This is the premiere video for my latest idea to do a “Self-Portraits” series of animated music videos. Instead of the regular constant fractal zoom style, this style makes me think of a living postcard of sorts. Cheers to my old friends, Future Islands, for the tunes, & for still making great music. We all have come so far from those balmy salad days in college. Good times. Crazy that was 20 years ago when my college career wrapped up with a 7-year degree in Creative Writing. It’s proven utterly useless. What I learned in college has little to do with anything academic, to say the least. Can’t party like we did anymore. We were the last of the raging college partiers of yesteryear. We all went out in our own respective blazes of glory. What an era that was. If I could go back, I would’ve been in Art School from the get-go. I was so lost back then though…the fogs from childhood head injuries, along with the drugs, it was like I was on some kind of reckless auto-pilot. I cringe when I think about some of the experiences form back then. The cringe is fleeting though, because if you hang on to your past, you poison your future. The past is gone, gone forever, it happened, it’s over, there’s nothing left to blame and/or to not forgive yourself for. Every day is a new day, with a new slate, if you want it to be so. Be the Creator of your own world, via the guidance of the Great Creator. Creation, creation is the Divine Light, the Quantum Spark, the electricity of ethereal Love. Destruction is the darkness, the abysmal darkness, the Great Shadow, the Evil, the Dark Matter, & consciousness is an energetic holographic expression of the eternal friction between light & dark. Which one are you? Are you a Creator? Or are you a destroyer? The choice has always been yours. The door to the cage has always been open little bird. You simply have to fly out, out of the shadow of your own cage into the endless summer sky enlightened by the Sun. On that note, I’m going to wrap this one up. I’ll post the lyrics below. My friend Sam, the lead singer of Future Islands, is a brilliant lyricist. There was a time when he & I would do blow all night & talk about life & God & women & this 3d matrix we’re all in together. Midnight summer nights in G-Vegas. In many aspects, there was a golden magic to that time, that I was aware of but he captured, & then rode the wave all the way to the mountaintop. I’ve known some very interesting souls in this life, & I expect to encounter more in a future unknown. Until next time fam…be good. More to come, stay tuned. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
By the shattered coils of a mother’s arms, all swept-inside like the rosary, that fell away when her girlish charms, cried out to take on motherhood. She waits by the windowsill, all wrapped in white and puzzling… What happened to the child inside? …who ran the streets and the days at night…
She says, “Nothing seems the same,” & I can’t change a thing. My body’s like a wave, breaking to the sea. She says, “Everything seems strange,” locked behind the years, but life is ours to find, in the days at night…
There passes a stranger every evening, he walks himself on a silver-leash, & in his head, the worlds asleep, & the wrinkles in his hands believe, when he was young, he had a dream, to be a star, on the movie-screen, but now it all seems a silly lie, as he walks alone & the days on fire
He says, “Nothing seems the same,” & I can’t feel a thing. My body’s like a wave, caving in on me. He says, “Everything seems strange,” holding back the tears, but he smiles just like a child, in the days at night…
Mother of song, you’ll find the right way to cherish in dreams, all of the snow frozen. Father in time, you’ll find a world that’s so perfect and cold, all of the snow frozen.
No colors in the cybernated standish today, just black & white…as the paint fades…(enter the piano)…leaving only ebony, & ivory, “in perfect harmony,” as Paul & Mike might say, now fade fade fade out the colorama…
To read this bullshit article via Yahoo News, click HERE
Despite my previous post, which CLEARLY exposed the pre-production of this Titanic sub event that was broadcast, cast broadly, like a spell, most of you STILL believe that fakery really happened, don’t you?…& with the mainstream news juggernaut STILL programming you all to believe that scripted events such as these are real, one could see why, right? Oh, it all looks so real, so really real though, right? Quite convincing, yes, as convincing as the magic of Hollywood, isn’t it?
Yours truly has fought like a hungry rabid lion trying to wake you people up to the Titanical depths of the fake news mainstream media Operation Mockingbird control machine(pun intended). Yes, that’s right, this narrator has fought, & fought, & fought, wielding my pen until the ink ran dry, attempting to awaken you all to the Great Deception of this pseudo-reality, & what do you most of you do?..you do nothing, other than accept it, & continue to comply. What else is there to say? Does it even matter? Nope, it doesn’t mean a thing, not a God-damned thing. Degenerate faggots are waving their shit-covered sodomite cocks in the faces of children, OF CHILDREN, at their sin-fest pride parades, & no one does a thing about it. Oh sure, there’s a fringe group of us that put out the messages, trying to raise awareness, denouncing what should be be denounced by all, but the sad truth is, that most of you do nothing. You don’t don’t seem to see/hear anything, other than what keeps you in a state of perpetual bliss. You just turn on your televisions, stay in your houses, consume consume consume, & then call that “life,” but people like yours truly are deemed the crazy ones, the ones who are out of line, we thought-criminals. When the bell finally tolls, & they come to wipe most of you out, rather than me getting the final “I told you so,” I’d rather trade it all just so that you people would wake the fuck up. You won’t though, the so-called “ruling elites” will fulfill their agenda, & everything you’ve all slaved so hard for, will be wiped away from their future history, like you never even existed.
