Thursday, May 31, 2012

Why I Don't Care About "What Not To Wear."

If there's one show I have despised more than anything else, it's that show on TLC called, "What Not To Wear." There is no better example of pure commercial enslavement of one's soul, than this fodder.

Seriously, who wants to give up all of the clothes that they've ever owned and paid good money for, or were given as presents by friends, family, loved ones and people who aren't even around anymore; just because they aren't trendy in the corporate workplace. Am I a product of some sort? I could've sworn that I was a human being. So why must I sell myself off like some expensive whore?

The show always seems to target those who live an alternate lifestyle, those who don't quite fit in with the mainstream corporate society. It's always people with piercings or tats or green hair. If not that, it's people who dress altogether different, because they don't feel that they need to keep up with the sham that is fashion, which changes everyday. I've never cared, and I never will care about the foolishness of fashion.

Sure, they'll give you 500 dollars that you can use to buy a handful of expensive outfits to wear from Saks Fifth Avenue. But chances are, you had more clothes before you even got the money. Also, you damned well won't be able to keep up the finances required to dress like that everyday. Things rip, things tear and most of this shit is made in foreign countries in the first place. It's made cheap, sold expensively; and isn't made to last.

Most of the clothes that you already had will probably last much longer.

Then you get a makeover. Yeah, that's fine for a few weeks, maybe a month. But if you don't have their products or their skill, you'll never be able to keep up that look. Thankfully people who are skilled with makeup actually post howto's on youtube these days to help women who aren't really skilled and have to be frugal, like every other normal human being.

You dress in the clothes of the elite, so that you can work under them. You might as well just stand in a hexagram and chant their malformed occult semblances. But you'll never see your masters, because you're too busy working in one of their many corporate offices making what they would consider chump change, even though it's the most money that you've ever made. But that's life.

Or is it? The elite love power, they worship it. It's pretty much what their whole malformation is based on. I remember Crowleys' "...And drink wines, and wines that foam!" which I've always thought meant to enjoy life to the fullest. But they see it as living richly, as money being the only thing of importance.

You may not even realize it yet, but when you wear what THEY WANT YOU TO WEAR, so that you work where THEY WANT YOU TO WORK; you've just given up your identity to the corporate slave system. Don't fret, we all have to do it sometime. Just know that if all electricity leaves the planet and things like fashion are no longer important, you might be happy to be wearing anything. If the air gets uninhabitable and they have to build special domes for the elite and brainwashed, you'll be thrown right out of your expensive clothes and have to suffer out in the wasteland that they are working on creating as we speak.

So when you see someone looking snazzy and presentable, just remember who sets the standards. Funny thing is, they wont give a damn how you're dressed. Those armed guards at the gates will shoot your snazzy ass and that'll be the end of it. Be happy with what you've got on.

Fashion is a lie, it's a scam. Dress the way that you feel is right, the way that expresses your personality. They despise personality, difference and the urge or nature to rebel against them. Anything that can stop them, they'll hate and try to vanquish as soon as possible. Don't fall for the outlandish styles of Lady Gaga and Nicki Minaj, because they're playing the same game. When you're a puppet, you can do anything you want, as long as you can convince someone that they're on the winning team.

Go do your research folks, and keep your clothes on. The clothes that you like.









Sunday, May 27, 2012

Midnight Sun. What an insult to literature.

According to Wikipedia, Stephanie Meyer is actually going to be able to recycle her own crap in the upcoming Midnight Sun series. This time, instead of telling the story in Bella's point of view, she's going to recycle everything and write it in Edward's point of view.

Encyclopedia Dramatica really says it best here:

"Also known as Twilight 2: Electric Boogaloo, and "holy shit, do you really need more twinkies and ho-hos?". This book will be the same old stupid crap from the first Twilight, only told from Edward's perspective (oh the originality), undeniable proof that Meyer is not only shameless, but also lazy and fat; she gets to recycle all her old dialogue, change a few verbs and nouns and write approximately 2% of a new book. This book plus the following Twilight Guide and the movie companion version of the book just prove that Stephenie is just milking these fangirls for all they're worth (and they deserve it for being so stupid to actually like this shit)."

Even though this is coming from a satirical wiki, I really can't help but agree. It is truly sad that Meyer has not decided to pull another idea out of the hat, like most real writers; and instead has decided to literally just milk the series for all it's fucking worth. As with my WD novels, I am completely going to be done after the third one. Even if I made a fortune off those books, I'd never write another one and would use my stubbornness to deny even any monetary offer for a fourth Will's Downfall anything! Even a novella would be off the table. 

To continue writing 80 billion novels based on the same fucking series is absolutely pathetic. Authors did not do it in the past, you never saw Dickens or Melville or Clemens writing sequels and prequels and offshoots of their classics, so why do so many writers feel that they need to milk their franchises? I try to stuff all I can in three books. But when it's done, it's done. I'll move on, just like any of the greats. 

Let's even take Clive Barker for example. Now he has written a few series novels, but he always manages to come out with something fresh. The same can be said with Neil Gaiman. Of course, even great authors like George R.R. Martin has let fame go to his head, as he's decided to write more books in the Song Of Fire and Ice series, because Game Of Thrones became so fucking popular. 

But Charlaine Harris, on the other hand, announced that she was not going to write anymore Sookie Stackhouse, after the last two books, because she felt that the story had been told. It does not need milking, let True Blood do that. 

There is a plague on American Literature these days, and I've noticed it in dealing with agents and publishers. You have to give them what they want, not something that is unique, original, and would challenge the minds of readers. I could write any sort of simple vampire tale, fantasy romance, or the whole nine yards. But when I wrote WD, I was trying my best to write the "Anti-Twilight."

Here is displayed a rare first page from WD that has been cut from the official version. It explained the entire truth of the series:

"So... Why are you still reading?

I don't know. I honestly haven't the faintest idea.


Perhaps, a friend told you that it was worthwhile, and not written like some cheesy teen vampire
romance novel, which everyone seems to be reading these days. The character might be a high
school student, but he doesn’t drink blood, nor does he appeal very much to young women.
After all, I’m sure that there are far more brilliant stories out there with far more pages, and
gargantuan amounts of detail. That’s probably more to your style, eh? So one man’s tale can’t be
told because it lacks the glamor of a Hollywood blockbuster?


Well, there’s no “William Barker and The Manure Bucket Of Wonder” or “The Amazing Right
Shoe Of Finneus Pendragon” if that’s what you wanted.


If you‘re looking for that, then you’d probably be better off to quit reading now.
Sometimes books have the ability to tell whether or not their readers will enjoy them. This one
however; thinks that you might enjoy reading about a lovesick cultural taboo with fangs, or a
prepubescent teenage sorcerer.


