I have described these dreams with enough detail to serve the purpose of providing the essence of their occurrence, even though I know you cannot begin to understand how vivid and real they were.
So ... why tell you about them at all? Most people, according to the heterophobic parasites at the APA, have relational or very personal dreams. Dreams which can only derive from their own emotions and fears and desires.
I beg to differ on that issue, and about anything else which those worms say. My dreams are usually not about me at all. Yes, I am usually inside of each dream somehow, in some way, and I am doing something -- but the reason for the dream is not me. And then, there are dreams that I would call 'Observational Dreams', wherein I take no active part, but I move around from Observation Point to Observation Point.
Beyond that (in the Land of Human Dreams where no evil APA schemer has ever been), there are other kinds of dreams, including Foundation Dreams where the building blocks of what is Right and what is True are constantly being built and repaired and reinforced. Dreams which the APA will never tell you about, because they know nothing about Humans. If they knew about such things, they would prevent you from knowing about them anyway. Because, you are not supposed to know about yourself. You are supposed to be so constantly injured and controlled by the mind-fornicators of the so-called Homosexual Agenda, that all you can do when you dream -- is to bleed in sorrow.
This is because, you are all supposed to be too stupid and mesmerized by the Satan Tube, to have dreams which cannot fit inside a TV box -- a box of mind-death where you are the victim and they are the predators -- for ten minutes at a time -- between commercials; which is all that matters to the Owners and Operators of the Satanic Channels to begin with.
The huge amounts of homophile money paid to them, to make all programming shown by them fit the propaganda requirements of the Homosexual Agenda, is just the frosting on the cake. It is the twisted and toxic elixir of Total Power which they crave, and are themselves addicted to.
The APA sucking-arm of the SQLD, works in full cooperation with the Satanic Channels of the SQLD to keep as many of you as is possible, entirely dead-minded and addicted to the constant lies and playtimes of the Queer Medias. That includes your dreams.
Your dreams must conform to the restrictions, confinements and expectations of the APA sucking-arm of the Satanic and Queer Lying-Dead. Just like you. Just like you must conform daily, to the restrictions, confinements and expectations that the Democrat/Homosexuals and the Homosexual/Moderates have placed upon your existence, upon your awareness, upon your freedom to know, and upon your generations. Oh, and let us not forget -- Your 'Will of the People' -- which you will never be allowed to have as long as a single Political Prostitute and Genocider (like Madam Gronstal and 'Il Duce Branstad' of DemoIowa), are in any position of 'power'.
-----
For every three of you who scoffs at what I write here, and derides everything that I say, and portrays me as a freak show; because so far you have been excluded from The Attacks (since you are Hetero-haters anyway), or because you are already an obedient Voter/Follower, and your resistance does not need to be broken, since you never had any to begin with ... for every three of you, there is one Human Being who has been severely damaged, disabled, almost genocided or has been murdered by the very same attacks from the SQLD that I describe. It is for them that I write this. You may also read, if you are allowed to read. If you are not allowed to read this -- you might as well be dead.
I expect the Hell Howlers and the Hell Hounds of the SQLD to do their worst, to paint me as a delirious and dangerous neurotic. The more they scream and falsely accuse, the more I like it.
They could not be complaining, because they want to own your dreams ... could they?
After all -- Tyranny, is supposed to be Total.
*************************
I have spent a lot of time driving in mountainous areas, looking for the next valley, or the next vista. Along with seeing what is where and how, I was always looking for that unknown Shangri-la that has always been there, but no one (except the locals) knows about it. Which eliminates all of the 'Tourist Traps', of course.
In the process I have found quite a few surprisingly nice and out-of-the-way places, that even the glossy travel magazines do not know about -- or ignore because they do not see with Human eyes.
However, there is a mountainous land of splendors in my dreams which I often go driving in, that is beautiful beyond description. It is also complex, and changes terrain without warning.
I return to that place in my dreams, about six times a year, because it reminds me so much of the many places I have been to before, that are Alpine, or Sierra, or Rocky Mountain areas.
There are certain constants about this particular dreamland: It is heavily forested, with evergreens at the higher elevations and deciduous forests in the valleys. There are prominent places where I can drive to the top of a hill, or a mountain, and look everywhere. There are many scenic overlooks along the roadsides. There are many mountains, with foothills dispersed amongst them. The highest peaks are covered with snow, but the valleys are warm enough to drive with the windows down. The roads are well built and banked for high speeds, but no one seems to drive very fast there -- except me. There are many smaller two-lane roads that seem to go everywhere, without warning. The entire area does not give the appearance of being populated, and I seldom see houses anywhere.
There is always one lake in the scenario, that lies at the bottom of a long and wide valley which is surrounded by foothills and then mountains. It is beautiful, deep blue, sometimes has a bridge that goes across one end of it; and usually has a small city next to it that is built in Bavarian architecture; but I never can reach it.
No matter what I am driving, and no matter what speed, whenever I say to myself (from the top of some hill or from an overlook) that I want to drive down there and see what is going on there; I end up driving somewhere else. Something always catches my interest, and I drive in that direction, instead of going to the city by the lake.
I have seen that city and lake from afar many times, but I never can get to it. So nowadays, I just drive around in the mountains enjoying the scenery and the occurrences that happen there; and each time, I notice that the city and lake are still there; but I ignore them and continue on my way. Which is always strewn with unusual events, and characters.
I was there again two weeks ago. As usual, my journey was unexpected and interesting. I was driving a front-wheel drive 1966 Oldsmobile Toronado, with a 425ci Super Rocket V8 engine; which I borrowed from Joe Mannix, because he owes me big time.
I was heading upwards, deeper into the mountains, along a very lush and colorful valley (one of many) that had streams of cold and clear water running beneath it. I was driving along a road that had been carved along the right side of the valley, so the elevation rose to my right and dropped off to my left. The road sometimes came close to the edge of a precipice, and at such places there was a small overlook, but I ignored them because my destination was upwards.
From the steeper right side of the valley there came many descending streams of water, sometimes as waterfalls which were either right next to me, or recessed into small side canyons in which case they were higher falls, at least fifty feet or more. In each case, the road bed had been constructed to pass the water beneath the road using large pipes, so the streams could continue their descent to the river at the bottom of the valley.
The weather was bright, and a variety of mixed clouds floated overhead (no rain in sight), and occasionally I would drive through a cloud shadow and the air would get cooler.
I remember going over several passes, and the roads were all similar to this. I was getting deeper and deeper into the mountains, to the point where one imagines (expects) to see castles starting to appear, seemingly bolted to the sides of mountains or standing on top of prominent hills, surrounded by mountain peaks on three sides.
As the dream continued, I was driving down the far side of another mountain pass, down into a narrower and creviced canyon. In this canyon, the road went along the slope on the left side, crossed a suspension bridge, and then disappeared into a crevice in the right side of the canyon, where I knew it ran into a tunnel.
I reached over to the radio and turned it on, as I was looking along the left side that I was traveling on, and then I focused on the bridge. From the radio came the song 'On Days Like These' in the original Spanish by Matt Monroe, which had been the theme song for the first film called 'The Italian Job'.
I came to the right curve that led to the bridge and took the curve, coming to a complete stop at the start of the bridge. I slowly got out of the Toronado, lifted my sunglasses to the top of my head, took off the jacket of my expensive Italian suit (light grey with silver inlaid stripes, of course), threw it into the passenger seat and approached the sign, on the right side, on the bridge's first steel and concrete pillar.