I’ll be wiped away as well, of course, probably long before the end comes, because statistically, I should already be dead, like most of my friends. Just a matter of time, of borrowed time, before the final breath finally exhales, tainted with the sweet stench of my last smoke. I’ll leave a bill, a bill for a funeral & an urn, because a coffin is a waste of money. If you’re dead, who cares anyway? Throw me to a den full of necrophiliacs, or a pack of wolves, or into the ocean, chummed red with the blood of fresh fish, as frenzied sharks circle around & rip this lifeless body to pieces. Once you’re gone, you’re gone, & as it is in dreams, you have no recollection of even existing in this God-forsaken prison planet matrix, but my verbal epitaph, my final self-eulogy from yours truly to all of you is simply this: DO NOT GO INTO THE LIGHT. If any/all/none of you can somehow retain that little quip when it’s your respective turns, carry it with you, & abide it, because if you ignore what I say, & foolishly let yourself go into that bath-warm bliss, you will get recycled, & end up right back here in this 3d soul-trap, only to once again feed the beast via a tortured life of enslavement, which ultimately falls upon YOU, not the aforementioned Beast, the Great Recycler. Willfully going into the light, puts it all on YOU, & that’s the trap, that’s the trick from the Great Trickster, because by going into said light, by thine own accord, the Beast bears no guilt, & thus, bypasses God, & keeps the Great Mouse Trap full of souls, who do it again, & again, & again, until the end of time.
Or…maybe yours truly is absolutely insane, these thoughts are utterly delusional, & there’s no hope left for these fiery flying fingers. Either way, who cares? Your narrator here is only one, ONE soul, out of billions & billions of souls, all trapped, one way or another, within this inner/outer-dimensional 3d hell, way way wayyyyy down from whence we once were, leveled up in 5d, & maybe beyond that too. The 5th dimension is only the next bus stop, spatially, & then the 8th, then the 13th, possibly the 21st dimension, but beyond that is a kind of chaos that even a 13th-dimensional entity might now comprehend. This 3d human experience is as low as consciousness can possibly go, & if we were anything lower, we’d be the equivalent of a perfectly flat rock, with no volume, just flatness in flat world with no space to conceive of anything, anything at all. I bet none of you thought this article would take a sharp turn off the proverbial exit ramp into this town, did you? It’s as yours truly always says, we only turn the dial, left, right, a little more left, now back to the right again, until the static becomes the sacred geometry of a frequency that can be hooked, then bled it out, gutted, decapitated, filleted, & served up raw for all of you, & for none of you at all. “Just the way it is,” right?, as my favorite un-favorite saying goes. Maybe someone will write that pukeworthy defeatist expression on my tombstone, or the first nuclear bomb that drops when the depopulation agenda goes hot, & BOOM BOOM BOOM, the mushroom cloud spreads, radiating & eradicating everything with Chernobylian glory. Or maybe it was written on the needles they jabbed billions of you with already, as the nano-particles continue to self-replicate in your bodies, just waiting for the siren to sound so they can activate & complete their intended mission…then POOF…lights out, the door closes, & locks itself with one last slam as the walking dead rise.
Oh my, oh my, the time does fly, as do these salty stinking-sardined scissorhands, that slice this digital notebook into another saucy sautéed sashimi dish for you all to eat, or send back to the chef, so he can spit in it, & pretend he prepared it just as you asked it, only to be served right back to you, same as it was served before, as sacrosanct as a slow suicide. The restaurant is now closed, so pay your bill & get the fuck out. Until next time dear readers, never go to a restaurant right before they close, unless you want to eat a dish, garnished with spit. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🎏
“Be wary of closing time, before you order your food.” Fish F Fish🎏
I’m going to assume that most of you have no idea what the title of this article means, but no worries, the FisH™ abides, as always. Just click the link here, on the word METANOIA, & you now have a new word to add to your lexicon. It essentially means a spiritual breakthrough, but like THE BREAKTHROUGH, breaking on through to the other side, literally. Coincidentally, this happened to your truly not so long ago. It’s too bad it took so long for me to find that word for myself, because if I had, I might have made some better choices. Unfortunately, I came up in the public school system indoctrination camp, in the Dirty South, no less. Yep, my lily-white ass had to ride the big banana bus, right through the black part of town. Those old school descendants of southern slaves, oh man, they stunk so bad. I think I have some repressed PTSD from those times, & I haven’t thought about it for a long, long time, until just now-ish. This keeps happening, more & more, & at this point, it seems like a life review in real-time, & that’s no exaggeration.
