LSR Notes: 9/23/20

6:17 PM

Notes for podcast:

  1. The plot of Willy Wonka, movie, stories (we can talk about Glass
  2. Who is Willy Wonka? Who is Charlie? What is the Chocolate Factory?
  3. About Roald Dahl:
  4. What is a trickster? – why are they interesting, important … … secret knowledge, disobedience, normal rules … … teaching lessons
  5. How do we manage the “teach you a lesson” methods of teaching
    kids/adults … … must we sometimes be taught “shocking lessons”.
  6. Archetypes:


5:14 PM

I will be known as the “Mad Preacher” of the Puget Sound …

[scene: a tavern in Deer Harbor, post collapse, two men talking]

“You going out tomorrow?”

“Fer What?”

“Grinket meat, tumor crab?”

“Nah … I heard things …”


“They say the mad preacher is out again …”


4:53 PM

I am grungit-gang, Clan Jumptous, of the 4th Beleaguered Brigade of atomized vampire hunters and other tunnel freaks …

We form teams of 3 ..

One of us says “hey man, what time is it?”

The other two come from the sides, hit you over the head, drop your body in the Duwamish.


4:35 PM

Each day in Little Saigon now, I think: “is this the day I get into it?”

It’s falling apart faster … and I think if people believe this all gets “magically better” after the election? … wow.

As I type this one of the scrumbly freaks is screaming outside my window. #seattle


4:27 PM

all frimbic-realm thugs will be used as the first wave.

Bishops, wearing regal outfits, carrying mace – made of iron and bone, wielding steel pipes …

They will transmit spiritual energy frequencies 98.5 …

After they are done feeding on bumpkit-meat? – they come for you.


3:07 PM

there are crongo-hordes already here …

Most of them hangout in the greasier parts of town, under the docks, where the dead things are …


11:09 AM

After 1970?

Each baby would be harvested, eventually, for its vital proteins.

Abortion is just a question of “when”?

I will be harvested soon, for stew meat, for a bitter gruel.


10:05 AM

Jeremiah 29


9:40 AM

Time croutons …

They’re like croutons, but they travel through time.

“Would you like croutons?”

“Sure …”

“They are already there …”


7:55 AM

Money …

Gold is money.

Silver is money.


Whiskey is money.

A pack of cigarettes is money.

A flash drive with all of Beethoven on it- will probably be money, soon.

Many things can be money, if there is perceived value AND the exchange is SIMPLE.

If your “money” depends upon a lot complexity?

It’s not money … it’s a debt instrument.

Another name for complexity: DEBT.


When Powell prints money? – he funds crypto.

(let’s pull that bandaid off now)

Unicorn Masters … (mainly levels 3-7)

Anyone can be a unicorn master …

Getting to level 3? – proving you can drink one beer AND you can read the Bible without catching fire AND you can provide at least ONE FUCKING PERSON that will say something nice about you. The bar is pretty low. You also have to sign the non-aggression pact, certifying you will do NOTHING to expand the powers of the Onion King … and if you do? – you INSTANTLY play Sky Hawk Shaman.

But here’s the deal though … the version of the ritual of Sky Hawk is much worse for mother fuckers who try to expand the power of the Onion King … they are left on a peak in the Rockies … just underwear … and nothing else. If they are lucky, they make it down the mountain? – each town gets 20 dynamite throwers, 20 sticks of dynamite … and the throwing distance is 10 feet now. If you make it to WA DC? – you still have to swim with sharks … and if you’re still alive? – dynamite is tossed at you until you are dead.

As unicorn master level 3-7? – fuck around, find out …

Once you become level 3? – the other levels kinda just happen … and are not really that meaningful …

Unicorn masters with Onion King voting privileges are responsible for selecting the town’s dynamite throwers, for example – dynamite throwers for the Sky Hawk Shaman ritual.

Bottom line is this … you need to stop stupid statist shit EARLY as a unicorn master levels 3-7 …

As a matter of right? – any unicorn master levels 3-7 can be fed to a grizzly, if a town agrees by unanimous consent.

So just don’t fuck this simple job up …



You have to have a day job to do this …


If you get caught taking donations? – grizzly bear lunch …


The Onion King

The Onion King is the symbolic representation of the state. Successful Onion Kings are lazy, stupid, and do nothing … really … the best Onion Kings? the ones that last the longest? Like “Yorbozoid the Luxurious”? They turned doing nothing into an art form, and simply accepted their voluntary donations … and drank beer … and didn’t fuck with people.

As long as there is an Onion King, there is no ceremony of the Sky Hawk Shaman.

But if an Onion King dies or is rejected by the Unicorn Masters (levels 3-7) then a NEW Onion King must be selected.

