There’s no other explanation for it, couldn’t be.  In an age where blaming everything else but one’s own actions is normal, it’s really about time the big guy got kicked in the balls. Figuring that most of the shit going on visually and up front is mostly, in fact directly, contributable to men, it seems appropriate that God is responsible for their actions.

Now ball kicking or strikes directed to that area are purported to be excruciating, in relative terms.  In the men realm of what constitutes hell, it’s not global annihilation by their dominant fist or being hogtied and forced to speak about their true feelings and fickle fears.  It’s the unexpected and unprepared possibility that their uncovered and unprotected private parts, except when on full member mission, could be struck by heel, knee, fist or any other non-organic implement.  Ask any male what their priority checklist run down includes and it’s a sure bet that coverage of the yam bag, giggle berries and love spuds top the list.

​Given that Gods nutmeat must be really big, omnipotent bag daddy of all, it’s only fitting that his deathticles be given a good old working over.   Organizing a global sack attack and gathering up as many rusty onions as possible will go a long way to performing the father of all pendulum smacks (FOAPS) on Lordy.  The chance of success is of course very low.  However a blow so low may be the only way to bring Mr Potato Head and his cretins to their knees.

​Image credit.  https://www.flickr.com/photos/circularpoetry/99542927      
  

It was always a society with holes, like a very large block of Swiss cheese.  Its historical modelling with its multi coloured multi ethnic multi-faceted existence, albeit peppered with racism slavery and arrogance, was always regarded as a beacon of what the world community could aspire to be.  Unfortunately those aspiring Nations who are deemed suitable by Americas extreme vetting, where and still are of a certain familial mindset, set to only mind what the USA says and nothing else.  Unfortunately then as now, dealing with the only real superpower comes with a degree of danger, especially if you’re not in the circle of trust or axis of favoured.

Unfortunately for America and now the greater world community, competing players wanted a slice of the good life.  The good life is never as it appears on an airbrushed filtered plastic filled canvas.  It didn’t take too long for the Planets self-righteous Police Force to be uncovered as corrupt corruptible and structurally weakened.  Teetering on its own bloated obese image, continuing to globalize its smirking sweet elitist saccharin self and poking in places where it really didn’t belong, finally exposed its artificial greatness.

It is only the opinion of this writer in believing that the beginning of the end of the Great American Experimental Civilization happened when its structural image was literally psychically taken down, collapsed.  Whatever or whoever was responsible for exploding the myth of security might and surety, started a generational process guaranteeing that America as a symbol of strength equality individualism and free speech would be eroded.  A Nations people would be pitted against each other, in division and distress.  What one had inflicted on others was returned with interest.

The great cause and effect cheese grater of life has taken to good old Uncle Sam and shredded his red white and blue into a more muted unpleasant colour.  Something has become quite rancid and distasteful on the palate.   An old joke asks. 

‘What’s brown and has holes in it?’

​Image credit.  https://imgur.com/gallery/4diPLkp
          

Anyone who’s been in the real playground of life knows there comes a time when a school bully must be confronted or avoided.  Unfortunately avoidance will not appease, diplomatic negotiation is laughable.  Hoping the buffoon will tire is simply, well forget that.  In the majority of situations gender male is visually the most prominent.  Females have their own insidious versions of bullying, most of which is done in the shadowy silent world, but its males who really excel due to their biology and testosterone chemical combination.  They are a slice of societies syndrome types from birth backward, a growing mass who continue to bully into adulthood and beyond.  Yes, they are deemed to be cowards who surround their pathetic ego with a battalion of Constable Cowards and Major meatheads.  But they are very real, very present in the formative lives of youth, very clearly dangerous to society and now increasingly gender bender bullying the world at large.

The lag in human evolution keeping pace with a rapidly growing awareness of chaos is causing a convergent imbalance, a separation spawning more and more chaotic events and characters.  Instead of embracing the reality facing our growing understanding, we are now at the verge.  Looking backward and running backward like reactive agents to what we perceive as comfortable and predictable.

​Stepping once again into the frightened void are the same old populist players in different form.  They never went away; they just re-emerged when the condition was right, for them.

Yet what’s most uncomfortable about the bully nature is not that they actually exist, it’s the fact that they are true seekers of full on self serving happiness.  Whether they obtain happiness on a generally consensus agreed level or not isn’t for any other to know, given that happiness is a very subjective solitary sensation.  A sadist can really get off in a very private sensational way, so who is the ultimate truthful judge.

Aren’t we all in danger of becoming a version or another in the endless manifestation of what makes a bully, in an age where self-gratification is quite frankly a right, an expectation of entitlement?  In a climate of celebratory adulation of attention, getting physically noticed requires methods that if not deliberate, certainly play on the rim of bullying.         