Visions, vivid visions of memories, going way back, exponentially becoming more prevalent by the day. No idea why it’s happening, but I’m glad it is, despite my dire financial life situation. I also have a bit of anxiety, over the fact that as I mentioned earlier, it feels like a life review, of sorts. Is this what happens before you take your last breath? Yikes…I guess we’ll all know shortly, won’t we? Oh dang, I must mention the dreams, these insanely lucid dreams, & when I get to get a bit of sleep, I go beyond astral traveling. I have no recollection of being here, or anywhere, for that matter; it’s as if I am somewhere else entirely, maybe even another planet and/or dimension, I don’t know. I know I love being there though, & I surmise that when we dream, we’re in a space that encompasses 3d, 4d, & 5d, all at the same time. It’s not full 5d, because you’re subject to time, but 4d time is distorted because of the influence of the 5th dimension. Ever had dreams that seemed to last for hours, even days sometimes, then wake up & realize only an hour or so has gone by? That’s the distortion I just illustrated, time still moves forward, but forward like a drunk driver, all over the place. Of course, we can’t forget 3d, because as I said, it’s 3d, 4d, AND 5d, all at once, like some bizarre backroom liminal space. You still have a body, somewhat, & there are still elements of this 3d world, as far as landscapes, & solid objects, but you cannot manifest said elements, at will, as you can in 5d.
These dreams, these visions, my personal metanoia, the Big Breakthrough, what can it all mean? It’s all so surreal; I wish I knew why, ya know? I DO KNOW, & I know that I know, but no matter how hard I try, I just can’t remember. As 5d immortal soul beings, we know everything; we know music, the highest math, we know it all, but when we descend down here to 3d, POOF, it’s all gone, & this life should be a life of remembering what you already know, but it isn’t for most of us, right? Nope, this world has been hijacked, hijacked by soulless devil-worshipping scum, & turned into a prison planet. The divide between the proverbial guards, & us inmates, grows grander by the minute. That’s right, inmates, we’re all inmates down here in the peasantry, & the so-called “ruling elites,” they’re the guards. There’s fewer of them, a lot fewer, & yet they rule, but why? I’ll tell you why…it’s because they keep us inmates divided, & fighting each other, rather than us fighting them. We could take them all down in a an hour, but how can we, if we can’t unite as one undivided unified force? Divide & conquer, & it’s nature, the psychology behind it, oh yes, I figured it out. Goes beyond the Hegelian phrase, & even though many people have heard of “divide & conquer,” have they really thought it out? Think about the teaching, the instructions given to said ruling elites, reading book after book, listening to mentor after mentor, giving them the esoteric knowledge of how to divide the populous in order to rule them. It’s one of their secrets, one that I’ve discovered, & as promised in countless prior posts, I am here to find the truth, THE REAL TRUTH, then expose it by publishing these articles, passionately illustrating these truths, for all of you.
I want us ALL to know, to remember, not just them. FUCK THEM. Jesus Christ, it’s as if that movie They Live is a documentary, not science fiction. Could it be true? Could reptilian shapeshifters make up these “ruling elites,” & maybe that’s another buried treasure trove of knowledge & information? I’ll have to speak more on that next time. Before I wrap this Foozer up, I’ll try my best to detail one of these dreams that I can recollect. Ready? Set? GO GO GO…
This one that I remember well, & try to ponder often, also haunts me in a way. Picture a beachside bungalow, one story, a white house with an angled roof, atop a cliff, that overlooks an ocean. Think of Washington State, the coast, or Oregon even, with those steep cliffs that overlook the Pacific Ocean, & this house, like I said, was white in color, with two pillars prior to the front door. What happens when we go though this door? I’ll tell you, I’m in there, with one or two other dudes. We’re all connected in a way, but there were these rules, these unusually odd rules in this house. I recall a couch, a bed, & a TV broadcasting some kind of colored static alien program. I would be in all 3, as the time passed, as the roles seemed to rotate. The TV guy, the couch stretcher, & the sleepy sleeper. I can somewhat remember going outside a few times, & having this feeling of novelty, as if I was in some outerworldly dimension. I’m sure I could spice it up into some kind of short film, which I just texted myself to do, as a reminder, but I digress, now where was I? Oh yes, in & out of this house, rotating positions, & as I said, there were rules. What rules?
Great question, thanks for asking. The rules were unspoken, yet known, known like a second language. There was no question, the rules were the rules, & for some reason, I was…unable, you could say, to break them, yet never gave breaking the rules a thought, not even once. Maybe it was more like…obligations. Yes, forget the word “rules,” & think of them as obligations. Obliged to who though, or what? I have no better word than “God,” at least a god. These obligations weren’t written on the wall, there wasn’t a telephone in site, or a computer, & certainly no internet, yet, as I said, I was obliged to abide them, & could care less about no phones or internet. There never is in any of my dreams, never the phone, never the internet, never any concept of money, lending much to my theory that this world is artificial, & no longer following the natural order. Regardless, there I was, with the other guys, inside this little white house, then outside this little White House, for days & days in my dream, but all within an hour or so of 4d time in this 3d Clownworld. I told you, time is distorted when you dream because you’re much closer to 5d, where you higher self exists, your TRUE self, not this mask-wearing ego 3d-self I exist as, when I’m in the waking world. That’s right, days & days went by in this dream, & consistently consisted of the rotation. I can’t remember what happened when I watched the multi-colored static TV. I seem to remember it was possibly instructing me, but about what, I cannot tell you, because I cannot remember. It sucks that we can’t remember dreams as they totally happened; we can only recall pieces at best, & nothing at worst. Let’s illustrate this rotation now, shall we?