"Point of No Return." is all it said.
"Humph! I laughed. I've been here before." I turned back to the car, reassured. All that I cared about was that it did NOT say "El Puente de San Luis Rey."
Matt Monroe was singing -- "On days like these, I wonder what became of you. Maybe today, you're singing songs with someone new."
I put the sunglasses back on my nose, got in the Toronado and started across the long span of the bridge. Once I was on it, I could see that now I was facing the tunnel opening, still a mile away. The music went on, and I looked down into the depths of the canyon. There was a river down there, filled with white water action, and from my Freightliner I could see it quite clearly over the railing.
I looked ahead, undaunted that I was now driving a black Freightliner, without a trailer. In the distance, on the other end of the bridge, a small procession of people on foot was walking in the opposite lane, towards me. The closer I got to them, the more colorful appeared their manners of dress; and as I passed them I clearly noticed: one older and richly dressed lady in Spanish lace and finery’s -- one younger and pretty girl attending the lady and talking softly -- one older gentleman dressed as an aging Spanish cavalier, whistling a solitary tune -- one younger man looking furtively down into the canyon -- and one young boy skipping towards the old cavalier with a captured bird in his hands.
"Signs lie." I said, as I drove into the tunnel with a little apprehension, because I was not sure if these Italian tunnels were high enough for a black Freightliner, but apparently it was. The song continued, louder now because the Freightliner had better speakers, and soon I emerged on the opposite side of the mountain.
I was no longer driving upwards, probably because I was now at an upper level of the terrain which is often described as an Alpine Meadow. Except, this place had a lot of cliffs and granite outcroppings on the sides of the mountains, which were covered in evergreen forests. The air was colder here, and now I was slowly driving up to a large intersection in the distance; bigger than one would expect way up here. Over it towered four light towers.
By the time I got there I had finished a bottle of Mountain Dew, two Ice Cream Bars, changed into my other pair of tennis shoes, and I had changed sunglasses and put on my favorite baseball hat, Chicago Cubs of course.
I got to the intersection, and it was empty. Just four roads, one big circle in the middle, my Freightliner and me. I shut off the Freightliner. All was silence.
It was about 8000 feet up I figured, and I began to wonder where I would go from here -- when the Freightliner began to slide to the left. Slowly at first, it began to slide sideways along the left-hand road, heading for the base of a mountain, and a lake which was over there.
This has happened before with this Freightliner, it has something to do with the brakes, and it will tend to float sideways across meadows, streams, corn fields etc. If you do not get out and pick it up, and put it back onto the tracks in the road, it will just sail off to wherever it seems to want to go at the time. A very independent Freightliner.
I reacted quickly. I knew that I had to get the truck back to the main valley as fast as I could, or it might skid into a forest, or skip across a pond and land in a watermill, or something equally difficult to get it out of.
I started the engine again, but it would not go into any gear except reverse. That left me with no choice but to drive it backwards, all the way back to the main valley, where it always behaves itself. This proved to be no problem, as the truck conveniently seemed to have a very large back window. All I had to do was to sit backwards and drive.
I instinctively chose the road that was opposite to its intended direction, and my land reckoning told me that the big valley was in that direction anyway, over several different mountain passes.
Personally, I was quite pleased with how the Freightliner drove at 'High Reverse'. I was now standing on the deck of the interior, looking backwards (out a huge back window), and driving with the bright steel wheel of an ocean-going ship.
With great acceleration I zoomed along this road, which became a wide four lane highway empty of other vehicles. Backwards, and at a great speed I drove up and down, and up and down, and up and down mountain passes, along long stretches of highway that were relatively bare of scenery. When I came down the far side of the third pass, with each pass being lower than the last, the Freightliner was revving up to a high pitch. Quickly, I was surrounded by thick forests again, and the altimeter was buzzing at me because I was flying too low. The stall buzzer was buzzing at me, so I eased the throttle levers forward and the jet engaged more.
We rose another twenty feet, and even though the speedometer said I was doing four hundred miles an hour, I was actually approaching a stop light at the top of another pass. This was the first pass I had seen all day, that had a traffic light at the top of it. It was to my liking however, because at the top of this pass was a wide gravel space on every side of every approach, so I put on the air brakes and pulled over onto the large gravel area just before the light.
Then, I was standing outside. I was out on the gravel, next to the trees, looking at this.
Only, mine was a deep green color everywhere, with white fuel pods, a white nose, white trim panels and bright yellow messages (in small capital letters) in strategic places, that gave warnings of where not to put your hands, lest they be burned off.
It was a brand new F102 Delta Dagger, I could still smell the new paint job, and it sat there humming away like expectant jet engines do -- waiting for the light to change. It was an impressive machine, large, massive, streamlined, and seemed to be heavy and serious -- like a John Deere Harvester, from a Bunny Rabbit's point of view.
But, I knew it would not leave without me -- so I looked around for a reason. Why was this happening?
Immediately, I saw some Hippies.
The F102 suddenly became just a jet engine, without fuselage or wings, that was sitting on top of a long berm of dirt next to the gravel area. It was old and partly covered by dirt and weeds. At the exhaust end, were several Hippies digging a makeshift cave in the ground beneath the engine. There were four male Hippies and three female Hippies. The three female Hippies were all wearing those home made quilt dresses that I used to rip off their gorgeous bodies during love play, back in the Golden Days of Free Love. They used to love that, really love that.
I motioned to the male Hippie, who had the shortest hair. He walked over to me, and I told him the Hostel that they were looking for was down the road I had just traveled. It was on the far side of the second mountain pass they would come to. I told him that I had just passed it on my way here. I did not mention that I was driving backwards in a Freightliner truck.
I pointed to the green and white Delta Dagger, which was now floating ten feet in the air above the gravel parking space, wheels up; and I told him they would have to move because of the jet exhaust.
Together, they all stopped digging in the ground, lifted up their backpacks, and began to walk down the road towards the Youth Hostel in the mountains.
I watched them walk away, and as I watched, I rose into the air until I was watching them from above. Then, I turned and flew into the Delta Dagger. I was sitting in the cockpit of the F102, with the canopy missing and just the windshield remaining, when the light went green again (below my wingtips) and I started driving down the very large and tree covered hill -- a small mountain really.
The road was so covered over by large trees, that I quickly found it best to drive at about one hundred feet above the road, giving me a good five feet of clearance over the trees.
The journey was somewhat like flying over the globe of the Earth at a high altitude. The roundness of the Earth was duplicated by the great hill I was flying over. It seemed to roll on and on, forever green, constantly and consistently expansive; and from time to time I could see the road far below, as it would show through the canopy of trees.
Gradually, the jet fighter that I was in was losing altitude, which told me that I was eventually going to reach the bottom of this long road through this massive jungle of forests.
A very large valley began to appear over the rolling horizon, with a long line of far mountains on the other side; and soon I saw that a large and long lake virtually filled the entire valley -- with very still waters. It was a valley I had never seen before.
I strained forwards to see better, and I could just make out the sparkle of a shining steel ship, anchored along the far side of the lake.
Yep, it was my Battlecruiser -- the 'Vormunder'.