Human societies evolved to be egalitarian.  They had to develop a sense of reasoning, a battle for equality and balanced survival, or perish in chaotic anarchy, ultimate survival of the brutal bully.  That war, on standing with and up for the down and trod on, has continued, until now.

Now the reality is murky not clear.  Fake can be real, lies can be true, right can be wrong, left can be right.  Along with this chaotic ramping up has come a reality of stratospheric attention seeking.  Competition on everything is fuelling a stampede.  A get out of my way mentality, I will just ride over you to get want I want.

There’s a huge risk in an actual truth that you’re not here to make anyone other than yourself happy.  If that’s a biological reality the risk isn’t how to make you happy.  The danger of our modern time is what you will do to others, meaning all others, to obtain your happiness at the risk of theirs.   

Image credit. www.pinterest.com

There’s a small, by most migratory levels, movement happening.  It’s a growing generational genre of sorts, increasing in popularity in reaction to the instability of these unpredictable times.

Preppers are futurists, individuals who are regarded by many as nothing more than paranoid panic pussies.  Unfortunately television and documentary media have painted them as a little left of sanity. 
Prepping, bug out, survivalism, doomsday or whatever the terminology, reality in the mind is the motivation that drives individuals who are now growing into groups of like minded people.  These are the new ‘move your shit’ at a moment’s notice types, who are convinced that a coming list of unavoidable crisis is imminently about to explode and rain down upon humanity.

Unfortunately the up-front in your face prepper image is coloured in a redneck, roadkill eating and gun toting maniac hue.  Unstable with a brain the size of a fruit bat, they are portrayed as obsessed and off their head about off the grid preparedness.  They have been a ratings tool for cable television growth.

But there are others, a silent lot who are not decorating some bunker with sustainable prepper products, combustible materials of organic or otherwise origin and enough weaponry to wipe out the leftover zombie invasion. 

Moving from one possibly targeted country to a perceived neutral one, staying on the move with no one isolated base, residing on a completely fluid surface and medium. 

​These are some of the other options that humans are contemplating and already living.  On a very shaky world and on a shrinking surface there are very few places to hide.  For the plethora of 21st century preppers their choices to run, hide, retreat and defend are rapidly narrowing and expanding at the same time.

​Welcome to the future idiotic reality that humans have created from our frightened mind.

Image credit.  http://www.doomsdaynews.com/doomsday-prepping/      
          

​A waft of convenient causality floats in the face of who would benefit from gassing a group of innocents and making it large enough to push buttons and flick switches. 
Dropping your MOAB to goad the Russians into dropping their FOAB to get the North Koreans to launch their ICBM to invite rogue states to upscale their WMD. 
A reductionist would deduce that everyone involved in the theater had/has an ongoing interest in escalating and fomenting the continuance of conflict. 
Its very difficult for rational beings to actually accept that the architects and major characters in this play, really really don't care.

FTLOG just leave the world alone and GFYS.

Image credit.  http://www.indystar.com/opinion/varvel/

If the character looks familiar it’s purely by accident, although the substance is uncannily and eerily on trend when it comes to blunder bluster and ludicrousness.

The late Peter Sellers skit is a joy to watch.  Please take a few minutes to bow in the presence of greatness (BITPOG).  “THAR SHE BLEEEEEWWWWS,” cannot be skimmed over without a humorous analogy of a launched blow up parrot mirrored against very real Tomahawk ballistic missiles.  The collusion with a Putineskish like persona is just too close to let go.  In short the whole scene is made for our present times.

Unfortunately these are not humorous times.  Funny could be applied but certainly not in a haha way.  The characters in today’s play are from an era when Peter Sellers, John Wayne and real men where top of the pile, looking down upon and crapping on all below them.  Sellers and Wayne are long dead and the same fate, hopefully soon, awaits the attention seeking movie star wannabes, who now politically run and ruin the world.  They are now sad old men, holding on to some long gone reality.  Struggling now to maintain erections and worthiness, alleviated by fucking young women, singing karaoke and having their dying egos stroked and pumped up by a long list of licking lemmings.

Pumping the Parrot is an old worn out technique in the distraction playbook.  It had its time and its use is boring and transparent in the extreme.  Unfortunately it’s not at all surprising that these old men are using it, over and over.  It’s all they know and they categorically refuse to accept change and diversity.  So it’s not at all surprising that what was old and worked is just repackaged new again, now. 

​With a whole new generation of unknowing fools, what better way to sell them sugar coated shit?  Just Pump up a load of Parrots with fear and fury warheads.  Then sit back, launch them and laugh along with your video tape and vinyl record era buddies.

  
  

It’s very easy and virtually unavoidable to be a little despondent.  If reports about the state of human behavior are to be believed, then it’s inevitable.    

