Really, this is crazy. I bought two books today: (see links) then, am watching this video.. now, if I had just seen the video? Am sure I would be thinking, oh yea, more shit.. but, then, after reading some of the book? I get it, condensed for the video, just a tiny part…
makes TOTAL sense, actually.. The Biology of Belief : (er, I found links on the ama.com site, should be for everyone?)
Then, Tibetan Yoga:
Now, it is not until you read BOTH of these that you get a sense of the idiots? :Lol!!! Imagine you are talking to a child, trying to explain, er, quantum physics? er, get it?
Some people, er, sheeple, decide what is good for you or not. Obviously, this music is bad for you.
THAT is why this is just a bit. and, it will be changed, later.
~(Re the picture? What, you really thought I would post a picture of Z so that you could recognize her? Dream on.
See, the thing about Z, is the same as me. Just different. When she got boobs her father, fat Herr, wanted to feel them. She put him in hospital, or killed him, depends on the day you ask, and, actually, does it matter? Z wanted to leave. And she did.
Me, I never got “boobs” but, I did put people in hospital. I am a guy and I don’t like weaks. But she, this “Z” was a person, for me. That is all.
But, life on the streets was hard. So, of course, like so many others, she went underground. It was warm to sleep, but, no good air. The price was €3 per day, cash, in his hand. HE? Was from Romania. Life was easy, or impossible , he would say, So, you got warm , here, €3, now. Of course, Z had watched the non-paying people. They just disappeared. Gone. Simple. Want warm? €3. She always paid, but kept her eyes open, and, one day?
Let me just say this, because I do not know what to say? Z is now my friend. I will do anything to protect her, and I know she will do anything to protect me. So, ye can all fuck off. Thing about Z that she saw? Same thing.
It does not matter.
Z was not born in Thailand. She came here. She escaped here. Carrying history. She was born in Inverness, in Scotland. And, yes, if that is how you define things, she was “crazy”
But, as I have said elsewhere, she was my one true friend.
See, I know, “they” tell you, one thing at a time. For me? This is because they cannot do otherwise. I say, <I> say, do EVERYTHING. Which one do you wish? The early bird catches the worm? Every creative works at night? Every creative needs at least 14 hours?
Work all the time? Don’t EVER stop? To imagine? What? To let “your subconscious” (which, of course, being a creative, they let you know about) do it’s work?
Or , maybe, just maybe, you are one of the special people? Called, “Critics?” Who can see genius, tell you what to buy, and when, because only THEY can see this.
Right? Btw? The picture that heads this? I just because I like French girls, ok?
I never even told you, did I? Now, I am not saying she was not pretty, not my type. After all, eleven years will make an honest liar out of anyone! Thing is, I don’t know what the thing is? She just sat there, jesus, she just, well, sat there, looking at the river? I thought she was going to throw herself in and drown. Of course, I would save her, become a hero, and she would love me ever after. And, of course, that is not what happened.
Still, just down there, on the banks of the river. See her? It is Lucerne. It is Switzerland. It is summer. This is not america. There are topless girls everywhere. (Why is it ok for men to be topless but not girls?) Never mind.
I am on the bank. I see her. I want her. Althought I cannot see her clearly. It is when she does that, that I REALLY want her. What does she do? Christ. How can I say that? How can you picture this? You are on a slope. OK? It is the river’s edge. OK? There are topless girls all around you. OK? It is a really, really hot summer’s day in Lucerne. OK? OK. Then, alone as you are, you look up there. That means, you just turn your head a bit. You see her. She is totally covered up, as far as you are able to make out. And then? She does it! She reaches both arms down. Grabs her “top” and pulls up. First you see her flat belly. You want to look away, but you cannot. And, anyway, this is all in slowmo. She continues to pull, and her left breast, the one you can actually see? Gets caught in the movement. It rises up with the pull, then, just releases itself and falls down again, bouncing. Her nipple is hard, you see. She must be anticipating the cold, you think. Her arms continue the movement, it is all just one movement, like, really, she does not give a fuck what happens to that top? And, well, she lets it go when her arms get back there, moves her body forward, and before you can even say “NIPPLE” she is in the cold water, swimming upstream. She has not even seen you, and she never will. This you know, how? Because you do not talk to people who could talk back. You choose idiots. That is all.