I was getting close to the bottom of the hill now, and suddenly the land flattened and leveled out. Faintly, I could see a traffic light at a crossroads ahead, beyond the trees which were now coming to an end. Soon enough, I was stopped at a red light, one hundred feet up.
I noticed some movement on the ground below, so I set the air brakes and hit the down elevator button. With its engine still whooshing air, the jet fighter descended to about thirty feet and now, clearly, I could see a big brown and white bulldog (at least three feet tall) standing in the center of the intersection. He had a little white helmet on, a big white belt around his white belly and he had white paws -- everything else was brown -- except his nose which was big and black.
He was standing there looking up at me with big eyes, with his knees shaking, and was obviously experiencing some degree of shock. I was about to ask him for directions to my Battlecruiser, which I already knew was just a simple flight across the lake to reach -- when along the same road came a little box-like green and white car with no roof, complete with a windshield of muddy glass. Driving it was a little green and white lizard.
I turned my attention to the lizard, who had stopped the car at the yellow line, and was waiting for directions from the brown and white bulldog.
The lizard looked up at me, and sure enough, it was a Gecko.
I shouted down at it -- "Are you that new Gecko at WHO?"
It frowned, and said something vulgar in British.
I said -- "Watch it! I'll drop a turd on your head! I am a bird after all, you know. Or, maybe not!"
The Gecko gave a look of apprehension and hate, flipped me off, and abruptly turned its little box car around, and sped off back up the hill from whence it came.
The brown and white bulldog was getting worse by the moment, and I could see that he was starting to froth at the mouth. So .. I said my goodbyes, and hit the up elevator button and the accelerator at the same time.
Whoosh! I flew ahead, and suddenly I was skimming over the big lake with the crosshairs, on my heads-up display, centered on that shining steel ship in the distance.
The closer I got to the ship, the more I remembered my laundry.
I had left the washing machine going, when I decided to go for a ride. I knew that I had to get back to the washing machine or it would not work right. Unfortunately, the washing machines of today are not programmable down to each step of every cycle. That means, each step should be programmable by the user -- to avoid wasted time and energy costs, or to increase time due to extra dirty loads. I often watch over the loads that I wash, manually reducing the times for lightly soiled loads or doubling the times for oil stained and grimy loads. On my machine, I took out the interlock switch, that is controlled by the opening and closing of the cover and replaced it with a manual switch box, bolted to the side of the control panel. With that switch 'off' the washer will go through a wash step and then stop, as though the cover was open. That allows the clothes to sit there and soak. Then, hours later I will restart the wash step and turn the switch 'on', allowing it to do a complete cycle. This is very effective on washing dirty clothes.
Flying along in my Jet Fighter, I knew that I had to get back to my washing machine and monitor that wash of dirty blue jeans -- because no one makes the programmable washing machine that I need.
As I flew along, just a few yards above the surface of the lake, I kept looking for the silhouette of the ship, to make sure it was mine. I kept seeing it from my point of view, and from a view far above me -- alternately, back and forth. At last, I saw its outline -- and no, it was not the 'Vormunder'. Instead, it was the HMS Nelson, a sister ship to my own, and somewhat similar though smaller.
Whatever ship it was -- my washing machine was onboard, and I had to get back in time to change the controls.
-----
I woke up, laughing, and grumbled all the way down to the basement; where I threw in another load of dirty bluejeans (which I had accumulated from three weeks on the road) -- started the wash, flipped the switch to 'off' and went back upstairs and to bed again -- to see if I could pick up where the dream had left off. Which I could not.
-----
I got up and went back down to the wash room, flipped on the radio (NOT WHO) and began to finish the weekend's laundry.
No sooner did I turn on the radio, then I heard three 'Radio Ads' in a row. The first was some twisted bitch, with a mouth full of soft worms, trying to ooze out the suggestion that if anyone in the 'Idiot Listening Audience' has any problems with being confined in and a prisoner of Planet Sinister, they should seek advice and consolation from (of all the demonic swine in the Universe) the Anuses, Perverts and Alchemists of the APA.
I would have puked down the drain pipe right then, but there followed two more Radio Ads, both of which talked about Human communications problems (which is a good thing to talk about, if Humans are doing the talking). The first was about Black Humans not talking to each other enough, from the U.S. Dept. of Health -- the second was about parents and children not talking enough, from the Church of Latter Day Saints.
I stood there and said to myself -- "Well, that's two out of three for us. Things are getting better."
Then, I thought about the rotten rats at the APA, and the horrible things they have done to everyone --
and then, I thought of you.
*************************
My second dream was shorter and more disparate, as in comprised of unrelated events.
It began quite simply. I was dreaming a whirlpool of sub-dreams that were being turned into foundation stones of Truth, and for entertainment while I worked, a dream with detailed substance began. In it, I was standing on a busy street in a city of nineteenth century architecture, which could have been London but was more likely Old Baltimore or Old Dover, here in America. The street was made mostly of bricks and cobblestones, as asphalt pavement had not been invented yet.
I was standing at a high point of the view, with the street running naturally down a very long slope, gradually. Nineteenth century storefronts, with colorful awnings on them that extended over the sidewalks; and brown apartment buildings with white windows, lined both sides of the road. In the far background, I could see the tall funnels of a coal-burning power plant. There was a horse-drawn trolley car on tracks, that ran along the center of the road, about a mile further down the street, taking on passengers. The trolley car was black, and the four horses were large and black draft animals.
I began to float down the length of the street, and I thought to myself -- "This is an interesting place. It looks like America, before the Queer Death."
Suddenly, as though being forcefully defecated upwards out of Hell, there appeared a pale and thin zombie, of the demented geek type, dressed in dark clothes. From its black lips, on a sheet-white face punctuated by large and demanding doll-like eyes, came the words -- "Naaww, yoouuu aree wwrrooonnn ..."
I immediately shot it down. With one of my Ruger Super Redhawk .44 magnums. I thoroughly enjoyed watching four bullets punch neat holes into its upper corpse, and it fell like a rock; not having enough time to realize that following that last set of queer orders got it a free ticket to 'Final Death'.
In the Hideous Boston Horrid Zone, where crawling and feces-eating 'Mind-Fornicators' of terrible intentions and murderous desires prey upon any Human brain that they can reach with invading telepathic means -- using the lessons they learned from the Anuses, Perverts, and Alchemists (APA) of the SQLD -- and preferably at night when the Human victims are asleep and defenseless -- I was something of a disappointment to them.
I shot them dead. I let them attack into my space and brain just far enough to not be able to escape. A practice which I am sure has caused great disappointment to the Masters of the Mind Fornicators of DemoIowa; such as Madams Gronstal and Murphy, and of course The Queer Old Cheese itself.
I became the brain where Killer Queers go to die. Having been shot, stabbed, beheaded, etc. each time the turds tried to invade my brain, and pour their queer thoughts of living death into my mind [[which is part of the process of making 'Queers' and/or queering Humans who oppose them]] -- they sent out a call across the continent for all of the worst mind-fornicators to come to the Boston Horrid Zone and attack my brain, while I was asleep (or unaware).
I butchered them all, like the berserk pigs that they are.
I do not know by what measure those pieces-of-crap determined the horribleness of their powers (probably by a list of previous successes at killing Human brains) -- but I found no difference about them, except their own particular favorite perversion. I slaughtered them all with equal happiness. The more this went on, the more severe were the deaths that I dealt out to their invading puss sacks (formerly brains).
