Is Bill Gates Being “Thrown Under the Bus”?

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ANYONE WHO BELIEVES that what they read in the mainstream media (and even in a number of so-called “alternative” media outlets which function as controlled opposition) has not been fed to them by intelligence networks tied to the power-elite is living in cloud-cuckoo land. To believe in “a free press” is the height of delusional thinking. Consider this quotation: “You could get a journalist cheaper than a good call girl, for a couple hundred dollars a month”. (For those who don’t know the phrase, a “call-girl” is a prostitute). Now that comes from the mouth of a CIA operative in discussion with Philip Graham, former owner of the Washington Post and husband of Katherine Graham, about the availability and prices of journalists who were willing to peddle intelligence network propaganda and cover stories in the mainstream media. You don’t hear that being said in the film called “The Post”! But it is revealed on p.131 in the book “Katherine the Great: Katherine Graham and Her Washington Post Empire,” by Deborah Davis (Acacia Press, 1991). The mainstream media (and those “alternative” media which are merely controlled opposition) is simply a mouthpiece for government and power-elite propaganda, soaked up by a population dumbed-down by decades of TV hype, media lies, government disinformation, and programmed education.

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The Beauty in Ugliness

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WHEN WE ARE CONFRONTED with what is regarded as ‘ugliness’, our first instinct is to recoil or flee. I realise that the concept of ugliness — the judgement about what is ugly and what is not — can vary from one culture to another. An African Mursi tribeswoman with a huge ceramic or wooden lip-plate would be seen as utterly gorgeous within her own tribe but regarded with some horror if she were a consort in a gentlemen’s club in Knightsbridge, London. But as my years have gone by, I’ve discovered that if I look at something which is commonly regarded as ‘ugly’ for long enough, or look into its full credentials, it somehow begins to take on a unique kind of beauty even in the midst of the ugliness.

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The Trust of Birds

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THERE’S NOT MUCH THAT I REQUIRE IN LIFE. Don’t need a fancy car. Don’t need a big bank balance. Don’t need any friends (though a handful of genuine trustworthy bosom-buddies is always cool). Don’t even need a wyfe (though a sane, sorted, “partner-in-cryme” would be helpful, though not essential 😉). Don’t need anything much really. An honest guitar (currently a no-bling Boucher) and a reliable laptop (currently a solid Surface Book 2) are all I kindof “need”. But one thing that I have ALWAYS wanted but which has ALWAYS eluded me is the trust of wild birds.

I’ve made friends with all sorts of wild creatures in my time —jumping spiders, wild horses, squirrels, certain women(!), a savage dog which no one else could tame, and many more — but no matter how much I try and reassure birds, they always retain their ferality and keep their distance. (NB: I’m not talking about pigeons in the park or budgerigars in the living-room!) If I work hard on it, I can sometimes get the distance to become less. But there is always some distance. I plead with them and offer them references testifying to my peaceful nature and repugnance towards Thrush Pâté (which I was once offered in a French restaurant near Perpignan!). But all to no avail. I reluctantly have to accept that I am no Francis of Assisi! 😢

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The Illusion of Being ‘in Love’

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This is going to raise a few eyebrows, or even set the house on fire! But here it is anyway… I no longer believe that merely “being in love” is a basis for any kind of serious, lasting, intimate relationship, despite the fact that to most people it seems otherwise. It has become increasingly clearer to me, especially in more recent years, that what we refer to as the experience of “being in love” (manifested so kitschly and predictably in “rom-com” movies and romantic novels) is largely based on purely chemical processes such as pheromones and hormones (which obviously play a key role in the necessary perpetuation of the species), coupled with any mutual needs of the moment (e.g., escaping from boredom or getting out of a dying/dead relationship, etc.), the state of superficial infatuation, possessing a bunch of neurotic inadequacies, trauma-bypassing and wishful thinking (which I will develop below). Those who are playing at being “in love” are, in fact, using each other to counteract a deep sense of loneliness, to counteract inner inadequacies and to justify hormonal secretions.