So, you watch her swim. Upstream. And every stroke she takes you take with her. If only she knew! Instead, you pack up your tomato and quinoa sandwich and leave. Meanwhile, her top and the remains of her cigarette burn in your memory.
I walk to where she has discarded her top. I pick it up. And watch her swim. When she has had enough, she comes to shore. I am waiting, with her top. Thanks , she says, without looking. She does not give a shit. Thing is, neither do I. I see her shrivelled skin. Her cold body. Wet. Cold. Would you like a warm coffee? I ask. No. A warm vodka would be nice, you know, like Sake, but not? With fish n chips? We go to the bar in the center of the park. Everyone is there. Eating. It is , after all, Switzerland. And we are by a lake. And it is summer, so the place is packed. We find a table and sit down. What call you, they? I say. She looks. At me. Through me. She says, name? My name? Is Elodie. I come, no, not from here. Something happens and I know we are using their language to say things we already know.
She glows. I can see it. I know her. This is Zana! Do you have my top? She asks, making me realize, she has walked all this way topless. Is sitting here, topless? Of course, as I said, this is Switzerland, not america, so nobody is looking. At her.
I hand her the top, and she puts it on. Slips it on. It goes over like I remember it coming off. Just backwards. This time? The breast is pushed downwards. And I find myself thinking, why? Why was she not barred for being human? Barred for being a girl? It takes me a few moments of watching to realize we are not in america.
Do you play? She asks. Play what? I say? Er, doh!! Guitar, of course! Like everyone else? No. So you don’t play? she says? No. I mean , yes. I play, just not like everyone else. You? I know you she says, screwing up her face. No, you don’t, I say, not screwing up my face.
She asks me if I would like a real Polish vodka, at her place. Sure. Let’s go, I said. So, we finished the chips and the fresh caught fish. And leave. You know that you are weird, right? She says? So, takes one to know one, I say.
She laughs. It is a light laugh and breaks my heart. Well, it would break it if I had one. That was a long time ago.
Her place when we get there smells of oils. It smells of massage, of lying down. It is a peaceful place. I tell her. Thank you , she says, taking off her top and lying down. There is some oil there, she says, looking at the table. Middle of my back. There, now, she says.
I do as I am told and pick up the bottle on the way to her. At the last minute, my hands full of oil, she turns. Her breasts all of a sudden do not look so small. Her nipples are pointing at me, requiring attention, it seems.
Like me? She says? I like you. I answer. Her skin is soft and hard at the same time. Access from above, but not in. It says. So, I go above. And, do I like it? Yes, I like it. Until she asks me, if I do. What do you like about that? That it is free? Do you pay for women? She asks. I could smack her now. But I don’t . What? I ask instead?
OK, she says, let us start again. Do you like me? Yes. Why? I don’t know. I feel safe with you. What? YOU feel safe with me? I am but a girl! She laughs that laugh again, like raindrops falling off of rose petals, I think. You are weird, she says. Then we hear the knock at the door. We look at each other. Both of us know they have found us.
I was a strange knock. Like a seeking knock. Zana looks at the door. She is totally calm. And I see our past. How I followed her, on orders, to protect her? From, what? It becomes clear to me. Not from humans. The door breaks down. Zana just sits there. The damp top sticks to her and I cannot help watching her nipples harden. They come in the door. They are tall. Smiling. Are they bots? I think? Zana does not move. She just looks. Yes? She says? It is then that one of them raises what looks like some kind of weapon. Zana just raises her hand, facing them. Don’t ask how I know. I just knew. Zana, I say, please? But, I can see her. Face and nipples hard. She looks at them and says “down” as she lowers her hand. They fall down. I do not know why, but I feel terribly sad. Zana? She turns to look at me. And that face is framed perfectly , those huge brown eyes, in that blond hair framework in that angular face. There is nothing in that face. No emotion. They must die. She says. Zana, please, no, I say. That face just turns, looks at them, then breaths in. They literally deflate before my eyes. I kmow what she can do. Well, I have been “told” what she can do. Do not annoy this girl, they said, over and over again. Just don’t. I felt my hand on my forehead. Zana, we should go, I said. Where? she asked? Where they will not find us again!! I said, really, really full of hope. They will always find us, she said, it is what they are programmed to do.
