GO THE OTHER WAY:

This IS a blogsite. A somewhat personal expression. It should contain personal experiences. So ... no one say after this, that I denied you my personal thoughts.


I just experienced this dream, and it was quite impressive to me at the time. It was a dream filled to overflowing, and being within it was like being inside a bubbling paint can; with all sorts of colors and items flowing out of it and over the rim, to disappear from my sight. And yet, as you will learn, there was very much left in the paint can with me, to occupy my attention.


I will try to account for the central theme of it, as best as I can remember.


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Before I begin, I would like to tell those two SQLD analysts (and their uncle's monkeys) that this was truly a dream. It was not dreamed as a commentary, nor is it a commentary disguised as a dream. My dreams often explore the Truth. It is not written as an attempt to reveal more about the SQLD. If the dream did so, that it what it did. I am literally writing what happened. Nothing more.


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Consider the Man. Consider the Audience. Consider the Dream.


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It began with music. A song which slowly faded into my hearing. It first appeared in its MIDI version, which is very close to the original except without the words. I had heard the song before, but until I researched the song after this dream, I had never known the words to it.


It first sailed into the dream as an LP. A bright and shining black vinyl record of 33 rpm size, that wheeled and spun as it floated into the dream from a far distance off to my upper left. It floated and sailed slowly through the dream several times, casually passing through anything and everything. And then, with complete indifference, it floated out of the dream exit Stage Right. I think that once, it had the words to it. But, the rest of the time it was the MIDI tone version.


It was never loud, or even central to the sounds of the dream. Instead it was always a faded memory. A whisper at times, a rush of departure at others, but always half muted. When I awoke, I remembered the tune and went through my MIDI collection searching for it. It is called 'Englishman In New York', and the original version is sung by 'Sting'. All of which amounts to very little, as you will learn.


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The dream started with Claude Rains leaning down at me, with that mischievous smile of his, and saying (in his best Porter's Style) -- "And, are we having a good evening? Mr. King?"


Let us look at some photographs of Claude, so we all know who I am talking about. Then, we can forget him again, until he reappears in the dream.

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There were women in this dream, but they kept flitting in and out of the action like Ingrid Bergman, at a Casablanca dress shop sale. They were always the objects of some romantic attention; like gypsy dancers leaping in and out of the scenes to briefly catch my attention. If I reached for them, they danced back out of the dream. Soon, they gave it up as the action intensified.


I was in a dark castle of very tall height. It had so many floors to it that I doubted if there was any way to count them all; or if it would be allowed. At this point in the dream there was a large staircase involved, which ascended to God Knows Where. Indeed, the unlit depths of the castle seemed to be filled with moving stars, as though bright stars had been thrown into a dark chocolate ice cream mixture before it was finished, frozen, and packaged.


This was not enough to brighten the interior of the castle, but it did add a lot of ambiance to the staircase decor. The stairway was quite visible to me, reaching always upwards and out of sight. Where the light came from for this was way beyond me, but the staircase was illuminated well enough; and naturally the higher I went the lighter matters became, ever so slowly. The stairs would rise in forty steps, and then level off for a few yards, and then start to rise again; always in one direction directly away from me. There was no sense of other directions, such as North or West.


I was intent upon repairing something in the wall of the staircase, along its right side. The staircase did not have sides, except wherever I became determined to repair something.


I would pull a laser tool out of my tool belt, and zap at a small speck in the wall right next to me. Then, a panel would recede from the wall and slide sideways; to reveal an intricate network of fiber optic cables inside, with many attending small lights of different colors. Having achieved access to the problem area, I would then stick my face into the open space, illuminate everything with my iridescent eyeballs, and look closely at the many optical cables and circuit boards inside. This always scared the bejiggers out of them, and they began to work properly, immediately.


I would then lean back away from the wall, pull on my left earlobe which turned my lights off, and the wall would cease to exist as I turned and began to walk up the staircase again. As I ascended, it appeared to me that I was also walking on the other side of the wall; a wall which was either not there, or was completely transparent.


I looked to my right, and there I saw an identical staircase, with myself slowly walking up the steps. Except, I was dressed as a character in one of my novels. I then got the definite impression that there was indeed something material between us, and I reached out towards my other self with my right hand. My hand hit something; something that was transparent to such an extent that it could not be seen.


As soon as that happened, I heard a voice say -- "These are very serious matters, your 'Sire'."


I turned to see who had said it, and I found Claude Rains standing about eight feet from me in a room that verily dripped of nineteenth century Muscovite/French furniture, and expensive draperies and gas lighting chandeliers. The colors of the room were mostly deep felt and velvet red, with a lavish amount of gold trimming; and for a moment I thought we were in the private car of a Russian Railroad President. Then, I realized we were in a room along the left side of the great staircase.


Claude Rains was trying to tell me something, and it seemed to be important from his mannerisms, but I got sidetracked by a Gypsy Dancer who tried to pull me back out to the staircase, with her dress. She wrapped it around me and tried to pull me away, but I was intent upon something else in the room. She disappeared, as I stepped into the room and went to a rosewood table in the middle of the floor. The table had a dark purple linen cloth on it, and upon that sat a piece of glass that was shaped like a small rectangle; about two inches by two inches by six inches. The edges of the glass object were rounded, but the entire surface had a strange coarseness to it, like glass sandpaper. It was transparent until I picked it up. Somehow, I knew just how to hold it, and once it had registered my fingerprints it began to light up inside. As this happened the Time and Space before it, wherever it was pointed, began to ripple and shift, and shimmer and change.


I put it back down on the table, quickly. I then returned to the stairway, and began to climb again. I looked to my right to see my other self, but instead I saw myself as though in a mirrored staircase wall. I was wearing a tuxedo, complete with spit-shinned shoes and a white dress shirt. In a kind of opaque manner, I could see my other self beyond. He was walking up the staircase, matching every step which I took. He was loading bullets into a large stainless steel revolver.


I turned back to look up the staircase, and I walked into a large room that was complicated by many tall columns imbedded into its walls, like half-relief roman columns all along its perimeter. The room was floored in white marble tiles, real ones, and there was no furniture in it. The walls were colorless, as though displayed in black-and-white (or greyscale), but the upper heights of the room were a marvel of golden ceiling architecture, as though I was in a Montreal cathedral.