Unless your church shuns on such things. (Assuming of course, that you go to church.)
I don’t, and I’m better for it. You may not feel this way, but I do, and I would feel quite well if
you would just put this book down. After all, this tale is so strenuous that I’d rather it not be read
at all.


But, if you really insist, or have nothing at all in the world better to do…
Then, turn the page."


Do you get it now? The entire WD saga was written as a big slap in the face to current American literature. But you know what? People realized that. They also realized that the book series was different, original, hardcore and gritty. People have told me that my writing talks to them. But apparently that doesn't become an easy cash cow. 


WD is not a golden calf, it is an experiment and a testament to what real literature could and should be. There are many authors out there, like me; who have seen the trends and realize that the publishing world is not what it used to be.


If Meyer is allowed to in essence, re-write her novels as the other character and still be heavily compensated for it; then I truly believe the mainstream American publishing industry to be dead. It's not about originality, it's about quick sales. It's got to sell! It's all high market capitalism, filling the minds of youth with blather, rather than food for thought - which novels used to offer. I'm not saying that all current novels are this way, but the majority of youth paperbacks seem to repeat themselves like bad Hollywood remakes.


Just like the movie industry, and the game industry, the publishing industry is more concerned with making a quick buck, than a quality product. People just don't see movies anymore because they suck. Games these days constantly the same themes, and so do books apparently. 


Originality is dead. Enjoy the Midnight Sun series.

 

NO PARKING

There was always one space. 
 
There was always one space that I preferred most, one space where I knew that my safety and security would be assured. It wasn’t in a church, and it wasn’t in a hospital. It was in a certain parking space locate beside the Good And Right, which was a store that I often frequented.
Sometimes I would go there, just so I could park in this space, right under the window; and crank up the air conditioning, while listening to old tunes from days gone by. Bing Crosby was my favorite, as was Elton John, and Tom Petty. These men made interesting music, even though each had a very different take on what music should be in their eyes. 
 
The police thought that I was just a junkie or something, that I was just wasted and far much too gone to be able to comprehend reality. They would approach me in their cruisers, sometimes daily, to make sure that I was abiding the law. I couldn’t think of any reason to break it, and if one would observe the consequences, then one would surely realize that breaking the law meant confinement in a place which is far removed from safety. 
 
A place that would be far removed from my space...my parking space. 
 
To others, number 19 on the grid was just another parking space. It was just a residence for one’s car, so that they didn’t have to drive into the door with it, or so that they wouldn’t have to turn it off in the middle of the road, or on someone’s freshly manicured lawn. 
 
But I didn’t see it that way. Not now, not ever. This was the space that my mother had preferred in her days, and it is the place that I have been conditioned to prefer as well, so it seems. Every time that I put on the parking break, I tend to feel a sort of orgasmic sensation, like I had in a sense, been entering into the core of a beautiful woman with my metallic vehicle. A beautiful woman who would allow me to stay in her care, and under her watch, until I chose to leave. 
 
I always left before the store closed at 9:00 promptly, or when my car would begin to run out of gas. I couldn’t stay longer than business hours, because then I’d be most surely trespassing. In the other case of my car running out of gas, I absolutely despised it; but I would have to drive all of the way to the gas station just to fill up my tank. It was revolting!
Slowly but surely, I had annihilated almost all of the people in my life. I’d had friends in high school, and friends in college, and friends at work...but once they saw what I loved to do for a bit of enjoyment, they thought I was some kind of a loon. Perhaps I was this loon, but it only made me take a firmer stand in my decision to continue to go to that loving woman who would watch over me, that beautiful parking space, number 19.
Eventually, I had befriended a woman. This was shocking at first, since I thought that no woman would ever take her place - The place of number 19. Yet I’d said the vows and devoted myself to this woman, this lovely Sheila Frensch; who was as beautiful and loving a woman as my space was. 
 
I’m sure one would think that I am quite mad, or possibly insane to think of these things, these material possessions; in such a loving and intimate way, but I have heard of others who adore structures and machines, and wish also to be with them until their dying days. So, if am truly am a madman; then I know for certain that I am not alone in my madness, and I feel relieved in that fact.
I took Sheila by the hand one day, and decided to show her exactly where I’ve been the past few days, and why I haven’t spent much time with her. She obliged to sit happily in the passenger seat with me, as we drove to the parking lots of the Good And Right. 
 
She asked me where we were going, and I told her that we were indeed going to the Good and Right, which had lots of bargains of which she was looking into. Immediately, I was berated with a laundry list full of things that she needed that I didn’t know that humans actually required in their day to day lives. 
 
However, I assured her that we were not going to actually go into the store. I rarely went into any store, because there were not too many things that I felt I needed. I always felt that a man should live simple; nevertheless this woman wants to live a meaningless life of complexity, and I guess I will just have to deal with that until I am dead. Well, at least I still have my beloved...Number 19.

*
My heart stopped., and my eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.
There was a sign in front of the store, saying:
"PARKING SPACES ARE BEING RENOVATED, AS PART OF OUR REMODELING PROGRAM HERE AT GOOD AND RIGHT. WE HOPE THAT YOU WILL CONTINUE SHOPPING WITH US, WHERE EVERYTHING IS GOOD AND RIGHT." 
 
Sheila asked me what was wrong, but I could only put my head in my hands and sigh. "She was everything to me." I told her. It was like I had lost my mother, but she had already been dead for many years now. No, this was much more terrible. They did it... I couldn’t believe that anyone could do such a thing. 
 
THEY KILLED MY PRECIOUS NUMBER 19!
Sheila became angry. She hollered and threw things at me. She told me that she thought I was some kind of psycho. I still believed that it was a possibility, so I didn’t deny it. 

 
I couldn’t deny it...AND I WOULDN’T DENY IT ANYMORE!

I was completely nuts, in every sense of the word - I was a loony - a total fucking weirdo!
There was no place for me in this world anymore. There’s no place for crazies like me in civil society with it’s love of death and war, and it’s thirst for violence and bloodshed - It’s hatred of all things that are different, and it’s only embrace towards similarity.
I picked up my head. Sheila was still screaming at me, but I didn’t care about that stupid bitch anymore. Why did I even marry her? Was it all just a matter of convenience? 
 
Was I only trying to fit into the puzzle of normalcy with misshapen edges? 
 
That’s right. I was only doing these things to make myself appear normal. But, I wasn’t normal, and I'd never be. God knew it, and so did I. 
 
I've had enough - I’m sick of this shit! I’m so damned sick of it, that I could scream myself to the point of fainting. It’s time to end this horror, this charade of idiocy that I have been playing in for so long. 
 