That was the thing about Zana. I remembered now. I knew her. She was a “criminal” an “agitator” , a wanted thing.
He said he was, but then. Of course not. I waited all day, I waited all night. And not even a phone-call. Get even? Not a bit of it! He would never know.
So, I loaded up my program, only to be faced with, this number is not valid? What? I had just made that fucking number? But, no, not valid. OK. No problem. I changed it. Then, other room. Changed the clothes. No wool. Wool leaves fibers. No hat. No gloves. No fibers.
I left. It was dark. Creepy. Says who? Them, wot don’t creep around in the dark, I thought! Ha, funny Ha!!! Get it? Probably not.
Well, let me tell you. See, I have this program. On a few of my computers. Oh, shit, OK, on my computer? Does that sound more amenable? Anyway, I listened to a few tracks. Boring. Then, I went on the internet, where I know I had bought some tracks before. But now? They “had no record!” What? Dawg? Are you seriously gona say to me that you have no record of my credit card, my name? My address? Nothing? Really? So, ok, you are not from here, right?
Anyway, I just thought fuck it, got out my compiler (on Linux, of course) and wrote a little program that would upload to their open socket and let me get in. Ok, that took me, using pre-written routines? In C? Lol. Bet non of you has an idea!!!
It took around 5 minutes, because, yes, you can get the routines online, but you still have to compile them, stoopid!!
Ok, so, I was in. Then I heard the horn , toot? Is that a word for a horn? (Of course I mean a fucking car-horn and not a trumpet, twat!!!) So, I grabbed the chunk of wood and went out.
The lights were on in the car, but it was dark and I could not see who was there? Maybe it was a person? So, I did what any self-respecting, er, ok, person, would do? I walked right up to the car. (Wood behind my back, it was REALLY heavy!!! Only about 3” thick, but, long and heavy!! Shit, I done told you it was heavy, right? RIGHT!
You looking for something? I kind of shouted, asked? You lost?
Tell me why, please tell me why I really hoped the fucker would get out of his car and try to jump me giving me the excuse I, apparently, wanted/needed?
But, no such, er, stuff. No car door opening. No movement of a body inside. No lights or radio going on or off. No cigarette smoke from the window?
Well, what would YOU do? I tightened my grip on the wood. (I should tell you about that! It still had the bark (no, not like a dog! Silly! Tree-bark!!!) on it. I had not shaved it. I would NEVER shave a bit of wood without permission! I did not want to blunten that knife. Of course, I had many of them, but, they were all equally sharp and I thought, why? Er, I mean, of course, I did not wish to blunten my knife. OK? At the time? Is all. And now? I was glad for it. Imagine, Bark on a head would stick more than shiny, peeled wood. I could see it. See it? Shine. Swipe. Splat! And!! The wood would (get it?!!!) not slip from my hand, because of the dog, er, sorry, the bark!!
So, I took out my knuckles. THAT may sound a little strange to you? But, they really were hidden in the army jacket! So, I took them out and tapped the window.
What happened next is too fast to describe. It matters not. They all went with the swipe. The blood did not splatter and nothing followed me as I walked, peacefully off. I felt like a pint. No doubt an ex would have said I looked like one too. but, nope. I just smiled, and walked away. No splatter on me, mate, nothing that matters with the splatters.
So, boy is invited into girls room by girl. She asks if he likes her poster. Yes, he says, I like this one of Yosemite. Then, boy asks girl, which is your favorite, I would say this one with the bear? They both look at the poster, there is a bear, in the middle of a river, fishing. And he has caught a fish in it’s mouth.
