The Manifesto of the Lemming Messiah.

 The earth has been invaded by genetically modified vampire space monkeys with homicidal tendencies and voracious appetites for opulent destruction...They think in numbers...They speak in codes...they have no regard for the living...They have no respect for the dead...they know not what it is to be alive...Eyes they have, but they do not see...Ears they have, and yet they hear nothing... Deaf, Blind, and Dumb...Lost in a world of darkness...no perception of beauty...no consciousness of Love, or sorrow, or even hatred or anger yet they are capable of such malice...Such prideful primates...pious in their captivity...full of paranoid delusions and unwarranted hatred...Built to fuck and fight...Destroy and Create...They build their castles of sand from the crumbled remains of the temple they have destroyed...

Icy sparks on pavement flashing...frozen vacant stares of breathless mechanical caricatures rendered mindless and numb by the monotonous hum of the mechanical Pharoah...

We have deitized The Man...hailed him as our king...This thing we call The Man is actually machine...Gears, bells and whistles, no organs, flesh, or skin...Hollow bones with no marrow...no shining light within...Trapped in the belly of the beast machine of war...searching for redemption...looking for a door...it is we who built the beast...for its ends we slave and toil...we offer up our sacrifice...It thirsts for blood and oil... We built it from the ruins of the temple of old, appointed a high priest, our allegiance we then sold...We built our pyramids...towers to the sky...when a prophet shows another way, him we crucify...we must keep the secret safe...the illusion he revealed...the truth he told is dangerous...it must be concealed...to keep our scheme alive we must censor everyone...keep them busy with our work baking bricks under the Sun...nail him to a tree...treason is his crime...suspended on the axis that marks the space and time...We rebuild the temple...sew the curtain that was torn and slaughter all the children from the revolution born...Who will build our pyramids if the slaves escape across the sea? This job is for serfs and peasants, not for kings like me...We must rig the game to ensure that they stay poor...if they don't cooperate we will have to import more...

Lifetimes built on layers of illusion, we long for a glimpse beyond the veil. Societies built on the foundations of ancient mythologies and the basest and most perverse of human pathologies...sustaining their reigns over our brains with fear, apathy, and cohersion.

In a world where the mass consciousness of society has been hijacked by ancient mythologies and fascist agendas, and the population as a whole is conditioned into a servile existence...Addicted, sedated and desensitized, wool pulled over their eyes...fed a steady diet of high-fructose corn syrup, bread and circuses,drugs and lies...slaving sheepishly in a deep sleep for an empire steadily crumbling around them...it has become necessary for the prophets of the age to step up and speak our truth with love and creativity...we must articulate our truth as we have experienced it fully, standing on the shoulders of the prophets before us...the anomalies that screamed to us from a place of clarity and reason in this sea of illusion...the echoes of our conscience...we must voice our truth...we must paint our truth...pantomime it...sing it, shout it...scrawl it on the concrete of our prison walls...The Earth cries out for our expression.

I have come to emancipate the incompacitated lemmings lost in an illusory labyrinth composed of the vast underpinnings of metallic infrastructures created by a plethora of arbitrary authorities combining their collective energy to engage in a maniacal conspiracy to obliterate the consciousness of the masses and establish an omnipresent religio-political hierarchical system of injustice and unrestrained capital gain on behalf of the few and privileged at the expense of the mass population in its entirety.

The insatiable greed and maniacal hunger of the homosapian is raping Mother Earth daily...defiling the sky with the stench of the smoke from the burning sludge of the remains of the bones of our forefathers that they have dug and pillaged from the ground...the seven deadly sins serve as the pillars for the temples of the empires that are built by the hands of slaves whose graves lie atop the tombs of the martyrs whose blood cries out from the ground for restitution...

They grind rocks into gravel with hammers forged from the ore mined from the Earth...moving mountains that reach to the stars that they have mapped and charted according to their route around the Sun...They drill and dig the Earth and they build towers to the sky here in the barren lands...Steel, Iron and glass...Guns, diamonds and gold...they're building castles and temples from the ruins of the old...The Earth and her children have been bought and sold here in the barren lands...They slash and burn the forest to graze their sheep by the still waters as our children weep...They plunder our villages and pillage our camps...They bash our newborns heads against walls we have built with our own hands here in the barren lands...Nations and gods made in the image of man, the seeds you have sown will be reaped by your own hands, bow to your knees and prepare to stand here in the barren lands...

Perceptions of reality...illusions of the mind...words of oracles and prophets enchanted all mankind...young men seeing visions...old men dreaming dreams...the curtain has been rewoven, mended at the seams...slaves rebuild the temples from the ruins of the old...no one asks the reason why, they're just doing what they're told...Who am I to ask the reason why but I ask it just the same...at the end of the day its we to blame...the shackles that bind us are forged by our own hands...we are enslaved by our own hunger...we stretch out our hands to recieve bread and wine from our captors...we bow our heads reverantly...humbly taking our sacrements...the payment for our allegiance...grasping our nothing and holding it tight we live and die beneath the shadows of the modern marvels of mankind...the world is a stage and we all play our part...we all wear a mask at the carnival...at the circus everybodys a clown...each day we don a costume and recite our lines...we ad lib and fornicate...we starve while we feast...mental masterbation at the very least...Frankenstein ain't got nothing on this we have created this beast...Bread and circuses dulling our senses...that 40 hour clock has been winding and when the eagle flys we get so high...desensitized with drugs and lies we stumble thru this concrete and asphalt maze of madness...Puss-packages of parasites and psycho-neurotic disorders with orphaces, appendages and opposable thumbs...spending paper and ink on possessions that allude to illusions of power...addicted hopelessly to caffeine, nicotine,alcohol, THC, and gasoline and CNN and Facebook too and if we didn't have that we'd be huffing glue just trying to change the channel in our heads...

