Sean Innanity Goes After Michael Moore

By David A. Kearns

This one's quick and dirty from the hip, like cheap sex. But that's all that Sean Hannity esq. f.dchbg. is worth.

Sean had the film director of Capitalism: A Love Story on to lambaste him about his movie taking on big corporate. Instead, his own ass was handed back to him like a hat in the first segment. But nicely done, much nicer than I would have been to the sheen-haired, lipstick-wearing, little pimp.

It is the most curious thing in this country to watch someone strongly defend an indefensible, completely amoral position. It happens so oft now on Faux News, we have become innured to it. Hannity wasted no time detracting from the proceedings by asking Mr. Moore if he had an altar to President Obama in his house. To which Moore asked the same of Hannity, regarding Ronald Reagan.

That bit of important business out of the way, Hannity asked whether the people turned out of their homes were to blame for the mortgage crisis by signing up for loans they knew they couldn't pay back?

Blame the poor, blame the poor. These thugs, you'll notice, have but one out: blaming the poor they've mugged, for their lot.

Reminds me of a guy who blamed Katrina victims for living in the slums in the first place, and for being black, and of course, blamed them for breaking into a giant Malmart* looting for luxuries such as batteries, bottled water, and toilet paper.

In Hannity's case, he was glibly oozing that republo-tukkus-cheese, undoubtably envisioning a large gathering of sansabelt sphincters watching their boy-wunder at work, from their v.i.p enclave or sky-box, perhaps gathering around one of nine plazma screens in the waiting room of the Mercedes dealership while they had their fluids balanced and checked.

That little ditty will rock the room, Hannity likely thought to himself. Yes, did Michael Moore have an altar to Obama? (heheheh) And aren't the poor to blame for not reading the fine print? All part of an intelligent debate on one of the most serious issues facing the country.

Moore held his ground, though, and pointed out that it was deregulation that had enabled paper pushers to begin a daisy chain of nonsense; first-mortgages once sold, were bought up by second and third-party asset accumulators. Rules relaxed under Clinton where stripped away with paint thinner under Chenney/Bus(c)h.

Moore was generous enough NOT to point out that these deregulators under the Busshies, and the type of invidivual they represented, is the psuedo-psycho-patriotic sort of scumbag who cares not one wit, not one fuck-tick, for the fact these assets landed in the lap of Chinese banks; who, for some particular reason, purchased these toxic deals, contracts numbering in the millions, to keep the market speculators running balls-out, and hell bent for leather, toward that brick wall we ALL eventually slammed into.

Duh?!

Those of us who kept our homes at first, since we DID sign deals we could barely afford, are now getting laid off in the millions because there is no goddamned economy, Hannity you fucking dipshit-dumbass!

Why would they do that, do you suppose? Why would the Chinese want to do that to us?

Why is it that conservatives always call the poor and their defenders COMMUNISTS but always seem to be the ones, who infact are HELPING the communists RUIN this country? How many corporate DOUCHEBAGS were seen on CNBC vomitting about the wonders of the Chinese markets from 2006 to 2008? Where the hell are these people now? Fucking hiding, on smile Island is where. Hoping to Christ we have no earthly idea WHAT REALLY HAPPENED, which is what makes Michael Moore such a dangerous commodity to them, because he does, and his film explains it so well!

You had the naivete of those few left minding the post regulation market, combined with greedy scumbags who know all about this game from the S and L debacle; how it works, how to generate a run-up and precisely when to jump off. (whoooooopie! Happy Days are ...!) And oh yes, you have the ignorant poor, left standing there with a fat lip, black eye, dressed in a T-shirt to take the fall for the whole mess like Lee Harvey Oswald, just before we take him out and shoot him the chest for the cameras.

And you have little Sean Hannity; lap-dog, manchild anal benefactor to the rich, apologizing for runaway corporate greed; sloughing all of that history - two damned decades of it- as though it were a myth.

Insurance Company Fisticus - FornicatUS!

By David Anthony Kearns

This is how much these insurance company scumbags love you - spousal abuse, in their eyes, should be deemed a pre-existing medical condition!

Sweet whining infant, do you love this?! The gnatty, hair-assed-balls of some!

Bam, right out of the gate, let's say that what these scheming, mucous-munching scumbags would immediately do is send the battered women back into the depths of underground; back to the silent "I hit my head, arms, and face on the doorjam" misery with such a practice. Which, feeling the pinch, insurance companies will surely start using this unstated out-clause, unless a law is enacted to stop such a practice before it becomes common-place; one more lepperous thing we learn is afoot, after the fact, of course.

"They really do that?"