I walked up to the walls, and began to puzzle my brain about how to solve their problems. The columns needed rearranging, and it had to be done in the right order. I was involved in this, and remembering a sequence of codes which I had used long ago for just such a situation, when I heard a voice again -- "They will be here shortly, Your 'Sire'."


I turned away from the wall, to see Claude Rains walking across the room towards me. He was now dressed in a black suit, as though he had once been a military man. He looked as though he had decided to continue to wear his black uniform, without any emblems or badges of rank, to which he had added a black cape. It made him look the rogue, and yet the professor at the same time. His hair was now quite white, long and combed back upon his head. He sported a short white beard, and mustache neatly trimmed. He wore a white collar beneath the cape, which seemed to accent his head. His clothing was polished black however, from shoes to collar. He was never a very tall man, but this attire made him seem taller.


I started to hear arguing. I could hear men discussing something, and not agreeing. Somehow, I knew the answer to their problems, and I went out onto the stairs again to find them and tell them. I walked up the stairway again, and rooms appeared along its sides, set into walls that I had never seen before. No room had a door, so I walked into each one as I came to it; because I could hear the arguing. Every time I entered a room, the arguing went away and became loud again in the next room; which was always on the opposite side of the staircase. I zig-zagged up the stairs from room to room for a while, never able to find the men who were talking.


I stopped, and looked to my right again to see if my other self was visible. He was standing looking at me, with a dead antelope draped over his right shoulder. The silver revolver was smoking from its barrel, in his left hand.


I thought of the glass object again. As soon as I did, many side staircases appeared, all of which molded themselves into the grand staircase. Then a lot of corridors appeared, all leading sideways away from the grand staircase. All of them had arched ceilings, and were so long that their lengths disappeared into the distance on any side.


I was determined to get back to that glass object however, so I started to look for a red and gold room as I descended the stairway. As I stepped downwards, the staircase led right into the same lavishly appointed room that I had been in before; only this time the stairs ran right through the room and continued downwards.


I walked to the small rosewood table, and picked up the glass object. As soon as it read my fingerprints, it began to glow and shine outwards with many lights of different colors. Then, I turned and looked upwards along the rising staircase. From far above there had been a sound, like the blowing of a distant horn. A horn made of horn, not metal.


I looked back down at the glass object in my right hand. I pointed it at the far right wall. I aimed it at a spot in the upper left center of the wall. There, amidst the red and gold patterns of the wallpaper, appeared a large circle about five feet in diameter. Its inner circumference was ridged, as though to accept a gear wheel, but there was none. Through the circular space in the wall, I could see another world. Another Planet Earth.


I became gripped in an intense feeling that a choice had to be made. While I was so occupied, the far left wall of the room became filled with large glass windows. The room then took on the appearance of a curio shop, filled with shelves containing antiques and books and lamps, puppets and toy drums and so forth; except for a large space near the windows at the left wall. I had to walk through the shelves to reach this space, holding the glass object in my hand.


As I reached the space, I noticed that the windows were taller than they were wide, and they were held together in place by strong vertical beams of hardwood walnut. Through those windows I could clearly see a vast throng of people, all of whom were either in a hurry or standing looking confused. The hurried ones were variously tromping along the street with loads on their backs, alone and with bitter looks; or marching in groups for the protection of numbers; or driving cattle drawn wagons and horse drawn carriages -- all going from my right to my left in the scene.


They looked decidedly European, perhaps slavic and teutonic. There was no monopoly of body types, facial patterns or class definitions. They were, at a glance, an emergency blend of everyone and everything; somehow molded together into a great moving throng of Humanity, as only great adversity can forge.


Claude Rains appeared again to my right. He was still dressed in black, with his white collar, his black cape and his white hair. This time he was quite agitated. He was quite surprised to see me standing there. With his arms up in the air, and the fingers of his hands stretched apart in warning, he shouted -- "No, You Fool! This is Dresden!"


Instantly, the windows before me flashed, and became almost nonexistent due to an enormous white light that burst through them. As I closed my eyes, I was aware that there should be a shock wave, and everything (including myself) should no longer exist -- but instead I could see, through my closed eyelids, that the light just changed into a cacophony of orange, yellow and red explosions.


I opened my eyes again to see the windows, and the left wall, standing undamaged and immune to the carnage that was occurring outside. But, the sight remained. The wide and cobblestoned street beyond the windows had been filled with immigrants and refugees, and beasts of burden, and the people of Dresden -- when the Fire Storm began. Now, the carts were torn to pieces and smashed about in enormous bursts of flames. Body parts pelted the windows, and smeared the glass dark red for brief seconds; and then the intense searing heat evaporated even that. Inside the maelstrom, there were still people running on fire. In places there were bellies and legs alone, running without upper torsos. Horses exploded, and then evaporated. The buildings on the other side of the street burst apart, showering everything with bricks and mortar and wood chips; but this all evaporated in the impossible storm, before it could reach the windows in front of me.


There was no sound -- except that of Claude Rains. He was standing quite still, about ten feet to my right. He was looking ahead of himself, as if alone and commenting to the Angels about Earthly Matters. The fire storm raged just outside the windows, and I could see both Claude Rains, and the gruesome reality. Smashed faces appeared at intervals, pressed up against the windows with incredible force, and then burning into cinders quickly. Sometimes, only a hand or a shoe, or a purse, or the back of a naked baby would hit the windows; and then explode as if consumed by an atomic rage. Still, there were people running and flailing about in the fires outside. Most of them either fell into burning red heaps; or became torches, white hot in the orange and red fireball.


The street itself buckled and heaved from the ripple effects of the bomb blasts, tossing more refugees, fallen oxen, headless bodies, and bodiless heads upwards; to flash brightly like match heads in the blood-red and white-orange mixture. Everything turned and churned with terrible force, the street being repeatedly painted with blood which was immediately seared off and stone polished again, by another landing death blow from above.