Finally, they quit and gave up that filthy and awful practice -- against me at least.
That is why, the so-called Homosexuals labeled me as 'death'.
I killed their every attempt, to invade my mind and turn me into a 'Queer' like them.
-----
In this second dream, which I had recently, my reaction to the propaganda toad (that was saying that I was in any way wrong, and not right), was automatic. Very straightforward, and I did not give it a second thought.
What caught my attention, was the enormous spaceship at the end of the street. It was sleek, but not in a Star Wars kind of way. It was comprised of many shades of stainless steel, all polished and some to a mirror finish. It was essentially a set of long engines encased in a corrugated wrapper, from which came forwards a thick and cylindrical body. After a few hundred yards the body became a ring of mirrored steel, and from this a long nose cone protruded with blue windows in it. The ship had wings, but they were large and short; obviously not needed for aerial navigation.
It was a design that could be too simple, and could turn out ugly if not done right; but this ship was streamlined as though a locomotive designer from the good old days of stainless steel railroads had created it. It was spectacular in appearance, and I knew it was real. Far more real than everything else. Obviously, everyone in this city was so absorbed by their social programming and the routine of their everyday lives, that they completely ignored this Star Ship; which was sitting on its landing legs about two miles from me, pointed towards my right because down there the road curved to the left.
I continued to float down along the street, closer to the scene of the Star Ship and the nineteenth century people who were bustling all around it, and beneath it.
I was about to think to myself that this place and these people do not have any idea how powerful ...
And without warning, the Star Ship went to full power and blasted upwards into space, at about a forty degree angle. I could clearly see the large bulk of its mass, and get a sense of its weight; but its engines were so powerful that it was gone in a steel streak of blurred motion. Leaving behind it a scene of sudden and unheard of catastrophe.
I had enough time, as I was floating towards the immense fireball that had engulfed the street, to think to myself how sad and stupid it is for people to become so dulled and dismayed by their 'Society Leaders and Propagandists', that all they can do anymore is to think inside the narrow confines of what their Masters have allowed for them -- and then I woke up.
*************************
My third recent dream, was much different from the first two; as in more organic and natural.
But first, a little background. One of the many brainwashing techniques that the Liberal Liars are trying to use, to debase and pervert all Human Values and Human Virtues, is to queer the foundations of all Masculinity and all Femininity. Their original weapon for this, in their feces minds, was the 'Queers'. They promoted, financed and trained the worst possible perverts to attack their enemies -- the 'Conservatives' -- with Intent to Kill. While the 'Conservatives' were too busy defending themselves from the 'Queers', the Liberals would twist and distort and rape all former Laws and Societal Principles to suit their own dogs**t brains; until all that was left was their own Dogs**t Empire.
That plan went horribly wrong. Now the Liberals, that tried that plan, are just the dried up and blown away crap of the SQLD, and the Killer Queers. The 'Liberal Liars' of today, are the Nightmares of the original Liberal Lawyers.
Nightmares, (like today's ugly Mitt Romney plan) -- totally approved of by the swine at the USA QUEERDAY newsrag -- are based upon the routine of suggesting that, and then intimidating that, and then demanding that Masculinity is really just 'Feminism-Unrealized'; and that all male genital organs are really just a mistake and must be replaced by what should really be there instead -- namely plastic vagina’s. Really. That is the filth, that is in their Trans-sexed and Cross-sexed puss sacks. (brains)
This insipid technique starts off with the suggestion that the Old Chinese symbol of Yin and Yang actually means that instead of -- 'The World, and the experiences within it, is made up of Males and Females' (as is the original meaning) -- instead, the Queer Socialist perversion of the symbol must be accepted. Which says that each person is Male and Female, and those that have more of one kind are 'sexed' as Male or Female.
Yin: feminine principle: the principle of darkness, negativity, and femininity in Chinese philosophy that is the counterpart of yang.
The dual, opposite, and complementary principles of yin and yang are thought to exist in varying proportions in all things.
Yang: masculine element: in Chinese philosophy, the principle of light, heat, motivation, and masculinity that is the counterpart of yin and is thought to exist along with yin in all things. Microsoft Encarta
As you can quickly see, what the Ancient Chinese Philosophers called 'Masculine' and 'Feminine' were Principles, that are quite unlike any thought patterns known in these 'Modern Times'. It was a Thought Posit -- an Hypothesis -- which equated 'Feminine' with darkness and negativity -- and equated 'Masculine' with light, heat, and motivation.
The Ancient Chinese Philosophers were all Males, of course. Certainly, and definitely, they had no idea that thousands of years later a cesspool of Queer Propagandists would be mutilating, diseasing and smearing the original meaning of the Yin and Yang Principle, with a horrible slime of death called Liberal Philosophy.
It is a Liberal Philosophy Hoax that seeks to use anything, it can possibly distort and sewerize, to its own sick-sick-sick purposes and queer intentions. It is just a lie. Another Dirty Liberal Lie. Spoken by scum bags, to idiots.
Alone, it would just be the ravings of brain-injured patients in a 'Psych' ward. However, for Socialist Utopian purposes, all of us must be convinced that each of us, is really both sexes. We should spend our lives acting like both sexes, and thinking like both sexes -- and especially thinking in the weakest and easiest ways to control and manipulate, of both sexes.
So, being mind-fornicated into believing that you are really a two-sexed freak, is not bad enough for the Liberal Liars. We must all become the worst possible retards and basket cases of both sexes. We are taught how to be so stupid and deranged, by the social programming that we are subjected to. By the many twisted branches of the Homosexual Agenda, such as the maggot-mouthed Democrat/Teachers in their factories of anti-Human propaganda; formerly known as schools and universities.
The pissant liars of this technique are so insidious and adept at preying upon any moment of confusion and greed, that they are even diseasing 'Christians' into thinking that there is a kind of two-sexed existence in each of us. I recently heard a lunatic 'Christian' on a so-called Christian radio talk show, suggesting that all males really have vagina’s inside themselves. That each male has a trapped female inside him, that wants to 'come out' and show 'Feminism Tenderness and Feminism Healing'.
[[ Right there, is a set of outlandish and purely idiotic lies. 'Feminism', which is the death of 'Femininity', has never been associated with anything except 'Death', since the sewage was first invented. ]]
It was even sick enough to say that Jesus Christ of Nazareth was just a candy-assed sissy who showed how Healing, Teaching and Nurturing by Males can only happen, because all Males are secretly just Feminist Lesbians trapped inside Male bodies.
It is a case of gutter trash, talking gutter trash, to plant in everyone's minds that there is some kind of underlying justification for making Faggots out of Boys, and making Dykes out of Girls. It is truly the rotten core of Queer Propaganda.
It is very offensive to all Men and Women, extremely dangerous to all Human Children, and this putrid hoax explains two things immediately --
1. That 'Christian', was really a cross-dressing punk, that has been trained to queer Christianity from the inside out -- starting with an obvious place of feebleness and cowardice -- a worthless 'family radio' talk show, that should be called 'Focus on the Failures'.
Is it just a coincidence, that right now in DemoCalifornia there is a bill being proposed that will allow all 'cross-dressers' to wear whatever kind of clothes they want to wear at work, no matter what the dress code is at that job, and regardless of the sanity levels that are required at any workplace?