The selection is by unanimous consent and voluntary participation – anybody can be Onion King … not a bad gig … as long as you don’t fuck with people …

The selection “week” is broadcast’d live …

People get to watch potential unicorn masters competing, vying, and even swimming with sharks, per Dakuwanga

During this time, the unicorn masters drink whiskey and smoke cigarettes and toss dynamite at the Washington Monument, per the ritual, in the hopes that one day that dread satanic monument might be toppled … after decades of tossing dynamite at it …


On the final day, a vote is taken, and the winner of the unanimous vote becomes Onion King … until he dies or he fucks up and becomes a dick/bitch.

And, of course, if you SUCK as Onion King? – you will become Sky Hawk Shaman.

What if no Onion King is selected? – glad you fucking asked.

There will be no state, no laws, no nothing …

When there is no Onion King? – once a year, in January, a great festival is held where people get to toss dynamite at the monument on Mt. Rushmore …

This is the Onion King …

All say “tangata manu”.

LSR Notes: 9/22/20

11:25 PM

Habakkuk …


11:08 PM

If Mt. Rainier goes? – I think I’ll have about 30 minutes.

And that’s assuming we don’t get an earthquake too …

Rainier popping by itself would be pretty bad …

I figure I’d have 30 mins. Before the Lahar hit …


10:41 PM

Kittens …

What if some horrible monster only loves kittens, but not when they grow up …

So they just breed to have kittens …

And then kill the adult cats …

This is horrible.

Because kittens are so cute – and I think some people just want kittens.

This is horrible.


10:12 PM

I think about Pol Pot …

What our tyrants are doing? – is actually worse.

(and that’s saying a lot)


8:03 PM

“It is oft said: the Onion King that does the least, lives the longest …” – Dr. Freckles


7:09 PM

Think about the psychological warfare shit they pull after soccer games … foot ball bowl games and shit …

Those riots, in many cases, are synthetic.

Imagine the SHIT they’ll pull after each debate, especially if Biden looks like a muttering fool.

This could be interesting.


7:03 PM

The funken-folk are starting to scream again.

That ugly scream.

The screams of people who are asking a question …

The question: why am I here? where is the cocaine?

And soon will be bum fights in the abandoned lot nearby.

Soon I’ll hear the Coup de grâce, death rattles.


6:46 PM

As I watch the debates, if I do, I’ll be thinking of this:


6:42 PM

The debates …

I think I’ll watch for schadenfreude’s sake.


5:48 PM

  • first you get the “Just Egg”
  • second comes the “lice cakes”

caption: “take away the egg, man becomes sperm”



12:13 PM

I know I suck on the keyboard, and I should train more.

But when I come across a sequence of tones that make my mind jump in a good way?

And it was my fingers that did that?

It’s like touching the veil.


11:44 AM

Fun fact about me.

My best Christmas gift, as a kid?

Ruger 10/22 carbine, Christmas 1982.


10:33 AM

The sky looks almost nice right now.


10:21 AM

I was joking about wrestling sharks.

But …

What about “UFC Sponsored Grizzly Wrestling” as a topic?

Think about it …

Couldn’t do it here? – they’d let us film that shit in Russia.


10:19 AM

Social media is “potlach” at this point …

It’s heaping things on a pile that any discerning person knows will be burned: one way or another.

  1. through collapse


  1. through hyper-statism and censorship

It’s all Coastal Salish “toss shit on a pile” and set it on fire now.


9:48 AM

I will live off the greases of the street …

(and die as well, as well I should)


9:44 AM

My dad would go survey a forest, to make a bid as a logger.

And he’d leave me near some culvert opening, that formed a small pool. And I’d sit there, with worms and my pole, and fish for rainbow trout … me, my thoughts, trout.

Now? – memories like this are what keep me going.


9:28 AM

I wish I had some scrog-meat.

I would rub it with the oils of the tire store, the one that burnt down …

I would rub the dirt of the heroin lot, the urine pile, the rat cemetery …

I would have a Bowie knife in one hand, and a bottle of cheap whiskey in the other, and howl!


8:50 AM

Garbage dumps are underrated, as far as the apocalypse goes.

You have methane bleed off for energy – a very reliable source for at least 100 years post collapse (depending on the land fill).

You have materials to build things with.

The heaps are obstacles.


8:43 AM

If you are in the middle of NOWHERE …

And have NO EFFECTIVE MEANS of hunting, fishing, or creating shelter?

… and you find a clump of fishing line by the wayside?

… on the bank of a river or a stream?


If it has sinkers/hooks on it? – better.


8:31 AM

I can’t do the whole thing, but I know I could write songs and so other helpful things … like sing.

What about forming a Christian acid rock metal fusion band called “Jonamiah”?

Like Christian version of the Dave Matthew’s Band …

I’m serious …




8:28 AM

I slept on a “murder bed” once …

It was like jaws of steel.

Every time it randomly closed on me, while I slept?

I thought: “… this, too, is the U.S. Constitution … designed for failure …”

The COTUS is a murder bed you sleep on.

The COTUS is a steel mouth biting down.


