(no offense to the donkeys)
Just as taking a couple cans of paint and splashing the contents on dry wall, expecting the dumping will end up looking like the ceilings in the Sistine Chapel; so too, thinking that innocents can fully understand a lick of the non-humans nefarious shitf**kery that is in current ass mode, most innocents exhale heavy sighs when contemplating such f**kery for a scant second or so, and go back to what they do best…burying their gaze toward their hand-held radiation device, hoping that a sliver of propaganda from the gods of back-handedness will keep them comforted and entirely shielded from understanding just how f**ked they are.
It doesn’t matter the essence of the shitf**kery oozing from these non-humans orifices – whether its the electromagnetic goo they produce, their poisoning of food and water we consume, or maybe even most importantly, the toxic sludge of Jedi mind f**ks they dish out daily – the bitch of it all is that the innocents are mostly (but not entirely) f**ked, no matter which avenue of jive they follow.
Almost full disclosure here…this writer is mostly an old guy, remembering sitting in the front rows of Alice Cooper, Allman Brothers, Led Zeppelin, Jethro Tull and other rockers concerts way back when. That was before a series of illnesses put my sorry young ass in the hospital for extended weeks where I took a fancy towards nurses (angels) who held my hand as plastic and metal modern day inventions were deposited into areas of the body that when remembering, still make me want to die.
After the hospital stays, I got ‘religion’ and found that, although the rockers brought on a somewhat comfortable state of languid acceptance of the shittery of the era way back when, the true path to nirvana was through classical music.
And then, during those extended hospital stays some 45 years ago, I, for some strange reason, developed an affinity and affection toward angels. Angels and classical music – surely that was the key to finding nirvana, or so I thought when I was 17 years old.
The reason for this might have been, could possibly be, from my dear Mum – a devout conservative Catholic who rarely did anything more for me during my adolescent years other than telling me that I was born on the Feast Day of the Guardian Angels, and also playing Beethoven’s “St. Stephan” overture for me as I lay on the living room couch, racked in pain from having my 4 wisdom teeth extracted, on the same day, back when I was an innocent and ignorant 16 year old. Dear ole Mum…she always had the best of intentions.
And now, at 64 years of age, afflicted with ailments brought on mostly by the goo the non-humans of the modern era offer up, I am still enchanted with the angels who just might be watching over us whenever the mood so hits them, and also with the wonder and beauty of classical music. Mum instilled a bit of beauty for me, most certainly racked with guilt of allowing the demon dentist to do his bidding.
The mostly silliest of opinions from this old fart is that surely, there must be an armor of other worldly, maybe even heavenly entities who watch over us. If there weren’t, we might be even more f**ked than we currently are – just a thought.
And so, I continue to talk to them every day. It is the only armor I know of, to protect and guide me and my loved ones away from assuming total ass mode offered by the demon non-humans running the show.
“I dust a bit,” Ignatius told the policeman. “In addition, I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.” ―
Tonight’s musical offerings:
This flute-dominated instrumental, based on Bach’s ‘Suite in E Minor for Lute’, was a track on Jethro Tull’s excellent ‘Stand Up’ album – (1969).
or, the real deal from Mr. J.S. Bach…
Bach – BWV 1067 Suite – Badinerie – Croatian Baroque Ensemble