2. Reality is still the worst enemy of a sick-sick-sick hoard of perverts, who want everyone and everything to be consumed by and converted by their Bubble World of Lies.
-----
Not that matters are not bad enough already. Women are always doing feminine stuff with other females, and are totally absorbed in the world of females, without Men. When they do interact with Men, they are so mono-maniacal about femininity, that they expect Men to do feminine stuff with females, the way that they do -- not caring or realizing that such acts will make Men into pissants, and no longer Men.
Consequently, the two sexes are divided along sexual behavior lines and do not interact as Men and Women should (without either sex trying to queer the other), anywhere near what could be considered as a healthy quantity and quality.
Meanwhile, the Queer Agents attack both sexes, to pervert and confuse and make insane the previously normal habits and customs of both sexes (as they are and operate without the opposite sex); with the intention of making it impossible for the two sexes to ever be compatible and healthy with each other again.
The Queer Strategy is obvious -- divide and conquer, until each sex is so queered that it cannot love or share or exist with the opposite sex, except as co-conspirators in Evil. Evil that is closely controlled by the SQLD Masters.
-----
Making everyone think that they have alien monsters of the opposite sex inside themselves, is a typical and grotesque (typically grotesque) ploy and hoax; the like of which the so-called Homosexuals are always trying to attack our Species with.
The Reality is --
Masculinity is just that, and nothing more.
Femininity is just that, and nothing more.
That which is Masculine -- is Masculine -- without Femininity.
That which is Feminine -- is Feminine -- without Masculinity.
Qualities such as Healing, Compassion, Giving, Understanding, Protecting, Nurturing and Teaching are native talents to both sexes -- separately and in distinctively different ways -- utterly without anything to do with, or any dependency upon, the opposite sex.
That means, that Masculine Healing is entirely Masculine. Feminine Compassion is entirely Feminine. Masculine Nurturing is entirely Masculine. Feminine Protecting is entirely Feminine, and so forth.
Any attempt to make anyone believe otherwise, is a deliberate attempt to undermine and destroy the Reality Foundations of our Human Species. It is an act of Attempted Murder, nothing less.
--------------------
Having said that, you can now understand this. I have a soft spot for little furry creatures, that are soft and cuddly; and can survive a few slaps against walls, just to hear what they can sound like.
Hey! That's an improvement! I used to use the -- 'Count the toes, with a Hammer on an Anvil' -- routine. I got more tones that way, but less survivors -- so I gave that up.
--------------------
My third dream, began about a small and fuzzy little creature which my entirely masculine brain thought was really cute and neat and wonderful. Like I used to think that the Douglas Squirrels at Sequoia National Park were really cute and neat and wonderful, when I was sixteen years old.
This little fur ball stood about eight inches tall, and was mostly black with white spots that changed locations while the dream went on. It had a kind of beige colored beak and two dark eyes, but was so fuzzy that the face was often obscured. It said nothing, not even when stepped on -- I mean requested to speak. It had no visible arms or legs, but liked to crawl around on the floor of my living room, as long as the door was shut. But, if the door was open it would immediately begin to scurry for the outdoors.
This escape attempt happened twice, and each time I would quickly run outside and follow his little tracks down to the bushes by the creek, next to the cabin. On the other side were a bunch of playing kittens, who would stop and point with their paws to the wonderful little animal that I did not want to lose -- who was hiding behind a clump of weeds, desperately trying to load a slingshot with an oversized rock.
Each time, each escape attempt, I gently grabbed the little furry 'whatever' and took it back to my living-room; where it would recommence to be happy and amuse itself; by chewing through electrical cables and then jamming the two wires together; to get that smell of 'Burnt Rug' that we all love so much. I stood at the doorway, quite pleased to hear the fuses snap in the power box downstairs.
Then, I was standing outside in the yard. I was looking upwards, as high as I could.
Far above me, high up in the tall trees, was a flock of Rock Geese. The trees were very tall, with trunks that had no branches until they were two hundred feet high. Then, mighty and interlocked branches came out of the trees, but there were no leaves on the branches. The sky seemed to be filled with a great intertwining of these branches, but I could see a bright and cream colored outer area, without the branches.
The Rock Geese were colored with light grey bodies, white chests, black and gold tufts on the tops of their heads, white beaks and granite speckled wings. They flew around and through, and over and under the many branches of the trees, very far over my head. There were many of them, and they made quite a spectacle as they chattered and flew in many different patterns amongst the tree tops. From far above, there shined a bright white light as though muffled through lower clouds. This light shone above all of the Rock Geese, and they stood out in contrast beneath it.
I remarked to someone, I know not who, if they would stay up there or fly off? As most flocks do, they decided to leave and travel on to the next natural place of interest, to them.
It was then, that I was surprised to see just how they go about leaving one place, and flying off to the next. One after another, they flew up and away from the trees, and then dove straight down towards the ground. Like a shower of falling meteors, they descended at great speed towards the ground all around me. In each case, with each geese, each of them folded his rock hard wings in front of himself and curled his head down onto his belly, until all that could be seen was a curved set of rock wings, followed by a long tail.
They each smashed into the Earth with such an impact, as to make a crater in the Earth the size and depth of themselves, all of which was done in silence from themselves, but was accompanied by a great sound like the incoming whine of real artillery shells.
The ground around me became smashed and shattered by a flood of Rock Geese raining down upon the land. In each case, each geese would roll back out of its crater as it opened its wings, and shake off some dirt quickly. Then, it would hurriedly flap its wings while running forwards until it was airborne. At which time, it would give forth with great blasts of geese chorus.
I thought to myself, as I watched this all happen, that it is no wonder naturalists say that wild animals must live in the wild -- and will die in captivity.
One of them came crashing down into the dirt just to the left of me, sending debris and topsoil outwards in a blast cone around it. In a flash, it raised up again on its wingtips and brought its head back up. In a second, it would have spread those wings and run away with the rest of its flock, until it became airborne by flapping as hard as it could. In that second I reached forwards and caught it by its body, before the wings could spread out.
In an instant, so fast I could not see it happen, it turned its head around and bit hard on my right hand. I felt the pressure of this, but it was easy to pry its beak off, and soon I was holding it captive while the rest of the Rock Geese flock continued to impact around me and then recover to run away, flapping off into the sky. The seriousness of all of this, and the absolute Non-Humanity of it, was not lost on me.
Finally, only the two of us remained.
The wings of this bird were speckled by some kind of shining and iridescent mineral, spread in great numbers across its wingspan, but randomly. It sparkled in the Star Lux. It was an animal of totally Non-Human design. From a world that was completely alien.
It looked forwards and forlornly, at the hundreds of Rock Geese that were flying away from us, climbing higher and higher, slowly.
I let it go. I just opened my hands, and it was gone. I looked up to see it flying as fast as it could to catch up with its friends, not looking back.
As soon as they were all gone, I walked out into the middle of the moon-like landscape and planted a small sign on a stake in the middle of it, which read -- "Gopher apartments for rent."
I returned to my living room, and could not find the wonderful little furry 'whatever'. I was deeply sorrowed by its absence, and I went back down to the bushes by the creek, but the kittens there just shrugged their shoulders. Most of them were taking mud baths on the creek bank, so I could only see their faces sticking up out of the mud anyway.
-----
I woke up feeling sorry that I had not kept the door closed, or put legs irons on the little bastard before I went out to the yard, but then again -- it just would have died in captivity anyway.