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To Whom Do You Bow Your Knee?

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LIVING ROOM VIDEO #77: “To Whom Do You Bow Your Knee?” This new song, written last night, asks that simple question. For everybody serves someone (or maybe even someTHING). And if you say, “I serve no one and nothing”, then you most likely serve yourself (which is someone). 🙂 Everybody serves someone. Who you serve will determine not only your way of life and relationships, but it can even have far-reaching consequences well beyond this present realm. This song would be cool with some banjo and fiddle, upright-bass, and a bit of subtle percussion in a concert or in the studio. But here it’s just me and my unplugged acoustic guitar. For those who like to know these things, the guitar is in Dsus4 tuning (DGDGCD). Here are the lyrics:

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For Those Who Refuse to Study…

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Announcing a New Social Media Feature!

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True Colours Are Being Shown

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IN TIMES SUCH AS THESE, the true colours of everything and everyone are being starkly revealed. To put it another way, the filth that can no longer be hidden by the conditioned masks and disguises we have worn all our lives — as they must drop because the fear of death strips us of all artifice — comes streaming out like sewage from a broken wastepipe. True colours are being shown.

The mask of faux-democracy slips from the smug and squidgy faces of all governments, as under the guise of “security” and “care” their tyrannical, control-freak underbellies are unveiled. Previously, they ignored most dissidents, for they were no real threat to the narcissistic self-serving day-to-day conniving of politicians. But instead of being transparent and responding with sincerity, the authorities’ pretence of tolerance and lip-service to ‘freedom’ has dissolved into repression, censorship and heavy-handedness, now that those same dissidents are openly questioning their lies and manipulations. True colours are being shown.

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They Love Big Brother…

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THAT FINAL PARAGRAPH BY ORWELL is highly psychologically astute, worthy of a little commentary here. Firstly, Winston (the main character in “1984”) chiding himself for having the “misunderstanding” that Big Brother was a tyrant rather than actually being a wonderful leader is extremely perceptive. To call Winston’s perception of Big Brother as a tyrant and the state as a totalitarian regime a mere “misunderstanding” shows how depleted Winston’s discernment was. To say that one’s perception of an evil regime as evil was a “needless misunderstanding” and all that was therefore needed was a slight adjustment in his understanding is disingenuous, to say the least. It presents Big Brother as a much-misunderstood benevolent leader. To see him as anything other than that is just a little “misunderstanding”, as he had now been persuaded to believe. Talk about being gaslighted! Seeing such a state as a tyranny and its leader as a tyrant is not a “misunderstanding” at all but a wise, brave, and honest conclusion. To think otherwise is like a rich old widow thinking that the handsome confidence trickster she met in the bar and who proposed to her did so because he cares about her rather than about her money!

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The Exorcist of Grudges

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WHAT IS IT IN THE HUMAN HEART which loves to bear a grudge? I assume it must be some obsession otherwise those grudges would not be clung to so avidly. Have you ever tried to dislodge a grudge in someone? It’s an almost impossible task, outside of some kind of exorcism. The more you try to uproot that spike of bitterness from grudgers, the more they will cling to it. It’s as if they have a need to bear grudges, for grudges are a form of victimhood. People bear their grudges like badges saying, “poor me”, so the world will feel sorry for them, and they can wallow in their mire of dark unjoy. Grudges are a form of hate embedded in the fabric of the soul (its freeze). Grudges are the canker sores of those who take offence with ease. Their precious little egos, when they’re slighted, make a meal out of venom and aggrievance and, begrudging conflict resolution, they would rather hide behind antagonistic zealotry than simple fruitful fellowship. People with grudges think they are indulging in justifiable resentment. But they are merely showing their pettiness and inability to forgive — if indeed there is anything really needing forgiveness, for very often grudges are based on the egocentric neuroses of the grudger rather than on any terrible evil of the one who is begrudged (which has usually been blown out of all proportion). So often, one finds that the object of the grudge is only something slight which could be annulled with just a mutual smile and a shared cup of tea, if only grudgers realised what course could set them free.

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