Moving on to the bed, rotation one. I don’t think I slept while laying down onto this bed in my dream. Can you imagine, sleeping in a dream, like some kind of Inception, but no, no sleeping. I’m pretty sure it was a full size bed, pushed up against the wall. Oh shit, let me describe the main room this all happened in, so you can add more detail to the figurative picture I paint for you, as if I were the great Bob Ross, & you were one of my art students, so let’s paint said picture. Opening the door of the house, you come to a large living room, the wallpaper is gaudy, like those flowery wallpapers you might find in circa 1970’s London, & to the left, is the bed, perpendicular to that wallflowered wall. One white pillow, & a white comforter, but no sheets, & it’s just as I said, a white comforter & a white pillow. Temperature didn’t appear to matter, however, so sheets or blankets mattered not. A foot or so from the bed’s foot, there was a walkway. No door, just a walkway, a dark walkway, as dark as a moonless night in a middle-of-nowhere sort of darkness. I don’t remember anyone going through said walkway from this languid living room, nor anyone, or anything, coming from the dark side into the living room. It was ominous though, I knew that. On the floor against the opposing wall from the front door, sat the television. One of those older TVs, circa 1987 perhaps, broadcasting this watercolored swirling static with symbols I cannot recall, only that they were popping up now & again. There was most certainly an…an…annnnn…an alien, yes, an alien feel to it, for lack of a better descriptor. The floor of this living room, by the way, was old hardwood flooring. Real wood mind you, but old wood, & I would guess it would be analogous to a 50-60 year old house here in 3d space. That’s the left side, & an intro to the tv space, but what is happening on the right wall?
The right wall is identical to the left wall, except instead of a bed, there’s a couch to stretch out on, which, as I said, was part of the rotation. There’s also another mysterious walkway, with nothing but the darkest of dark, should one choose to walk on through that portal to the darkness. It’s directly across from the walkway across the way, just past the foot of the couch. I know, I know, how can a couch have a “foot,” right? Wrong, & the answer is quite simple; the answer is…is that it faces the television. I don’t know what’s through these walkways, however, & neither do the other guys in this wonky white house with me. Wait a second, just who are the other guys in this rotating game, you might be wondering, yes? After countless hours of trying to remember, I think they were…well they were me, me in three different manifestations, like triplets, all bound to the obligations of the rotation. It almost felt like a video game , & the whole dream, consisted of me, myself, & I, either on the couch, or on the bed, or sitting a foot away from the TV on the floor, watching this bizarre, water-colored static emanating from the television. What can it all mean? Regardless, it’s one of the dreams I can recall very well, so I thought I’d share it with you, because the FisH™ abides, & you know this.
UPDATE: Yours truly had a fresh dream, that went on for a day or two, in the dream, but in real-time, ohhhhhhhh…maybe 2 hours, give or take 10 minutes. As I mentioned earlier, dream “time,” which is the 4th dimension, is distorted, due to the fact that you’re between the 3rd, 4th, AND 5th dimension. Anyway, I had this dream; I was at a party in this dream, a party of maybe 20-30-40 people, & somehow I knew them, ALL of them, despite never ever never meeting them in the waking world. How can that be? Who are these people? Nonetheless, there was love all around, & I was maybe 20 years younger than I am now, dressed in board shorts, sandals, & nothing else, & my board shorts were a bit big for me, so I had to keep pulling them up because my ass, & occasionally my shwing-shwang, kept popping out. No one seemed to mind though for as I mentioned, it was all love at this party. Again, there were no cell phones, no internet, & had no recollection of being here in this world, as if I truly was in another dimension. Oh, I forgot to mention this, I was there, but not quite all-the-way there, which gave me a sense of feeling kind of…drunkish, you might say. I wasn’t drinking; I wasn’t even interested in getting drunk, but my equilibrium was way off. Lots of stumbles, lots of malfunctions while trying to grab things, yet my mind head was completely sober. I could think like normal, but getting these thoughts to come out was proving very difficult. Maybe it was the time distortion, I don’t know, but regardless, I kept stumble-walking around this surreal party. A couple of girls, younger girls, were trying to get me to do the hat trick with them. They were wearing jeans, & tight tank-top shirts, one blue, & one red, & they wanted the big D, from me, obviously, but unfortunately, I never followed through. I feel like I changed my mind & went to look for them, but they were nowhere to be found. Bummer. Who else was at this party?
Great question, thanks again for playing. Oh let’s see, there was a hodgepodge of white dudes, black dudes, a bunch of hot white girls, & maybe one or two black girls, & they were all drinking from a big punch bowl that never seemed to run out of whatever the beverage was that was in there. I don’t recall drinking any, but as I said, my body felt “drunk,” for lack of a better term. It felt more like the feeling you get when you go heroic with Xanax. Your mind still functions in a relatively normal manner, but your body, your body stumbles. Bumping into walls, dropping things, & not giving a fuck, yes, that’s Xanax for you bubblegummers out there who have never taken it, much less in a large dose. I know the feeling all too well, sadly, so if I had to equate my physical state, it would be more like Xanax, rather than booze. Now, if you ever mix the two, booze & Xanax, prepare to have your mind erased, & to wake up with zero recollection of what exactly happened when you were drunk & xanaxed up. It’s a terribly dark drug, pun intended, because that’s what happens when it wears off. You only see black, total darkness, when you try to remember what you did. I digress though, as always, now where was I?