I felt a deep keenness of Truth, about the wild nature of Nature and its inhabitants. and how we people have been so denatured and removed from Nature, that we cannot even conceive of what it must really be like, to be Nature's animals living in the Real Nature -- completely devoid of anything to do with Mankind.
And then, I thought of you again.
*************************
You were expecting maybe? Dreams by Dostoyevsky?
God help us all.
Then again, Dostoyevsky might say the same thing about me.
*************************
I should make an entire message, 400 pages, about the writings of Dostoyevsky.
But, Albert is more important right now.
*************************
YOU.
YOU are about five billion too many for this Planet. If all that you are ever going to do, is to live on this one planet, there are way too many of you. With these numbers that you have now, you must either leap outwards or go on a serious diet, because this species is much too fat for one little planet.
YOU nonetheless need a reason for daily living and your overall existence.
YOU scratch and claw and plan to stay alive and solvent and 'successful' at some level.
YOU are given programmed ways in which to survive and be 'successful' in the societies you are born into.
YOU have been told that these ways, which you are to deal with and choose from, are the best for everyone, and the 'general society'.
YOU are not supposed to question the motives of the 'society planners'. You are supposed to accept their protestations of good will, and do your 'expected best' to conform to what those 'society planners' say is needed by the 'general society'.
YOU are expected to live your entire life over such pre-arranged foundations, while the 'society planners' tell you who and what to accept as your leaders and your 'Superiors'. Superiors who will lead the entire 'general society' to greater happiness, and a more secure future. Superior smiling puppet clowns, like Mitt Romney, that are pushed upon you by those 'all-knowing planners', that have decided what ways you will live and exist in their society.
The Queer Ways.
The Homosexual Agenda Ways.
Because -- The Entire 'Social System' Has Broken Down -- Been Deliberately Broken Down -- Turned Into Compost And Rotten Matter -- And Is Now About As Benevolent And Well-Meaning As The Continual Stings Of A Herd Of Scorpions.
You, are in the proverbial 'Deep Shit' !!!!
----------
Only -- It's Worse.
YOU have to be managed and controlled, polled and tabulated, persuaded and convinced (with any threats possible) that the ways of the so-called Homosexuals are the best possible ways for you and the 'general society' -- but they do not tell you the why. Namely, a 'general society' that is possessed of such horrible evils and perversions, is (to them) easier to control and intimidate, and mold and send to War (with a Queer Armed Forces) against any other 'general society' that is not allied to them (and in bed with them) by the worst imaginable debasements and dementia. Another 'general society' such as the Human Species.
YOU are the intended fodder for such deviate intentions. You are the putty on their play board. You are the clay, fresh out of the wrapper. You are the mud on the potter's wheel -- which they must shape and form into their idea of an obedient and subservient Lump. A Voting Lump. A Bowing Lump. A Worshiping Lump. A Lump that says "Yes." -- to anything they want. But, only a Lump. Without Human Definition, or Human Form, or Human Virtues. Planet Sinister is a 'Planet Of Bleeding And Obedient Lumps' -- nothing more is required.
YOU are not the first generation of Humans to be treated this badly, however. All through History, there have been Dictators and Masters and Tyrants who have promised much, demanded more, and dealt with Human Resistance very harshly. But, they only had Human greed and Human ideologies as reasons. Within the last one hundred years, a completely Un-Human and God-Awful series of mental diseases has come upon you all. With the hideous and mindless purpose of killing all that came before them, and Replacing Everything with their own mental disease. Literally, until all that exists is the mental disease itself. Until, the mental disease itself is the only thing that is known, and therefore acceptable. Which will automatically make the mental disease into 'Normalcy', and 'Sanity'.
YOU will be outlawed and castigated and attacked, and imprisoned and beaten, and tortured and mutilated and exterminated as an 'Enemy Of The People', if you do not have a Democrat/Homosexual or a Homosexual/Moderate Master. If you are not under the direct control of a sucking-arm of the SQLD -- You will be considered a 'Dangerous and Unwanted Disease' -- in Planet Sinister -- Home of DemoTopia.
YOU are the target, and intended dupe, of the worst homosexual intentions towards you -- and those intentions are extremely damaging, toxic, and lethal -- to an extreme. But, there is more damage happening to you than just what the so-called Homosexuals are trying to do to you.
YOU live on a Damaging Planet, which is operated (as much as they can get away with) by a deadly assortment of Users and Abusers, Pretenders and Demanders, Masters and Bastards, Witches and Bitches that Hate God, Christians, and Humanity so terribly that they can distill that Hatred and turn it into a power of threats and persuasions and murders. Which allows them to take control of any organism or mechanism of any 'general society', that is not already locked up and nailed down by the Real Humans. I call it -- Planet Sinister.
YOU have to 'Know To Win', in such a dire circumstance. Keeping you 'Ignorant and Confused', is the key to their success over you. And, this is where you have to undercut and undermine all of their intentions towards you. By knowing more. By knowing more than they fear you will know. By knowing the entire Reality of Planet Sinister -- the wicked foundations and wretched dynamics of it all.
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There are so many of you, that a certain manipulative and devious percentage of you, even one percent is too much, intends to make its living and success by manipulating and controlling the rest of you. I mean a percentage of you, not the SQLD.
It is really really bad, and sinister. IT, Is The Sinister Within You.
And, it works as follows:
--------------------
The People, are really only The Masses.
The Masses are soft and gullible and careless on a broad scale. Each of them is absorbed in his, or her, own survival and happiness. Whenever the Masses do think in any kind of collective form, they do so entirely based upon how they have been educated to do so -- by the teachers in the schools that they attended, by the advertisement/intimidation’s they have received from TV, the FM radio band, and the newspapers; by the Middle-Managers-For-Profit, and by the propaganda agents (that have already been brainwashed and paid off) in their schools, work places, and neighborhoods.
Any teachings and advice that they received from their parents is to be discounted and disabled, as it may be counter to the latest Mass Programming from the Masters -- and it may reflect older programming that is not acceptable to the latest (and more evil) Masters.
Any Social Scheme ... that is to be instilled into the 'General Unthinking Masses' must seem to be an extension of the most recently passed schemes, and prepare the way for worse and more degenerate and perverted schemes. Such as laws allowing cross-dressing insanity in-your-face, in DemoCalifornia.
Within the schemes, the People are just the necessary fodder for the social task of destroying the Human Species -- who naturally resist any attempts to exterminate them, whether by Replacement or by Murder.
By now, we all know these basics facts about the Homosexual-Agenda, and the reasons for existence of the Homosexual/Democrats and the Moderate/Homosexuals.
The part of it that I am focusing on here, is the long term and generational abuse and usury that underlies such awful atrocities as what the SQLD are attempting.
There actually are creatures on this planet (Planet Sinister) that see You as nothing more than the necessary cogs and wheels and minions for Their existence. Existing only for their sake, and for their benefit.
The thesaurus entries for the word 'minion' are:
follower, gofer (informal), hanger-on, crony, underling, assistant, sycophant, toady, dogsbody, and subordinate.
It is worse than that, however. To those Establishment Creatures, both Political and Military -- you are nothing more than sub level Slaves. They use propaganda firms and 'Ad Campaigns' to make you think that they really care about you. And to them, they have you so cowed and trained, that all they have to do is to throw you an occasional bone, or a double portion of your favorite addiction, and you will be immensely grateful and respectful to them -- and mindful of your proper place in Their Society -- as a Slave.