"You didn't hear? Oh yeah, they do that now....happened to a friend of mine."

There they are on the idiot cube, yesterday afternoon, mouthpieces of big insurance spouting this undigestable dog-shite, fighting against such a pre-emptive law, as if it were an ineliable right of insurance carriers to turn people away, despite the client having paid up in full on their policies!

"Well then Mrs. Moore, it appears as though you've a great big shiner there. Now, now, no use denying it: he's hit you hasn't he, and our statistics indicate that a first time to the emergency room equates to roughly three point five times, nothing was reported or the damage was less-severe. Well, there, there missus, up you go, and out the door."

The practice reeks of a scene from an old Brendan Behan play, set somewhere in the poor slums of Dublin in the early 1900s. Fitting for the times in which we find ourselves. All the sad tale lacks is a trip down the block to the drunken priest in the confessional who bids the woman "can ye not be soooo confrentayshunal, Sheila? Ye knows how yez gets!"

Because BASICALLY YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN HE WAS ABOUT TO BEAT THE living TAR OUT OF YOU, SO IF YOU END UP IN HOSPITAL, WELL IT'S YOU'RE OWN DAMNED FAULT AND OUT YOU GO IF YOU DON'T HAVE A PENNY BECAUSE INSURANCE WILL PAY NONE OF IT!

If there was ever a case made of the need for insurance reform it was this bit of awful, these goons have defecated out of the collective corporate mind/arsehole for us to look at yesterday afternoon in disgusted astonishment.

It was soooooo bad, they were backtracking on the later news shows. Now, now, let's all calm down!

Appauling. And their apologists, legislators from the south with that old-saw they used during the slavery days "states should decide how to regulate the industry."

It goes not only to the state of insurance, doesn't it? It goes to the utter war corporations are waging hand-over-fist to rape, by horrible, outsized means, the American individual. The one; the person, the citizen left goddamned pennyless, jobless, hopeless by this prolonged recession, brought on by anotherband of rapists, the deregulators of Wall*Street.

Speaking of which, and because big media is now a dickless, nut-gelded coward and never covered it, Michael Moore's movie, Capitalism, Love Story brought us the news that Wal*Mart and others were taking out insurance policies on little Mrs. Poo, bakery employee, counting on her and hundreds of thousands like her to FeCKING DIE rather than keep working, so that the company might earn on a greater than fifty percent chance of a payout.

Well isn't this ripe! THAT, ON A CRIME SHOW CONSTITUTES MOTIVE! Am I wrong?

Death Panels? Moore unearthed DEAD PEASANT POLICIES! AKA "Janitor Insurance"

A Goog search finds that Wal*Mart was actually incensed that the policies they purchased in the 1990s WE'RE NOT PAYING OFF ENOUGH! That means they were financially unrequited that MORE ASSOCIATES WEREN'T DYING! So much so, they sued the insurance carriers who THEMSELVES were amoral enough to come up with the Satanic scheme in the first place!

Everything harkens back to those temples in Mexico City these days, you know, the ones with the damned blood on them?

Is there a time in history where it's okay to say JESUS FeCKING CHRIST?

Yes, that time has come my lovelies, so say it with me now, citizen: JESUS FeCKING CHRIST-ALMIGHTY-JONES!

It is indeed time we took our nation back from the lepperous corporations. Michael Moore is a good little Altar Boy.

I'm not. Like Mr. Moore said in his movie, 'I refuse to live in country like this: and I am not going anywhere.' Neither am I, and I am not nearly as well-behaved as Mr. Moore is. And I have really had enough now.

I am mad as hell, and I am not going to take this anymore!

This Damned 2012 Nonsense Explained Part 4

By David A. Kearns

Kidding aside, species, there has to be someone who tells the truth. That person is me, now.

What I am about to tell you has already been told to you but the information was either given out on the History Channel which seems to enjoy apocalpse more than the investigative scientific aspect of it, or it has been presented as an enjoyable yet laughable joke ala Independance Day, or the MIB series.

Yes, I am talking about an alien presence on our fair world.

Why does a Mayan mother in the Classic Period (300-900 a.d. ) bind her baby's head to make the child look like the Gods? Because perhaps the gods weren't gods, but they weren't exactly human either.

Where do they come from? It could just be that they have always been here.

Seventy-percent of the earth's surface is water. You also have a 5.6 million square mile sheet of ice covering an entire continent down at the bottom of the globe, in which massive ice shelves hundreds of feet thick extend well out into the Southern Ocean. The Ross Ice Shelf, The Weddell Sea, not to mention the ice itself covering Antarctica is two miles thick in places.

