I do like a damned good skit in the british, English,
pantomimesque tradition. It is the season after all. So when I spark up the
liar’sbox to check on the state of the enchanted weather over the smoke and the
black magic underground railway here (if ever evidence was profited for messing
with time it is the London Underground Minute, as everyone watched the jews
dragging stone blokes up a ramp for der Phjaro, when the universal constant of
WTF can join Newton down Leicester skwaure) I am always ready with the old “oh
no you are not, look behind you, your getting knifed in the back”
A long time ago in small soupcon of reality I watched a
retard being maternated. It was a weird scene. Repeated almost ad infinitum across
the UKplc experimental ward. Those whom I used to play football with in the cow
pats would have been agog at the spectacle of a kalergibeastling getting lauded,
by a be-earringed cryptoaboexterior priestess of the faith, to the heavens for
walking straight. Our future leaders or failures if you are a real person.
So when the prisonerfunded unreality machine here, unreal as
in Lokibollox actjujality, parks a minister for something in the queerqueenzone
then one can immediately make a mental note “well you lot are phukked then”,
As an example, look at the great Layabout administration of
Enki in the 1960s where ministerial portfolios included aviation…well go and
have a look on any iSTASI controlled ausphaart engine. As the song should
really say “gone and truly Fergusson”. One portfolio never to be seen is
pantomimes which tells you it must be MEMOREX. Like Policing here, kill anyone
you want and leave the country free. Fart sideways and get sent to prison. Or
genocide your country and steal all its wealth then park yourself and the loot
in London City and the RCE/LC IP talent will protect you.
In the internet of thangs one can be sure that the WC is
listening for an outbreak of the Horst Wessel again. A little tinkle on your
personal device, or tooth DIckestylee, will tell you that they don’t like the
way your arse is thinking, truth suppositories will be delivered to you by home
visit if you are not compliant, which might complicate things if you are a
hoimologatedhomoservilual, japseye, sweetcorn et al. Meanwhile your next door
neighbour, who cracked their hip falling down the stares, will die in the unknown
To forever escape the slaver inclined is your anonymous life
and nothing else.
One lives in a psychohistorical package, a quantum of life,
long engineered before the collapse into a HAS.
We might as well prepredict their insanity engines of faith
and start the appeal to free Alan “Googulag” Buttle. El Kid is too on the case for
the Big Ben’s liking.
If you, like me, still remember the art work that
accompanied all the Berneysianschpeil corps. presentations commissioned in the
1950-90 period then you are still waiting for all the fast moving high tech
shit that was going to be storming the heavens. All the hypersonic titanium we
I hope you will not mind me repeating the schmemeer often
parked on these pixels that the current USN fighter/attack dev prog is
analogous to taking a SPAD and trying to get it functioning over the Mekong when Laurence Fishburne was young.
Remember AH-56? Remember LHX? Remember Sprint?
All the unlikely things that were going to be used to finish
the unfinished work but somehow the real persons living in the USofAcorp didn’t
want to use and burn the sky.
So if the crop of stooges won’t do it then you build a new
group of golem.
All these things are turning up finally, for use by the
child killing slaver state.