Hard Rain Dance

Exorcism BoogieWoogie. Aghast and incandescent, the Radiant Twins and their familiars, the Lofty Worms, have boarded the Avenging TeddyCloud and taken to the high heavens via the Vortex, in quest of The Voices of Uncomplicated Reason, there to dance the banishing Jive of Puncturing the Bubble, for to exorcise the craven, demented, all-pervading bunk that is currently strangling private* and public life. We shall join them shortly.
And here’s the straw that broke the Twin’s otherwise resilient back:

And: *

We are doomed, you know. Really and truly doomed. I can’t see a way to come back from this kind of fascistic balderdash. It’s here to stay. The Pantomic administered the first cut and this will complete the general lobotomy. The next generation will grow up without a fully-connecting brain, I dare say. And soon it’ll be either comply, fully and unconditionally, or is the wall for you, matey. Oh, well. Stick to Mehitabel. Now more than ever.
Ognuno sta solo sul cuor della terra
trafitto da un raggio di sole:
ed è subito sera.

Salvatore Quasimodo

Selective Hells

Demons Du Jour. aka The Bug’s Lament Part II, aka The Shape of Things to Come.
And it will get worse, I daresay. Even good old Mozilla and Duck Duck Go have joined in the hysterical scramble to establish their Russophobe credentials. Oh, well…
Black sable one day, next day it goes into hock,
but I’m here.
Top billing Monday, Tuesday you’re touring in stock,
but I’m here.

Stephen Sondheim. I’m Still Her

Webs Of Deceit

The Spider & The Fly. ‘ere. In case you never knew or had just conveniently forgotten:
The United States engaged in forty-six military interventions from 1948–1991, from 1992–2017 that number increased fourfold to 188.
The United States has been involved in many military and clandestine interventions throughout its history. These interventions are done through well-coordinated military operations in response to developing situations or through clandestine operations; intelligence or military actions carried out in such a way that the operations go unnoticed by the general population or specific enemy forces. 
The 19th century formed the roots of United States interventionism, which was largely driven by economic opportunities in the Pacific and Spanish-held Latin America. The early decades of the 20th century saw a number of interventions in Latin America by the U.S. government. And since then the United States has continued to intervene in foreign countries through bomb attacks, sabotage and attempted regime change. (Victor Mochere)
A very good listing, sadly not up to date owing to the delicious William “Billy the Kid” Blum being dead.
A rather charitably biased version of it. And misses the meddling with the Uranian “Revolution” of 2014 and the famous Victoria “Fuck the EU!” Nuland/Geoffrey Pyatt’s little inspirational exchange:
(Which has to be true, since even the Holy Guardian reported it, innit?)
Voila! The rest/more of the same you can look it up for yourselves…si le coeur vous en dit.



This is for all those two-faced interfering Guardians-of-Democracy gits wot live in glasshouses and persist in throwing stones. May you all get shingles!

Buddy you’re a boy make a big noise
Playin’ in the street gonna be a big man some day
You got mud on yo’ face
You big disgrace
Kickin’ your can all over the place
We will we will rock you
We will we will rock you

Buddy you’re a young man hard man
Shoutin’ in the street gonna take on the world some day
You got blood on yo’ face
You big disgrace
Wavin’ your banner all over the place
We will we will rock you
(Sing it out!)
We will we will rock you

Buddy you’re an old man poor man
Pleadin’ with your eyes gonna make you some peace some day
You got mud on your face
Big disgrace
Somebody better put you back into your place
We will we will rock you
(Sing it!)

