Back to my CT specialities. I mean honestly isn’t this retarded mosque thing a manufactured product of lamestream media?
It is much like a decision everybody has to talk about simply because commercial media broke a story. The Gulf Oil spill is fading into the news background cycle much like the dreaded swine flu pandemic. Perhaps people are just on vacation. When we were coming home the traffic was heavy going north.
Personal survival now takes precedence. I have to sell my house and develop my thesis on the impending housing melt down and it’s relationship to the UN’s agenda 21 plus relating that to the effects of living in high density housing while pondering the question of did Ghandi really liberate India.
Was that a mouthful? Did you understand? Hmm, did I understand?
Basically all of it is Corpo-crap in the style of Charlie Veich of the Love Police.
Remember compliance is the way to be
Make em love their slavery
When one lives in an urban enviornment you must comply with whatever shit dictated by that enviornment. It is not as simple as collecting firewood while Steve does all the cooking. There are lease agreements, condo rules, parking hassles and little space for the toys accumulated over 30 years related to those blissful 2 weeks in the Maine wilderness.
This year my daughter was here with my one-year-old grandson. They were busy cleaning up the trailer so I took the Grampy opportunity to pamper him, get to know him and perhaps to see if I still had “it” in my old age. I took my one-year-old grandson in my arms and set him in front of me on my 450 Honda ATV. We took off down the wooded logging road slowly at first and then a bit faster. I started playing back my memories for him trying to connect with the mind of a one year old, a mind not yet messed up by the rules and complications of society while at the same time doubting I still had the psychic stuff to even attempt such a thing, what me being a 50 something old fart and all. He did seem to connect with me, heart to heart, mind-to-mind as he looked up at me with a smile from ear to ear. I showed him the woods, the woods our family has retreated to annually every summer for thirty years. I told him to fear not the creatures of the woods, for they would not hurt him if he were true in spirit. I said I would teach him the way. Respect the land in its beauty and it will take care of you. I showed him nature, the mountains, the rushing stream all from the seat of an ATV. Some years ago I carried his mother on my back, ran two miles down the mountain in desperation for the epinephrine kit we forgot to bring on our walk. Stumbling through swamps and fallen trees with her on my back she finally said “Dad I’m OK”. My first daughter had suddenly “outgrown” her life-threatening allergy to bees so yes I believe in miracles. We searched for moose in the early morning and counted stars at night. I told him his mother swims with beavers. I think daughter and beaver both scared each other when they met face to face in the swirling mountain stream. I saw water exploding from two directions and then one daughter standing up. I pictured Kaiser our noble soul rottweiller pulling logs out of the woods for the next night’s fire. Our family dog came to know the four hour ride to camp ended in the transition from paved road to dirt road and came alive panting with anticipation at the prospect. It was all here in my mind as I played it for him.
Did Ghandi really liberate India or did carbon exempt India get rolled into the globo-corp paradigms of the western world. Are we serving people or profit.
How about this natural news guy.