They’ve destroyed my only place of security - The remains of number 19 have been washed over with smaller, more claustrophobic parking spaces which offer no sign of safety. I should’ve known all along. Goddamn it, why didn’t this make sense to me before? It’s ringing like a bell that I could never hear before...
The store was once a simple mom and pop shop, before it became this great corporate monster. There was an air of energy, of tranquility, of the simple fellow wanting to help out his fellow man by offering the few things that he needed for a reasonable price. There were more trees then, too. There was more solace in parking, and in smoking a cigarette with the windows rolled down while the music plays. The air itself even smelled sweeter in those days...
But, those days are all gone...and they've been replaced with capitalist "free-markets", and a complete influx of products that a man would never know that he needed at all. They ruined my space. They ruined my safety...
IT’S THEIR FUCKING FAULT!
I pushed hard on the gas. Sheila started screaming bloody murder, and was begging me to let her out of the car. But, not even that mattered to me anymore... Nothing did!
 
Can’t you see that Sheila, you bitch!? Or are you too blind by your shopping list, your makeup, and your expensive tastes in clothing?!" I hollered at her now frozen expression. 
 
"I was never good enough for you, and I’ll never be good enough for this world!" I thundered, ramming the steering wheel with my fist. " The only being that ever will be good enough for this new atrocity, is the machine. This is no longer a man’s world, and I refuse to live in it any longer.
As the car sped faster and faster towards the store, I could only think of the memories of what my mother said to me. "You’ll be safe right here." She said. "There’s no harm that’ll come to you, as long as you stay right in here, son."
I’ve never forgotten those words. 
 
But... What about now, mother? What can you tell me...now that there is no safe place to hide until you get back? 
 
That’s right. You’re never coming back. 
 
Don’t worry, mother. I’m coming to join you!
She screamed and pounded on the doors with a fervor, but they would not give way. I would not let them. I felt that she should go face first into her punishment! She might even survive, and possibly even learn something from all of this. 
 
All my cares seemed to fade away, as we both sped closer and closer to the right wall of the store. At the climax, my eyes saw death; and her screaming faded from my ears forever.
At least now, there would be peace...and safety. They say that one finds those things in death, and I hoped that they were right...
I truly hoped with all of my being, that they were right.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

2012: AGE OF AQUARIUS? (9/28/2011)

Well, I guess I'm not the only one who watched all those documentaries, who decided to get informed and who decided that the only way that greedy corporate devils were going to listen to the rest of us was to fight back against oppression. It's not an easy thing to do, as it takes guts. It takes being arrested, physically abused or (accidentally) being killed or severely harmed by law officials.

This is nothing new, ladies and gentlemen. It's something that has been with us since man first walked the earth and has continued on since The Civil Rights Movement, The Women's Liberation Movement, and hell, even the Boston Tea Party. Which was originally a protest against King George and his taxes, not the bullshit that it has become.

The Aquarian energies of 2012 are starting to fill the people of this world, first those in the Middle East, and now those here in America. The devils have made us slave to their system for far too long. They care about nothing more than to waste this planet with their Keystone Excel Pipeline, and their constant destruction of our land, water, and air with their chemicals and deforestation. Have you seen the jungles here lately? What about all the goddamned oil that's been spilled into the other bodies of water in the world? You know, besides the Gulf?

What? You thought that we were the only ones who got oil dumped in our water? That's why I don't even drink the water anymore, just like Johnny Cash predicted. I can't even drink my water, it tastes so horrid. I have to drink bottled water or have it filtered. They also say that bottled water can make people sterile, (has to do with the chemicals in some of the more expensive types of bottled water) but I could care less if I had any little ones, because this planet is such a fucked up little ball of dirt and water right now, that I wouldn't want to bring any more kids into it.

They're even planning to sack planned parenthood. You heard me right. I said, sack it. Get rid of it for good. A woman's too young for a kid? Well, she's gonna have to have it or kill it herself. What about a whore or prostitute forced into that life? That kid's gonna be a delinquent. These fucking republicans have gone far enough with their money and their bullshit. I'm not even sure how we poor people are going to pay our goddamned bills without the post office. Is a man going to come to my house and demand that I pay his bill? I'd sooner send him my fist.

This is why people are aggravated. All of these services that we took for granted are now being sacked and privatized so that only the 1% have them. They're going to cull the herd any couple of months now. People are going to have to fight to survive what may be one hell of a struggle. If you don't know what culling the herd is, go look it up please. I mean, I wasn't able to put two and two together until just recently. All of these services are going to be taken from us, because we won't be around anymore, if they have their way.

Did they realize that we were going to protest? Probably, but I think that people have to make a real effort, because this could be rather tough. I remember watching Ventura's show and seeing all of those coffins. Even if Ventura's not the best person to get information from, it still strikes me with a sense of wonder as to why they would need that many disposable coffins.

Everything we do is being monitored. Facebook is now completely open to any suit and big brother that wants to null this action by the people. I have heard that people are planning to stay in New York throughout the winter and who knows how long other strikes will last. With everyone striking, there won't be anyone working, and the economy will take a tumble. A host of my favorite program has just announced in front of everyone that he is leaving to protest against the very hand that might be feeding him. I suspect this to increase, as more people are getting sick and tired of it.

This rise in protest could result in martial law. Could? I mean, this rise in protest Will result in a greater violence among law officers and even the military intervening, as we've heard on various documentaries. I do not doubt an order is working behind the scenes to quell all of this, and by quelling it - I don't mean that everything is going to be made happy. Ironically, that old guy claims that Jesus and a meteor are headed our way in October. I'm not saying that I'm going to believe this guy who's talked about Christ's return for many years now, but I really have no idea what will happen with all of these mass American protests.

I do sense that the 70's style could come back. People will eventually be there for many months and eventually organizations and independent artists will provide entertainment for the protesters. I'm not saying hippie music, even though there are bands reverting to it these days; (I joked about a Woodstock with Opeth, Mastodon, and Porcupine Tree and Enslaved on the bill) but many songs will have lyrics dedicated to the struggle. I definitely think that with the war, debt, unemployment, and other things coming down the pike, the 70's era of mass protest could definitely come back in early 2012, if not late 2011. There won't be any peace and love hippies stuff I don't think, but I do think that a focused and more technology driven society will be at the forefront of a real cause for change.

But with the order working in the shadows and with the police and military - it might not be a virus that succumbs us, but their own weapons. Just imagine if the officers starting killing protesters. Could you even imagine such an issue? If the right person in power gives the order to kill, then the universe only knows what would happen. But I suspect riot squads to come in first to disperse people. I don't know what's going to happen, but I know that if this lasts for too long, something's going to be done. The thing is, they plan to make it last that long. As I have reiterated, I've been told by external media that this protest could last through winter.

Plus, there's the fact that Chicago, Los Angeles, and several other (US DAY OF RAGE IN NASHVILLE ON OCT. 6) protests are occurring all over the country as I stated before with my words "mass American protests" so things may really go the way as I've been saying. Even people who have jobs are protesting and you don't just say "Hey boss, I'm going to protest your corporation, can I get a week off?" No, you walk the hell off. If too many people do that, places will shut down.

