Vinyl Record Jacket

Here, here, here! Look over here!

Hear, hear, hear! Hear this!

The internet is good. The internet is bad.

Old people just don’t get it. They won’t use encryption. They scream about the surveillance state. They just don’t get it. We HAVE to be on the internet. The internet of things IS the future. It’s changing the world…

wait for it…

…the better.

Whose better?

Blah, blah, blah!

Please quit slamming old people. You will be one too someday — if you’re really lucky and we don’t become the dystopia featured as predictive programming in such movies as Blade Runner or, heaven forbid, Rollerball or Logan’s Run.

We’ve been being warned.

You’ll then be too old at thirty something.

Bartholomew tells Jonathan that he wants him to retire. He offers the Rollerballer a lavish retirement package if Jonathan makes the announcement during the special. He then preaches the benefits of corporate-run society and the importance of respecting executive decisions, never explaining exactly why he must retire. Jonathan refuses, and requests to see his former wife Ella, who had been taken from him some time earlier by a corporate executive who wanted her for himself.

Suspicious of a forced retirement, Jonathan goes to a library and asks for books about the corporation and history. He finds that all books have been digitized and “edited” to suit the corporations, and are now stored on supercomputers at large protected corporate locations.


Look at this. This is a list of all the important websites for alternative information.

By the way, I disagree with many on the list.

A little too to the left — a little too to the right. Still a LOT of propaganda. Seriously, RT!!!

Is it better to start anywhere then nowhere?

Right, left, right left. Keep marching. Nothing to see there. Same agenda — theirs.

Who’s their? Where’s there? Is there a there there?

Do YOU really want to go there where all the money is faker than it’s ever been and where you can only get if you have the password which changes with your attitude injected as a tattoo?

Left, right. left right.

Bah, I mean Moo. Which do you want me to be today — a cow or a lamb?

Yes the internet of things is showing how bankrupt the current status quo is and almost always has been.

…except for when college was a good thing and schools did teach critical thinking. I went to one.

How can a status quo be changed while continuing to work within it? The forest is lost in all those trees and it’s waaaay tooooo sloooow.

There was life before the internet and just because you’re young and have no clue how wonderful the analog world was, don’t just write it off and listen to your elders is still good advice. Try listening to a real vinyl record on a spinning machine that has a diamond needle.

You got too lazy to bother picking up the needle and getting up to flip it to the other side so now we have crap to listen to on CD’s that do get scratches just like records do, (even though they lied and said that was a good reason to switch because, according to them and their lies, they didn’t scratch and lasted for forever.)

Have you ever read a vinyl record jacket? Especially one with a fold and double the information and artwork?

You’ll never know what you’ve missed but go ahead and listen to your crappy rap streaming in your ear on your personalized tracking teleITeverything.

No thanks. I think I’m glad I’m old.


Image credit: Matthias Groeneveld


Fall In Line

“We’re all in this together,” all the flacks are touting, meaning, “Fall in line or else.”

“Ma’am, ma’am! Next time you come in will you please go all the way around instead of ducking under the yellow rope barricade?”

“NO! I’m not playing this stupid game,” the disobeying shopper screamed back at the door marshal who was flaunting her newly appointed executive authority.

Would the she-marshal have been able to understand these words if the shopper had given her a paper to read with them on it?

The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in democratic society. Those who manipulate this unseen mechanism of society constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country. We are governed, our minds are molded, our tastes formed, our ideas suggested, largely by men we have never heard of. This is a logical result of the way in which our democratic society is organized. Vast numbers of human beings must cooperate in this manner if they are to live together as a smoothly functioning society.

“Propaganda is the executive arm of the invisible government.”

~ Edward Bernays, 1928

It’s highly unlikely.

Propaganda is communication that is used primarily to influence an audience and further an agenda, which may not be objective and may be presenting facts selectively to encourage a particular synthesis or perception, or using loaded language to produce an emotional rather than a rational response to the information that is presented. ~ Wikipedia

Wickedepedia is part and parcel with and of the propaganda machinery. You can never know which parts are real or very nearly, if at all, true.

You must be higher minded if there is a hope to suss it out — but propaganda has a history that’s clear as a bell except, perhaps where it’s been relabeled the “counsel on public relations.” Another of Bernays’ ways of tricking every one who isn’t above all the rest.

The marshals at the grocery stores are not exposing higher minds. Isn’t it a pity?

“History teaches, but has no pupils,” the Marxist philosopher Antonio Gramsci wrote.