The thesaurus entries for the word 'slave' are:
drudge, flunky, menial, factotum and dogsbody.
But, even that does not properly describe how low and lifeless you really are to them. To those anti-Human creatures, all of you who work under them, follow their rancid rules and vote for them (despite their obvious Evils), are nothing more than Things; to be used, controlled and kept in line by Middle Managers For Profit.
The thesaurus entries for the word 'thing' are:
object, article, item, entity, gadget, device, mechanism, machine, contraption, thingamajig -- Microsoft Encarta
To say that such Establishment Masters have contempt for you, while they consider you to be nearly worthless necessities for Their Schemes and Their Society, would be saying too much. They only experience contempt for you, if and when you refuse to obey their hideous intentions and vile perversions.
At all other time -- you are -- "Beneath Contempt."
Mitt Romney style.
When you look at it, with clear eyes that have not been burnt by the sick-sick-sick images of intense fakery that are constantly put on the Satan Tube, you will soon see that it is the Institutions (Political and Military), and the Establishments (Political and Military), and the Corporations (Political and Military) that matter to the continued existence of Planet Sinister. The People who live in it, at any one time, are just the necessities that must be endured, and fed, and led to obedience and carelessness. So careless and ignorant, that they can never disobey, revolt, or cause any disruption in the planned Systems (Political and Military).
To rise to prominence in such a Factory World of Inhumanity, only requires extremes of evil thoughts and deeds, and a sharing of the Master's complete disregard for the People. Which explains why there are so many twisted and queered 'Admirals', in Heinrich 'Himmler' Reid's Queer Navy of the Damned.
It is so bad on Planet Sinister, that only the most dire and depressing predictions made by the Science Fiction Writers of the 60's, 70's and 80's come close to describing how damned awful it really is. But, their writings did not predict the planet killing and species exterminating onslaught of the grotesque mental disease, of the Killer Queers.
They missed the connection between the forces of Socialist Satanism, and the maggots of the Anuses, Perverts and Alchemists (APA) entirely. So, their predictions fell far short of the nauseating existence of today's Planet Sinister.
Mitt Romney style.
With clear eyes it is possible to see, that to try to 'live' on Planet Sinister, is just a sick and cruel joke -- on You. Generations of You are just the grist in the Mind Mill of their Intended Future Society, ruled by the worst and latest Masters.
Grandfather, Father, Son and Grandmother, Mother, Daughter -- all are nothing more than the little things that have to be trained and used, generation by generation, to keep the Systems operating -- for the Masters.
What started as Nationalism and a Country of Cultures -- is now reduced to motifs and decorations plastered upon an otherwise grotesque and feeble existence -- in the service of the SQLD Masters. The onslaught upon and domination of the country, by the so-called Homosexuals is just an indicator of how God-Awful and rotten the elite Core of Masters has become.
There are hundreds of such indicators of how bad Planet Sinister is. For example -- Monkeys. Monkey-brained Law Prostitutes (less-supreme-than-anyone-else), pretending to be Supreme Judges. Those swine are not fit to judge a turd rolling contest by Dung Beetles -- let alone to judge Human Beings.
Has anyone forgotten, that in Planet Sinister all forms of Human Reason and Constitution are meaningless, and Monkey Judges now make Laws (Queer Laws) that the Political Prostitutes use to replace Real Human Laws with? Just exactly as they intend to replace Real Human Beings with Queer Beings -- made dominant and superior by well-paid Monkey Judges, making Queer Laws on order. For profit.
*************************
A result of all of this terribleness, is a question.
Why exist at all? Everything in this Planet Sinister is rigged against you. To Planet Sinister, you only exist for them -- the Masters. To the Owners and Operators of Planet Sinister, nothing you can do will break their hold over you. You were born for them. To be made into whatever they want you to be, or have been paid to make you into. That, is existence at its most base and enslaved worst.
So ... if you are a living and thinking Human Being ... and you are locked into the daily death dirges of the Planet Sinister Society ... Why exist at all?
Answer:
To begin with, who has the right to say that you cannot exist? I say there are five billion too many of you here, already. But, you are here. Now that you are here, why should you not have the right to exist.
You see, Humans have every right to exist on this or any other Planet -- unless the current owners say otherwise. What the SQLD and the so-called Homosexuals are doing is to reverse all of that. Those things want to say that since their disease exists, and they throw it in your face to make sure you know it exists; then by the mere fact that it is here, must mean that it has every right to exist. And by the way, you (who are not part of the disease) no longer have the same rights as they do. Your continued existence is doubtful, and unnecessary unless you get in line with the existence of their insane and fabricated lies. If you fail to comply with their demands, your existence is no longer necessary, and you must be replaced. In fact, that has already been decided for you.
For instance -- if the Faggots of DemoCalifornia create a Queer Law, that says any cross-dressing psychopathic lunatic can wear any kind of clothing it wants to wear on the job (whatever the disease-of-the-moment is) -- and you object to such insane behavior in the workplace where you make your living -- then you must be bad -- you must be 'Non-compliant' -- you must be 'Resistant' --
You must be replaced.
Only in that way can the mental disease called 'Homosexuals' be sure that it will not be cured and reduced and eliminated -- by Sanity and Human Beings. It also makes for a great excuse to queer and kill every Human that still exists, here or anywhere.
Does that make it right? The Monkey Judges say "Yes!" That is enough excuse to make Queer Laws to destroy the Human Species with. Besides, the 'Queers' pay very well. And, Monkeys need a lot of bananas.
No Scruples. No Principles. No Honesty. No Validity. No Decency.
But, they demand bananas!
So ... why are they not in cages?
-----
You, as a Human Being, have every right to exist as soon as you are conceived. But, what I am constantly concerned about -- is your Fate. On Planet Sinister, what Fate can a Human Being have?
Planet Sinister is a Sinister-Master-Ruled factory; designed and operated for Master Satisfaction, and for Master Pleasures. The sicker and more insane are the Masters, the more vile and debased and queer are the Requirements for your everyday existence.
I do not mean to demean the Pharaohs of Ancient Egypt, by saying that in any way they were similar to the perverted and twisted Masters of the SQLD -- but the Pharaohs of Ancient Egypt ruled with absolute power. And, perhaps with absolute love.
There keeps popping up, the conflicting stories of who built the pyramids, and why. One side says it was built by slaves in bondage, the other side says the Egyptians themselves built the pyramids and the slaves just performed supportive roles. The pyramids, for those who do not know, were the tombs of the Pharaohs. Either way, a living Pharaoh had absolute power, through various governmental arteries, and his word was Law. Everyone lived by the Law of the Pharaoh. His wishes were total, and all Egypt was obliged to satisfy those wishes.
Today, in Planet Sinister, the nasty fetishes and queer perversions and mental diseases that infest the Masters of the SQLD (and brought them to power inside the grotesque dung heap that is the Satanic and Queer Lying-Dead) are the Law Makers. To satisfy those evil habits and vile teachings, the Masters want and demand an entire world filled with similar atrocities and insanities -- to satisfy the heinous thoughts in their brains, and to feel secure within a World of Damnation, ruled by themselves.
All else, is just fodder for their twisted desires and rancid thoughts.
The Truth doesn't change. That is the way it is in Planet Sinister.