The bottom line is this: If the Age Of Aquarius is 2012, then it's going to be one hell of a year.

I'll end with this question: Are you planning to protest?





Tuesday, May 15, 2012

HEH, HEH, HEH… HAWKING AND HIS PUNY THEORIES… GIVE ME A BREAK. (8/7/2011)

So Mr. Hawking arrogantly believes that there is no source of creation in this universe, as if everything spontaneously came together, like something out of nothing. This is almost laughable, if you watched the program “Curiosity” which was specially simulcast on several different stations last night, unless you were too busy watching Fox’s “Teen Choice Awards.” (Smooth move, Fox… real smooth - diverting the attention of the youth the things that really matter, and filling their minds with more garbage that won’t ever matter.)

Hawking might as well have said in his explanation of black holes being total time stoppers, that a blue plastic ball could be formed from a solid wood table for no apparent reason. How exactly can something with no time, form time? If nothing can resist the time stopping pull of a black hole, then how can time form from it? This is extremely hilarious. I spit on this man’s theories, regardless of how intelligent people think he is. Let us face facts, that Mr. Hawking is nothing more than a sad man in a wheelchair. Perhaps he will find the hope and answers he seeks in the metaphysical realms that exist beyond this life, even though he said that they “probably” don’t exist. Meaning he has not one shred or speck of information regarding their existence, and cannot deny them. Yet I’ve seen the despair in this man’s face. It’s clear as the eye can see, and deep inside he wants to believe in these things. Look at the man’s face and tell me that I am wrong. The eyes have it, ladies and gentlemen.

During the debate, another question arose - one which I thought was quite interesting, myself. Does the cosmic “creator” god have anything to do with people’s personal god/s? Well, to put this simple, I still believe that it does not. Furthermore, I will believe as I always have; that the multiverse is both a chaotic and balanced system (note the polar opposites being both true) which in truth, comprises all existence and therefore IS GOD. (If you’d like to call it that) Everything that ever was and will be is the multiverse, comprising God, and we are also a part of that energy that even comprises the astral and metaphysical spiritual planes, as well as planes where forms that we have no comprehension of (and therefore could not comprehend) would exist.

If there are billions of universes, and ours is just one, like Dr. Kaku said “on a backwash planet deep in the solar system” then it is almost ludicrous to think that we would have the technology to map out the entire span of cosmic existence. This is like a man telling you that he can tell you what an object looks like, even if he hadn’t ever seen it before, and will never see it in his lifetime.

Let me also throw in some other ideas about this, while breaching onto the “alien invasion topic” of the second episode. Oh, I’m sorry, “Alien Attack” because we’re all too busy with Hollywood films to not realize a peaceful race completely devoid of our warring human emotions could ever exist. Some of these people I just want to beat the shit out of myself, because it will shut them all up, and perhaps destroying the ideas of an alien invasion that could kill us all, might instill feelings of “I wonder what it would be like if some beings from somewhere else in the universe/multiverse could show us their ways, maybe help out planet out, stop the greedy corporations and governments in ways that we are powerless to. That’s the kind of thinking we need. If we have another more advanced race on the side of the victims, then the corporations will have no use to but to listen and comply with the needs of the people. Hell, if it came down to where the other race allowed those of us who didn’t wish to ruin the planet, to live on their world, and be peaceful where there wasn’t a such thing as war, and where they’ve just grown out of money and ways of killing each other - I’d do it in a heartbeat.

Some people have theories of aliens who come down as good aliens, and then are bad aliens who enslave us later, but again - this is Hollywood talking. If there was a race that wanted slaves so bad, they’d have them already. Perhaps our planet is more warlike than any other planet out there in this universe. Perhaps the fact that we can’t get to any of these “gas planets” is because they’re clouded from us by a sort of shield which we’ve no scientific means of penetrating - and they don’t want to be bothered either.

Still, maybe there are planets out there that are completely cloaked (invisible) to our sights, and we’ll never find them. It’s all very possible. Maybe we did some very awful things when our race was on other worlds, and those worlds don’t want to fuck with us. Perhaps this blue world is our “planet free to fuck up” and they are waiting for us to annihilate ourselves so that when we’re gone, the rest of the universe can come out of hiding and prosper again.

In my dealings with magick, and I’ve had many of them - I’m quite sure that many of the things we call gods, demons, and angels, are actually other beings not of this plane, or aliens. Would you be that upset if the beautiful goddess you prayed to as a Wiccan, was actually just a very advanced and intelligent being sent here by a council of others to guide you? Perhaps we all have alien guides, who laugh at our ideas of space ships and lasers. Would it literally kill you to know that the God you worship and the form you see in your head is actually the form you chose for your protector? I’m sure there’s many forms for them, and they might not even have a form at all - besides, the most intelligent, advanced, and peaceful races would require no form at all other than that of energy.

So what if we praise aliens? Perhaps they are our gods after all, and they really want the best for us in our lives. Whether you see Christ, Buddha, Mohammed, or some pagan god/goddess, these could be just forms that the aliens take in order to comfort us, the miracles, results of incantations, and other phenomena could just be the result of their power. Perhaps this stuff really does exist, and every God is real after all.

It’s all based on your perspective. There’s no scientific knowledge on any of this, and there can’t be, because only when other races (who I STRONGLY believe are on this planet right now) decide to show themselves, will science be able to clarify all of this.

Still, take in the fact that you, like them, are a child race of the divine; and eventually you too will become something like those that help you

(or those that choose to harm you, as we call demons yet some demons also seem to be gods for some people, so I have no idea how you classify the morality out of all this, as there is also the thought to form belief that believing in something enough gives it the thought energy to give it life being that all of the power of existence flows through us and can create miracles as well, even our own Gods, if that be your desire. Belief is truly powerful in that extent)

And you will be able to guide other young races through the enjoyment of life. The bottom line is this:

Enjoy life, and do/believe/say what makes you happy. People will come along with their ideas and views, but all in all, none of us knows the truth of all things, and I strongly believe that we will never know. We must just exist and be, and live and love and hate, and endure, and create, and challenge, and learn more throughout each and every moment of existence, whether this be our first life, or our thousandth. This is what it means to be human, on a backwash planet that’s deep in the universe, which is one of just only countless, endless multiverses in the constant span of all existence.

Namaste.