Oh yes, the big party…everyone was drinking from the big punchbowl, people were laughing, joyous, truly having a good time. Perhaps I should have tried the mysterious punch, but I didn’t, I just kept walking/stumbling around, babbling to everyone I encountered, & as I mentioned, I knew them somehow, & knew them quite well, but had never met, nor ever seen, any of these people in real time. Also, I knew this house the party was happening in, as if it were my own house, but again, I had never been to this place here in 3d world, much less lived in it, this house I was in, yet somehow, I knew it. It felt like I was back home, kind of, as in when I went outside, there was a familiarity as if I were in the beachfront town I came from, but it wasn’t. Nope, it wasn’t back home; the scenery, if you will, was different, the roads, the businesses, the houses, all of it was different, yet strangely similar, as well as exceptionally familiar to me as well as everything else. I recall seeing the names of some of the businesses, but I can’t remember what the names on their respective marquees above their buildings said. Distortion distortion distortion. Oh damn, just had a vision, a vision from a dream I’d forgotten about, but since I literally just had this vision, POOF, it came back to me. Let me finish the party illustration, then I’ll come back to this vision I just had.
It’s not gonna take long, since I’m almost at the end of describing the punchbowl party dream. What else can I say, what did I miss? Let’s see…party party party, missed a threesome with 2 hot younger broads, didn’t try the punch from the punchbowl, was stumbling & bumping due to equilibrium failure, I knew everyone somehow, as well as the big party house, & there was an almost a tangible energy of pure love betwixt myself & the party goers. I remember walking out of the house, turning right at the end of the walkway up to the house, followed by a little walk to the west I assume, because it was a sunny afternoon, & the sun was setting behind my view of the buildings ahead of me. I remember a split in the walk way; think of a “Y,” & that’s how it appeared to me from my vantage point. There was a business at the crux of the “Y,” with a sign, but for the life of me, I can’t recall what the sign said, as well as the rest of these signs. When I try to remember, it all just looks like jumbled letters, along with symbols & numbers, on these signs. It wasn’t a foreign language, it was more like codes, of some kind, but I have no idea what they translate into. Who put these signs up in this town? How did I know everything so well? What is going on in my fish-eyed brain? Is a dream really just…a dream, or is it more than that? Maybe it’s less, what do you think?
I think it’s individually subjective, but who’s doing the subjecting? Gah, I know, I know that I know, I know I have the answers within me, but for some fucking reason, I cannot find said answers. It’s incredibly frustrating; it’s frustrating, it’s depressing, it’s heart-breaking, all the above, & I’ve never felt so alone in all my life, wayyyyyy out here on my island, way out, all the way out to the tightroped perimeter of sanity, & I think there might be no way back, not here in 3d Clownworld at least. Yep, it’s looking like my ship has unprecedentedly entered uncharted waters, waters filled with ghost sharks, ready to rip me apart, limb from limb, should I decide to abandon their proverbail ship & try to swim for the shore, the shore of silence, the shore of safe returns. It looks so peaceful on this figurative shore, but if you’re stuck on an island, with no ship, there’s nowhere to go. Can’t stay on an island forever, now can you?…but how long can one stay on a ship before finding a sanctuary on land? Here I am digressing again, & just to finish up the illustration of the party dream, I went walking toward the V part of the Y, to the point where the road splits, leaving me to go either left or right, if I were to keep going in this generally westerly direction. I didn’t, however, & once I got to the spilt, I took a hard right, going off-road, in order to circle around & go back to the party, which I did, as if I knew exactly where to go, cutting through yards, until I got to an alley, which led me right back to the house. Want to know what I saw when I got back?
Of course you do, & since the FisH™ abides, I’ll tell you. Upon returning to the party, there was a lot less people there, & these people were all new. None of them, not even ONE, were there before I went on my walkabout. I knew these newbies too though, somehow, & knew them well, just like the others. More walking, stumbling, socializing, basking in the glory of the love between all of us, with ZERO recollection of this world, even yours truly, who is typing this in my present, while you read it in my past. That’s right, two different yours trulys, with two different minds, in one strange brain, probably in one body. I cannot know until I look into a mirror in a dream. I’m saying “mirror,” over & over in my head, with the hope that the concept of said mirror, will imprint into my mind & create synapses so that I can maybe, just maybe, dream about it, if I sleep tonight of course. My sleep has been so fucked up lately. Dreams, that last notably longer whilst dreaming, as opposed to a couple of hours I sleep in real time here in 3d. The dreams, on top of my visions, might be helping me in some way I am missing. Obviously, my dumb ass has no clue how to find whatever I’ve lost, but yep, definitely missing something. The answers are within me, I know it, God damn it I know, I KNOW, but I also do NOT know. Nope, don’t know a God damned thing, much less the meaning of dreams and/or visions. Of course, I’ve been searching the interwebs, like a group of hound dogs chasing a deer, & it’s all over the place, which leads me to believe that no on has a clue what is happening with dreams/visions. If they did, wouldn’t they all be saying the same thing? The reason we have dreams, as well as visions, should definitely NOT be subjective. Come on now people, there’s an answer for why it happens, of course there is, doesn’t everything have an answer, per se? We haven’t found the answer to dreams, or visions, so a bunch of power-mad morons with a PhDeeznuts write books to give people interpretations, disguised as “answers.”