8:10 AM

I’m a little bit of Jonah …

A little Jeremiah …

I think I’m Jonamiah.


8:02 AM

Given my luck …

Given my incompetence?

I will probably have my “shit together” the day the Earth splits in two and C’thulhu rises up and then he moons the Moon …

Right about that time …


8:00 AM

“If you think faith is easy? – you’ve never had faith in anything.” – Dr. Freckles


7:44 AM

“Lice cakes will have cinnamon flavoring this week!”

Screamed the trog-Lord to the slave crews of sector 67-H.

As they head to the sloppit mines, they could hear the trod-Lord, laying out priorities, discussing recent show trials, and noting those special folk … and death.


2:22 AM

The rule of 6 …

6 feet distance …

6 feet deep …

6 kingdoms shall fall …

6 warriors will die in battle.

6 eagles will rip open the sky.

6 flying monkeys for 2020:

  1. impeachment
  2. monkey herpes
  3. race war
  4. RBG
  5. Election
  6. ????

Sixth flying monkey?

— WW3 with China or Russia …

— Clathrate Gun

— A newer, worser, monkey herpes?


2:00 AM

Tap, tap, tap … on the window.

Xinder, or Hedroflex, or Beans

Demons that haunt, torment, tempt, poke, taunt, terrorize … and I can only hear the mad beasts of sector-4, and the Haglamite Witch Clan organizing scrumbo-freaks near Ballard.

Seattle is doomed, a commie hole.


1:41 AM

Obadiah …

(that’s a strange place to stop)

The vision of Obadiah


1:37 AM

Luke 12:22-34

Luke 12:35-40


1:30 AM

Psalm 33 …

Psalm 33:16 … “No king is saved by the size of his army; no warrior escapes by his great strength.”


1:17 AM

this also means Youtube can direct an army of trolls your way, if they wish.

they can send scum bags, and fakers, and accounts that have zero followers and no graphics and just magically showed up.

This is why Google is evil. An evil beast. Commie sham.


1:05 AM

we are already under soft martial law in many places, and house arrest effectively …

(seems like they built the prison around us already)


12:54 AM

We are in the Schrodinger Lock-down state right now …

A lot of folks, even in “commie #Seattle”, are starting to disobey … simply out of survival … because they sense their health degrading.

I think this means something really bad is about to happen.


THAT’S NOT CREDIBLE! (or: you a liar) 1988 reunion special …

She was the Haglamite wench,
she road a shark and hunted cowboys.

She was the last mistress to Jaol …
Her belly is filled with acid.
Her brain is confused by echoes …

She remembers old overdoses,
and dark alleys,
fumbling and greasy hands,
her body being used by many.

“When they told me my baby wouldn’t live because I didn’t have any money? – that bothered me a little … and then I went to the mall.”

They will serve you walrus pizza.

They will serve you the bowel of apes.

They will harvest eel meat from the eels that live deep inside the dark, murky sea …


They have chicken?

Or is it the meat sack GMO beast that hangs lonely in some warehouse in New Jersey?


He bought me in Thailand, my family had been killed by the GIs … my mother raped.

I was left in an orphanage …

I heard the bombs fall, as I leapt to my feet …

I knew Pol Pot was coming, I couldn’t keep on running.

I sold myself for food, for a home, for a chance.

And now I stand here, with this fucking apple on my head.

They found him wandering the streets …

“Hey old Chinese man, you want to make $50?”

That’s what Fran Tarkington said …

They found him struggling with his mind, a former officer of Chiang Kai Chek … a former killer, a lover.

They offered him cocaine, whiskey, and pain.

“Fran …”

“Yeah boobs …”

“Yeah … my name is Kathy Lee Crosby …”

“Oh yeah … boobs …”

Kathy never forgot.

She spent years in Europe, learning the sword, co-mingling with blacksmiths …

She built a fine claymore, and found Fran late one night …

“Hey, boobs?”

Drinking snake champagne, we kept seeking after the path to Bogimbulous …

We grabbed snakes by the roadside, and suckled upon their fangs, milked them for their ire …



But demons were tracking them.

Because women sweat too? – there’s Lady Speed Stick Anti-Perspirant …

Because women are chased in the night? – we provide dioxin and aluminum and mercury and other stuff that will fill your heart with nothing but poison for your lovers …

Because you sweat …

Like men …

“Tough like a man, soft like a woman …”

He was going to kill that guy.

A man who had abused him since he was a kid.

He was going to hunt him down, stab him, watch him bleed.

That guy had it coming.

But instead? – he’s having a salad from McDonald’s.

(because it’s fresh all day, and that guy ain’t going anywhere)




They told the kid, “go jump in the lake”.

They told him “you’ll be famous, here’s some candy, go do it.”

And now?

That he’s older?

He remembers that fear …

The freezing water …

The smiles of Kathy Lee Crosby as he slowly sunk below the water’s surface.