Contrary to bland nonsense issued by "experts" in government and in our military, there are places to hide here on earth for eons. There are worlds within worlds as yet undiscovered on our very own planet.

These beings needn't originate from exotic Nibiru or Zeta Reticuli, though they might given some of their demonstrate abilities with their craft. Who knows?

Facts? Read Need To Know: UFOs, The Military and Intelligence by Timothy Good, (Pegasus 2007) or Ann Druffel's Firestorm: Dr James E. McDonald's Fight fo UFO science (Wildflower Press 2003) the amount of data is simply staggering and deeply unsettling to those of us who have not been exposed to the facts, only the crust of nonsense and ridicule sticking to this topic.

In Need To Know, Mr. Good has taken the time to photocopy the official paperwork going along with the numerous accounts of pilots, air traffic controllers, et. al, going back to the World War II era and on up to the modern day. The work is exhaustive and fascinating. Tens of thousands of cases exist which cannot be explained by any conventional, atmospheric or oceanographic concepts according to Mr. Good and I for one, am inclined to believe him.

According to Good's research, as I don't read The New York Times everyday, in 2005 the Lady in Grey even confirmed that they, UFOs, exist, in whatever form, in a lengthy editorial.

If we can accept that they are here as NASA Astronaut Edgard Mitchell (among others including Story Musgrave) has, then we break the possibilities as to their point-of-origin down thusly 1. From here 2. From elsewhere very far away. 3. Some combination of these two; that is to say, result of longterm breeding, by unknown means between those coming from off world, and some earthly species; yes of course, or intradimension beings, or time travelling creatures from our very own Terra. (Regardless of the exotic nature, of these latter possibilities; still from here)

At conservative best, then, a 33 to a 66 percent chance exists that whomsoever these beings, composite creatures of biomechanical, or even purely mechanical nature, are, a LONG TERM association with the human species has existed, in whateve form.

And indeed works of some renaisance artists seems to indicate 'they' have been here before. If we combine these paintings and tapestries with the disturbing accounts of Ezekial and his wheels within wheels in the sky, we may indeed be talking about a long-term association that even precedes man's existence horizon of some 60,000 years.

Aztec proverb tells us that what will happen, has happened before.

You look at the convoluted history of man-ape. You see we have suffered a bottle-neck some 50,000 years ago. You note that genetic Eve - from whom we all descend - as outlined in The Genome Project, perhaps lived 250,000 years ago, while genetic Adam, lived only 60,000 years ago.

We are only 60,000 years old. We are one of the youngest species on earth.

You consider that Homo neanderthals had a brain case a bit larger, not smaller, than our very own and you come to the possible conclusion given the watchers that some entity, not us, perhaps has been tinkering with our development.

Several credible abduction accounts stress the need for the removal of our genetic material. Some of these accounts predate our understanding of what the hell they wanted with our, you know, STUFF! That is to say, they were extracting our giz, even before our medical science knew all the wonders and possibilities of DNA. One might even speculate whether the virgin birth story of the Catholic creed, is not infact an alien abduction account!

You combined this with the very real presence of these watchers, whoever they are, and you could come to the conclusion that you, I, and every other human being here on earth, are not among a population of free creatures, but a domesticated one. Tamed, controlled, dare I say it, farmed.One could postulate that we exist on some sort of managed range.

Why?What purpose would we serve?

A very old species would have tinkered with biomechanics, genetics, perhaps to their detriment, hence the need for new genetic material. Also, a space travelling species would likely suffer from constant genetic damage from cosmic radiation, gamma rays etc.

And we're reasonably intelligent, good with our opposable thumbs and we can be made to build things; space ships, weapons and so on. We are exceedingly good at the latter in that list. This is our specialty. In fact, if we were bred, it is for this trait we were selected above our, perhaps, more peaceful, less-nimble cousins, the neanderthals.

So where does 2012 come in?

Harvest time on the farm requires getting the beasts all moving in the same direction, toward the corrals and pens for livestock inventory, sampling and so on. Perhaps in our case, toward the bottle-neck in the guided evolutionary process, towards war, famine and disease. During which time of chaos, our famers can remove hundreds of thousand of us without being observed.
What is the greatest mass mover of humanity, rivalling need for food, or sex? Religion.

If aliens came down and at a stroke abducted millions of us, Seventh-Day Adventists would have an explanation in the "rapture."

Not that there isn't a divine creator, I tend to agree there is one. But I think perhaps someone has been having us on for centuries with this religion...thing.

You'll note they all are laced with EXPECTED apocalyptic outcomes, like our friend the 2012 bug. We go marching off to the Middle East because we have been told to do so by our Judeo Christian systems. Fundamentalist Islam views us as infidels because, through a tortion of the Islamic faith, they are told to think of us as such. In the middle of all this the oil that drives the conflict.