Holy tap-dancing Jesus, this has turned into quite a post, & I’m just gonna stop, & wrap this one up. I could keep going, & going, & going, but the human attention span stop sign got ran about 4 paragraphs ago. Until next time dear readers, chronicle your dreams, for they have to mean something, right? So sayeth FisH™…🎣
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🎣
“Chronicle your dreams; it’s the only way to remember them.” Fish F Fish🎣
That’s right Fishheads…today marks 5 straight months, FIVE MONTHS, of daily Foozers. You MUST write, at least that’s one of my multi-daily pop-up mantras. I don’t have shit, except my cat, & my car, & my words. That’s all this floaty bloated fish has left dear readers. I’m going to go get some paint, & paint some pictures, one of these days soon, so I have hard copies of my art. If the power ever goes out, all this goes away, unless I put it all on USBs, which I am aiming to do, when I have the time. Time…GAHHHHHHHHHHHHH…just keeps chirping away, doesn’t it? Second after second, moment after moment, tick tick, tock tock, watch the hands move ’round the clock.
Where will I be when the clock strikes midnight, at the end of the next month? I’ll have 6 straight months of these articles by then. If I had to guess, I’d say maybe a few thousand pages, enough to pull a book out of maybe? I have to have it all in hardcopy though, which means printing out thousands of pages of my drivel, AFTER I move it all to USB drives. That alone might take a few days perhaps? I don’t know, but I HAVE to get this all on hard copy. Don’t be lazy Fish, you MUST do this. You must print out your drivel, paint your pictures, & then POOF, maybe you’re outta here, after completing what you sought out to do in this incarnation. Is that how it works? Do you “plan” your life, prior to being born? Or does The Great Recycler just spit you out with your memories erased, to be reborn based on karmic law…i.e…you don’t plan a damn thing here.
Nope, you just get what your karma gives you. I tend to be very…mindful, you could say, when I people-watch in my daily outings. There are good people, really good people, with families, & money, & vacations, & love, which I had to an extent as a kid, I do have that. It was only during my youth though, & my broke black ass hasn’t been on a vacation in…I don’t know, what defines a “vacation?” Not working? If so, then I’m on “vacation” right now, since I just got fired. Yeah, the momentary flashes of ultra-meaningful self-realizations, they just kept coming, & I see these good people, these beautiful people, these WEALTHY people, but not just financially wealthy, wealthy with love, & spirit, & unity, & it breaks my ragged blackened heart that I lost that. I lost it, me, the black sheep squad leader, I fucking lost it, lost it all. No, I didn’t just lose all my resources, I lost my family. I lost my friends. I lost everything, so why the fuck am I still here?
Good question, thanks for asking. Well, as I said, since I have no real skills, other than my hand-arts, & I’m not keen on wasting anymore time in some meaningless job, where I can’t get along with anyone because I’m an antisocial mess, so I’m just going to write, draw, paint, make physical hard-copy art, as much as I can, before POOF, all of this is over. Life ends for us all, there’s no way outta here alive. What are you going to leave behind? Right now, I’m leaving behind a total shitshow mess if I were to go, so I can’t go yet, not that I have any say over it, but no, I need more time. I need more time to write…write, write, write, & then my paintings, but most importantly, get home to the fam, it’s all I want to do. It’s strange that I cannot, but why, why can’t I? I ask myself that & the answer escapes me. The overwhelming anxiety strikes, & I just want to channel it, channel it like I channel these words, except onto a canvas, so it can live forever, or die in the trash can behind some old lady’s house, it won’t matter, because I won’t be here. My chariot awaits, I just have to whip the horses eyes, as Jim Morrison once said.
That sounds grim, so let me reiterate that. NO, I most certainly do NOT want to cross over now, not yet. I can’t miss the big show, the big event, whatever your so-called leaders are plotting between now & 2030. Maybe it’ll be a big letdown, I don’t know, what do you think? I know this, I know that I had a moment of clarity, as alcoholics say, & I see these good people, these people doing well, feeling great, looking good, kids are growing up well, I see all of that, & although it breaks my heart in a way, in a big way, it also makes me happy, in a bigger way, as happy as anyone can be, for them, because they get to do this the right way, focused on unity, & love, rather than whatever the fuck happened in my world, which as I said, is because of ME, & ONLY ME. I did this to myself, & I can’t quell the selfish narcissist. He just seems to worm his way into my world, no matter what, & I proverbially pay for it so I’m just going to write, write about it, & keep writing, write, write, write. You never know what little gems you might find, hidden in your own words. You just gotta tune that dial into he right channel & find that frequency baby, then click, clack, click, clack, type type type, channel it out, like buckets of water from a sacred well; lower the bucket, get the water, bring it back, drink it up, then spit in in all of your faces.