It seems enough of us will never learn — but, if we could what would we do?

Perhaps we’d disobey — at least where propaganda plays. Someone needs to topple this latest rendition of the tower of Babel.

“NO, I’m not playing this stupid game.”


image credit: Peggy_Marco





Millions Of Ones

Is the only career path left to follow now days YouTube?

Or begging?

Or being adept at trickery?

“It is sometimes possible to change the attitudes of millions but impossible to change the attitude of one man.” ~ attributed to Edward Bernays, (one of the fathers of our civilization’s destruction), in this article from Jon Rappoport.

How do any of the likes of Edward Bernays live with themselves after what they do?

Our hope is in that one man. One man or one woman. And it is only that any one person changes because they want to. It is clear that persuasion only works for weak and weary subjects and that they will only be persuaded by those who are adept at trickery — truth is too hard a thing to bear.

One times millions — millions of ones.

But what shall they change to?

Let’s start with higher minds.

Certainly the whole world, millions and billions, won’t be sustainable earning their living on YouTube — will they? Will YouTube have it? More data, more better??? All of the top of the heap are screaming for more data to trade on the market like it’s the new gold and we keep giving it to them like faithful little servants.

Have we been tricked?

YouTube won’t have you if you don’t say just the right things — something fluffy or low minded seems to work the best though there is lots of awesome content if you want to build a log cabin or live in the wilderness or learn how to sew or cook or make a garden. Those endeavors are rather of the nature of being high minded. But then there are the darned T-shirts to purchase to help the creator keep creating — and likes and shares and clicks and bate and Patreon — begging — begging to support the block chains mining for their data driven gold while burning up all the fuel.

Who’s using all the fuel? Computers mining data gold.

Data mining is the process of discovering patterns in large data sets involving methods at the intersection of machine learning, statistics, and database systems.[1] Data mining is an interdisciplinary subfield of computer science and statistics with an overall goal to extract information (with intelligent methods) from a data set and transform the information into a comprehensible structure for further use

Further Use sounds rather profitable — one way or another?

And suddenly living in the wilderness, setting up fences to keep deer and moose and dogs from trampling and making sure to have enough food for the family…in the event that…GOD forbid…

It all can start sounding like a lot of fear porn. Oops! There’s a meme that was intended not to be used by this Content Creator not hoping to make a dime and not selling anything other than possibly…


So it isn’t clear if only low-minded people are creating content, that Artificial Intelligence, in the form of algorithms, will be delivering nothing but low-mindedness if high-minded people stop creating content?

Does anybody know?

It just seems better not to be any part of any of it and to just go off and build the log cabin or grow the food or sew without any fanfare.

Alms. Give your alms in silence.

Foundations are screaming about THEIR giving so it is very suspicious if it is giving at all.

Higher-mindedness calls “poppycock” on patting oneself on THEIR back because of all THEIR so-called GIVING — (as Crrow would say instead of any other kind of word bomb.)

Trickery and lies. THEY are getting richer from THEIR giving. That doesn’t sound like giving.

And we are left with YouTube.

One times one million is a million. A thousand times a million is a billion. When did the word trillion come along…when trickery started? When billions upon billions give a dollar for something — over and over and over again.

Like taxes.

You can be a higher mind if you want to.

There might just be a reward for being the billionth high-minded person. At least a good enough pat on the back if you want one. No need to form a pact or join a pack, just be the one who changes because you want to.

Don’t let yourself be lied to and don’t give any dollars to destruction.


image credit: xresch 


All The Rest

I have to say, I am usually the last one on board for anything new and fashionable, if I get on board at all. I’m not sure if it has, all along, been because I knew intrinsically that I was just not ever going to be cool enough for any of it to matter so I might as well go ahead and be my ugly duckling self.

My hair has always been rather scraggly, behaving differently with every waking morning — and there was never enough of it to be put into a bun warmer, (that should expose my age), or for one of those leather things with a stick to stay in place so that a long, thick mass could slip down my back as a 60s ponytail.

My first car was a Chevy II and it was like driving a box — but I loved it! The freedom was intoxicating — it mattered not what form the freedom took. It had wheels and moved along any road and took me on countless new adventures — most of which were no more than fifteen miles from home and didn’t require a seat belt. Up to then the freedom took the form of a two wheeled, multi-geared bicycle. That freedom was intoxicating too.