Looming outside all of this is Communist China, now approaching population meltdown, salivating over North American water, space, food and oil resources.

Anyone who can't see we may be due for a species-wide pruning and 2012 is just as good an idiot excuse to the hairless chimp, just hasn't been paying attention.

Like Cortez conquering Mexico, pitting one tribe against the other, and the spread of microbes, does infinitely more work than mere conquistador maniobra.

You ask yourself why, in many school districts across the country, a student is blocked at the computer terminal from running an internet search on the topic of UFOs? But, they can do so for vampires, werewolfs, even bigfoot presents no problem. Does that make sense
You also have to ask yourself why the scenario I have laid out for you here, is considered taboo in the publishing world?

You are permitted to write a speculative work on the 2012 hype, only if you show it in a certain light: that is to say a favorable one.

If you do what I have done, which is to begin a fiction trilogy laying out the theory that we are blindly marching ourselves to destruction because we refuse to recognize another enemy in our midst, the publishing world does not want to hear it, even in speculative fiction.

Imagine, fiction as a taboo subject: particularly one that takes aim, not at just one religion, but all of them. Can't have that. We need religion as a means to corral the mind of mankind.

What I have begun is a trilogy, a what-if, which takes on the hype of 2012 starting in the year 2011.

I bring forward what I see are the coming advances in media and technology which are ensnaring us in a system of slavery.

The predictions I make in the first book Monster Hole, were made in the year 2005, projecting forward to 2011. Who among us would have predicted the war in Iraq and Afghanistan would still be going? I did.

There are many more elements to my trilogy that will astound you until you read the books again, in the years they cover and realize for the most part my prediction are coming true. Why? Because I have factored in that third party to our little nightmare here on earth. When you admit he exists, whole new vistas of reality open up. Things that would have terrified and surprised you before now seem to make sense.

Book 2 of this series is called The Big Lie. I will be posting the first chapters any day.

In the meantime, know this, some say 2012 is a hoax. I agree, but with the caveat that it is an exceedingly dangerous one in that it could be used as a pretext for touching off worldwide calamity.

Watch, look and listen: trust no expert. Trust not the media or religion in these dangerous days.

Watch the sky for that cloud that doesn't seem to want to move along with his fellows in the wind, the shade of refracted light over the airport as your plane comes in on final approach or that star in the dusk that seems to be moving along much faster than it should.

This Damned 2012 Nonsense Explained Part 3

By David A. Kearns


Chimpanzees of the hairless type, we are a superstitious lot, to be sure. A few beads, baubles, a mirror or two, tell us you are God, and we can be made to do just about anything you ask us to.
I give you any number of examples: Cortez conquers Mexico with less than two thousand men. One of the ways he did this was, see, there was an apocalyptic prophecy given out that fair-haired Quetzalcoatl would return on such and such date from the horizon to the east.
During the time frame from 1515-18, there were the Cordova, Grijalva, Cortez, Narvaez expeditions to Mexico; any one of whom could have been the agent of doom. They were all fair haired, fair skinned and bearded. Cortez chose to be the bad guy and went for the gold.
Venezuelan President Jugo Chavez got up and the United Nations two days ago and pointed out that prior to the arrival of evil, badass, white Europeans there were some 90 million Americans (Amerindians, Native peoples) and by the time Cortez was done with his business in Mexico, there were as few as 4 million. He fails not only to mention his own evil, badass, light-skinned ancestry, Chavez being a Spanish name, not Taino or Arawack, he also fails to note that microbes did most of the apocalyptic work.. aided, of course, by burnings, rapine, strangulation, robbing, thievery and slavery of the conquest machine.
I like the murals of Diego Rivera, rather than the ignorant belches of Jugo Chavez; just my own personal choice.
The point is, white people of European descent were coming across the sea, no matter what. And whoever this Quetzalcoatl was – speculation runs from a blonde Viking blown of course, to one among St . Brendan’s Irish missionaries, to survivors of a Roman expedition also off course – he knew, he wouldn’t be the last Honky to reach these shores because the event was a force of history.
All the superstition regarding this pending event, this myth building did was pave the way for the conquest of Mexico, then the stronghold of native America.
Mexico has had a hard time with its Gods and Goddesses. For some reason, this part of Central America, required a great deal of blood offerings to the gods.
Speaking of Mayans, they were so obsessed with looking like their gods, they attached boards to their babies heads TO GET THEM TO LOOK LIKE THEM. High crested flattened skulls, catlike eyes.
What? Yes, now truth gets weird. You don’t hear about this much in these specials about the Mayans. But if you go to Central America and really tour places like Copan, Honduras; Palenque, Mexico, and Tikal in Guatemala, plus a few other places in Belize, you get a closer look at the Maya. Disney won’t tell you all you need to know. Go down there, go to a few museums!
Another weird thing? Inbreeding was stylish! It meant your BLOODlines (there’s that word again) ran right back to the gods! The more inbred you were, the thicker your god-blood ran! Women were so convinced of the need for their children to at least seem royal, they frequently tied devices to their babies’ heads to get the children to focus on dangling beads, thereby rendering them cross-eyed! Hey, better schools, better chance to gain enrollment. “Just keep an eye closed, Johnny!”
In fairness, some Asian cultures a woman’s feet are painfully constricted to give them the desired tiny look! Weirdest of all, in some chimpanzee cultures, woman cut off their own breasts, replacing them with bags of silicon! Guess who those folks are?
But, what is this business of head binding? Apparently the Incas also did this sort of thing. Now, as you go to research these things on the web, you will find the subject stove-piped with dipshits and wizards, alongside excellent sources so be careful. But the baby binding, and the cross-eyed thing is very real. The ancient headgear can be found in many museums.
Bake your noodle and ask yourself why they did this? Who were they trying to look like? Go a step further and ask yourself why the gods demanded “bloodletting”?
Switch gears. This business of “rapturing” and revelations, and the “coming apocalypse” as History Channel would have you believe in their highly alarmist series Nostradamus Effect.
The futurist view of Revelations, a book strangely in the bible, although arguably not written by any of the twelve apostles who actually heard Christ speak; Christian, we a reminded, techno-chimps, being the operative term in the religion, “following Christ.”

