC, Tucker and Alex,  all wreak the effect. What then can we know? Nothing you fool. Start there and take off the scales. The only conceptual premise you cannot, will not, accept, but if you think you are made in the image of God and you  pursue that… the same manifestos will seek to provide their account, but  if you drink of the water, breath of the Spirit of God, live in the Word and the Name, nice expressions, and the scales fell from the eyes when you finally see them doing it, and laugh out loud, from ages past going out of the cave of shadows, always remembering the closer the light the bigger the shadows are, the perfect mischwessens of the 3d animal graphic t shirt with ants, lizards, scorpions etc.

If you learn to sleep in the breastplate of righteousness and are covered in the armor you will see all the  creatures that Bosch does and myriads besides but they come not near you as the word and the Name  in you which foster you and surround you and protect you  and if you sleep in the armor, when you wake and walk consciously, refer the moment to the Counselor throughout the day, which goes without saying is austere, not polluted with idle talk, booze, drug, amp up or down. But it’s not so boring to see the reptiles unmasked all around in the buildings and govt offices and everywhere at the party, masked, its just not attractive to see it for what it is. So whether awake or asleep walk in the light…