As it all proceeded, he spoke in a detached monotone. "Dresden -- 13th February 1945. 2,431 tons of high explosive bombs. 1,475 tons of incendiary bombs are dropped onto the city of Dresden. Filled with refugees fleeing the advancing Red Tide of the Soviet Armies, that are driving westwards. There is little military importance to the city, it is incinerated for a show of force and revenge. To impress Joseph Stalin with the 'Allied Might', and to revenge the bombing of English cities. The death toll exceeds 100,000 -- all removed from existence completely."


I stood there, bathed in bursts of incendiary lights, and watched his figure slowly fade out of existence. In my right hand, the glass object began to glow more brightly, as if in competition with the hellish flames outside. Something hit the windows. It looked for a few brief seconds like the back of an old woman, clad in an old brown coat with a blue scarf over her head, who had been opening a door, perhaps to flee from the street. Now, the old woman and the doorway and the door hit the windows together. They then flared up into a cloud mass of white particles, which the fire storm immediately gathered to itself. This was whisked away, and added to the hurricane of flames and fumes, as more bombs fell outside. It all began to become Death Surreal.


I turned away from the windows, and stepped past the shelves to the far right wall again. Through the wide hole in that wall I could see a different world, another Earth. A horn, made of horn, sounded again somewhere above me; far above and away on the great stairway.


I quickly dove upwards, and through the opening. I landed upon a grassy field, almost a lawn, of great proportions. It was scattered with islands of deciduous forests, and the occasional dark blue pool, which was surrounded by a beltway of flowers. The lawn was quite green, and across it was a wide golden road of crushed gold.


That is where the familiarity ended, however. All about this place there vibrated a feeling of unexpectedness, and chance, and risk, and a wideness of uncertainty. This was reinforced, when I looked above me and stared in disbelief into a dark sky of star fields, very close and unaffected by any atmospheric effects. I literally thought that if I reached up, I would touch a star. Or, at least get noticed by it.


I turned back to see that the wall was still there, and the opening was still there. I could see the room on the other side, and the stairway running through it at an angle. The far windows were still ablaze with livid explosions.


I looked upwards again, and this time I noticed that the stars were slowly turning, as if they were affixed to a huge celestial wheel, that I was standing just beyond the edge of. There was a chill up there, and very close, but I was feeling none of that. Instead, I was sensing a keenness of energy, as though someone had plugged the prongs of my shoes into a recharge outlet.


I turned again, and walked out onto the grass fields towards the golden road. At this, there appeared from my left, as though coming over a very near horizon, a lady driving a carriage with two appaloosa horses before her. She did not see me, that was apparent. She, and the horses and the carriage came along the road at sort of a half-speed trot. They were like a seamless video, that was all around me, but it was set for slow motion at half-speed. I concentrated on her face. She looked very much like a young and blond-haired Ingrid Bergman. She was dressed in a richly made dark green riding outfit, with a green coat topped by a high collar in white. All of the trim of her clothing was white.


She never saw me, nor did the horses as they passed right before me. The horses were talking about horse racing and looking ahead, while she was looking upwards and to her left, with a broad smile on her red lips. She had bright white teeth, but it was her expression that struck me. She was looking into her skies with a wide-eyed happiness and contentment with what she was doing, and where she was going, and where she was.


She belonged here. But, here was definitely alien. She was alien. She was happy, but everything was Other Earth. I, on the contrary, had a growing feeling of being in the wrong place, or at least in need of a lot of adjustments. She drove on past me, and I watched her for a moment, then noticed that I was still dressed in a Tuxedo. I was rife to quip that my cane and hat were missing, but then something caught my eyes. Away from me and ahead of me, by about three hundred yards, was a tall wall of grey stones covered partly with green vines. It was nestled into a space between two groves of tall broad-leafed trees. As such, it was shaded from the stars above. But, there was a bright spot in it. The bright spot caught my attention, because of its contrast to the rest of the wall.


As happens in dreams, I covered the space to the wall quite quickly, and then I was standing some six feet before it. Mid-center in the wall's mass was a large opening, with a toothed inner circumference, about five feet wide. Through it, I could see a fascinating three-dimensional view of the interior of some unknown Galaxy. Nebula’s vied with Supernovas and Pulsars for the eye's attention, in a sweeping grandeur of universal colors; and with an attention to detail that was very impressive. This happens from time to time in our lives, as we get so adjusted and complacent to the daily items and events of our existence; and then something surprising and sharp happens, and we are both startled and amazed that our eyes really can see that well.


There was no doubt about it. A Galaxy, that I had never seen before, was just on the other side of that opening. I could not see anything on the near side, however. Where would I land, if I jumped in?


The question never got answered, as I was suddenly back inside the red and gold room from French Moscow. Claude Rains was gone, and the windows on the far left side were now black, swirling black.


I was at a Choosing Point, and I knew it. I looked through the opening in the right wall again. There was no sight of the green fields and forests of the Other Earth. Instead, I was in a room on the other side, identical to this one. There, Claude Rains was standing in the center of the floor, and I was sitting in a red chair, hunched over and staring at a dead antelope on the rug between myself and Claude Rains. I had a steel revolver in my belt, and I was looking down as he spoke.


I could not hear what he said in there, but I heard what he was saying to me in here. I turned, and Claude Rains was standing next to me, pointing at the colorful glass object in my right hand. I could not make out his words, but the meaning was becoming clear. Violence was a valuable commodity to moderate masters. Moderation was always a failure. Moderation always tries to appease. Moderation tried to appease National Socialism. Now, and he looked at the churning clouds of darkness outside the windows, this was necessary. I was welcome, under conditions. I was being given a choice. I could stay here, or jump again -- this time forever.


He explained that here, there was moderation and all of the absurdities and excesses that went with it. He motioned towards the windows, as he spoke. I could stay here, but I would have to repair everything; and moderation was always destroying everything at the same time. The columns of sanity were completely broken and awry because of violent cowardice, and would never be properly aligned again.


But, on the other side there was the complete unknown. And, he emphasized, I was not from there. My chances at survival were completely unknown. Did I not feel the difference?


I was still simmering from the effects of the vibrations on the other side, and it was like an electricity running through my veins. More charged, and on a different frequency than I was used to. There was literally nothing that I could expect on the other side. Whatever was there, I would become.