The Corporate Puppet

There once was a man who thought that the world would bow to
his every beck and call, and he did all in his power to make sure that
everything revolved according to his own designations.
But these weren’t actually his own designations.
Why, of course not!
No, these were ideas that came into his head through means of
the corporation, who washed and dried his brain with such
ridiculous rules and regulations.
He worked his way up the ladder and became a manager, but
unlike the man who had left the store earlier; a man who had good
intentions and wanted what was best for the store and it's
employees, this man wondered if he could - by means of corporate
dogma, of course - transform the store and it's employees into
mindless robots without souls.
In such a struggling economy such as this one, the man decided
that it would be best to think of people (as he was programmed) as
numbers and machine cogs. You weren't a human being and your
cares were not taken into consideration. A fa├žade was put into place,
masking the man's true nature of 0's and 1's, just like the
programming data that was fed into him by the corporation
executives.
Why not threaten jobs? It seemed like such an easy thing to do, in
such a poverty and crime-ridden city like the one in which the store
sat. People are useless and replaceable, but machines will do
everything without question.
Soon enough the flesh will all be replaced by workers who will
never cease, to make sure that the transport and sale of worthless,
resource depriving products goes along smoothly until the end of
time, or in this case - until the resources are completely depleted,
while the demand continues to grow.
This is due to the fact that the corporation has a system of
media, which tells the human worms through all manner of
communication, what they need to attain in their life. But lo and
behold, that enlightenment is the very furthest of those things!
One must have a wonderful vehicle, expensive clothes, and a
house that resembles a great mansion! Life is to be full of parties,
alcohol and drugs! One is to fill one's loins with the fluids of sexual
excitement from many other human worms who should strive for
the same merit. Children are to form from these quick situations,
spurred by sexual images in the media and the chemicals in the food
that enhances the hormones in teens and young adults - and these
children are to be the future consumers, that will keep the
corporation growing, until there is nothing left to profit from.
This is what the celebrities will show them. This is what the
corporations will tell them, and their ears and eyes are everywhere.
There is no way to escape from the system, other than to
dehumanize oneself from humanity completely. But few will do
that. One would be looked upon as an outcast and spat upon for
such a crime. Nobody wanted the derogative vagrant title.
The man knew all of this, and he used it to his advantage. "Since
they are all but pawns, I can replace all of them at will, and without
warning. If I don't like the way that a pawn is placed, I will simply
replace it. Because I... am the king."
He noticed from past records that the last man who was in his
seat only ordered enough products for the small store, and sales
went well in that period. The stock room was clear of unsold junk,
and everything seemed to function much better.
"But this is Monopoly, he thought. I've got plenty of money to
order all of the products that I can possibly order. Perhaps people
will buy them, but perhaps they won't. Maybe I should just go ahead
and order extra, just in case."
Despite it being the start of spring, and the fact that tractors
certainly sold in this season; the man felt that it was necessary that
he order as many as he possibly could order. 19, 12, and even 14
tractors came from the trucks, even though 20 of the rusting
machines had already sat, unsold. They also constantly broke down,
but that was the result of poor manufacturing, which was another
trusted business practice of the corporation.
"Bird feeders? Why not?" The man exclaimed, even though the
objects would sit and collect dust.
"Why don't I just take the best stock room workers and have
them work on the sales floor?" he mused, stroking his small chin
hairs. "This way it would be almost certain that I'd have a bunch of
horrible workers back there, but then I'll just keep firing them until I
can find perfect workers, perfect machines."
Soon enough, he knew that the machines would come and that
they would replace the workers. But the machines came with a price,
and one that he hadn't bargained on.
Walking through that door just a few years after the machines had
taken over completely, was a different sort of machine. But this
machine only said one word...
"I am here to replace you."
The man knew then and quickly, that he had made a sudden
error, a grave error. Taking the humanity out of the marketplace
made it both cold and unfeeling. It made it a habitable place for only
those things who were also, both cold and unfeeling.
When the man walked out the doors of the building that he so
wanted to control, he found that there were no more humans to live
in this mechanized world. The resources had gone dry and the air
was inhabitable.
He gasped for air, as he choked... As he choked to death, in a
world where humans were no longer needed. Just another corporate
puppet writhing in pain, after the strings had finally been cut.


END

Who’s Raising Your Children, America? You Might Be Surprised.

Let me tell you something. I’ve been researching a lot of information here lately, and I’ve still got reason to believe that the Illuminati, Matrix, and New World Order are still indeed breathing on our coat-tails. (By the way, “matrix” in this state refers to the agents of “the matrix” which has nothing to do with the movie, and much more to do with making people into corporate slaves. Go research it.)

When I got up this morning, I had found that my neighbor’s children came over to visit. Unsatisfied  with a collection of movies I had saved in the DVR for them related to their age group, my mother gave the girl a chance to choose her own show, to which she switched to Nickelodeon. No big deal, I thought at first. I remember many fond memories of Nickelodeon, and how it used to have family friendly characters and some actually comical programs when I was young.

But what I saw was much different, and it made me think it was actually the Disney channel, with it’s pop and systematic influences which pervert our youth (mind control experiments have also been said to go on with ALL of it’s stars, including Miley Cyrus, who bomb shelled as Hannah Montana, and The Jonas Brothers for example - again, go look it up.) Disney is in the business of corrupting our youth, one young mind at a time.

Now, realizing that Viacom (The same company that controls the hogwash on MTV) also controls Nickelodeon,  I had only assumed it would only be a matter of time before Nickelodeon would also become a perverted step ladder to the insurmountable trash that can be found on MTV, VH1 and others.

Let it be known that the ages of these girls was 6 and 7, which is not the age that a child should be watching such programs of this caliber, and be advised grandparents who remember, and parents who grew up with the Disney channel and Nickelodeon; that these stations are not what you remember them to be, as one can barely find cartoons themselves anymore, without them even being a little over the top on Cartooon Network. Most of these programs seem to be teen-aged sitcoms which aren’t on at nightly hours like they should be (I remember SNICK when I was about 9 - 12)  but they are rather put on slap in the middle of the day.

Since only 5 corporations control all media in the country (again, look it up) it doesn’t seem too out of place for Disney and Nickelodeon together to pollute our children, as well as MTV and others. With our job market plummeting in this country, many parents just don’t have the time to watch their children anymore, and most babysitters don’t care of realize that the things that children are seeing on the television or internet are destroying their minds. There’s even that awful internet celebrity “Fred” who became a star on television because the network saw his potential to make money.

Corporatism knows no bounds, and it is only interested in teaching our children these few things: Go buy our products, get into a relationship as early as you can because they’re fun, and listen to our music created specifically for you. Once you’ve heard the pop we’ve made for you, you’ll continue to support the artists once they’ve grown and produced the same music in a more adult fashion, because you’ve been already brainwashed to enjoy it.

The reason why relationships are being pushed on our children is due to the fact that couples have children, which creates more people to buy more products. The earlier two people become attached, the better. 16 and Pregnant already? We’ve got a show for you. Teen Mother? We’ve got a show for you. What about men that want to go out there and have sex with multiple women showing off their muscles and money? Watch Jersey Shore, it’ll tell you how to do things like that. There are hot sluts everywhere!