We will we will rock you
We will we will rock you
We will we will rock you


Mass Madness

Mediated Madness. A long, long time ago, around the time of the frenzy-whipping/consensus-engineering/war-dancing for the brain-sick, unjustified and thoroughly illegal invasion of Iraq, I was listening to the Today program (just to see what the enemy was up to, you understand) and a Big PunditMan (can’t remember who, nor do I want to remember…) said that hypocrisy was a wonderful thing. Imagine, he said, what a mess would it be if everybody went around saying precisely what they thought!
And so, here we are again. It’s no longer so much that we seem to be unable to learn from history, no matter how recent it may be, it’s that we are wilfully unwilling to even consider that the sky might have another side, that we (that is our masters and their interests) are NOT the “good guys” and that every US-promoted and/or backed “intervention”, either direct or by proxies, has brought nothing but unimaginable destruction and misery to the wretched intervenees.
Or perhaps this capacity to see the whole picture, the details, the fine particles, the nuances, the gradients and the subtleties, the rights and the wrongs, has already been bred out of the species. It certainly has from the MSM and its peripheral fauna. Instead, what rules the world now is the vapid, fatuous clear-cut dichotomy of the “either or”, the “you are with us or you are with the enemy”, the “us good, you bad” protocols. That and the Nixon Paradigm, of course: ‘If the president does it then is not a crime’ aka “Caesar can do no wrong”.
And don’t even get me started on the hysteria. If the MSM’s “coverage” of the Pantomic was hysterical (as well as intentionally inaccurate), the almost universal “reporting” of this caper has gone from hysteria to rabid frenzy. If the witch-hunt pushed by the MSM in the last Exercise in Terror was neurotic and shameful, this time the utterly one-sided harassment is beyond language. Oh, well…
And here’s good old Scott Adams, father of Dilbert and Dogbert and Catberg and all sort on groovy Bergs, on the subject of hysteria (back in 2017, no less!).

Have a spiffing, sane life…if you can get it. Love and blinis from The Wilderness.


Siamese Trees. aka Cada uno en su casa y Dios en la de todos. For Ukraine 3.0, of course. And for Yemen and for Syria and for all the other wretched counties afflicted by the Masters of the Universe’s thirst for power and domination and meddling and demented delusions of ‘democracy’ exporting. Plague take them all! (The MotU, that is.)

Cada mochuleo a su olivo & Cada uno en su casa y Dios en la de todos. Old Spanish proverbs. Each owl to his olive tree & Each in his own house and God in all of them.


Twin Hearts. AntiValentine 2022. And here we are again, my friends, taking the piss of that goofy invented tradition that’s Valentine’s Day. Just like last year, though, it’s hardly worth the effort to mock it, so somnolently it’s being pushed by the Holy Markets. Why, going by what I see on the idiot-box, only the greeting cards sphere and a couple of jewellery retailers are making any effort to encourage the congregation to part with their lolly. Even the chocolate mafia is being oddly apathetic. Could it be because the so-called “social” distancing and the masquerade flimflam are having some pretty lousy effect on folks? After all, who can (or even wants to) snog through a sodding mask or hold a hand that smells of disinfectant gel? Will lovers refuse to make love to their darlings unless they can show a triple vax certificate? Is there life before death?

Anyways. We are being pretty low-key ourselves, as we are deeply engaged in more essential stuff. Like surviving the new tricks & wiles and the general chicanery of our local Idiocracies. Still, you’re all very welcome to pop in to my garden party, from Friday 11th to Monday 14th until 7pm. The Shoggies have promised to stage a new tableau mourant and with a bit of luck you might even get a goody bag or a souvenir if I can persuade the Mi-Go to do their magic. The Bach concert will have to come from my CD collection and you can bring your own poetry, si le cœur vous en dit. Have a spiffing life. And keep trucking…:-)

PS. This will have to serve as the obituary for the divine Lata Mangeshkar, who died recently, aged 92 (well done, girl) after a lifetime of giving enormous pleasure to us poor wretched lovers of what used to be known as Bombay Talkies playback music. Bumba speed, my darling and thanks for the audio memories. XXX

Big Truths

Messengers. For the lovely (and ineffable) Premila, Da (of the Desert), Eric Fromm and, for the pure hell of it and because he got the ball rolling, for poor old dead Terenci Moix. The caption is not a pun, not really; or not only. Meet Eleuterio, the free & easy clairvoyant, emissary to the Fringe Badlands Numina. He reports stuff as and when has been decreed by said High Spirits. He has a girlfriend called Cassandra whom nobody likes because she goes around saying things like ‘Dooooom’d we be! Doooooom’d! I’ve got a touch of the dooooms!.’ But Eleuterio loves her dearly because she’s kind and sweet and funny and in between gloomy prophecies she mixes the meanest bullshots this side of the Delta (of the Mighty Urook). Have a sponditious week.

The Tempest?

Winds of Change.

Strong wind destroy our home
Many dead, tonight it could be you
Strong wind, strong wind
Many dead, tonight it could be you

Ah, if only! But, but! Hope springs eternal.





Not Only…

Take Two. And here be another, slightly less gloomy version. You may vote if you have nothing better to do.