Then, she starts to speak, she says:
“It is not a picture of a bear. It is a picture of a fish. It has been caught by a bear. It was just swimming , like all the other fish. Do you think any other fish even noticed? Do you think any other fish even cares? I think they don’t. I think every other fish just keeps swimming, never even noticed. They all just keep swimming upstream. That is all“
(From the Sarah Connor Chronicles, Episode 10, Series 11. )
To continue, he was becoming interesting!
But then, the Alien looked. What, I said? You just said when Columbus discovered America, right?
Er, yea!! So what?
Well, you DO know that he didn’t er actually discover america?
Yes, but, well, that is what we say, we know it is not true, but we just keep saying it, because, well, I don’t know, maybe because it is comfortable?
Comfortable? “Because” there is that word again. So, let me get this right: You humans KNOW that what you are saying is shit, er, wrong, but, you keep repeating it as if it were fact, because otherwise it would be, er, uncomfortable?
Er, yep, that is what we do!
But, don’t you see where this goes?
No. Where does this go?
Well, all of your history, is just repeated SO often that even you believe it? And, it is all lies, yet, you believe them?
Yep, that is about it!
You do know, that nearly all of your “cultures” (read bugs for us) have things in your schools, stuff you teach your children, that are just continuations of lies that you yourselves have been told?
Yep. Sad. but we all know that, and accept it.
Like how you let 1% of people own everything?
Yep, like that.
Like, you humans actually let your kings and queens take land from somebody, give it to somebody else, then say nothing, it is “just how it is?”
Yep. sad but true.But, my turn to ask? What did you mean by, er, “bugs?”
Well, YOU talk about culture? As in, age-old culture?”
Well, which country beats all other countries into submission?
That is easy, that would be America.
Ok, and, how “old” is american “culture?”
Nearly 300 years now!
WHAT? You let a people, a country, with less than 300 years of being alive RULE you? Why?
Well, that is easy, they spend more on weapons than all other countries on earth put together, and, well, they will kill us if we don’t do what they want!
And then the Alien surprised me, totally, he said:
“Well, fuck me!”
Nine/Eleven or, Bush and Blair.
Well, racing we went, and he started with that darkest of all horses. Bush, Blair and the towers.
So, tell me, he said, what is the story (ye all say that, he he!!! with the 11th September? Are Bush and Blair still walking?
Lol! I had to laugh! Where the FUCK did this Alien think he came from!!! Er, of COURSE they are still walking, I said. They are rich!!!
So, people with, er, money, get to do what they want on your planet?
Er, sorry, yep!!
And what do the people say?
Now, I admit, THAT got me. We? Say nothing. So, I told it.
What? You accept it? Why? Because they are richer?
No, of course not, it is because we are..because we are, er, and, because we are, and, and, I had nothing to say.
Why did we accept what they said? Even their movies told us, years in advance, what they were going to do?
Because, see we are poor. And they are rich.
He just looked at me. Poor? Rich? OK, one question, are they happy?
OK, he got me there, kinda… see, they buy the prettiest girls, you know, the young ones, do what they want, then spit them out, no consequence?
What? No consequence? So, nobody cares? about your children? Shame!!!!
Na but, if you do something against them? Their army will kill you!!
They have an army? he asked? Who are they?
Just people, I said.
So, these, Just People, kill you, for them, so, they are scientists?
So, they believe in this God of yours?
So, what do they belive in? Why do the they kill you?
Money. Sir Alien. Money.
What? I thought you said that this planet had morals??
Yes, but not when it comes to money.
So, this is, like energy? This money stuff? Like , it is valuable?
No, Sir, our nickle? USA? well, it used to be in silver, now? it is just cheap, the cheapest tin.. to save them money.
The Alien just looked at me. Shook it’s head. Sir, you deserve everything they do to you.. If that was us? You would fight.. Just say no. Humans? Are weak, right?
What could I say?