I think I was the last of my peers to get a personal computer and I had a guy I worked with build it for me for $1200 because I didn’t know any better and he seemed like an expert at the time. I had no idea what I might do with it. I had absoposolutely NO interest in the gaming everyone was hyper-excited about and discussing in every corner of our workplace under threat of management tagging them for slothing

Typing was the goal, and to be able to type without needing Whiteout, (another age indicator) and be able to edit and store what was typed. My aunt had been traveling to visit us with her word processor claiming that she couldn’t live without it. I watched her use it and was in awe and knew that it was a bucket-list-worthy endeavor to have one.

After imagining having one for years, all of a sudden the personal computer showed up with a similar function but with so much more, it was said. What could be done with more wasn’t very clear, but I had that guy build me one. It was probably two years later before any real effort was made to get on the darned thing and try to make it work.

Of course, by then, it was already nearly obsolete.

I played with it from time to time and only got frustrated. Finally a boyfriend who had a friend who was a genius with the things came over to show me what to do. That friend of my boyfriend got on it and was all over the place clicking this and that and saying “Do this, and do that,” all the while re-configuring wasted elements and me not understanding a thing about it other than that possibly that was what I needed to do — just get on the thing and play around.

Sure enough, before long, I was enough of a pro to try to type a thing or two and find my way around. Next came publisher and power point. Some awesome things were made that nobody ever saw — but there was that dopamine fix of the mastery of a task.

Next I realized that that awful machine was nothing but a set of problems to get on top of, day after wasted day.

I think I only bothered to get internet so that my stock portfolio could be managed!

Of course, like everyone, eventually I was on Facebook and Etsy and YouTube. I never cottoned to Instagram and only was able to bother with Twitter long enough to realize that there were just too many voices screaming and saying next to nothing. There was an addiction to Pinterest for a spell — but, before long, it became clear that that was a total time sink and all that was going on was to be living other people’s lives. Old faithful magazines and scrapbooks to store favorite wants was still a perfectly good device and there was no need for anyone else to see things.

Phew! So glad that I’m not necessarily an addictive type though I can be fooled from time to time to think that a bad behavior feels good.

So, here we are. Watch this video and then go on.


I’ve been watching just enough YouTube to get the gist of what is going on these days. There is a man in New York City that travels around on his electric bike to film hospitals, parks and public spaces to try to show that what the mainstream media is saying is all lies. He shows up at any hospital where they have filmed a scary scenario to show us all that it was staged, that it was only happening while the media was filming and it was all done with special effects and paid actors. Now that no one has a job, I guess people are willing to lie to the rest of us to keep themselves alive.

That all said, the most fascinating thing about his videos is virtual-riding along with him through New York City streets. But you know what stands out? There is almost no one without an iphone in their hand scrolling, looking down, or staging a selfie event with friends or taking shots of New York City skyscrapers like a tourist would. No one seems to be able to live a real life — to just be — be with friends. It’s all rather sickening.


Truth be told, it isn’t any different than in the parking lot or inside our local Walmart or people walking the sidewalk just outside my gate. When school was in, the children started the minute they were out and walking home. People can’t even walk out of the store with their cart of groceries without taking out the phone — if they ever put it away. The groceries in the cart make it to their car with one hand on the cart and one hand scrolling the phone.

You all know.

Before this all started, I had ordered Jaron Lanier’s book Ten Arguments for Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now. I’ve been lusting to take his advice and, as soon as this did all start, I quit Facebook and haven’t looked back. It feels SOOOOO good to be done with that kind of madness. 

Now for quitting all the rest.

I’m only human (so far).

Today I shall finish painting the floors of my kitchen, do some creative sewing and go out to visit with the birds.

What shall you be up to?


Image credit: Pixabay


By Logical Deduction

What shall we do with this great information?

It is clear, by logical deduction, that those who are spewing the lies have been for as long as there is known history and will continue to do so until their agenda is fully realized.

Here is what appears as ‘evidence’ of their likelihood of being artificial intelligence/robots already:

If they can continue to speak like this to our faces, it can’t be possible that they are fully human.

Most of us are the problem. Most of our kind will not listen. Most of our kind have been fooled.

When Eric Schmidt, said something along the lines of “Aren’t you grateful that the likes of us have been so smart and wonderful and good so as to invent and institute all this new technology so now that the world is changing for the better, you can now stay home, be safe from this awful, awful monster and do everything you used to, just with your handy dandy little device that is forever glued to your palm? What would we do without Amazon?”…

I wanted so badly to spit in his face.