Unless you’re already hunkered down in a comfortable cave or already in your bug out bunker, your present state of sanity at the crap floating around must be a little bit bendy indeed.
Unless you’re a gestating fetus or already dead, you fall into that great swath of fully aliveness and therefore have access to what is happening.  Unless you’re really good at not giving a nugget of dry shit about what’s going on or you’re basically a prime time ungrateful gonad.   Then you will very likely be picking up on a degree of planetary pressure and building global negativity.

As of April 2017 human population worldwide officially squeezes in at 7.5 billion.  Due to illness, poverty, incarceration, persecution, let’s rule out 3.25 billion as unable to feel anything.  Unable to affect any change in regard to what’s happening and unable to influence where the shit is flowing. 

Rule in 2 billion who can clearly see what’s going down and really want to do whatever is required to course change the tsunami of Crapzilla.  Unfortunately this very large group are splintered geographically and neutered by their supposed democratic political masters.  Any protests they locally mount are not globally coordinated enough to obliterate the fear mongered politically created machine.
Rule out 1 billion who actually hope that things are going to be fine.  That it’s all going to work out, having desperately chosen a faith based option about those in power.  Those who also believe that having a positive outlook will conquer any and all negative events. 
Another billion subtracted due to non-voting age or too old and way beyond and completely over it all.

Left now with two hundred fifty million, these are the millions of minions who serve and support the thousands who are the true psychopaths.  The ones referred to as they those them.  Masters and mistresses of mayhem type, who are definitely not like the billions of other types.
It’s always been this way but now it’s just more, much more volatile chaotic and much more dangerous.  It seems that everything is adding up at its own pace, in its own direction.

Unfortunately in the totality of all, is not sum added value.  It’s the fears hopes and dreams of billions, destroyed by the evil of millions
 
 

                       
​With a degree of emotion, incredulous exasperation, weary resignation and a large expulsion of cynical phlegm.  We find ourselves nearly sixty (60) years on still getting off, on getting right up in the face and orifices of each other’s affairs. 

Terms such as slow learner, retarded, disabled and handicapped went backward in the history book of evolved learning and respectful awareness.  What the masses rightfully demanded for and on behalf of those who fully deserved more, have meekly and equally settled for less from those who are elected to supposedly know better. 

The urge to believe faithfully in those we employ to rule over us is staggering.  How easily manipulated and stupid we prove to be.  Exactly how they hope and perceive we actually are.

Someone back there not that long ago, obviously negated to place all their atoms in a row when they put together the survival blueprint for Nuclear Holocaust.  Those cutting edge drills, donning suffocating gas masks, literally diving under a school desk and biting firmly down on your anal sphincter.  All smartly designed as a panacea for the impending and imminent mushroom plume

Nothing and everything has changed in the preceding years.  We are still talking up war and its associated atrocities, still creating new wonderful methods of killing and still dreaming up deplorable means of delivering death and destruction.

It’s probably way past time to drag the heavy lessons of history to the table of tolerance.  It’s probably beyond time to start a sensible dialogue.   But it’s probably right about time to pick up that weighty book of demeaning historical terminology.  To forcefully use it in pulverizing the heads of those cretins, those idiots whose blatant actions befit the words perfectly.

Image credit.  Pinterest     
  

​What form doth vengeance present, its face a smiling guise
A moment of sudden force, its force a brutal surprise
Flesh, bone and mind, a casualty left behind
Power, control, oppress, designed to destroy and grind

Innocence repealed, a damaged soul recoiled
Senses cramped in pain, a being most soiled
Justification, a focus most direct, don’t see
Pain inflicted, arrow from its quiver, ripple set free

Weeping sore, poison extracted, poultice prepared, for you
Pestilence pervades, rancid aroma enters on cue
Your conscience, in quandary, nostrils filled with fear
You judge yourself, yourself convicted, you hear

We are all guilty of submitting to distraction, it’s the unavoidable reality of falling under the bus of avoidance.  It’s a reality that’s swallowing time, stripping society of any cohesive equilibrium and punching gaping holes of confusion in all forms of daily life.

Forget tipping points, balance, cycles, interdependence, bell curves, pie charts, trends.  Distraction isn’t some grand plan thought up and implemented by the ubiquitous ‘they and them’.  Machiavellian and malevolent forces are very real indeed, capable of creating hellish happenings.  It’s their actions that add to the reality pile making distraction a more palatable reality.

It’s very easy to fall into the theory that distraction is there to mask cover and obliterate reality.  It’s there because reality has changed to be immediately accessible and ever more present.  It’s this overwhelming bombardment that gives distraction its addictive appeal.  

Distraction isn’t fake news and neither is climate change or suffering in Syria.  Distraction isn’t false and neither is poverty and pain.  Distraction isn’t unreal and neither is loss and loneliness.

Distraction is an attempt to run away from life’s uploaded endless reality, an overloaded beast spawning baby versions of evolving realities that are growing up way too fast for us to handle and control.

​Distraction is gaining traction, gathering momentum and pulling us all along with it, into the latest evolution of turbo charged realities.