This “John of Patmos” was exiled or lived on that island in the Med around 65 a.d. is the author of Revelations, many believe.

Seventh Day Adventists, Futurists, and Hal Lindsey, all fans f John of Patmos, and the Book of Daniel from the Old Testament, are in agreement that three things will happen at the end of days: The Antichrist will make himself known, Israel will be attacked, European or “new Roman Empire” will be centered in Central Europe (Can you say European Union?) and “The Rapture” of the faithful so the earth can be scorched of the evil non-believers. This rapture deal is, well, you just sort of swoop up into the air like an alien abduction, maybe? Not sure on the mechanics of it, other than roads will prove particularly unsafe for fellow drivers, if you believe the “rapture” license plates.
People are touchy about the rapture. If you notice, they’re okay with talking about it on THEIR license plates but, DON’T YOU HAVE YOUR OWN “rapture is bullshit” license plate baby! No! That’s not allowed! They will also brook no argument about this rapture deal. BUT YOU KNOW, READ MY DAMNED LICENSE PLATE AND KNOW THAT YOU AREN’T WORTHY OF RAPTURE BUT I SURE AM!
Hal Lindsey, multi-million seller came to speak in Melbourne Florida recently at churches; a rare honor for a fiction writer, the pulpit! According to my local paper there was a suggested fee of $15 per person to keep the crowds down. Don’t know what a “suggested fee” is and the paper didn’t have the guts to dig on this one, rapture being a touchy subject, but the events were well attended. And it’s all good, because, you know, it ain’t about the money, is it?
Okay so where does this all leave us, with regard to 2012? The short version of my personal belief is this: someone is planning for a bottle neck again, and we are playing right along.

And who might that be? Who might be staging this bottle neck?
Was the last segment weird? Grab your ass with both hands for the next one!

This Damned 2012 Nonsense Explained Part 2

By David A. Kearns

As we continue this little talk, Monkey-Children, Fetus-baby-coders, gamer-dweebs, jokesters, cube-jockeys, corporate-feed-baggers, crazed unemployed underwear scratchers, let me just say the Mayan zero-event, or the Mayan-switch doesn’t need to actually be anything calamitous; unless it is tied to unknown geophysical or celestial forces, and/or unless we make it such, and/or unless all three occur simultaneously.

Okay, scratch all of that, we’re screwed with our pants on, dead, this is it! Grab your ankles, grab your snorkels and your cigarettes!

But wait, this panic could equally and just as logically be applied to (what? wait for it!) every single day you get up and put your feet on the floor.

There, there, now breathe …just breathe. Look around, and say, “whew, not today. I’ve got one more to set things to right!”

The Aztecs had one of these scary days, every 52 years. They relit the fires in their temples, if you believe author Gary Jennings, and carried the light all over the valley of what is now Mexico City. During that zero day, it was customary to stay indoors and wait it out. If you were in labor you held your water and counted the hours hoping the kid wouldn’t come until the following day, lest he be born with three heads, gills, that sort of thing.

