I man Fort Dume Isolation on Battered Hill overlooking Walled In Pond in the Gladgrimshine Realm of Midguard. "The Crystal Castle" glimmers forbiddingly in the distance. Idle, idle idler! Solitude sings as a coy doe prances deep into the forest. Death knocks at the door as I stare at an open field of a thousand smiles...and The Walled In Pond Meadow enchants coos haunts.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Ether Bandwidth and the Hungry Sun
I was talking with my psychiatrist the other day, because, well, I am considered a whack job here on earth according to the humans. I like to think of myself at times like Paul Atreides from Dune. Not that I am a hero and ride sand worms, but rather that I am the paladin witch that haunts Walled In Pond Woods and can handle my ether, or spice if you will, much better these days than my initial inception experience incipient-ness with such forces which produce spiritual forces in the neurons. Anywho, my psychiatrist when I asked him how his thought processes worked said he had a blank mind which is absolitly [sick[sic]] sickening. Noone has a blank mind and he was simply trying to tell me redundantly that he told me later that I was doing a little too fine. How could a person possibly be doing a little too fine? There is simply no such thing. Simply put he still thinks I am a paladin witch. But that is not the point of this post.
My point is to comment on the different bandwidths or frequencies one experiences when one is on the spice or manna nugg or burning solid quantities of ether and feeling blue lit blaze copacetic fine. And what I mean by frequencies is this: at times one seems utterly connected with everything, seamless frictionless ease-full painless existence. One thineks something morbid macabre and a crow approaches cawing for example. Ad infinitum. One commits a crime and like Emerson wrote the world turns to glass. True this be. The world is made of glass anyway as Emerson also wrote in different wording but the petty fascists really roast your ass with the all seeing eye lasers they claim to possess without questions and with complete and utter authority - utter also referring to the feminine, breasts, and cows because face it, the world is run by women these days. Ask any feminist and she will tell this trith to you and I believe T.H.A.T. bitch. I am in solid compromiseative androgenous revolt dissension schism, do not get me wrong, but I am not one of those guys who tells a Fem-Nazi she is in charge and turns the other way and laughs quietly aside. Fem-Nazis on the other hand could use a good laugh once in a while.
So when I committed a supposed "crime" at Hollister because my cartoon spirit father the machine Norse mythological deification G-Od Loki and my autopilot by decorum protocol concordat trysted and thought it the proper routing my ass was roasted through the glass by petty fascist laser beams. Their initial projection was to send me to the electric chair. Then of course they reduced the sentence to 10 years in prison and were a fire hound choking spitting on smoke smog acid rain fumes because they are petty fascists. Then of course, honor, character and freedom was thrown into the mix, Paris Hilton cast me a dumb dumb dumbfounded crestfallen teary eyed down downed downcast look, and I was systematically evaluated. As I have said every neuron firing is registered by some force in the universe. Personally I believe it to be the Dire Wolf Machine Core where my auotpilot resides because I randomized the randomizer or the mixer that matcher matches here in A-mere-ika. And this is all petty fascist legitamet bandwidth that everyone here is used to and familiar with because well the petty fascists are super-hyper rapid eager to punish sad paladin witches like me.
However, because we are not Spartans, when people and worker bees and flat out slaves and wage whores are released from their couplings and chains during the day they go home at night to watch Stewie and The Family Guy and become anarcho-nihilists and the bandwidth, the same bandwidth that evaluated my crime and record and honor and character and everything and what have you, is obviously and doh duhly erased and scrambled and what have you. An interesting historical study which would probably be impossible for many reasons is to what extent the standard Spartan neuronal bandwidth compared to ours on a daily moment to moment basis. As far as I am concerned, our bandwidth or ether signatures - ether signatures being the swarm-herd-civilization neuronal radiation coefficient that is emmited from our civilization core (Brahma programmatic) which configures us all and in my case determines my crime beforehand and I am branded nueronically allotting a judge cues to make a decision and pass judgement - are as wild as the wild west once was which is not a good thing because well nihilo-anarchist bandwidth is well for the most part chaotic and if not that than a dirty dirty ugly nasty whorish corrupt bitch and basically beaming vital energies to a hungry suicidal star in a flurry of disintegration: the sun.
A Threat to the above: U R Dead Next Greedy Social Ether Corruptor!!!