But it’s ok now.

How did they make us so afraid of gingivitis?

They thought his life was a joke, he was broke. They found him alone in the cage. The offered him the old sage wine …

He was Hooperman … Hooperman …

John Ritter found something bad,
John Ritter found something bad,
John Ritter found something bad …

Now he’s dead …

The Haglamite witch came to his village …

She said “come on our show, we’ll give you wine and whiskey and women and angel dust …”

And the man looked at his stale life, his hovel, the turnip garden out back?

He said: “I’ll shove myself into a box for the witch!”

(he did)

He was the man with two heads.

They found him in the corner of China, tied to a wheel, tied to a horse …

They said, “hey man, we’ll take one head … and give you back your life? End all the strife?”

He said yes …

But now it calls to him, from the bio dump, his old head.

At the labor camp, they toss me fish heads.

At the labor camp, they tell me stories.

They say that one day I will live in a condo. Eat pink champagne … I will drink the broth of love from the frog women … and then the demons will let me sleep.

But that dead head calls.

“Mom …”

“Yeah …”

“Where’s dad?”

“Pealing diabetes sores off his feet …”

“Mom …”

“yeah …”

“Can I have some more Shedd’s Spread Country Crock?”

At that moment, looking at her kid … she knew.

She knew that the world she gave her was a diabetic hell hole.

He is Zoorn, she is Kel …

They were poisoned and re-engineered.

They became smart enough to play basketball, the scientist was happy …

Now their children hang out by the dump, waiting for someone to trip, to fall …

Now they wait to destroy their destroyers …


“It’s Hazel! the surfing rabbit …”

Back in the 80’s?

During the commercials?

They would show you all these great foods that are going away … one day.

They would show you pictures of vegetables, eggs, cheese, meat …

(just to say “fuck you, you will be eating bugs one day”)

(just fuck you)

And now we wait.

Remember when a guy would blow bubbles, on family TV, with a cigarette?

And Fran would say “but you can try this at home!”

He wanted me to smoke cigarettes …

He wanted me to use PCP.

He wanted me to hunt the slag-folk of inner butt-crack and feed them to lions for gold!

That’s cigarette smoke in a bubble …

(that’s for kids to watch with their parents)

(before they go get the Shedd’s Spread Country Crock out)

(and spread misery on their pain)

Now the show is over …

Now we are all done …

Kathy is crazy and she is feeling eazy …

Fran and I,
we’ll take her out back,
we’ll show her a good time,
we’ll buy her Spanish fly …

The show is over.

Time to say goodbye …

Grab the crack pipe and get high.

Good night


LSR Notes: 9/21/20

11:59 PM

Edited Reality: the use of technology and human psychology to impact both group perception and memory of events. The ability to substitute features, data, and to manipulate imagery to inject something into the past that wasn’t there …

This is being done A LOT with geo-engineering. A lot of films are being edited to remove this “blemish”.

Covid-19 is highly edited, as was “9/11”.

I think this is connected to the “Mandela Effect”.


11:49 PM

There is also the “onion theory” of control.

Every layer has control … break through? – you get to a WHOLE NEW LAYER with its own controls.

This is how the system manages the illusion of “advancement” or “rebellion” …

No such things exist, in our system – just illusion.


11:37 PM

I conducted an experiment, several months ago, without knowing it …

I interviewed a man, with a huge claim, who is reasonably well known in the environmental world, and who I think, now, is the leader of a death cult.

Those podcasts? – over the top.

Death cults: not banned.


11:33 PM

And, I think I’ve been thrown a few “rotten eggs”.

Weird people who end up in my path and cause TREMENDOUS damage.

Good news? – not all are rotten eggs.

But one rotten egg can make you not want to eat eggs for a while.

Was this accidental? I dunno.

2016 was really bad.


11:26 PM

I was at Uncle Ike’s today, at opening …

The dude normally would wear a mask to put up the “human control fence”. Today? – nope …

The wife of the Asian mechanic up the street? – no mask this morning.

I’m seeing people wake up – but “they” see it too.


If you think this #scamdemic is about the election? – you are lost … gone.

This was NEVER about the fucking election …

I hope it was just a robbery, with a side of “NWO globalist” crazy … but that’s best case.

It doesn’t end in November.


11:20 PM

I think back to that conversation I had in grad school …

When I was still a “humanities geek” and not a programmer.

I heard the early “mythology” of the WWW …

I wasn’t “on the web” until years later …

But the mythology told me: this isn’t going to end well.


I saw “Manufacturing Consent” in 2002 with a friend of mine, at IU …

And I said “the WWW is neutral … it can liberate … it can enslave.”

And he believed the propaganda “no Dan, the WWW is NET positive and liberates …”

I look at this scamdemic, and the censorship.



11:14 PM

After 9 years of trying to have an “internet presence” ???

I’ve learned I’m banned everywhere, eventually.

