The fog of Culture – Remember the Children

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This season of sacrifice to the god of mon-ey may provide a sweet layer of emotional warmth and distraction for the masses.  Artificial lights and trees, Smells purchased to simulate pine and pumpkin and spice, Rudolph and Jesus and Santa magically merge into a force driving the frenzy of consumption.  It is quite a seductive set of enchantments is it not?  Another ongoing strain of drivel is the  political “dis-course” that is completely ignoring the ugly and horrific reality of institutionalized child trafficking throughout the “civilized” world and local governments and organizations.   The most recent arguments have moved from the content of emails released to who it was that “hacked” them or whether or not some exceptionally creepy people eat at a particular pizza shop.  Or whether someone got their hyper-sensitive feelings hurt because someone dared to step outside of the prescribed politically correct and acceptable speech.  It drones on and sounds like Jr High children masquerading as intellectuals. “I know you are but what am I?”  The ridiculous name calling is sickening and stupid.  But who cares?  Some one’s feelings got hurt while some little girl or boy was being raped.  Boo hoo.  Or perhaps you are attempting to prove once and for all who killed Kennedy, or what the shape of the earth is, or whether the aliens are reptiles or demons, or, or, or, . . .

I guess it is easier and more interesting than dealing with the reality of the dark nasty underside of things that keeps this thing spinning.  I understand that most people don’t care about the international slavery of the phony money system.  Or the manipulation of the population through taxes and regulations, or food supplies, or seeds that will not reproduce, or the control of land and water, and, and, and . . . But I will never understand the lack of outrage about the children. The reality is that this information has been available for decades.  It makes an appearance from time to time but there is no real public discourse or accountability for the harvesting of our children for perversion, rape. and murder while the perpetrators are enriched by their use. But I guess it is a part of the same programming that keeps all the rest going. I will link some information below if you would like to know something about it.  I am not promoting this particular site, there are many sources available for anyone who would know.  So while you are shopping, or arguing some irrelevant political point, or even assuming a place in line as a pseudo social justice warrior, please ring a bell for the ones we don’t want to think about.  Mention it to someone, start a conversation, do some research, get involved.  Or I guess just ring a bell and ring it loud and long so you can’t hear their screams.

My guess is that the sweet little child in the manger is quietly sitting with these thousands of children this instant and wondering why “His People” won’t quit singing their hymns and come to help these babies.  Ring a bell.

Warmest Personal Regards – Plato

An Article, there are hundreds out there.  Some are full of crap and distractions, attempting to isolate particular events.  The issue is that this is pervasive and networked all over the world.

 

Sideways – Lean on In

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Side-Ways

Sideways

Lean on in

Side Ways, Are the Pathways

Buzz . . . Buzz . . . Buzz

Sideways

Lean on in

Side Ways, Avoid the World’s Ways

Mmm . . . Mmm . . . Mmm . . .

Sideways

Lean on in

Side Ways, Lead out the Maze

Yeah . . . Yeah . . . Yeah . . .

Sideways

Lean on in

Side Ways, Into your next Phase

Lean . . . Lean . . . Lean . . .

Lean on In

Lean on In

Lean on In

Happy Birthday Sara Jane

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sara-jane

We did not have he opportunity to record Monday’s Expansion Project composition but here is the sentiment and wish for the night.

“Happy Birthday Sara Jane!”

Shy hazel windows blinked open

Wonder at it all

Chestnut locks adorn her crown

Active, interested, seeking that which called to her

She went out not knowing

Tacit hopes held her

Comfort during hard times

She longs for answers to questions

Too deep for words

Roundness transformed

Cuteness morphed into elegance

The flesh changed over the years

Soul has grown and grieved and rejoiced

Day by day, year and decade has passed

She has learned and stretched and been amazed

By the wonder of her

Yet for all she has seen and overcome and still hopes to be

At her core she remains . . .

Shy hazel windows which blink open

Sighing from the wonder of it all

That is her destiny, her purpose

To recognize that she has always been perfect