They, Aztecs AKA the Mexica, were also told “the end is near!” leading up to that day, that “sacrifice” was necessary to make the sun rise again. And we’ll talk about blood-letting in the later sections of my little talk here.
This zero-day is likely going to shape up to be a market mover, one way or the other, speaking of metaphorical blood-letting. In fact, I believe that any day now there will be a composite stock, an ETF, playing on the Mayan switch. Believe it. Anything can be traded on the stock market; even exotic, self-fulfilling prophecy.
Okay, back to cases, and we mentioned the Bible.

Well, you have the tale of Sodom and Gomorrah. The Bible says these places were sooooo sinful - you know, strip clubs, drugs, drive-by’s or the equivalent – they were nuked. The angels came down, warned everyone, then nuked the shit out of them. And Lot’s wife stood up and turned to the blast like those old army specialists with the dark goggles on during the 1950s, but too close to the blast radius, she was turned to a pillar of salt. You also have this flood thing mentioned; world gone haywire, either an earthquake tsunami or magnetic pole reversal. Some suggest this flood was the result of a land bridge collapsing in the Caspian Sea, flooding ancient shorelines with more than 1,000 feet of water. Oceanographer Robert Ballard hunts for the ancient, submerged villages and coastlines as we speak.

This story of Sodom and Gomorrah would be rather silly were it not for some evidence that there have been detonations which resemble nuclear explosions in archaic prehistory. Namely north Africa and India. Glass shards found here, exactly mimic those found at ground zero during testing in the Mohave desert. Specific conditions, instantaneous heating to temps found only on the sun or elsewhere. A blast. Of course, a comet might also suffice?

Okay, some folks like Jim Marrs, as detailed in his work Rule By Secrecy believe the former blast or blasts is evidence of a series of nuclear (former president Bush, that’s noocular) detonations during a war that included places as far away as South America, India, Africa and a continent that was then known as Atlantis. Combine it all together and we’re back to just 2,000 inbreds walking around, sniffing each other then, wham! Civilization again.

All good? Of course not.

You find this hard to believe. And this is understandable. Well, all I can say is hold onto your hat; things are about to get weird.

This Damned 2012 Nonsense explained! Part 1

By David Kearns

Fetus -Monkey -Children, and I say that with all due respect, the enslavement of our species by the ALM (alien lord and master) is perhaps nearly complete.
Say it with me now, sort of hum it, in middle ‘D’ like a monotone song; “FETUS MONKEY CHILDREN, FETUS MONKEY CHILDREN”, c’mon now. Rejoice in it. It’s who we are.
Aside from random neilasparaphobia, the irrational fear of extraterrestrials, there are ample signs around us, that something is coming of a rather unpleasant nature, and that something has been planned and staged, like a bad, self-fulfilling prophecy since the birth of religion out of chaos.
A good idea, that we should give thanks to whoever created all this, has turned into a venue for us to tear it all down in HIS/HER/ITS name. The sad truth is that, likely, this has all happened before.
Yes, yes, if you read the Mayan calendar, there have been perhaps four iterations of civilization prior to the one we are experiencing now. The Mayan Calendar "Long Count" says you ought to be a little wary on Dec. 21, 2012. History Channel wants you to believe it’s the end of the world, for whatever secret agenda they have, and I still haven’t figured that out other than the increase in ad sales.
What the calendar actually does, experts point out, and History Channel always seems to ignore them, is recycle itself on that particular date, and reset to zero again. And this reset can, as luck would have it, be associated with calamity much like we expected from the Y2k bug.

You can psych yourself into a tizzy and then have a shit fit on the day in question by self actualization, as any freshman psychology student can tell you. These little zero-hours tend to bring this trend out in humans or lemmings. Only if we participate, which we don’t have to if we don’t want to, but, hey, it sells newspapers, ad space on television shows. So let’s go for it I suppose. C’mon, follow me over the damned cliff. I’ll bring the flute.
This reset, a function of the three interlocking wheels of the Mayan cosmology, (sun, moon, earth) happens in 26,000 year increments. So the date coincides with one long revolution of our earthly axis of rotation. In other words, the big wobble.
What? You’re looking at me like the RCA dog in those old LPs. Don’t worry it took me some time too.
Okay. You spin a top, it starts to wobble on its axis and then that wobble begins to rotate, but at a much slower rate. Are you still with me? In our planet’s case that wobble’s rotation, once around, lasts about 26k years.