----------
Take a good long look at this photograph. It shows what is hidden behind the Moon. In this photograph, the Moon is the bright object just to the left of center, and is at a total eclipse; which allows us to see around it without being blinded by its reflective light.
I have enhanced the settings and colors of this picture, so it shows better what really is out there.
Look at the What and Where, that Planet Sinister never wants you to go to, or know about -- without their control and approval.
Look at how small and worthless -- Planet Sinister really is.
Here is a website that will show you an even better view of what I am talking about. If you have some decent photo editing programs, you can punch up the colors and contrasts of this photo. Then, you will really see what you have been missing.
http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/image/1106/2011Jun15TLEpan_tafreshi.jpg
http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/
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You should all have an Art Contest, to see how many different views of Planet Sinister the Species can come up with. I am certain, that if Real Humans are allowed to draw and paint Real Paintings and Real Illustrations of what Planet Sinister actually is -- not only will it be of Great Importance to the Real History of the Human Species (which is forbidden by the SQLD and being replaced by a pack of dung-writing swine called 'Revisionist Historians') -- but it will also serve as a 'Wake-Up Call' to those Peripheral Humans who are still hiding in the shadows and behind walls of ignorance. Still nasty around the anus, because they have diarrhea every time they think of fighting the SQLD, for any morsel or modicum of Human Freedom.
*************************
And, I do not mean the 'Moderates'. Those things are just a pack of self-pleasing, blind-to-reality (deliberately), cheeseburger-fondling (is it cheeseburger-worshipping by now?) -- 'Ass(BLEEP)s'.
*************************
NOTES:
(this is the part that some people like best)
Ironically, one way to fight Planet Sinister (and Win) is to create more business -- as in Small Business -- as in Small Businesses. Human Businesses, that NEVER allow themselves to be bought up, swallowed, chewed up and crapped out by the Corporations, Politicians, and 'Military Queers' of Planet Sinister.
Also, removal of every last cent of Wealth from the controls and claws of the Corporations, Politicians, and 'Military Queers' of Planet Sinister, will go far to force the hand and reveal the Truth about the terribleness of the Masters, their intentions towards You, and their plans for the future Planet Sinister.
There is still such a thing in existence as 'Civil Disobedience'. A 'Focused Civil Disobedience' (which you need most urgently), would search for, identify, and quarantine any and all means and avenues by which the desires and wants and feverish needs of the SQLD Masters can be pressed upon you, demanded of you, insinuated at you, suggested to you, and ridiculed at you.
Only then -- will you be fit -- to fight.
----------
The DemoCraps and Homosexual/Moderates keep saying to each other, in hopeful idiocy, that -- "He isn't going to come forward! We are safe!"
Take a look at the stupidity that is inherent in that remark.
To the Homosexual/Democrats and the Moderate/Homosexuals "Coming Forwards" means appearing on the Satan Tube -- Idiocy Number 1.
Which means that the despotic and satanic little scum-on-a-stick are still trying to tell the 'General Public' -- "If it isn't on TV, it doesn't exist." -- Idiocy Number 2.
Which also means, that they are still desperately clinging to the brainwashing which they were put through, that turned them into the 'Queers' that they are today. The programming that demands their continued obedience to and reverence of the Satan Tube, and the Demonic Masters that own and operate the Little Charlie TV Stations -- Idiocy Number 3.
What they are really saying to each other is -- "In our dips**t sewer within the Bubble of Lies, where we worship all forms of Satanic Programming and Evil Medias; that terrible Markel Peters will not come inside our dips**t Bubble of Lies. He will never upset our tummies and shock our dead brains; by telling us (in our own Bubble of Lies) that we are nothing more than s**theads inside a Bubble of Lies. In here, inside the Bubble, we are safe with our Devil Cults and Devil Worship of All Perversions."
That, is exactly what they are saying to each other. Inside the Bubble. It also reveals what is really important to their programming. I will not say "What is important to them" because nothing is important to them except what they are told is important to them, by their Masters.
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Let me tell you how it is, with myself and the idiots that still watch the Satan Tube. I care more about the hubcaps on my Impala, which I have to take off and repaint soon, then I care about all of the Satan Tubers in the Universe.
Satan Tubers are just the Damned and the Dead, and will always be Evil, Insane and Voter/Followers for the Homosexual Agenda.
Period.
To Hell With Them.
They are Basted and Pasted and Wasted, exactly as planned by the 'Queers'.
----------
One thing which those triple idiots do not and cannot understand, is that for them to move forward with their s**thead plans is itself a limited event, limited by the size of the Bubble of Lies they exist in. They can only progress forwards as far as the boundary of the Bubble, and then they have to turn around and 'move forward' in the opposite direction.
All of which only fools them, and the most stupid Voter/Followers.
And, I am shrinking the bubble anyway.
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The word 'psychopathic', must now mean anyone fooled enough or brainwashed enough to have anything to do with the 'psych' scum at the APA! 'Psych'-o-pathic!
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I hear a lot of criticism about my not playing along with the Commercial Protestors. Well, anyone who thinks in any way that the Commercial Pretenders of Human Resistance are the Genuine Article, is seriously and sadly mistaken.
However, an error of that magnitude cannot be the result of mere ignorance. Those people who think Human Resistance could, in any way, become a part of Commercialized Programming, are just empty shells of nothingness. They have no knowledge. They have no understanding. They have no experience with Real Humans. They have no idea of what this War is all about. They lack any background knowledge about what Real Humanity is. They are the empty drones of the Queer Propaganda. They are what they are supposed to be, to the SQLD. They are stupidly supposed to think that some absurdity and demented lunacy (such as Commercial Protesting), is the desired path and goal of Human Resistance. And that, there must be something wrong with Human Resistance for not trying to achieve that absurdity, and take that ridiculous path, and trying to attain a goal that even a knee-walking-drunk Human would piss on automatically.
But, don't listen to me. Just keep standing there waiting, for the train that will never arrive.
Meanwhile, I teach and cajole and calibrate as many people as I can, to what is really happening. But then, that's me -- helping people help themselves -- to their Freedom. I wish I owned all of the Freedom in the Universe. I would dish it out to all Human Beings in exactly the same quantities and qualities. But, just as soon as that was done -- all of the problems of a hugely overpopulated planet would start to rearrange and disperse those Freedoms, into different concentrations and capabilities. But still, it would be better than it is today.
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We are not even into the primary season yet -- and already USA QUEERDAY is lying about their favorite RINO/Homosexual -- Mitt Romney -- and saying it is leading in their queer polls and their rigged internal interviews.
Planet Sinister never sleeps. Because, it always stinks. In a log cabin -- with Mitt Romney -- Republican Establishment Style.
What a 'Doug Gross' thought!
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Your dreams are much more real for You, than the dogs**t that is shown on the Satan Tube Channels. That is why, You must not be allowed to have Your own dreams, according to the Homosexual Agenda. Your dreams must be a part of Your subservient existence as the subjects of Homosexual Tyranny, and as such ---
All Dreams Must Be Queer!!!!
In Demotopia!!!!
The hideous Homosexual/Democrats have spent a lot of money creating a horde of mind-fornicators, which they use to attack and queer (or kill) the minds of any Humans who resist them.
Now, You don't want to see all of that money go to waste -- do You?
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Markel Peters
http://www.voices-of-iowa.blogspot.com/