Bilderberg insider Eric Schmidt, who, [used to, or still does undercover, but had to step down so that he could sell his shares in this run up to the takedown so he could ‘legally’ buy them back later at a discount – my insertion], runs Google, once began a speech at Davos with the words: “I assume that everybody here agrees that globalisation is wonderful.” Sitting in the audience at Bilderberg are the heads of four of the world’s 10 largest financial services companies: AXA, Allianz, ING and Banco Santander. You’ve got to assume that “Can globalisation be slowed down?” is going to be met by roars of laughter and a hail of bread rolls…

What I have been afraid of in myself is that I am starting to think I need to avoid this discussion wherever algorithms are present because it seems that those who resist believing the lies and are offering their data to the algorithms are ensuring that a new wave, and one likely to be more vicious, will be the eventuality since, ‘they’ will think it absolutely necessary to effect a real, though certainly ‘manufactured’ event to convince the unbelieving???

It will start with the vaccine. A genetically engineered and genetically engineering hybrid, biological weapon-laced injection that will change your very DNA so that you will be more docile and compliant — or even worse, able to be killed from a distance — a flyby drone with a zapper to start the process, courtesy of all the new towers being put up by the same benevolent entities so interested in our well being.

Did that come off as sarcastic? Cynical? Conspiratorial?


“Aren’t you grateful for the Amazon drones that will drop your purchases at your door in minutes?” (or provide a zap to give you a heart attack if you have lived too long or aren’t behaving like they want.)

Viruses don’t seem to stick to their cardboard.

THEY will NOT give up.

Seems we need to start an underground publication? Some kind of ‘clearing house’ that vets all the real papers and redistributes a paper newsletter inclusive of the best of the best as per a predetermined set of principles agreed upon by the underground collective.

I have gotten wind that there is talk of disrupting/closing the USPS for crony capitalism, now that we ‘really need a better program than the old, stale, snail mail’ – so God only knows what we will have for pony express before any length of time.

Look what they did in the blink of an eye already.

I’m seeing Mel Gibson in Conspiracy Theory and Kevin Costner in The Postman.

How effective is preemptive programming you might ask?

I wear my tinfoil proudly.



What shall we do with this great information?

Who Are They

Putting together a puzzle is a good way to exercise the brain and eyes it seems. The shape of the pieces must be the final indicator of a fit — but of course, the pattern or the picture must match as well — if it is a picture puzzle. It’s very useful to have an image of the picture in question in all its completion for comparison. It is much harder to put a puzzle together without such — especially a puzzle with no less than one thousand pieces.

It has been said that there are savants who can put puzzles together upside down with just the cardboard backing showing.

It has been mentioned lately that for artificial intelligence to come to its intended fruition, (and there is an intended fruition), there will need to be workers who will be happy to be zoomed in on a task and unwilling to leave it until its completion, all the while being relatively happy working as a drone — not needing much food or sleep.

People who are of an autism spectrum tend to suffer from insomnia, it’s also said.

It has been mentioned that certain chemicals injected into the bloodstream can have the effect of thwarting chemical synapse connections that allows for autism to succeed. It has also been said that this is a desirable conclusion for some of the people at the top who want people who can put robots together or be one.

Do we know of any awful experiments done on humans?

Who are they that do those kind of experiments? Do they do them such that everybody knows? What do we know about animal experiments? It seems that they are mostly done in secret also.

Who are they to be telling us to stand six inches apart? Who are they to push it up to six feet and nothing more? Who are they that we have given our consent to, if we have — who has?

It seems that only those who are afraid are saying it’s okay to tell us all what to do.

Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?

Has anybody seen the wolf?

Where are those darned missing puzzle pieces?

missing puzzle pieces




For That Matter

It is enough to have a house and hair to comb and a brush to brush one’s teeth with. And cats. One needs cats. Or dogs. Or dogs and cats. The more the merrier.

One doesn’t even need to have thick hair or any for that matter. Sometimes it can be good to shave it all off and start the growing over. It might be time to do that.

After too much thinking, cutting hair all off can seem to be — revolutionary.

There seems to need to be a revolution.

It might be good if things could start all over.

Start all over better.

Tell no lies. Live for love. Speak easy. Share. See. Be.

Send the elite to the moon they have forgotten how to get to.

Right now. Now. The now of nows because now is gone already. No good in living for yesterday. Or tomorrow. No time to waste trying to find another better story than the one that somehow has this mind already stuck in.

Nostalgia is no better at forgiving than somebody you are begging.

Leap for joy to be alive.

Bake a cake. Sew a quilt. Pull some weeds. Breathe some air. Hold hands with a lover.