Oh my, we knew it was coming…my tangent, my random diatribe into uncharted waters, wherever the waves take me, that’s where my fingers fly to. Time to wrap this one up, until next time dear readers, if you have nothing else, you have a pen, so write. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🎏
“You never know what little gems you might discover, buried in your own words.” Fish F Fish🎏
I wish I was making this horrible story up, but unfortunately it’s not fiction, it’s a true story. Ready? Here we go, ugh, I’m still sickened, but let’s do this, let’s just rip off the proverbial band-aid & say it: Two ILLEGAL Honduran border-crossers shot & killed an American bald eagle, with the intention of eating it. If that’s not an analogy to the current state of this forsaken country, especially as it relates to the wide-open border to the south, I don’t know what is. Sheesh. First of all, WHY? I’m sure there’s plenty of other things to shoot & kill & eat in Nebraska of all places, yes? Nope, apparently not, not for these two idiots anyway, who it seems had done this before, & YES, I’m STILL sickeningly shaking my fucking head after coming across this sordid story. I mean, COME ON, seriously with this? Am I hallucinating? I just don’t get it. I’ve seen bald eagles up close, & they’re large birds, BIRDS OF PREY, & albeit they’re big birds with meat on them, they’re NOT, NOT NOT NOT birds that you eat for fuck’s sake, what the hell is this world coming to? Oh, not to mention it’s our national bird, highly-endangered, & supposedly stringently protected by law, particularly from being MURDERED, especially murdered by illegal border-crossers one would assume, right? Good thing the cops showed up to serve them up some American justice, along with their eagle wings, right?
Wrong, because these “authorities,” according to their badges & guns, didn’t really do much. They took the dead bird, the gun, & one of them got cited for not having a driver’s license. No driver’s license?…for an ILLEGAL border-crosser?…shocker, & how about those UN-charges they both got for the unlawful slaughter of this highly-endangered national bird? Oh, still awaiting “possible” future charges for their crime it says in the article, sure thing, which probably will never come. Going to give them a court date? I’m sure they’ll be sure to appear promptly on time, most likely when they’re back in Honduras you stupid stupid morons. Derp, what a pathetic joke of a “justice” system. They should be found guilty, then given the maximum penalty possible for this crap, maybe even cut off their hands, as an example to the millions of other illegals casually walking across the southern border, like they’re walking into Disneyworld. Will these eagle-killers be given said maximum penalty though? Most likely, nope, & beyond me backseat-driver reporting on this story, it’ll be gone by this time tomorrow. Doesn’t fit any narrative being barfed out by the fake news at the moment, so yep, down the chute to the trash compacter with this sadly sordid story after I’m done with it. I had to look WAYYYYYYYYYYYY down on The Gateway Pundit to even see this article, & other than Cassandra MacDonald & myself, not a single other writer wrote about this. Quite reflective of the narrative-driven fake news mainstream media, is it not?
Let’s be sure to mention this, the utterly accurate analogy underlying this story; two ILLEGALS killing & eating the national bird of the country they just illegally entered. I mean WOW, just WOW, almost as if it was scripted somehow. Incredibly disrespectful to say the least, but also the horror of it. Yes, the horror, because it’s truly horrifying when our majestic national bird, highly endangered, probably had baby eagles in a nest somewhere, is murdered by these 3rd world shithole animals who sneak into our country with zero regard for the life we create, preserve, & protect here. They’re sneaking in here to kill, kill our bird, our national bird, a bird revered by all Americans who live here LEGALLY. Our national bird was established by The Founders, our Great American Bald Eagle, & they sneak in here to kill our bird. Is the analogy clear enough for you yet? I’m not sure how much more eloquently I can spell out it out for you, so if you aren’t getting it, maybe you’re retarded. I don’t know, but what I DO know, is that I am sick & tired of illegal border-crossers disrespecting our country, our flag, our laws, & now our national bird apparently, in the worst way possible too, by killing & eating one. Gah, it’s so infuriating. The national bird of Honduras is the Scarlet Macaw, pictured below. If I went to Honduras, found one of these rainbow-feathered flappers, shot one & killed it, then ate it, how would that go down with the Honduran authorities? Or what about the Honduran people, how would they feel about an American gringo, a foreigner, coming to their country & doing that? Oh wait, AND I’m White, so wouldn’t that piss them off even more? Can’t win if you’re White, can you? It’s certainly OKAY to be White, but we get blamed for everything, thus, we can’t win, not in Clownworld…(honk noise)
Nope, you can’t win here if you’re white, & if you aren’t white, you get treated with the kid gloves by law enforcement unless you do something really bad, & even then, it’s a different dynamic based on your race. Apparently, crossing the border illegally, then killing our national bird before eating it, is somehow NOT considered exceptionally warranted to be punished by the most severe of plausible consequences for such an offensive action, if you’re a foreign person-of-color.. Did they even go to jail? Doesn’t say, but I don’t think so, just “cited,” & it’s yet another example of illegal border-crossing vermin getting away with crimes that everyday Americans would get severely punished for. The “justice” system sure is fickle for being “blind,” isn’t it? Intentionally implanted progressively regressive liberal clown judges are to blame, along with their parallel-planted prosecutorial counterparts. All a rigged political game, THEIR game, not yours. You are only forced into it when you refuse to comply with their bullshit laws & regulations. How about FUCK THEM, how about that? Fuck all you corrupted scumfucks, ALL OF YOU, including the alphabet agencies like the CIA, FBI, DOJ, you are ALL corrupt foot soldiers for an illegal rogue regime that bends the knee to the globalists in The Capstone Club. If you all weren’t weaponized, you’d be nothing, but FUCK YOU ALL anyways, because I will expose you with my words, you & all your dastardly deeds you do. You are ENEMIES, enemies of the American people & I’d wager you fucks are the ones causing all these “random” train derailments & “random” food-processing plant fires. Oh yes, you are NOT fooling everyone, & there are more & more people like me everyday who are sick & tired of your sinister shenaniganery & are stepping up & doing something about it. All I can do is fight you all with these words, MY words, & my words alone, but if you want a fight, you got it you fuckwads. EXPOSURE, & every single day I will globally post something in this public sphere to shine light on your crimes until you are stopped, then hopefully prosecuted, found guilty, then hung by your serpentine necks until you’re all DEAD, DEAD, DEAD for crimes against humanity, treason, sedition, & for just being generally evil scum.