Does this scare you? Because this IS the ladder. This is what our children are being exposed to at young ages. When I was 6, I was thankfully taught that women had “cooties” and to stay away from them. “cooties” was an excellent way to keep children as still children, and we should continue to use methods like this to protect our offspring. Children who delve into the net and television don’t get enough time to develop an imagination through play, and even the strictest parents can’t stop all media influence because of peers at school, and kids and technology use these days is ridiculous.

I do not believe that children as young as 6 should be on the internet for any reason. NONE! I believe that they should be taught how to use a computer eventually, but after their brain has fully developed in a way that it can discern things with a greater accuracy. There are great software games out there for children to learn offline though, and I feel parents should use these. I would even say that 90% of the games of this age are completely not fit for children and I respect the ESRB ratings scale. It is there for a reason, and games are much more violent and emotional in this age than they’ve ever been. I grew up in the age of Nintendo, where it was no big deal, but now things can really leave their mark on a child.

We must realize that the system realizes that they can leave their imprint on the children. We must realize that they only want your youth to serve them in the same ways that we have grown accustomed to. Poor education, and poor moral standings (and you don’t need religion to teach a child morals) will lead to a delinquent piece of trash, that never knew any better, or a workaholic that was taught that way.

You have to have a job to have money, and you have to have money to support yourself and buy the next systematic luxury which is like a new form of crack every month. Online gaming has sparked just much as this with MMO’s controlling a great deal of the population who aren’t sucked into casual facebook games. There are MMO games already for young children, and it’s nothing more than a gateway drug to hardcore MMO’s that cost money and hours of life, as well as marriages.

But let’s put all of this into perspective. The television, internet, and video games are the babysitters of youth. Parents are sometimes too busy and leave their children in the care of these systems. But they don’t realize that these systems are literally CARING for their children, and they ARE influencing their behaviors, you’d better believe it and not think for a second that they aren’t.

So how do you combat this?

Summer = Summer Camp. No TV, and plenty of chances to go outside and play. Trust me, I did when I was a kid, and it was very exciting. I used to always pretend I was things in recess and in summer camp, and almost took it to a belief status with extremism, but that’s the kind of person I was. I’ve gotten so lost in my imagination that I literally used to believe I was the things I believed I was. Now being a grown man, I have realized that this is just the power of one’s imagination, which can help one to go out there and do something creative, original, and unique. Maybe they’ll pursue something more than a 9 - 5, even if it sounds damn near impossible in this age of the crumbling American Empire.

Summer camps also allow children to play outside with other children who normally wouldn’t be outside to imagine, they would be inside living in someone else’s world.

But other than taking your kids to summer camp, it might even be a good idea to limit the time they spend with the machines of this age. I’m serious about this. Eventually, they’ll be let off the hook when they’re older and will either go all the way, or not at all with these devices. You can’t really stop that, but at least they had a chance to develop an imagination.

Buy toys. Nothing electronic, just plastic toys dolls and action figures (whatever your kid may prefer these days) and definitely some kind of Legos, or an erector set, even though Legos are becoming more media hogwash and less generic “castle and space” sets which allowed the children to make up their own stories. Let me tell you something, I’m 26 and I would still build things with Legos.

Stay the hell away from Megabloks, because they’ve sponsored with World Of Warcraft to make fucking WOW Megablok sets. Just what your children need. Incentive to play a game that’ll cost the hell out of your paycheck every month, because some parents may not know that playing this game is like paying a monthly satellite bill. It starts out free until you reach a certain point in the game (and it’s now longer than ever, like a longer drug hit to get more people to try it) and then you literally have to keep paying money in order to keep playing the game. You cannot just pay 60.00 for the game and that’s it.

You’ll pay probably over a hundred dollars a year to keep your child’s account active. It’s like cigarettes, huh? So no Megabloks, alright? Of course these days, all the franchises have bought the toy market, with nothing free of the media’s grasp. I guess if you want generic, go dollar store…but not even that works anymore. The thrift stores even sell toys from old franchises, nothing generic. Of course, it’s not bad to buy different action figures from different franchises, or different dolls from different franchises either. This will give the children that “WHAT IF?” incentive that will have their synapses firing while they are playing with the toys.

For boys, an example:

What if Spiderman fought Darth Vader?

What if Captain Jack Sparrow landed his ship in the middle of a battle between the X Men and Apocalypse?

These are the things that get kids thinking. They got me thinking about things in my youth which got me into thinking about things in my later years and led to my eventual becoming of an American author.

Don’t forget about the fun of climbing trees and building forts, and playing swordfights with tree limbs. The woods are lots of fun when you’re young! The same thing with snow days, go outside and make a snow sculpture and some forts and throw snowballs! Don’t stay stuck in the damned house!

Some children are blessed with the want to read. Please encourage this, I beg of you. But be careful again with what is read these days, as the media is looking to capitalize on franchises, many publishing companies are actually taking on the notion to find writers who wish to write stories in the same vein of popular tales like Twilight and Harry Potter.

Reading any kind of book is great,  but be very careful with books these days, as they can be just as bad as T.V. and I hate to say it. If you can, get some of the old books into their hands. Through The Looking Glass, The Wizard Of Oz, Charlie and The Chocolate Factory, Matilda, Lewis Carroll (who has a great deal of wonderful reading) and of course, Tolkien. There are of course many others, but I doubt too many young ones could handle Dickens or Mary Shelley. Frankenstein bored me to tears in my youth.

But children who read, will succeed. Not just in school, but in everything else. Reading is so incredibly important these days, that it should be a capital offense to allow a child to be illiterate, unless a health problem like Dyslexia or other condition says otherwise, of course. But it is even possible in these states to read, as I’ve a friend with Dyslexia that can read quite decently and is more observant of things than I am!

So there is no reason why we should let our children follow the ladder to the corporate hells on earth that are. There is no reason why we should let the media dictate to children the ways in which they should behave, and the things that they should want. Whimsical cartoon characters in advertisements are nothing more than ploys used by agents of the matrix (again, look it up please - this has nothing to do with the Keanu Reeves film) to get our kids to want toxic cereals and happy meals that are full of metals. (Lots of mercury in most brand named food)

Even if their goal is to corrupt and pervert every last young mind in this world so that they will be desensitized, oblivious, and ignorant to all of the things that will happen to this planet in the future, if we can save just a few minds - it will all be worth it.

Of course, I will also mention that a little T.V. is fine - and there are plenty of classic children’s movies out there as well as good ones coming out now. You don’t have to shield your child completely from all this stuff, and even if you do - they’ll just go somewhere else and do it.

The last thing I have to say is this:

If able, please spend as much time as possible with your children. Children that don’t have parental supports will find them elsewhere. You might be shocked to find that these so called “harmless devices” are actually raising your children for you… and they are being raised into the most horrifying things possible too, servants and slaves to the great corporate, media fueled, machine.