It doesn’t get much better.

“All the gold and wealth on earth” is only all the gold and wealth on earth.

It could come in a little handy but —

it isn’t absolutely necessary.

Neither is an iphone or a DNA transplant designed to keep an image of you in the negative space somewhere where the controls are.

It’s time for going back to nature.





Hopeful Tribe Hunter

She thought she had one friend with whom she could speak about what she had found to be as true as true. Alas, there wasn’t one. That friend too had placed her in an awkward position of having to come to terms with that unconditional love would be the only way to stay some way within the realm of what is called this life because it would be the single only way to interact with anyone she knew except for ones upon the data screen of world wide interaction. There she’d found a tribe that seemed to be still holding up the right number of fingers to match the offered equation — “How many fingers, Winston?” Winston could not tell the truth — but so far, they were — some of the ones in virtual dots.

“Don’t despair,” the man in the machine said, “You are not alone. There are millions of others I assure you, who are seeing this for what it is — and there is strength in numbers.”

She still felt alone. No one in her proximity was clear to be seeing.

“Sir, Sir! Please don’t put your things up yet. YOU NEED TO BACK UP!! You are far too close,” the girl in the mask with dying eyes spewed her ugly truth.

“It’s okay. I’m not afraid.”

“Still,” the brainwashed clerk bullied about with her new-found sense of authoritative control, “He needs to learn. Other people might not like it.”

“It’s good to break the law sometimes,” the girl trying to find a tribe said and continued, “Will you lose your job if you don’t say that to everyone in line? It’s not a law yet anyway.”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d lose my job,” the clerk cowed.

“Moo,” was what it sounded like to the hopeful tribe hunter or, “Bahhhha.” Cow or lamb to slaughter wasn’t clear — either way the same?

“Viruses have never been proven to be true to what ‘they’ say they are. More likely, they are good and necessary.”

“Herd immunity, if you believe it, is acquired by being among a herd and getting very exposed.”

“Fear is the enemy.”

“Thought police are very intent on creating lots of fear.”

“Unplug your television. Throw away your iphone. Get plugged in. Watch VHS and DVD on analog appliances.”

“Listen to for the closest thing to truth these days.”

The tribe hunter pushed her cart of plastic bags filled with the least toxic options past the clerk who she wouldn’t bother telling the list of things in her mind. Cows and lambs can’t/won’t/don’t speak the English that she knows. She’d done her best to stay in unconditional love and placed the least harmful plugs of truth out into the ether she was in. She waved to the man behind her with his dancing eyes that shone his approval. She could see his smile — it was uncovered. Tick one up to a possible new tribe member that she might never see again.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick wearing that,” she couldn’t resist telling the outside ticker taker.

“I know.” The ticker taker got a little closer.

“We have to resist doing what these idiots are telling us to do. It is a lie. We can’t let it go any further,” the tribe hunter said.

The ticker taker got a little closer still, “I’ve got a gun,” she said and her eyes were dancing too.

Maybe there were a few. Maybe there was still a little room for expectation that the worst could be diverted — though it wasn’t looking good — guns shouldn’t be required.

Nice that those who speak fealty can have lots of ice cream while the rest nearly starve.

That’s not true. The only ones with ice cream now are those who tell the biggest lies — the rest just hope they’ll get some if they bow to the upper fealty speakers.

Carrots on a stick.


image credit: Pixabay, Christine Sponchia

Is Blue Blue

The perfect conductor of the resonance of life is the one living it. Who could know more than what one can as the clues compound and present in waves across the body terrain than the one the waves move across trying to tell the stories that they bring?

Perhaps someone near can hear them too, but who’s to say they hear the story the same way, if they hear it at all?

Who’s to say?

Is blue blue the same way to you that it is to me? Can I see the way you do? Only by description, so it seems. Please describe the blue you see, if you do see blue at all.

The boom box car drives by and it’s hard to imagine why anyone would want to sit on the top of a vibrating box, especially one so base. What does one feel good about it that another doesn’t? So much noise — so much bad vibration ruining the softer waves that are trying so hard to tell their stories of the truth — of what is real?

Good good good good vibrations. Who wouldn’t want to go to a blossom world? Who wouldn’t want to hear the sound of a gentle word?

Noise. Noise.

The chimes ting and break the noise — but another motor makes its way across the gentle waves and interrupts the ting again.

Is it the cost of living not quite alone?

Civility is bankrupt.

Is captivity the price to be alive?

Well, who’s to say?


image credit: