The Fierce Fun  of Man Gods of the Globalized Nakba (21st C. Version)

Man gods  therefore, surely are rather to be pitied than condemned; but those that flatter them, deserve both the reprehension and detestation of the public, as well as Calumniators, and all others, who are so much the enemies of their Sovereign, as to disguise or conceal the truth from him.’

‘The Prince’, Niccolò Machiavelli (paraphrased)

Slip into silent slumber
Sail on a silver mist
Slowly and surely your senses
Will cease to resist

Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman

I believe in Covid-19, the Danger Almighty,

Terror of heaven and earth.

I believe in The Vaccine, his only Son, our Lord.

I believe in the World Economic Forum,
the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation,
the World Health Organization,
the digitizing of loneliness,
the covering of our faces,
and the lockdown everlasting.

Amen.

Prof. Graeme MacQueen

Mine motivation to write this small article being as born of a sense of horror  and  distinct smidgens of disgust occasioned  as precipitated thru  ‘having ‘ to look and  listen to  calumnious ‘Man Gods’ of the  early 21st C. ; such the ‘loom on high’  of  the austerity of ‘neoliberal’ hegemony’ represented  resented  -and these small quarters sure  they ain’t unique such sense of  the ‘new normal’, such the force feed  of but fear/calumny resisted?

– Let alone the command but by man gods ‘Obey!’ demandant  of at least one  more polemical rant such the ‘stick in the craw’ precipitated oft of ‘gag’ to point of ‘dry boak’ occasioned, let further alone ‘do not question! command being an anathema to mine pretensions concerning ‘life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness’/liberté, égalité, fraternité.

– Such as ‘we’ moved  to ‘counterpunch’ by some vision of some infinitely gentle, infinitely suffering thing indeed – and most certainly  not in the ‘sense;’ of the lust satanic as pathologically apperceived egocentric as demanding externalization form of  even more money for nothing and more kicks got for free?

Such the war/ racket austere as dire straits of  abuse, control and manipulation we find ourselves to be in, such the sovereignty as debased primarily thru usury as much as God effaced by mere man gods as  but ‘apostles’ form of spawn of satan more to be pitied?

(For they already condemned)

Cinematographically as metaphorically   this ‘new normal’  such the ‘zeitgeist’  of the 21 st C.  being as some hybrid vigor  ideological attained as but  a wasteland ;  rendered somewhere between ‘They Live‘ and ‘Invasion of the Body Snatchers’ as ‘therapy’ goes genetic as ubiquitous such the ‘cinéma vérité’?

Such the ‘more pricks than kicks’ now, such the austerity experienced way of ‘dulce et decorum es transhumanist‘, such the bare brick wall seen?

Such the  corporatist ambience of cultural hegemony philanthropic as omnipresent– for ‘satanic muppetry’ as a ‘show’ in a theater of war ‘ it’ as ‘das id’ now playing out globally as painefully; as a ‘reductio‘ as much as’ plus sur la meme chose’  constituting a  globalized  tragedy as of a ‘black block’ hitherto unprecedented looming panopticonic in sheer scale of  monstrous absurdity-  and as  most befitting   of moritaten/ballad of death as of  Frank Wedekind  perchance most notably wrote as below, ( is it not apposite as prescient?)-  and such  the satanic claw up the ass of man gods having fierce fun  as condemned to reiteration /externalisation way of  ‘transhuman dancers’ as can worship as adorn with song and sound such the ‘ trillionaire muppetry’ decried?

(‘Doot doot de doot de doot  doot do‘, so it goes alliterative…)

As  of a denouement of technological determinism under an empirical tree?

Wedekind, he puts it , such the ‘plus ça change‘  far more succinctly abstract  as perspicacious in  ‘The Executioner’s Song’ ?:

It looms on high that black block
We judge heartily but pierce
Blood red heart, blood red frock
Our fun is always fierce.
Any enemy of the time
Will bloodily executed be.
Whoever is a friend of death,
Adorn with song and sound will we.