I stepped to the opening in the wall, and looked through it at my other self. He was going to stay. He said that he knew how to deal with the mazes of moderation. He would survive, and adapt. From his chair he said, in a beaten voice -- "Ich bin ein moderate."


I could not help myself. I shouted through the opening at him -- "And, I suppose you are a jelly-filled donut too!"


I did not agree with his surrender. I understood what it meant, an existence instead of a consciousness. But, I had more life than that and I had gotten a glimpse, however brief, of something far more incredible and greater than this side possessed. Compared to it, despite the feeling of sheer alien existence, nothing here was worth staying for.


I turned to the right wall, and raised the glass object up before me. I pointed it at the opening in the wall, and saw it flash brightly. Then, I saw a dark movement coming at me from my left side, and I ...


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Markel Peters
http://www.voices-of-iowa.blogspot.com/

A MIDDLE-MANAGER SELF DESTRUCTS:

Grandma can read this. After a few beers.


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Recently, I wrote about an appalling suicide that I witnessed; by a semi-dead ModoRat, that watched a Satan Tube and died.


WATCH TV -- LOSE ALL!


Now, another crazy happening has occurred. However, this time it is something to celebrate.


I just saw a Middle-Manager, for the Satanic and Queer Lying-Dead, break down and go insane.


While this is great and wonderful news for the Human Species, we must pause for a while and examine the Why's and How's of its demise; so that we may reproduce such excellence again and again.


Currently, the Queer Propaganda Machine is spewing out yet another sewer load of phony stupidity, about HObama the Magnificent Pervert, in an ad nauseum attempt to make that Black Clown appear to be some kind of leader. All of the queer newsrags have been ordered to put the Super Queer (HObama) on their front toilet roll pages. Only, the Queer Propagandists know that everyone who is still Sane, will just wipe the asses of their pets with such trash -- which works well with kitty litter, and in the bottom of bird cages by the way.


So, the Queer Propagandists have also ordered their Middle-Managers to perform a vaudeville routine of laughter. The playtime this time, is to get all of the (mentally-challenged) persons, that follow each Middle-Manager, to laugh. The idea is to act as though the FACT that they are just as 'Queer' as the perverts which they (the Middle-Managers) made into 'Queers', is ridiculous and must be laughed about loudly.


The hope is that loud laughter will destroy any Truth that their followers may have heard. So, they laugh. But first, they get their followers to be in bunches. Bunches of followers, and of stooges who are already in on the game. Then as a group, they laugh about the idea that they too are 'Queers'. This Group Laughter, is meant to make the followers in the bunch laugh along with them. The hope being that the idiots will somehow forget that Middle-Managers are Queer-Makers-For-Hire.


Makers. As in Rape and Sodomy.


However, even the worst Middle-Managers of the SQLD are feeling the pinch of Reality, as Human Resistance increases. One reason for this, is that of their total reliance upon the Satanic Medias, the Satan Tube in particular. Being the Satan Tube, the entire Universe is weighing in against it, for the total insanity and sickness that it is. Any reliance upon the TV Medias is therefore doomed to failure. This unstoppable demise is slowly and steadily bearing down upon the Middle-Managers, and their twisted games. The Middle-Managers are trapped, and caught in a vise of their own making. They relied upon the pretended powers of social-programming, that the Owners and Operators of the Satanic Channels claimed to have. Now, those dirty and hideous brainwashing tactics are being dismantled and torn apart.


And with it, goes the hopes and vile plans of the Middle-Managers of Total Disaster.


I was at a factory in Des Moines yesterday. There I saw a Satanic Middle-Manager go completely insane.


It was trying to follow the orders that it had been given. It was trying to put on a comic act for a bunch of followers, assisted by some supporting players. But, as soon as it began to laugh -- it lost control. From within its doomed brain, came a screeching and coughing laughter from 'Death's Row'.


It began to sputter out words. It could not finish a lie. It laughed uncontrollably. It gyrated spasmodically. It's lies and script broke up into unrelated sentences of DemoCrap catch phrases. It shook its head uncontrollably. For all the World, it acted like a robot with a broken control program. Finally, it gave up and left the group, because it had become the object of its own intended laughter. It was become -- Death.


I knew the place was Satanic anyway. Inside the factory were TV machines that showed the Talking Turds of the Crackheads and Nasty Neuters (CNN); a 100 % guarantee that the place is dominated by the Satanic and Queer Lying-Dead.


By the way, don't worry about the Middle-Managers being offended by this. The DemoCraps have ordered (long ago) that all loyal subjects will never read anything which the Human Resistance writes about the Truth. Instead, all loyal subjects of DemoTopia are supposed to do everything that they can -- such as attacks, threats, lies, insinuations, thefts, murders (etc) -- to prevent any more messages from being put out by any Human Resister.


And, that makes perfect sense. Doesn't it?


If you are a Satanic Master, and there are messages being put on the Internet about how horrible you are; you will not want any of the idiots and fools, who follow your orders, to read the Truth about you!


Instead, you will demand that the Humans who make the Messages of Truth be destroyed ...


But! -- Your Followers Must Not Read The Truth In The Process!!!!


BY ALL MEANS, AND NO MATTER WHAT ELSE HAPPENS -- YOUR VOTER/FOLLOWERS MUST NOT READ THE TRUTH ABOUT YOU -- THEIR MASTER!!!!!!!!!!


Simple.


And, on the average DemoCrap or ModoRat -- it works.


It would never work on any living animal with an IQ over 40 .. but let's not talk about excesses of Un-wanted Intelligence here. Let's not change the subject. Even though, that is the subject.


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For their part of this latest Queer Propaganda Effort -- the 'Queer' Filthy Monkeys are putting out twisted songs that say -- "Hold onto what we got! We got a lot!" This is being done, because they know that they are going to lose the last pretenses of DemoCrap control over the country, this year.


"We got a lot!" means -- a lot of trained liars, brain-dead followers, 'Queers', Queer Masters, dying Middle-Managers, sewer TV Channels, deranged and horrible Filthy Monkeys, sick and sinister newsrags, Phony Laws created by criminal politician-prostitutes (and their dirty tricks), punk puppets playing Occupation Games, and so filth.