The question with this Mayan thing is, how did they know all this? How did they sync the zero hour up with the sun falling and rising smack dab in the middle of the Milky Way in our sky? Someone want to explain that to me, because it blows the top of my head off every time I think about it. No? Nobody?

Mayan codexes were translated into Spanish, some of which surely would have explained all of this, where they came by the information and what it meant to them but religious missionaries thought it the devil's work so THEY BURNED THEM! Thank you, Bishop Diego de Landa y Calderon.

Think of it, on that morning of Dec. 21, 2012, the winter solstice, the sun will rise directly into that cream colored sash of stars on the darker background, and that instant the center of the earth will reside in a direct line, from our point of view, running into the center of the sun, and (not finished yet!) on through to the center of the galaxy, from our perspective. This is when the sun (or father) goes home to the mother of everything (the galaxy).

The Mayans, if we believe prosaic conventional wisdom, are one of the few cultures EVER who began their calendar at a date which preceded their own existence as a culture, by THOUSANDS OF YEARS! Like, they knew this celestial event happened thousands of years ago, and they knew it would come to pass again, AND they knew, THE VERY DAY IT WOULD HAPPEN in the past and into the future!
Okay, that’s celestial mechanics any way you look at it. That bespeaks capabilities of advanced origin, and we will come back to this.
What no one will ever sit down and explain to you, or me, or to the television cameras is HOW this primitive culture gained a knowledge of celestial mechanics that would do shame to the average modern, bumbling astronomer? “Er, uh, yeah, this is something we would rather not, er, talk about, like fucking ever so don’t ask.”
The Mayans were the recipients of the Olmec culture before them; some say the oldest known culture in Mesoamerica. The calendar was something they either developed themselves, all without the aid of telescopes, or gained from some previous culture, or source.
I tend to believe this concept that we have lived all of this civilization business before, and we’ve buggered it up previously, having to start from scratch all over again. Yes, that’s us, clearly written on the page. This is who we are. Archaic prehistory, they call it: what went on before writing, before the Olmecs or the ancient Sumarians.
Consider Sumer. Take Sumer, please! No, not Donna Summer, Sumer, remember? Hammurabi’s code and that rubbish? The Rosetta Stone? Jaysus! What the hell is wrong with you people? Oh, now I remember, they took away reading. Well, suffice it to say, like, between six to four thousand years ago we had bupkiss going on in the way of smarts; pretty much dipshits, walking around. Then like magic, wham! Writing, farming. This latter piece is how modern historians describe the transformation and, even I can tell you this doesn’t make a lick of sense. You don’t go from wiping your ass with both naked hands to civilization in a heartbeat.
Enter archaic prehistory, stuff that happened before the stuff we actually know about.
Science tells us that genetically speaking we are one of the most inbred creatures on earth. That is to say, each one of us is more closely related to all others of our species, than are two dogs, located three residential lots away from each other. A half of one percent genetic drift, that’s us, cousin. Will you pass the mashed potatoes please? And can I have a turn with cousin Thelma tonight?
According to National Geographic’s The Human Genome Project, you can actually clock this genetic drift, and run it backwards like a program. From there, come to see that as recent as about 60,000 years ago, there were as few as 2,000 human beings on earth.
Now you can sit there in that chair right there and argue this science with me, if you want to. Suffice it to say the clock is well documented, and spelled out in the work mentioned above. Chemistry is chemistry, certain things take a certain amount of time, it takes two-to-Tango, and you run the math.
They call this a genetic “bottle neck”: prior to that, there were hundreds of thousands, to millions of us, then, wham, that number dropped down to 2,000 of us from which we have been gaining numbers ever since. Now there are more than 6 billion of us. Rats, I tell you! Rats! That’s us.
Okay, but what caused it? H1N1? AIDS? War? All of the above? Let’s look for anecdotal evidence. Best place? The anecdotes of all anecdotes, The Bible. Let’s start there at the beginning in the pages of Testament 1.

Dan Brown's Latest Mal 'Akh

By David A. Kearns

I've decided to send my kids to Harvard to study symbology. Apparently, it's a really good gig. Sure and if you get good enough at this symbology stuff your emergency Gulfstream rides - and you'll have these, from time to time - are all comped; anywhere you want to go.

Okay we start each one of these Dan Brown dealios, following behind the illustrious likes of the tweed-frocked, Robert Langdon as he takes yet another comped jet-ride to a new locale where a colleague is in the midst of yet another symbology crisis/meltdown.

Mary Magdelene, these can be a real pain in the ass! I had one on the pot, just last week, so I did.