Controlled, banned, shadow banned, boxed in, channeled …


I don’t know “who” or “why”.

And I don’t think I’m “special” – a lot of people go through this.


11:12 PM

A google/@youtube troll asked me:

“Who is deleting your comments?”

I don’t know troll … GO ASK YOUR FUCKING BOSS!

I’ve tried the alt sites too BRO …

I put 90,000 words on STEEMIT … and then got chased off by some douche named “Marky Mark” ..

Yeah … banned everywhere.


11:09 PM

Theory: “McMartin Child Abuse Case”

A false flag op, executed by the deep state, to de-legitimize childhood testimony concerning sexual abuse. Also, had a chilling effect on prosecution, providing more cover for pedophiles.

(and it worked for a while)


10:52 PM

I like this angle on masks …


10:00 PM

Started watching this “That’s not possible …” episode …

Notes are here:


7-9:00 PM


6 PM

Notes for podcast with Cecil:

a) Surviving in the woods without food, general discussion

— how long can you survive without food, and still be functional?

— how long can you survive without water?

— how long without salt?

b) finding plants to eat


burdock plant: starchy and like artichoke, eat the root.

Burdock | Buy Organic Medicinal Herb Plants
Burdock (Images via Getty Images)

“Avoid harvesting from the side of the road, abandoned lots, and other toxic sites.”

Useful for diabetes, and is also a blood thinner ***

Wild Violet: for lettuce like properties … can eat flowers, leaves.

Onion grass: you can the whole thing … long tubular leaves …

Thistle: eat the stalk after stripping outer layer.

c) basic steps to preparing meat, basic tools required

Field stripping:

d) eating insects

e) Quiet forest syndrome and the situation with insects.,of%20a%20sixth%20mass%20extinction.


12:58 PM

What if I’m the Elk King …

And you kill me during the moonlight of November …

And you eat my heart?

You get to become Wolverine …


No sadness …

Mash their heads to paste.

And then great songs will be sung.

For the coming of Trogar the NOORG.


12:46 PM

What if I were Lord of the Orangutan?


12:40 PM

I just had an epiphany …

“Aqualung” by Jethro Tull?

Yeah …

That song is about my sister’s french bulldog, “Beans” …

(now I must mock that song)


10:42 AM

CS Lewis understood the mind …

He understood demons.


10:33 AM

You remember Evel Knievel?

(that’s how I see my situation in #Seattle)

(and it’s not the Grand Canyon)

(it’s the English Channel)


9:49 AM

If my last name were Schrodinger?

I would own two cats …

One would be named “I dont’ know” …

The other would be named “I don’t care” …

or …





9:34 AM

Where is the USA right now?

“Schrodinger’s Lock down”


9:08 AM

Predators are paranoid motherfuckers …

That’s pretty much the basis of every fucking ‘ism or prejudice there is …

We’re paranoid, but as humans we need to transcend that.

That’s how you solve “racism”.

Transcend your fear of the “other”.

Black Lives Matter? – reinforces this fear, this trauma.


8:52 AM

You can add a question mark to the end of ANY FUCKING SENTENCE.


Tell them to read Lovecraft …

Tell them to read Shakespeare …

Tell them to read Bacon …

And then?


AP Style? – Orwellian bullshit, a foot in the door.

Strugs? – same shit.






8:44 AM


No matter their skill level …

Is a naysayer.

I don’t care how good they are, they will impact outcomes.

(that’s why people should be careful about inviting me into crypto projects – I’m an avowed, and stated, skeptic)


6:16 AM

I had the same thought yesterday … like …

What if RBG had been dead for several months …

And some ACTUAL REPORTER (one or two still exist) discovered this a week or so ago.

No longer a secret they could keep.

So they roll her out, like Bin Laden in 2011, thaw her out.


6:00 AM

If we are in a “get outta dodge” scenario?

Then one possible indication that we’re close to the “end” – the lifting of all shadow bans …

Sounds insane, but that would be the last burst of smoke to cover their escape to bunkers, Micronesian yurts, Antarctica Safe Zone complex.


5:48 AM

I go to sleep to the noise of sirens now …

I wake up to the noise of sirens now …

(it’s getting real close)

(I’ll know we’re there, ironically, when that noise STOPS)

… then the real fun begins …

Hypnotizing Women: Chapter 1, “That Hot Glance …”

Look into her eyes.

Focus your eye-beams on her energy loci. The foci of her loci WILL reverberate at various frequencies in the tune of Mercury. Her center is translational – with juice-energies cumming from her butt grease.

Take out your fidget spinner …

Place it on the bar, wait.

Yin Yang Fidget Spinner - AZ - ActivStars

She will look back into your beast soul. She will see the wolf spirit, this is when her own EGO will REJECT your mind insertions. Don’t worry.

Begin whispering into her ear:

“I am your cauliflower KING, you are my taco QUEEN.”