What they have a lot of -- is a Mountain Of Dung -- created by themselves to serve as the maggot-ridden Foundations of DemoTopia.


But, DemoTopia can only happen if they dominate.


Also, with the maggots inside their foundations going insane from continued playacting without success, DemoTopia is beginning to list and slow down; like a Sewage Tanker in Boston Harbor that has been torpedoed.


Adding to the list, and lisp, is the panic that is setting in amongst those Voter/Followers of the Demos/Homos/Modos who are uncertain about their 'future'; without the daily addictions and lies of the Queer Propagandists of DemoTopia.


They are getting 'The Jones' really bad.


Well, there will always be 'DemoDope-ia'; for the dying Dopes and Fools of the former Dogshit Empire.


In a word of scant encouragement to such Demo Dopes -- this same thing happened to the followers of the Nazis, after the Fall of the Third Reich.


Most of which are dead now, and no longer feel the pain.


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Not unaware of their own dilemma, the Middle-Managers (on orders of course) are trying to focus the attention of their suffering 'Queers' and followers, which they made themselves, back upon the Satanic TV Channels. For two reasons:


1. To divert the pain of continued lunacy, which their minions are feeling, into another feverish dependency and addiction to the same old hideous Little Charlie Dictators, and their Little Charlie TV Stations. Which are paying big bucks for this brainwashing effort.


2. To make out of their own failures, and out of the rampant insanities which they have unleashed amongst the populace, a Showcase Event on TV. In other words, to get their sex toys and followers addicted to the Fall of the Satan Tube, by showing how crazy and insane the Satan Tubers get as their God (TV) falls.


It is literally a case of mad dogs, being addicted to watching other mad dogs eat other mad dogs.


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Do Not Ever -- Ask Me Again -- To Prove The Existence Of Planet Sinister.


It is right there, on TV.


But, do NOT watch that trash!


They want you to watch their trash. Get it?


All that matters to them -- is that you watch their sickness. They are like lunatics with webcams on the web, that want you to watch them having diarrhea.


And of course, YOU do not matter. Only your Money and your Votes matter.


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What happens, if such brain-wormed psychopaths go out into the Galaxy, and invade another planet that has Real Intelligent Life on it?


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What the queered song of the Filthy Monkeys should say is -- "Hang on! Hang on! Hang on! To what we AIN'T GOT!"


Which brings to the forefront the eternal question -- "How did so many freaks and lunatics get the notion that they could create a World of Psychopathy for themselves; that was based upon nothing more than the fabrications of their own swined brains; and expect Real People to obey its queered laws and queered judges and queered politicians?"


Aside from the obvious fact, that such a huge looney bin as that would be a Psycho-Heaven to any member of the Anuses, Perverts and Alchemists (APA) ...


Where did such craziness come from?


Answer: At some point, some slime ball, that was licking boots for a living, got a sick idea. The sick idea said -- that if it told everybody that it was better than what it really is, there might be someone else who was better than it is, but was still stupid enough to believe what the 'boot licker' said.


Then, the 'boot licker' could tell the 'idiot' that it should be licking the 'boot lickers' boots instead. Being an 'idiot' (and a coward of course), the moderate imbecile traded places with the 'boot licker', and began to lick its boots. Now, the 'boot licker' was dominant over the 'idiot'.


That started it all!


The basis for Role-Reversal and Truth-Reversal was born!!


And now -- there is TV, FM, and the queer newsrags!!!


Now, any liar can be a Resident in the White House -- if it can convince enough People (who will forever be better than it is), that they should all be licking its boots!!!!


Taa Daa! The concept of a Puppet President is born!!!!


A Liar and Convincer For Hire!!!!


And that, Boys and Girls, is also how the Democrat Party became the DemoCrap Party. The crap inside, told the Democrats that they should be the crap, and then the Crap took over.


Taa Daa! The DemoCraps are born!!!!


----------


Technically, this all represents the Degeneration and Decline of a Society. From such an advanced stage of decrepitude and decay (as DemoTopia is), there are really only two roads left. To Two Futures.


A. AMORGIDA -- A MORGUE IDEAL -- for the 'Queers'. The 'Queers' slavering and drooling idea of a 'Queer Empire', existing on the bones and ashes and slag heaps of a failed DemoTopia. Planet Sinister is not Sinister Enough, for the 'Queers'.


B. Human Revolution. After which comes Real Life again, on a Real World again.


Choosing, however, is strictly a Human Function. The 'Queers' do not have minds that can choose anything. 'Queers' are locked down, into permanent addictions and mindless cravings for more and more perversions, and acts of violence against anything that is Natural.


The 'Choosing' has to be done by Humans. And thus, the Final Choice becomes:


1. To Fight. To Revolt. To Defeat all Evils.


2. To Cower. To Moderate. To Cringe. To Smile and Obey.


*************************


Markel Peters
http://www.voices-of-iowa.blogspot.com/

THE INTERNET BLACKOUT OF JANUARY 18, 2012.

Freya DawnBringer

When I think of the importance of what happened on January 18, 2012 -- I think of this painting by Boris. Boris Vallejo.


We have literally been delivered out of a Terrible Darkness of 'Queer' and DemoCrap Tyranny.


*************************


While the Jackals of Wisconsin pretend to have a revolution, meant to frighten everyone outside of Wisconsin, at the cost of Wisconsin of course -- and mount another insipid recall event there -- which is one of the major reasons why Madison is now such a cesspool of Deviates and Left Wing Radical Extremists ...


THE REST OF US HAVE JUST WITNESSED A REAL REVOLUTIONARY MINI-EVENT.


Which, of course, kicked ass on all of the Deviates and Left Wing Radical Extremists -- as every Real Revolution must and will do so.


For unless it destroys DemoTopia, Planet Sinister, and scum like the mobs of DemoCrap Swine in Madison, Wisconsin ...


IT CANNOT BE A REAL REVOLUTIONARY EVENT.


-----


Such is the self-chosen fate of all DemoCraps, ModoRats, and so-called Homosexuals everywhere.