‘Friends of death’: they constituting as thru austerity imposed as much  as of a ‘great reset’ – and you and I, or ‘ours ‘not to be in it,’ such the democide, such the cull, such the ‘surplus population’,  such  the  menticidal ‘Nakba’ driven by man gods’ as ‘masters of the universe’, such their vanities, such ‘their genes’?

Such the shocking genocide as much as  the menticide, such the fierce fun as of Eros denied?

The masses as Demos ‘driven ‘from jobs as ‘driven’ from  their homes or countries,  ‘Rights’  being ‘driven’ away; such the ‘Nakba”,  the ‘unvaxxed’ as ‘enemies of the time’ staring ‘apartheid’ and blood red heart as the frock of denouncement/condemnation/ hatred in the ‘face’ of such beastly beatitudes driving – no  vaccine passports for them, no entry into such as restaurants,  bars , sporting events , public transportation, communal gatherings  particularly ‘religious’ -‘ Show me your papers/ your mobile phone  app!’ as a barrier on movement, against ‘freedom of assembly?

Protest zone’ is dead, baby, protest zone is dead ‘ such the pulp of non fictional  panopticonic pragmatism hitherto unprecedented as to a demarcation of man god territory attained dystopian?

It not enough that you supplicate by way of wearing a mask!

Such the drive of gene therapy as targets hearts and minds indeed; such the gender dyspshoria as but aspectual of ‘woke culture’ as  part the ideological vanguard as fun of this fierce Globalized Nakba, so it goes?

-‘Are we human or are  we  but transhuman dancer’ -such the loom of the black block of the man gods as killers ; such the divide et impera?

Unwanted and looked down upon  by  man god hegemons as  but a ‘surplus’ such the loom– is this not comparable to a ‘Nakba‘ – are the unvaxxed as ‘covidiots’ not now the ‘new Palestinians’ on a global scale, such the fierce fun of the man god as friends of death; such the calumny?

Are the ‘vaxxed’  nought  but to be ‘ the willing executioners’ of the wet dreams of technocratic man gods such the casus belli?

Such the ‘no regrets’/je ne regrette rien’?

Not so much ‘drill baby, drill!’ ‘as ‘jag baby, jag!‘ such the ‘deepwater horizon’ as of oil become  blood under man god black block?

Such the bonfire as to a globalization burning by way of austere externalization as but man gods as ‘masters of the universe’ they so vain?

– For it is ‘we’ sense of Zamyatin whom  to pay the costs of man gods’ vanities and their criminal as inhumane stateless degeneracy?

This; sense  our past being rendered as ‘bastardized’ a foreign country to us  as victims under the predatorial  neoliberal hegemony of the ‘new normal’ as but a Nakba evidencing  abuild back better’? More apposite the fierce fun the alliteration ‘bring black block blood blues back’? (For they never went away, such the reprise​, such the tragedy become absurdity, such the crescendo ‘building’ as metastasizing towards an apotheosis such the sic transit man gods synonymise a ‘blue screen’)

‘And what of the world that I used to know, which I can no longer provide to my children? I am aware that no place or time remains the same, that the past is a foreign country. But the speed and extreme language of this cultural shift betray its inorganic nature: it is forced, patently unhealthy, stark and tinged with hysteria. It is not a natural evolution, and I know without a doubt that things will be tougher for my children than they were for me. Imagining them trapped in this authoritarian madhouse of limitless manufactured civil unrest is concerning, to say the least.

Yet, expressing concern is criticism, and increasingly no criticism will be allowed.’

The above as  one  truly perspicacious as an articulate  ‘Friend of Life’  name of Brett Sinclair recently scribed.

These stateless bastards as  ‘man gods’,  they in process of rendering under cultural hegemony the past but a ‘foreign country’ as ‘globalized’ , as interpolated ,  as stateless; ‘they’ the very same bastards that making out like bandits/ corporatist gangsters from the euphemism of ‘resource transfer’; they the man gods of the ‘new normal’  as killing as driving us/the U.S.  such the philanthropy instanced ‘softly’ under fucking awful austerity  as under fearful as shocking technocratic trillionaire  muppetry: for ‘truly’ such the ordo ab chao has the centrifugal spin of calumny as much as resource  transfer entailed that the scum has ‘risen’ geopolitikal as ‘man gods’ instanced; such the ‘fierce fun’; such the pitiful effigy of bought and paid for corporatist mainstream media being as but a medium of adornment by way of song and sound  resounding globally concerning the  stateless/ transhuman friendship of death precipitate thereof a ‘message’ if not a genetic massage as ‘therapeutic’ demanded under vanity attained?