And there's tidal waves, earthquakes and tsunamis...bureaucrats and hippie commies...chemtrails, Fema camps and zombies...signs, signs, the end indeed is near...Walls made of bricks and mortar...Blood shed over arbitrary borders...Lines blurred between chaos and order...Love alone will save us from our fear...Exiles driven from plots where they toil...brothers killing brothers over land, water, and oil...bloody battles raging on domestic soil...wars, wars, and rumors of wars...signs, signs...the end is coming soon...North against the South and the East against the West, killing and blood spilling over whose idol is the best...the Righteous run for the hills to escape arrest...signs, signs the end is coming soon...

Walking the beat down this glittering street, illuminated with a fluorescent glow...beauty more shallow than skin...molds of painted paraffin...pay the man at the door to see the show...Fancy sports cars, smell of cheap cigars...in this city of lost angels and shooting stars the beat drowns out the hollow sound...

Spare some change for the cold, hungry, oppressed, mentally unstable byproducts of this unsustainable, inhuman machine that is sustained with blood and dinosaur bones and wipes its ass with the trees.

Yuppies, Hippies, Dykes and Trannies...Gangsters, Soldiers, Cops, and Grannies and anal-reticulant parking lot attendants with Asburgers and Stockholm Syndrome having tea parties and drunken orgies on the city hall lawn downtown...Everybodys raging internally, let's burn this shit down...every empire crumbles, has it come down to this? Walking thru these city streets I smell victory...and piss.

Hume- Influence of Popular Religions.

 

Nothing can preserve untainted the genuine principles of morals in our judgement of human conduct but the absolute necessity of these principles to the existence of society.

Survey most nations and most ages...examine the religious principles which have in fact prevailed in the world...you will scarcely be persuaded that they are anything but sick men's dreams...or perhaps you will regard them more as the playsome whimsies of monkeys in human shape than the serious, positive, dogmatical asseverations of a being who dignifies himself with the name of rational.

Hear the verbal protestations of all men...nothing so certain as their religious tenents...examine their lives...you will scarcely think that they repose the smallest confidence in them.

The greatest and truest zest gives us no security against hypocrisy...the most open impiety is attended with a secret dread and compunction.

Ignorance is the mother of devotion.

But even though superstition or enthusiasm should not put itself in direct opposition to morality, the very diverting of the attention...the raising up a new and frivolous species of merit...the preposterous distribution which it makes of praise and blame must have the most pernicious consequences and weaken extremely men's attachment to the natural motives of justice and humanity.

The highest zeal in religion and the deepest hypocrisy so far from being inconsistent are often or commonly united in the same individual character.

No morality can be forcible enough to bind the enthusiastic zealot...the sacredness of the cause sanctifies every measure which can be made use of to promote it.

The motives of vulgar superstition have no great influence on general conduct nor is their operation very favorable to morality in the instances where they predominate.

It is allowed that men never have recourse to devotion so readily as when dejected with grief or depressed with sickness...Is not this a proof that the religious spirit is not so nearly allied to joy as to sorrow?

Life is but a vapor...

 In the end we are riding the waves...carried by the wind...drawn by the flames...embers burning to ash...life is but a vapor...

Where does your soul go after you die?.... Where does the air go when you let it out of a balloon? 

Life is but a vapor in the wind.

Ideologies of Devils...

Dieties and Dogmas are Divisive Delusions Devised by Demonic Dictators Dedicated to Domination thru Deception and Destruction.

Purpose of Belief.

 The belief that your purpose in life is dictated by a higher authority and not an innate function of your being opens the door for ambiguity beyond the strata of imagination.

Literary/Verbal Dichotomy.

 Observing the stark contrast between my literary compositions and my verbal vernacular, I see a vast chasm between scholarly eloquence and gross etymological abuses...My writing reads as if it should be inspected in specticals and spoken in Old English...contrarily my actual grammar is mostly pigeon/ebonics in a southern accent with an over-use of the word "Fuck" and various conjugations of it...I think I may be Bi-polar. 

Suppressed Memories

 Sometimes suppressed memories resurface when a behavioral pattern is recognized...Hindsight is 20/20...Only when pattern recognition kicks in do we recall red flags subliminally ignored in order to cope with the reality of the moment...Memories flood like a torrent...words, tones, body language and how they affected our emotions, it all comes to life in HD...It takes a moment of clarity to open this pandoras box of suppressed memories...a straw to break the camels back...When we realize we have been abused the depths of the abuse begin to unravel...Processing this information is vital to heal...Remembering things that we have forgotten for the sake of coping allows us to admit to ourselves that we have been victimized... Healing requires us to acknowledge our wounds...awareness is the first step in the path to healing...Often we are ashamed of our wounds to the point where we not only hide the scars from others but also ourselves...Taking personal responsibility for the ways that we may have been complicit in the abusive situation is imperative in order to move forward.