Pretenses and fakeries of mass absurdity (such as the perennial stupidities of Wisconsin Politics) can not, and never will, convince anyone that anything which the slime balls of the Satanic and Queer Lying-Dead ever do will be a Real Revolution.


We have just seen a year of Absurd Losers, parading as SQLD Occupation Forces, and pretending to be some kind of spontaneous grassroots revolt against Big Business.


Quite easily, everyone else knows that this is just a transparent playtime of DemoCrap Gutter Trash, swept up out of the sewers and put out onto the streets, as The Great DemoCrap Revolution.


During which, I did fall asleep many times -- as did everyone else.


Now, those Paid Rats are 'Nesting For The Winter', and pretending to plan for Victory in 2012. Or, such are the orders from the DemoCraps who are financing them. Next year's orders will stress violent confrontations, as their Dipshit Leader has already confessed.


http://www.wnd.com/2012/01/soros-occupy-to-turn-violent/
Lying Soros -- Occupation Forces Punk


As they are, and always have been, they are nothing more than a Political Weapon to cause chaos and anarchy amongst the 'General Public' (which no longer exists) -- and to give everyone who is stupid, foolish and gullible the impression (and panic) that there is something very wrong with the country (and its Republican Leadership) -- and to convince everyone that they must rally around the Super Queer HObama, and vote that pansy back into the White House for another four years.


I am an Historian, so I know how many times this very same stupid maneuver has been attempted in the past -- both here in American History and in European History -- and I have lost count.


It is a standard political operating procedure, which usually does not work -- and when it does, as with Hitler's Brown Shirts, and with Tojo's Thought Police (both of which led to WWII) -- it creates horrendous and grotesque Regimes of Tyranny and anti-Humanity. During which, the very same Playtime Revolutionary Performers (such as the stooges of the current Occupation Forces) are chopped up and ground into bloody meat, by the police and military forces which are then unleashed by the very same Masters. A most unpleasant disposal procedure -- following the same standard political operating procedure -- which, upon being successful, gives unrivaled control of the country to the Masters which financed the chaos forces to begin with.


I mean -- Good God! It is such an incredibly well known political maneuver, that the first three episodes of Star Wars are based upon it!!!!


The Stupid Occupation Forces of today, are a liability later; and will grease the treads of the SQLD tanks later; having served their intentionally short-term requirements of getting HObama the Super Queer re-elected. Lunatics have a built-in expiration date, even to Political Prostitutes as vile as the DemoCraps.


Nothing could make this fact more obvious than the orders (from The SQLD Masters) to attack the business area called Wall Street in Nude Yack City -- rather than the SQLD area, in the same city, called Madison Avenue.


All of which makes one wonder -- "How the **** did I get onto a Planet from Hell, like this?"


-----


I am now searching for Wisconsin toilet paper. I look at the labels on the toilet paper packages, to see if any are made in Wisconsin.


-----


For those of you who are new to the Truth, or are having a hard time trying to figure out what this is really all about -- since we are often talking about details and the absurdities of our enemies here -- please go to the bottom of this message, where I have provided a simple explanation of the latest DemoCrap crap.


*************************


I have included 34 websites here that explain SOPA and PIPA, and the Wikipedia Blackout. If that is not enough information, for anyone to understand what is really happening here -- then they should go back to bed -- and hope that the Thought Police of the Demos/Homos/Modos do not pull their tongues out while they sleep.


Usually, I would explain things in an article like this -- but this is Truly an Internet Situation -- so I will let these Internet Articles explain it to you.


All that I ask -- is that everyone who reads this message will download the full web pages of all of these sites -- for the Permanent Human Library. Which all Modos/Homos/Demos hate.


*************************


The day before the Blackout, Wikipedia offered this explanation:


To: English Wikipedia Readers and Community
From: Sue Gardner, Wikimedia Foundation Executive Director
Date: January 16, 2012


Today, the Wikipedia community announced its decision to black out the English-language Wikipedia for 24 hours, worldwide, beginning at 05:00 UTC on Wednesday, January 18 (you can read the statement from the Wikimedia Foundation here). The blackout is a protest against proposed legislation in the United States – the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) in the U.S. House of Representatives, and the PROTECT IP Act (PIPA) in the U.S. Senate – that, if passed, would seriously damage the free and open Internet, including Wikipedia.


This will be the first time the English Wikipedia has ever staged a public protest of this nature, and it’s a decision that wasn’t lightly made. Here’s how it’s been described by the three Wikipedia administrators who formally facilitated the community’s discussion. From the public statement, signed by User:NuclearWarfare, User:Risker and User:Billinghurst:


It is the opinion of the English Wikipedia community that both of these bills, if passed, would be devastating to the free and open web.
Over the course of the past 72 hours, over 1800 Wikipedians have joined together to discuss proposed actions that the community might wish to take against SOPA and PIPA. This is by far the largest level of participation in a community discussion ever seen on Wikipedia, which illustrates the level of concern that Wikipedians feel about this proposed legislation. The overwhelming majority of participants support community action to encourage greater public action in response to these two bills. Of the proposals considered by Wikipedians, those that would result in a "blackout" of the English Wikipedia, in concert with similar blackouts on other websites opposed to SOPA and PIPA, received the strongest support.
On careful review of this discussion, the closing administrators note the broad-based support for action from Wikipedians around the world, not just from within the United States. The primary objection to a global blackout came from those who preferred that the blackout be limited to readers from the United States, with the rest of the world seeing a simple banner notice instead. We also noted that roughly 55% of those supporting a blackout preferred that it be a global one, with many pointing to concerns about similar legislation in other nations.


In making this decision, Wikipedians will be criticized for seeming to abandon neutrality to take a political position. That’s a real, legitimate issue. We want people to trust Wikipedia, not worry that it is trying to propagandize them.


But although Wikipedia’s articles are neutral, its existence is not. As Wikimedia Foundation board member Kat Walsh wrote on one of our mailing lists recently,
We depend on a legal infrastructure that makes it possible for us to operate. And we depend on a legal infrastructure that also allows other sites to host user-contributed material, both information and expression. For the most part, Wikimedia projects are organizing and summarizing and collecting the world’s knowledge. We’re putting it in context, and showing people how to make to sense of it.