Qua:

Friends of death rule  now.; such the medium as the message is the massage. This, with apologies to McLuhan for the mangle.

Friends of death?

Aka ‘Riders on the storm of Thanatos’ – such the doors of hellish apperception ‘illuminated’ Luciferian?

As T.S. Eliot puts it:

What might have been is an abstraction

Remaining a perpetual possibility

Only in a world of speculation.

What might have been and what has been

Point to one end, which is always present

Footfalls echo in the memory

Down the passage which we did not take

Towards the door we never opened

Into the rose-garden.

 

Apropos  this ‘Great Reset’  sure ain’t no ‘rose-garden’  – but yet as full of thorns as of hypodermic pricks as much as of pinheads such the ‘What the fuck?’

Further apropos:

Once ‘newscasters/anchors’;  now reduced as driven to reading the script line by line and  word for word  stenographic as but  ‘dead man walking, talking, reeling, rocking head doll/muppet deadbeat’, once ‘journalists/investigators’; now reduced as driven to following the editorial line as but a ‘yellow hack ‘such the  road  bricked by soulless whoredom,  once ‘politicians/proxy representatives the will of the People’; now reduced  as driven to following party line ( ‘bipartisan’, indeed as the control of opposition, so it goes,  and as but another  ‘kiss up/ kick down’ obsequious  toady to technocratic corporatism, the more ‘senile’  as ‘stateless’ the better )’-  this, as the ‘new normal’ goes, such the ‘ fucking fierce fun’ of  the ‘Global Nakba‘?

Once were Human, alas – as ‘Gollum’ once a ‘Hobbit’  under such the one as rules them all?

While there a  ‘ring’ it ain’t no  ‘halo’  – but rather a ‘hello!’ to  sellout’ as abrogative’ – as bloody execution demands sacrifice under ‘ritual’?

Love for sale, young love for sale’ resounding as resonating, alas the austere transhumanism in the shockingly awful  geopolitikal realm of the man gods as stateless bastards rampant?

As  Graeme MacQueen puts it above the abuse of trust now ongoing, concerning the loom of the executioners black block as construed herein, indeed a parody of religious belief. Only Science as much as Technology can ‘save’ us now such the technocratic religion of ‘man gods’ as apostles of satan determined to reduce this wonderful planet to but a hell on Earth?

As POTUS 16 put it:

‘You can fool all the people some of the time, and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.

–  the point being of ‘surplus population’ under Technocracy: to eliminate all but ‘those who can be fooled all the time’ – into  permanent  as ‘life long’ man god worship?

Not so much ‘bend over and kiss your ass goodbye’ as ‘roll up your sleeve and kiss your mind and humanity goodbye’ and supplicate before man gods as but philanthropic little pricks with needles?

Such the Nakba now going Global  – as  much as is graphene oxide, gene therapy and ‘5G’, alas?

For you can ‘ psychotronically lead’ a transhuman fool to toxic poison  – and ‘it’ will drink /consume it  as ‘water’ asagua de la vida?

Toxic shite is good for you‘, so it goes?

– Thus spake the man gods as ‘ecce homo‘ looking down upon ‘surplus population’?

– Such the fierce fun down on the Gloabilzed  Transhuman Farm’ ,contemptoraneous (sic)  as the transit goes concerning ‘Gloria Mundi,‘ –  and technological determinism demanding  ‘friendship with death’, alas the sickness as much the prognosis?

It is being so cheerful, indeed, sense of Martin Luther, that keeps these small quarters going.

‘What the fuck, you gotta laugh​’, indeed.

Stephen Martin can be reached at: stephenmarti@yahoo.com

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