Friday, May 11, 2012

To Further Your Learning

The track played in the video was done by an anti-illuminati artist by the name of Chris Geo. He and several other talented rappers and artists have twisted popular songs and thrown an anti-illuminati slant on them. As far as rappers go, Chris has a good flow and his lyrics are pretty straight.

Enough talk, if you like rap music (or even if you don't) check this disc out:

http://truthfrequencyradio.com/chris-geo-global-resistance/

Doesn't Get Any More Blatant Than This.


Watch this video now. Then tell me what you think about the Illuminati, Monarch Mind Control, Masonic Rituals and the whole nine yards. As an author, my stories tend to preach against these atrocities. I do not believe in magic as an evil thing, or the occult itself as evil. However, these energies are for use of everyone and can be manipulated for evil, just as pure water can be tainted and become poison.

If this is the world they want, I want no part in it.


A Speck Of Dirt

Dedicated To Ms. Inga Lamb

The speck of dirt that came off on your shoes this morning, or last night, or maybe even the day before that, actually has quite a story. Once that speck of dirt was carried on the boots of a man who had been hunting for furs, and once it was used to make an old fashioned mud pie by the hands of a little girl that was trying to show her affection towards a little boy, several years ago.

Perhaps that speck of dirt didn't start out as a speck of dirt at all. Maybe it was once part of a mud hut that an Indian tribe had lived in, or maybe it was the very dirt that rested on the edges of the Pyramids, put there by the feet of the workers that had worked so effortlessly to build them.
Maybe it was used for an ancient burial back in primordial times, or perhaps it was traversed by soldiers in the muddy bunkers of the first world war. It might have even been part of a ball of dirt that one lover threw to the other, in order to get her attention. It's true that just one speck of dirt could've been many things, indeed.
It is very true that the speck of dirt you carried in on your shoes could've once been used by a medicine man to cure a wound, or it could have been brushed off of a brave knight's sword as he dove it into the heart of a barbarian.
It could've even been from under the tree where the Buddha meditated, or perhaps it was the dirt under which Jesus spoke his parables. Yes, the dirt under your feet is always sacred; even if you don't realize it.
Maybe it was once in Italy, where Donatello brushed it off his painting. It could've even been the dirt from Leonardo's endless tinkering. Perhaps it was once stuck to the wings of the Wright Brother's prototype of a plane, but it may have also been stuck to the tires of a Model T. There's so many places where a speck of dirt can be. Can't you see?

You know, it's quite possible that it could've accidentally flown into one of Marilyn Monroe's drinks. It could've even fell into a river that drifted right into Tennessee.
It might have went into the nose of an outlaw who met the ground, it might have even been carried by the horses of the toughest sheriff in town.

Poe might have brushed it off one of his early manuscripts, but Shakespeare could've even shook it off his quill. It's even possible that the constitution once shared that speck of dirt, or even the dead sea scrolls. There are so many places that people go, and the dirt always follows.

Just in case you were under the assumption that a speck of dirt is insignificant, look at all of the people who've shared their lives with it. It was there before you were born, and it will still be there when you die.
So yes it is true, that the dirt on your shoes which you brought in today, tomorrow, or even the day before, has the most profound history, unlike you've never known before.

END

Thursday, May 10, 2012

The Man Who Wanted To Be Peanut Butter

Dedicated to Ms. Inga Lamb

Charles Hoffler was an odd sort of man, in the fact that he thought about the world in a much different way than others. First, there was his notion that the Sun was actually made of Limburger, and that the mold created on it over several millions of years began to give off an insurmountable amount of heat, which in turn made it glow. The reason that no one ever had to worry about the awful smell of the sun, was because it was so far away from the planet Earth.
It might sound strange, but these were the sorts of things that Mr. Hoffler thought about. But the most bizarre idea that ever plopped itself into that region right below his ever-receding hairline, was one of utter ridiculousness. Even the looniest of the loonies in the bin wouldn't have dreamed of the sheer foolishness that poked around in his noggin...
Charles Hoffler wanted to be peanut butter. How? Why?
Well, those are the same kinds of questions that any sound thinking individual might ask themselves upon having heard such an obtuse thing; but in Hoffler's mind, it made perfect sense.
"I should like to be a fine sandwich spread." He thought to himself, as he walked along one of London's busier avenues.
"There'd be plenty of me to go around, plenty of me to make sure that every child gets a sandwich."
"But how do you make a man into peanut butter?" He thought. "How do you grind his bones and flesh and organs into a fashion that might allow him to be readily consumed by the masses?"
It was a certainly odd question, but one that he thought deserved an answer.
His neighbours thought he was crazy, but he held such an upstanding position at a factory that produces peanut butter, that they thought that the "nuts must've just gone right to his head."
The reverend at his church also thought him rather nutty, as nutty as any jar of peanut butter that he's ever spread upon a sandwich. Of course, the old reverend's teeth had long been gone, and his tongue didn't care much for the taste of peanut butter. It made him feel old, which he was; and didn't quite want to be reminded of it.
But that didn't stop Mr. Hoffler from coming into the church with a jar of peanut butter and asking the reverend to help him with his absurd request.
"Surely God can help me." He'd say to the reverend. "Surely, God can help me become what I was always meant to be; a spread of peanut butter."
"But you've got such a wonderful job, in a factory that's still producing plenty of peanut butter everyday. Why do you think that people would actually eat peanut butter that was made from a human being?" The reverend asked, but for the life of him; he wasn't even sure why he had asked such a question.
"Because I've got a rather fine taste." The man replied. But it was most certainly true, as he daily licked his fingers and toes, and sometimes even his arms and legs. He rather thought that he was delicious, and thought that other people might like the taste of him just as much as he did.
Yes, he thought about it daily, as he watched the people go by in their automobiles and along the trolley.
"I would want nothing more than to be mixed into a fine paste of ground nuts and placed into jars, where people could open me and spread me upon their bread and biscuits." He thought once again to himself, as he walked into the factory.
The guard greeted him as he put on his usual work suit, which slid on directly over his clothes. But today wasn't going to be just another day at the London peanut butter factory. Yes, today was going to be the day that he became the peanut butter.
"It's been too long since people have had the chance to eat something as delicious as I would be." He thought. "There's been far too many days where I've seen their poor eyes and lips water in the anticipation of my deliciousness."
His courage got stronger and stronger as he walked closer and closer to the factory's peanut grinder.
"Sir? What are you doing?" Another worker asked, as Charles began to place himself directly upon the conveyor belt that fed into the grinder.
"Sir? Sir? Have you lost your mind?" The worker hollered, not sure what to do.
"Yes, we've got a 122!" He shouted over his walkie-talkie. "There is a man on the conveyor belt!" The gentleman was screaming in sheer panic. "This bloke's trying to kill himself!"
"Kill?" Thought Charles. "I'm going to be peanut butter!"
All of the workers at the peanut butter factory attempted to pull Mr. Hoffler off of the conveyor belt, but it was to no avail. He was simply too large, and just a few seconds from being ground up along with the rest of the nuts.
It wasn't but a mere few seconds later, before he fell into the vat where the peanuts were ground and mixed. The crew could do nothing but watch helplessly as a man ended his own life, right there in the factory.
Yes, it was true that they sobbed and mourned for Mr. Hoffler. The factory closed down early that day, as workers went home and thought about the odd man who wished to be ground up into peanut butter. Some of them even couldn't sleep that night.
But regardless of all that, they knew that a factory worker's job was to keep working, and they all came back to work the next day.
But on this day, things were different.
Yes, they were much different!
The guard had a wide smile on his face and greeted each every person into the factory with a smile. The factory itself even had the most wonderful smell, and it smelled so delicious that the workers didn't even seem to mind doing their jobs today.
"What could it have been?" They thought. "Why would things be so much better today, after a man lost his life?"
"It's the peanut butter." Another factory worker said. "Have you tasted it as of late? It smells wonderful!"
"I'm sure there's nothing different about it." Another worker said. "But I'll give it a shot and put a finger into this jar."
Immediately, when he put that finger dipped in peanut butter into his mouth, he was overblown with sensation! His eyes watered and his teeth chattered, for they'd never had something that was quite so scrumptious as long as they've shared space on his body!
"It's glorious." He said. "This is by far the best thing that I've ever tasted.
"You think it's..." Another worker said, but covered her mouth quickly with her hand.
"That fellow might have been odd, but perhaps he was right." The worker replied, putting another finger full of peanut butter into his mouth. "Maybe his only mission in life was to become peanut butter..."