When he arrives someone has either been murdered, hacked into all meat and graffiti, or had pieces just lopped off of them. This newest in the Langdon series is no different, only it's set in Washington D.C. and this time, he's going after the Masons, and it's about BLOODY time, everyone knows what a bunch of dangerous drunken roustabouts these guys are, and it's high hour they were knocked from their alabaster horses!

But not so fast. The lesson here, again is? Symbology can be dangerous, children, so play along carefully.

The most recent villain is someone named Mal 'Akh. Mal, as any of us familiar with Latin, via eighth-grade Spanish, means "bad." Akh, is likely Arabic, or ancient Sumarian, or - whatever - for "ass". So, we ammatuer symbologists can be pleased with ourselves, straight-away, for having identified who the villain might be? Perhaps?

"Who is Bad Ass, Alex?"

Isn't it neat the way these writers make things subtle so you have to work for them?

The way the whole marketing machine works, (and you better comply and conform!) is that they are already busy casting for the part of Mal Akh, and it's important they set the right tone with this one. Very crucial casting decision. And I have a feeling he will be just as hard to spot, as His Assness-of-bad, in phenotypic form, as he is in the literary sense. That is to say, he will likely bear a passing resemblence to either a Nazi, or someone resembling a big-eyed Sheik, with a very long schiminctar? Just spittballing, not having read the book, and you can't make me, either, so there. It was hard enough getting through a fawning AP review (vomit sound, here! )

(right: Hanks, just making a gal want to drop those 'Mom Jeans!')

Once again Tom Hanks, the man's man, will stoop to play this strangely-effeminate, virginal, quasi-priest-like figure Robert Langdon: a successful atheist, yet jet-setting, bachelor (really? Can't imagine why!) symbologist at Harvard University. The department chair, in fact of symbology, who never asks for a cent in perdium in spite of his expensive flitting about, not to mention a man who doesn't like girls so much that he will attach himself, physically, to any of these rare creatures of exquisite beauty he comes across, in these little symbolic adventures, least of all the really hot, descendant-spawn of the Lady Maggs and Jesus Christ himself in the first one.

Ooooh Sophie, I was blind, but now I can see you be lookin' fine!

Because, well, that would be just akhward.

Anyhoo-

As long as Hanks is getting paid, right? And, after all, since the point of the entire exercise is the continued, symbolic, iconographic emasculation of the already gelded American male, and the destruction in symbol form of all American, and Christian icons, onward ye non-Christian soldiers. Right? Are ye with me? Tear it all down. Offend everyone in the heartland! Stick a fork in their eye! Bloody hayseeds descerve it! Arrrrrr!

Gee, I don't know: I guess I'm wondering who might be behind all this?

Anyhooo, part two- Long and the short of this whistling? The bullet? The nut graph?

"The point, damn your eyes man, the point!"

Yes, well, sometime this week, yet another 10,000 writers out there will be misled by agents, themselves who have been left outside the joke. These boys and girls will begin penning "the next Dan Brown novel," like Vegas grannies banging on the one-arm bandits.

The 10,000 hastily written tomes will involve religious iconography being studied by another bland character of androgenous leanings, and an improbable, not to mention, medieval, occupation. (Really? Why didn't a first-reader catch this first-time round? A world famous symbologist, working for Harvard? Really? Does he wrestle as well in the WWF? Or is a video game base on him? Really? Really? Uh-Huh? Oooo sure, nothing strange or bizare about that, is there?)

Rather than a symbology Phd at Harvard, for instance we might see an alchemy wizard at San Jose State University, or perhaps an astrology expert at Slippery Rock State College Pennsylvania, or perhaps the chair of Nostradamian Studies at MIT? I mean go for broke, go big or go home, like the skateboarders say.
But, alas, they will be met at the gate by agents and publishers who are inside the joke; those who know all the secret handshakes, passwords, so on and so forth, who will curtly inform these hapless aspirants after months of toil, "hold on there Sparky, you can't write this. You're not Dan Brown."

Because the point of this excercise, on a macro-scale, is not only to emasculate the American male character, it is to futher eviscerate and demoralize the American writer, who would be stupid enough to lend themselves to this goddamned hamster wheel of misery/stupidity, even for the price of the matinee.

Inside the joke, we find Dan Brown himself, dutifully playing Hyram Abiff to all of us, who is then clouted on the head by the Cowan likes of me demanding "what is the code-word, Master Mason!?" (ask it three times, kids!) and YET he WILL NOT REVEAL THE SECRET.

Why? Because, Sweet Susie, there is no secret. Like much of corporate nonsense, social engineering, religion or Masonic ritual, at the heart, it's all bullshit, designed to frustrate and brainwash you, and at the final hour, or the 33rd degree, it all smells like Mal 'Akh warmed over.

"I am Spasticus!"