Repeat this, over and over, as she calls the cops.

Take your left hand and spin the spinner clockwise. She will lift her eyes from the smart phone, and she will stare at the spinner.

Tell her: “your mind is my waste basket, my heart is your stone.”

Tell her: “the hawks call out your name as the day breaks, your boobs are sexy.”

Now …

She’ll try to get up, go to the door of the bar to get to her UBER … you block her by taking out the “flashing light box” and you turn it on and place it in her visual field.

The flashing light will put her mind into a deep mental state of HX, what you want is MINXUS.

Minxus is the spiritual vibrational zone when a womans L-fluid is moving in balance with the rivers and the streams and the movement of gypsy armies.

When her eyes glaze over, and she says: “I can see that you are my wizard lord …” … then she’s ready. Ready for next steps.

Tell her: “I’ve got the UBER baby …”, and lead her to your car.

She’ll respond: “Beast king, I am your alligator woman.”

At this point, her boyfriend comes out of the bathroom.

He sees you, picks up a beer bottle, and busts your skull. You begin bleeding out on the floor.

Now, comes the real test …

Focus your boy-king tears on your man-boy-wound center. Tell your body to heal itself. Say “fix this fucking dent in my skull and this serious brain hematoma …”

Repeat: “I can be my own vitamin.”

Repeat: “I am safe and good.”

But nothing happens.

“The Day after THAT …”

This man is the missile lord …

He flies through space, powered by fear.

His sky-boat is filled with sideways pirates addicted to cocaine and bad sex …

In his ears echo a constant noise: “just follow orders”

And he will

And the millions must perish, for the Sky Hawk Cult.

He is the judge man, he was sent here, to watch over, and judge his young … and watch them die.

Fires of Hell became his fuel.

He spent his days, so self assured of his knowledge.

But now? – he owns the cemetery …

Now? – he’s ruler of the shrimp.

Now? – no more steak.

“It has been determined …
According to the world league of socialists
and globalists …
That all of you must die,
in a fiery hell.”

“It is being reported,
that missiles have been launched …”

“It has been reported,
that life is a mess …”

“Are you ready for the nukes?”

As mother goddess,
you were protected.

She hid you in her love,
you fit her like a glove,
she grew tired of you … never.

But now she watches,
as nukes go off,
and the world burns,
and her heart yearns,
for that time long ago,
when body wasn’t slow,
and her mind was lantern.

Honey … it’s just an alert.

Honey … I’m just going down to the bar, with my friends …

Honey … it’s just a little crack cocaine on the weekend.

Honey … I think I just killed some man in the darkness of night …

Honey … where’s the shovel.

Honey … just an alert.

I am your radioactive cowboy.

I’m the man who stands up against the commies …

I will launch my nukes at them, they will launch their nukes at us, and I will become the KROGIS-BEAST of ancient times …

When the smoke clears baby? – I will lead the Bograntian funken-folk.

Want some pills?

I can get you some.

Want some pills?

You’ll feel better.

Want some pills?

It will blunt the impact of that 2.5 megaton over burst, as it sets fire to your home, burns your crops, kills your cows, lays waste your “American Dream”.

But do you want some pills?

He took her out behind the football stands.

Nobody knew.

He left her 40 miles from Wichita, in a shallow grave.

Nobody knew.

He was scared, angry, filled with the bloody passion of murder. His mind was screwed up by cheap speed.

But now the nukes are coming.

So it’s fine.

It’s not too late to shop. There’s still time. Load up your cart with Velveeta and wine.

Tell your husband to tie up the cat.
Tell your mother, where it’s at.
Burn the books, the house.
Cull the herd, eat the mouse.
Hide in the cellar, count to 10.

Won’t go back together again.

I am the SKY HAWK SHAMAN … this is my penis.

I shoot my load, a whole bunch of people go away. They travel up in the sky, fast as a bird, and then settle on forests and fields and the sea …

The SKY HAWK SHAMAN rules the bridge between this world and the next.

Taste my goo.

Each day the BOY would kneel before his god …

Laid down there, before BAAL, as ordained by his parents that were too busy smoking PCP upstairs.

He just stared at lord RUNKTIS, and it whispered into his ear.

It spoke of dark times, and slave armies, and the blood of power.

This is Pandora’s box.

It’s made of steel and blood.

It’s covered in demon jizz, and other things not worth mentioning …

You want to open that box?

You know what’s inside?

The gun you used to kill that hooker …

Your spare heroin and needle …

(and the launch codes)

Professor Smarty-Pants looks up from the horizon and sees the dragon’s tail, over the edge.

He sees the fire and smoke.

He knows the world is broke.

He was quoting old Nietzsche to sound really smart.

Another woman broke his heart.

And now he will simply wait, and be smug.

“Honey, yeah … I think I left the iron on when I left this morning … and there’s nuclear war.”