And from that day forward, (or at least until they ran out of their special brand of peanut butter) the company made more money than they had ever seen from their sales of peanut butter. It was said that people literally fought over it, the taste was so divine.
Apparently, the special peanut butter was so good that other countries wanted some jars for their own sampling, which sparked great tensions between nations, and eventually became the "Peanut Butter Wars."
Supposedly, millions of people died all on account of peanut butter, but if you believe that and this story at all; then I've got a right nice mansion out in the Antarctic that I can sell you.

END

Thursday, May 3, 2012


THE HUNGER GAMES - MY THOUGHTS

(Originally taken from a response on The Vigilant Citizen forums)

I just walked out of the theater. When I went in, there were posters for the film stamped all over the walls en masse, and a small little table that almost seemed ritualistic. The table had a movie poster for the film, and a circle of roses on top of it. Very odd..., indeed. Even though other movies were playing, the theater definitely wanted you to know that The Hunger Games was playing.

First of all, I rather enjoyed this movie. I didn't find it as entertainment though, like everything I found it to be an observation of what are planet might be like hundreds or thousands of years from now. There are major spoilers here, so if you don't want to know - don't read this post. But I think you should know them anyway.

The movies sent in from the capitol shows images of what happened in the world before, and from the look of it, some kind of rebellion against the government or an induced nuclear holocaust (hence the suits worn by the the two soldiers in the film.) Of course, the capital says that these things were "horrible" and that slavery under their elite rule is PEACE. I almost began to laugh.

The acting in the film was superb, and I'd assume that you probably didn't watch the film, if you've called it crap. Katniss dispalyed the role of a strong woman, instead of a strong male character. She was raised by the woods and the wild, and those things kept her safe. Something Collins might be trying to tell us, even though we're quick to assume she's in the illuminati. Even if she was one of the bloodlines, that does not mean that she HAS to follow their rules. What they don't know or realize won't hurt them. They are human and infallible, and this is what you people fail to realize. This is the point of the film. At the end of the film, where Snow begins to seem worried, it is because he has realized that someone has defied to change his rules and law. This is something that anyone of us can do RIGHT NOW, instead of complaining about how we're all fucked because they're wealthy bastards with a military. You would be quite surprised what real rebellion could achieve.

Let me tell you, it starts with crushing Hollywood. Think about it, Hollywood and it's actors, it's films, have too much spotlight in the world today. Think about what would happen if the masses who worried about these actors and actresses actually decided to say, "You know what? These are just people. They're just people with money. That's it. They're distractions, illusions." Once the stars have been realized as human and taken off their pedastal, then you've got the big guys with their own looks of distress. Real people, not fictional characters. Real people that can bleed and die. People that are the same as every one of us.

If they start some sort of global catastrophe, the messages in this film will ring true in that post apocalyptic world. Learn how to hunt and to fish. Learn how to build a fire, to climb trees, to use nature to your advantage. It's the only thing that they can't control. They can even turn people against each other in the name of some crusade or glorious tournament (that they call a pageant, hehe.) If you were too worried about the love story in this movie, you've missed the whole point. The most inportant part of it was Disctrict 11's rebellion. They stood up to them, cause a panic. Even though they brought more troops in, it's not the end of 11. 10 also rebelled apparently, according to the film.

The elite might think that they can encage all of us, but the fucking peasants will revolt. Kings have been beheaded in the past due to revolt, and what makes them think that they are so safe in today's times?

Surely you people understood the significance of the Mockingjay. The birds represent freedom. They chirp happily, in the most serene sense. The symbol of Katniss's chest represents an ideal, the ideal that "I will be free, just like a Mockingjay." This is also why the woman gave her this emblem. It represents to the people, "we will be free." That's why it's the symbol of the film itself. This film is not about just excitement or love, it's about the fact that even if they think that they can hold us down, they cannot succeed forever, unless everyone is made braindead.

We are human, just like they. Not one of us is any smarter or less ingenious then the other. I could see if we were facing extra-terestrial beings with increased abilities or thought processes, but they think on our level. They can hide behind technology all that they want. It is fallible, and prone malfunction and destruction by those who can "think around it."

This is why I enjoyed the film, and will be reading the rest of the books to see if I am right about most of my hypotheses towards the further chapters in the series. I knew that when the "star-crossed" lovers idea was suggested by the "mentor" (who had the film's best performance apart from the president) character, that eventually when it came to both of them, the rules would change back to 1. I saw that coming a mile away. Of course I saw that they weren't going to kill each other, everyone knew that. The berries I hadn't guessed. I thought that the elite were going to send troops to force them to kill each other, but they would find the strength to overpower them and head to the capital somehow. This would've been the end if I had written the book. No second and third novel, just one book.

But I have my own work to do based around the same idea of a post apocalyptic society under government rule (except the conditions in my world reflect a planet facing ecological depletion.) It's an idea I've been tossing around since writing the second WD novel, and before I even heard a word about The Hunger Games.

"The First Day Of The End Of The World Pt.1" (2014) is the title and tentative date for that.