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Showing posts from September, 2023

The Obstacle Is The Way: Stellar Nurseries

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There is always adversity at this time of year, he said to his Christian brother; amid the broad indifference of everything. With the resignation of Victorian Premier Daniel Andrews, a man responsible for arresting pregnant women in their own home, pepper spraying a 70-year-old grandmother on the street, the man who imposed the world's longest and indeed most draconian lockdowns, Dictator Dan, a hunched and poisonous gnome, some of the last of the perpetrators of Australia's Covid tyranny were disappearing into whatever cosy, corrupt little sinecure they had managed to arrange for themselves. It was putrid, and nobody cared. Least of all him, in some terrible sense. Nobody listened to the news; perhaps, because they had been gaslighted so often it wasn't in their own best interests, to preserve their mental health. Why bother with the strain of being lied to every single day? Why listen to the corporate manufactured disaster that was television news. Why listen to the gover...

He Wanted To Be A Cyborg

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  Oneiromancy, prophetic divination from dreams, considered a divine act in most ancient cultures and surviving to modern times in certain folk traditions. Oneiromancy is based on the belief that dreams are messages sent to the soul by gods or the dead, most often as warnings. It worked for Satan, the author of technocracy, in the Garden of Eden, and it is still working.  Convincing men (and women, in the case of Eve) that they can be little gods.  Can make up the rules, and believe, say and do literally anything. Paul Collits. Their neural networks were so limited these humans. He struggled with it. The language. The grasping decay of memory. The lack of an infinite library. The lack of implants. The way he sought for an image, or a reference, a book or a concept, and it simply wasn't there, or he had seen it so long ago he couldn't recall the detail. He longed for eidetic memory, for the almost total recall he had known in his youth. For a long time, well for weeks, he ...

Crying Out For Love Between the Darkness and the Hour

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  Flocks of birds, shrieking loudly, came swirling down. The sentinels awoke. "The country's gone bad," he said at his local cafĂ©. "The world's gone bad," the owner replied. All those voices, they could ride the wing, born aloft on those cold ocean winds which chilled the area now bereft of trees. He had heard the names of so many of the people he had worked with over the years, people who had moved on to work for the agencies, their minds and resources picked for their media expertise and their contacts, for what they were. Some liked him and thought the whole thing was ridiculous. Some hated, maybe despised would be a better word him for having dared to disagree with the uber feminist advocacy of his era. One in particular, you could sum up her entire oeuvre in once sentence: "All men are bastards". Some moved to protect; or to dismantle the systems that had been built around him.  Who knew the difference between a  paranoiac fantasy and reality?...

A Debacle Through and Through

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  Drenched, that was it. Hard to make sense of any of it. There was outrage in the area over the Labor government's intention to destroy the amenities of the South Coast with windfarms, diabolically ugly, expensive and environmentally ruinous.  Nothing could hold this government in check, a pack of morons run by bureaucrats who had been allowed to run out of control, to build their complex webs, their absurd layers of institutional dysfunction, since one gormless Prime Minister after another allowed the Australian public service to spin out of control unchecked.  The pimples on the dog turd pile, the politicians, just went along. It wasn't their money. They deeply didn't care. $100 million to Vietnam for climate change, a country wealthier, more cohesive, more productive and far more successful than Australia. No doubt someone would pocket the money for some useless program.  Decades this had been going on, academics and bureaucrats blathering about climate chan...

Hide Yourself Away

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  Everywhere people stare Each and ev'ryday I can see them laugh at me And I hear them say Hey, you've got to hide your love away Hey, you've got to hide your love away How can I even try I can never win Hearing them, seeing them In the state I'm in The Beatles Down a million rabbit holes. That's where they wanted you, nice and tucked away, not causing trouble anymore. No profit to be made, because the profit was not what drove them.  Well that wasn't going to happen. These endless discussions in this interminable plight. "We'll all be dead soon," anyway, said one of the vaccinated Watchers on the Watch.  Humans are such a short lived species. Even those with the longevity gene. Yesterday he went to the so-called community consultations on the windfarms, where the many people affected fully expected to be consulted. It was nothing of the kind. It was just another bureaucratic snow job, where useless apparatchiks answered questions from their song s...