But that knowledge has to be published somewhere for anyone to find and use it. Where it can be censored without due process, it hurts the speaker, the public, and Wikimedia. Where you can only speak if you have sufficient resources to fight legal challenges, or if your views are pre-approved by someone who does, the same narrow set of ideas already popular will continue to be all anyone has meaningful access to.


The decision to shut down the English Wikipedia wasn’t made by me; it was made by editors, through a consensus decision-making process. But I support it.


Like Kat and the rest of the Wikimedia Foundation Board, I have increasingly begun to think of Wikipedia’s public voice, and the goodwill people have for Wikipedia, as a resource that wants to be used for the benefit of the public. Readers trust Wikipedia because they know that despite its faults, Wikipedia’s heart is in the right place. It’s not aiming to monetize their eyeballs or make them believe some particular thing, or sell them a product. Wikipedia has no hidden agenda: it just wants to be helpful.


That’s less true of other sites. Most are commercially motivated: their purpose is to make money. That doesn’t mean they don’t have a desire to make the world a better place – many do! – but it does mean that their positions and actions need to be understood in the context of conflicting interests.


My hope is that when Wikipedia shuts down on January 18, people will understand that we’re doing it for our readers. We support everyone’s right to freedom of thought and freedom of expression. We think everyone should have access to educational material on a wide range of subjects, even if they can’t pay for it. We believe in a free and open Internet where information can be shared without impediment. We believe that new proposed laws like SOPA and PIPA, and other similar laws under discussion inside and outside the United States, don’t advance the interests of the general public. You can read a very good list of reasons to oppose SOPA and PIPA here, from the Electronic Frontier Foundation.


Why is this a global action, rather than US-only? And why now, if some American legislators appear to be in tactical retreat on SOPA?


The reality is that we don’t think SOPA is going away, and PIPA is still quite active. Moreover, SOPA and PIPA are just indicators of a much broader problem. All around the world, we’re seeing the development of legislation intended to fight online piracy, and regulate the Internet in other ways, that hurt online freedoms. Our concern extends beyond SOPA and PIPA: they are just part of the problem. We want the Internet to remain free and open, everywhere, for everyone.


On January 18, we hope you’ll agree with us, and will do what you can to make your own voice heard.


*************************


I have been talking to people since this Victory for the Human Species -- and I have noticed that there are some People who are independent thinkers and very Human; but they are only faintly aware of what has just happened. They are not really involved in Human Freedoms yet, even though they would have no freedoms at all, if we were not fighting the Modos/Homos/Demos and winning.


This is why I ask all of my readers to 'talk up' this Victory. Do not allow the 'Common Morass' and the 'Public Malaise' to lessen and obscure what has been achieved here. Nor, should we allow the Queer Propagandists to twist and pervert the facts -- so that it appears as though they had anything to do with this Human Victory, other than being the Dogshit Empire that was the villain here.


----------


These websites are about SOPA, but in the process they explain everything.


http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970203735304577167261853938938.html
What Is SOPA-1


http://www.pcworld.com/article/248298/sopa_and_pipa_just_the_facts.html
What Is SOPA-2


http://www.techshortly.com/2011/12/what-is-sopa-and-how-it-works.html
What Is SOPA-3


http://www.aroundhawaii.com/lifestyle/lifestyle/2012-01-what-is-sopa.html
What Is SOPA-4


http://corporatelaw.jdsupra.com/post/12324943233/sopa-eparasite-protectip-primer
E Parasite Act Primer


http://www.politico.com/news/stories/1211/70878.html
SOPA Is The End Of Us


http://benton.org/node/107356
SOPA For A Fragmented World


http://www.plagiarismtoday.com/tag/sopa/
SOPA Topics-Plagiarism Today


http://theagilepanda.com/2011/11/21/the-true-intent-of-sopa/
The True Intent Of SOPA


http://www.publicknowledge.org/tag/sopa
Public Knowledge


http://boingboing.net/2012/01/20/senate-postpones-pipa-vote.html
Fearless Faggot Cringes-Nevada Trembles


http://boingboing.net/2012/01/19/how-the-internet-blackout-affe.html
How Congress Prostitutes React


http://thenextweb.com/insider/2012/01/19/doj-calls-megaupload-case-among-the-largest-criminal-copyright-cases-ever/
The Empire Strikes Back


http://www.guardian.co.uk/technology/2011/dec/15/sopa-bill-congress-online-piracy
SOPA Is Establishment Interest


http://www.theatlanticwire.com/politics/2011/12/lawmakers-about-pass-sopa-are-bad-internet/46310/
Ridiculous Congress


http://www.wired.com/threatlevel/2011/12/sopa-stalls/
Blacklisting Provisions Remain


http://www.itnews.com.au/Tag/sopa.aspx
Tag-SOPA-Australia


http://www.extremetech.com/electronics/105735-sopa-rides-to-war-tech-giants-hollywood-clash-over-future-online-censorship
SOPA Rides To War


http://techland.time.com/2011/11/17/sopa-wont-stop-online-piracy-would-censor-everyone-else/
Would Censor Everyone


http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/80beats/2011/11/30/hundreds-of-web-sites-seized-on-court-order-no-sopa-bill-required/#more-33647
Feds Seize Sites By Court Order-Discover


----------


http://www.cdt.org/report/list-organizations-and-individuals-opposing-sopa
SOPA Opponents List [[Who Opposes SOPA, just a partial list as they number in the many millions.]]


http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=OPEN+ACT&source=web&cd=58&ved=0CGIQFjAHODI&url=http://www.districtdispatch.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/ALA_pipasopaopen_ref_guide.pdf&ei=dGQdT6j2D8y3twegy_3BCw&usg=AFQjCNFcg7oNXkt5r0qfJ-iYht9aKalhug&cad=rja
SOPA-PIPA-OPEN Comparison Chart [[OPEN is one of the Alternative Plans so far.]]