“Honey, yeah … I think I forgot to pay the electrical bill … and shit … DID YOU KNOW MISSILES ARE COMING … ???”

“Honey … I never loved you … I always hated you. Bye.”

Where are we running to?

Where are we running from?

Don’t we know that the demons chasing us?

The demons behind us …

The demons tracking us …

They’re looking FOR FLESH!

And the bombs will cook us up like a Kansas city filet.

And all the rental units will go unsold.

Crimson sun, deadly son …

Light keeper of Satan …

Dark lord of rotten peas …

Privileged seeker of gods, when the various deities spend their time drinking honey wine and casting lots and cutting up small dogs for lumpen-meat.

And a tear goes down your face.

It’s over.

We are the skeleton league, we formed after the blast.

We are the skeleton league, Halloween is cheap for us.

Our minds were freed by the hydrogen bomb, and we will now travel as a skeleton band of freaks and start cooking the blue meth in Tulsa …

Cops will be turned to ice.

The bendy trees sway, as if to SOLUTE the wave of fire and poison and hate …

The bendy trees break, to remind us that life is short, and wood burns, and nukes are bad for life …

The bendy trees use their tree language, but no human can hear …

Not over the din of bombs.

This is my car …

It is made of gold …

It is powered by love …

It is covered in mold.

My wife said “leave”, and so I left. But 15 minutes later, I could not hold my breath … BECAUSE … BANG …


The lords of Drimbulus want nuclear winter for Christmas.

I got some pizza, I was heading home.

I got some food, and then I heard this boom?

And the lights became crystal green …

IT was mean.

I was cooked alive.

I was left here to die.

I was buried in soot.

I was too tired to loot.

It was over, and I was ready for the dead.

I look at this landscape, this town, this vision … and I think?

“I’m doing a little better in Little Saigon, Seattle … but not by much.”

We study science, we live in Kansas.

We study engineering, we covered the world in jagged hate and grated sin …

Brutal visage of a man without ears, and a dog without eyes …

Our lies echo in the night as the poor search for food.

But you want me to give you 20 BUCKS? Fuck

This is my klinktus-meter, it measures regret …

This is my klinktus-meter, it measures sadness …

This is my klinktus-meter, it measures my hatred … for you …

It reminds, there are shotgun shells, buried in the yard, next to my burning shame …

And I’m tired, done.

When I arose from my jergis hole?

When I crawled out to see what was what …

I saw my world as etched by the beasts of old in a pen of fire and wavy madness …

And my own urine was blue.

And my mind was covered in lettuce …

And your heart was burning bright, before me.

His name is Dr. Grank …

He spends Friday night in the tank …

He likes to “chime in”, at just the right time.

“Hey man … THE EMP knocked out our power … ain’t no trading bitcoins TONIGHT!”

Everyone looked at him with dagger eyes.

The noise and toil of cocaine crazy.

“Hello … is there any WEED OUT THERE … this is Lawrence, Kansas … is there any weed at all …”

“This is Lawrence, Kansas … is there ANY WEED AT ALL?”

I looked upon the masses, and they were covered in the ashes of the dead.

I looked at the motion of peoples, across the desert of their own self pity.

The troglis beast will chase them now, and the rats and mad cows and chickens without heads.

But the road is dusty, and long.

Your baby is the juice of tomorrow.

Your baby has all the power.

I have built a cabin of stone, and in it I prepared a bed of thorns.

You will be honored as the mother of the beast …

His eyes will reveal the kingdom of darkness.


How are you feeling?

Want an aspirin?

You’re telling me my baby is darkness?

I thought my baby would be kind.

You telling me my baby will burn the world?

My heart burns for it!

You telling me we’ll live in a cabin, in the Rockies?

I want to know who will watch the kid?-After I return to work.

3rd wave feminist.

We were making out …

It’s WW3 …

We lived in the bunker with mom and dad and that guy who carried a dead woman’s arm in his back pack …

Mom yelled.

I was startled, and now the mood is shot.

And I wish I had the cocaine I left with my dead boyfriend …

And some wine.

The dark preacher, stands in an open church.

Crocklin funk people, sit in the pews. Looking, lurking, expecting a passage …

I taught the devil words.

I taught the patriot bling …

I made my congregation sing, as rockets flew by, now we will die.

And they cry, and I lie.

“You know what Einstein said … he didn’t know how they’d fight WW3 … but he knew with WW4 … they’d be outta WEED.”

These are the body dumps, where we store our food.

These are the body dumps, where we toss the human garbage.

These are the body dumps, where some are left to die …

Slowly …

In anger, in pain, with ears covered in grease.

With a mind broken by the time witch, in Fresno.

The government stands there …

Not nearly ashamed enough …

“Just scrape off 32 inches of top soil …”

He stands there … the old man, slowly dying of ancient guilt.

The young Mexican man says “hey, can I have your liver?”