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stop_Online_Piracy_Act
Wikipedia Article about SOPA


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/PROTECT_IP_Act
Wikipedia Article about PIPA


http://www.pcworld.com/article/248525/sopa_pipa_stalled_meet_the_open_act.html
About OPEN-1


http://keepthewebopen.com/
About OPEN-2


http://www.remarksblog.com/copyright/undoubtedly-todays-widespread-internet-protest/
About OPEN-3


----------


http://wikimediafoundation.org/wiki/English_Wikipedia_anti-SOPA_blackout
Wikipedia Message before Blackout


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:CongressLookup?new=yes
Wikipedia Thank You Message-The Day After


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:SOPA_initiative/Learn_more
Wikipedia Explanation and Links


----------


http://www.dailybinarynews.com/after-outcry-sopa-backers-are-mainly-democrats/
SOPA backers are mainly DemoCraps


http://torrentfreak.com/pipa-sopa-co-sponsors-drop-like-flies-120118/
SOPA sponsors drop like flies


http://lakeconews.com/content/view/23290/919/
Congress DirtBags call off SOPA and PIPA


http://vigilantcitizen.com/latestnews/sopa-and-pipa-postponed-but-not-cancelled/
SOPA and PIPA postponed, but not canceled.


This last website voices the Real Danger here. Scum bags like Heinrich 'Himmler' Reid will try to make secret and midnight votes on shadow bills (that only they know about), that will do the same damage to all of us -- and not be legal -- but be demanded as official because the DemoCraps say so.


*************************


After reading these websites and realizing what this event really was, anyone who still says that a Second American Revolution to clean out the 'Queers' and crush the DemoCraps is impossible, is either a moron or a Demo/Homo/Modo liar.


*************************

Take a good look at this pervert. This is Heinrich 'Himmler' Reid -- The Queen of the SQLD's Queer and Armed Fart-Forces.


This pissant just got it's ass kicked up around its ears -- by a simple Internet Revolutionary Mini-Event -- the Protest Blackout.


This is exactly how the horrible infestation of the Armed Forces, by the 'Queers' of that mad fag's quest for glory, can be reversed; and the Queer and Armed Fart-Forces can be destroyed. Thus, freeing the United States Armed Forces to exist again, as it should be, and as it was always intended to be.


*************************


A Simple Explanation Of The Latest DemoCrap Crap:


DemoCraps are Whores. They are scum bags of the worst possible greeds and evil intentions, towards all Life on the Planet Earth. They clump together into dung heaps called the DemoCrap Party, because they share a mutual venom and rabies of the mind. A mental misdirection, that tells them that they must destroy all else on the Earth, in order to Rule The World.


This Mental Rabies tells them that only by being the Dominant Tyrants of all societies, can they be afforded the worship and social glory which they crave. All other lifeforms will be mere slaves and servants at their disposal -- for any purpose. The worse the purpose, the better. Those unfortunate enough not to be Masters or Customers, will get used to their lives of servitude -- for generations and generations and generations.


To achieve this goal, they have decided to Whore Their Way To The Top. This involves taking huge sums of money from any and all psychopathic and/or mentally diseased special interest groups (such as the so-called Homosexuals); in return for which they will make the members of those special interest groups seem to be superior in social status, over all non-paying foreign elements. This establishes a lucrative business of Tyranny For Sale, and Superiority For Sale. It also erases forever, any and all Real Goods which their predecessors achieved historically.


However, the DemoCraps themselves think that this is just Good Business Tactics, and have been trained to believe that it is only being done by them because everyone else (who are non-paying creatures) are just lower class vermin, and are an unfortunate fact of 'Life As It Was' -- before DemoCrap Domination.


DemoCraps see themselves as Smart Business Types, and Clever Dealers Of The Future. This self-delusion is all-important to the DemoCraps, as they must keep themselves blind to the universally obvious fact that they have become the 'Turds Of The Universe'.


The average DemoCrap, is now a swill-fed, propagandized, lunatic megalomaniac that not only sponsors every kind of Hellish Degeneracy Group (that pays them the standard dues for DemoCrap Prostitutions); but has also become the very same monstrosities to which they have offered their Whoring Services.


The average DemoCrap brain, is now an amalgamation of every twisted and sick-sick-sick perversion, and lunatic deterioration of mental functions, that they have killed Human Beings for, as Killer Whores.


Today, the average DemoCrap is barely good enough to kick into the nearest gutter, where it should stay until starvation brings blessed relief -- to everyone in the Universe, including itself.


And yet -- the average DemoCrap has been trained to think of itself (at a rate of about one word an hour) as a Great Benefactor of DemoTopia. DemoTopia being the planned berserk world of DemoCrap Domination; based upon the twisted foundations of dozens of lesser social groups (once customers); who have naturally hailed the DemoCraps as their Deliverers, and therefore support them as the Masters Of The World.


The average DemoCrap, sees itself as a very important Whore, who will help build an Idyllic World Of DemoDomination -- one customer at a time -- one perverted act at a time.


To their sick-sick-sick minds, they are Heroes Of The Demo Future; which will Rule The World.


*************************


Markel Peters
http://www.voices-of-iowa.blogspot.com/

A MARVELOUS GOODNESS, I DO APPLAUD !



Thank You Very Much, South Carolina!


I Was Hoping That Would Happen!


As soon as I heard that it might happen -- I started to hope that it would happen.


I really could not be happier!


Congratulations to Newt Gingrich!


-----


Now, would someone get rid of the Big Rat ?!!!


I am not allowed to eat it, because that might upset some delicate sensitivities.


So, Please -- Remove -- The Big Rat.


This is a swamp with Class, I will have you to know.


----------


My question now is -- "Is there room enough in the heart of Newt Gingrich, for a Vice-President Rick Santorum?"


Because, a Political Ticket of GINGRICH//SANTORUM would be indestructible !!!!


Someone has got to make it clear, that ModoRats are about as welcome in the Real World, as turds are in a swimming pool! A Gingrich//Santorum Republican Ticket will do exactly that!


----------


And please, no more Multiple Choice. Rats feed on the Multiple Choice Pack. Also, this seesaw ride is giving me Jet Lag. The entire matter should have been decided before the Primaries, by the People! The Primaries should just be a formal confirmation of the People's Choice. THAT is how you destroy DemoCraps.


************************


Markel Peters
http://www.voices-of-iowa.blogspot.com/