The old doctor smiles …

He thinks about that weekend in Chicago, the whore house, the hepatitis and crabs …

“Sure … have my liver bro … use it all”

“My hair …”


Thought that weird old guy …

“I shall rule with arms and legs and a mind of steel. I will hunt the street rat for my meal … I will marry 9 wives, and have 20 sons … I will be the Lord of KANSAS!”

And so he wandered into his realm, roaches scatter.

She wails …. bites her tongue.

The doctor with greasy radioactive hands pulls the dead thing into the light.

The demon looks up at her, and smiles.

In that moment the woman knows her role.

In that moment the earth shook.

In that moment the sins were repaid.


It’s the end of the movie …

Yo …

This is really poignant …

Yo …

Two old men, grasping each other …

Two old men, commiserating with Satan.

Two old men, who paid their fucking taxes, and got their STATIST AWARD …




(fucking voters)

Myth of the Sky Hawk Shaman …


Each year, the “laws” are brought to the great Sky Hawk … though the Sky Hawk Shaman is usually selected from disgraced Onion Kings, if there are no disgraced Onion Kings? … well … then whomever wants to “live it up” for a year … and then likely die …. and there are a few of these, every year … one or two.

And they say, “Tangata manu”.

The shaman reviews the “pile of laws” … that are left in a musty cave … on a mountain peak.

The Sky Hawk sifts through these laws, and is allowed to carry these laws, from a rocky peak in the Rocky Mountains, to WA DC. Minimal food, water. The laws are printed on paper. No help. As many of the printed on paper laws, in very large font, as he/she/it/Zed can carry. 16pt font … big margins …

Along the way? – ordinary Americans are allowed to toss one stick of dynamite at him, from a distance of 40 feet. Each town is allowed one thrower, one stick … all say “Tangata Manu”.

If the Sky Hawk Shaman stumbles and falls along the way? – the “watchers” ensuring his dedication to the rite, will toss 100 gallons of gasoline on the body of the Sky Hawk, set him and the “laws” on fire, and there will be NO STATE for another year.

No laws, no state …

You can see where this goes.

The ceremonial garb that the Sky Hawk shaman wears is very flammable, but doesn’t help much with keeping him warm.

He has no shoes.

He must remove his “REI gear” at the top of the peak before the journey begins.

Just some water, gruel, the “laws”, and him. All the way to DC.

The Sky Hawk Shaman is previous Onion King.

The Onion King’s role is to kick ass … specifically, bullies. Only bullies.

The Onion King only stays in power through the unanimous consent of all unicorn masters of level 3-7. Level 8’s have other concerns.

If an Onion King fails?

When the Onion King fails to achieve unanimous consent of the unicorn masters of levels 3-7?

Then the ceremony of Traptis is held, the ancient beer drinkers of Clan X-Ray spread the Tapestry of Blame on the floor. The current King’s name is added. He is now Sky Hawk Shaman.

As Sky Hawk Shaman, he will live in relative exclusion for a year, prior to the next “Go fetch the fucking laws …” ceremony, as previously described.

He will drink, and love, and live, and yacht, and watch Monty Python, and have weed and cocaine and cigarettes and steak.

A few days before the final ceremony?

Before Sky Hawk Shaman must walk or run or scamper his way with 50 pounds of laws from the Rockies all the way to DC with no car and no shoes?

He gets to be with 30 beautiful women, in a giant bed, with free Pagliacci Pizza and beer.

And this is how he prepares for his likely death as Sky Shaman …

Because people gonna kill him on his way.

Or he’ll simply die because it will be so impossible.

And the guardians will cut off his food one week out.

And the knife bringers of freedom will slit his throat.

Thus freedom is maintained.

A prayer for the sick …

Lord Jesus,

Almighty Lord in Heaven,

You gave us these bodies, these vessels, and we are expected to cherish them.

You gave us our first breath, the light we saw and the eyes to see …

But there are many, right now, Dear Jesus, that are ill, infirmed, sick …

There are many who are run down from this time, and they are losing ground.

Lord, they cry out for your mercy, for our love, and for our help.

In this hour of need, let us pray for the sick, for those that suffer in loneliness. The Lord in Heaven is beside you always. AMEN.

Let us pray for those abandoned by their doctors, for reasons not understood. God will send you angels. AMEN.

Let us pray for the children who struggle for their breath, for their blood to flow, for each fainter day. That God might lift them up, and fill their lungs and hearts with the Holy Spirit. AMEN.

Let us pray for the parents of children who are sick, and wonder why God has abandoned them. Jesus is with you. AMEN.

Let us pray for the friends, for those who care for the sick, for those committed to the arts of healing. Jesus will welcome you as healers in His name, healers of love, healers of science, healers of medicine, as long as this work is done in HIS NAME, Jesus Christ. AMEN.

Let us pray that our friend’s sickness goes away.

Let us care for our bodies, these vessels, that God has given us.

That we may serve.