Of course, there’s the pragmatist on my other shoulder, reminding me that most likely, nothing will change other than everything getting worse, & more corrupted. Sadly, these evil elitist overlords & their minion foot soldiers are a malignant cancer, & that cancer is terminal methinks, especially after spreading so far, sinking so deep into this hodgepodge American pseudo-culture, that there’s no way back I fear. This is only my opinion, mine alone, & believe me, I wish there was a feasible way to turn this out-of-control train around, or at the very least, stop it in its tracks before it goes completely off the rails. I just don’t see how though, as anyone/everyone who identifies as a leftist/liberal/loser is certainly far-gone/programmed/brainwashed/in a state of hypnoses-psychosis & never coming back. The conservatives will never regress into libtardian clowns, so how does it play out when there’s no where for either side to go? That “national divorce” is sounding better by the day, & like every other divorce, it will be messy when the actual split comes, very messy, as in who gets what & where & how & such…but the split must come regardless I think. I don’t know though, I really don’t. I have no idea how this all sorts itself out. Things all tend to sort themselves out at some point, one way or another, but this, this abysmally defunct mess of a country, I just don’t see how. I have no real power to change it but nonetheless, I will keep writing daily, occasionally multi-daily, exposing your so-called “leaders,” in all of their flounderous folly as their sinking ship capsizes under the weight of their own disgusting quest for power. Again, it’s THEIR game, not mine, I’m merely here to expose it, hopefully before they take us all down in the same flames they consume themselves with.
Anyway, that’s going to do it for this depressing Foozer. Unfortunately, I can’t apologize on behalf of these two ILLEGAL border-crossers that committed this most-heinous act not only against our country, but against the animal kingdom itself. They did it, not me, & it’s foolish to be sorry for someone else’s evil ridiculousness. Who kills & eats a bald eagle? Seriously, despite everything else, come on, who the fuck does that? It’s not only stupidly unnecessary, it’s an analogy, grimly analogous to what’s going on at the southern border, or rather, what is NOT going on as far as enforcing the security of said border. Just going to keep letting them walk right on through, are we? Looking right at you President Braindead, & that cackling moron Vice President “border czar” of yours, who’s yet to even visit the border as far as I know. Stolen election, stolen government, stolen country, & if you believe in thieves, you’re as dumb as you look. Until next time, dear readers, look in the mirror & ask yourself, “Who do you really trust?” So sayeth FisH™…🎣
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🐡
“If you believe in thieves, you’re as dumb as you look.” ~Fish F Fish🎏
What is going on with all of this “fagility?” Whoops, I meant “FRAGILITY,” not “fagility,” the latter isn’t even a word, how did that happen? Strange. Anyway, what’s this “FRAGility” all about? Are there a bunch of “fragile” people out there, blaming said “fragility” on other racial groups? Yep, & well, this IS Clownworld, where everyone blames everyone else & everything is backwards, so is it really surprising that this concept of racial fragility is trending? Nope, not at all…(Honk Noise), but why is this topic flying around on a Saturday? Thanks for the answer Disney, via the great Mark Dice. Did you have your barf bag handy, as the cringe is a solid 18.7 on a scale from 1 to 10, how was your cringe-vomit session?
“White fragility,” & that beady-eyed snapdragon wrote a book with the same title? Un-fucking-real…what about if we switched “white,” to “black,” how would that fly?
According to Dice, this is a “working definition,” up above here. I like it, but oy vey, so much fagility, I mean FRAGility, why do I keep doing that? Weird. Oh I know, maybe because of this incessant whining about the “fragility” of other races causing your own racial strife, is quite “faggy,” is it not? Yes, very faggish indeed, like the old school “fag,” remember that? Can you recall, especially as a dude, carelessly using the word “fag?” We would say it in jest, or maybe even say that something “silly,” is “gay,” just as part of the cultural nomenclature of the times, & no one complained, no one said they were “fragile,” nope, none of that. Things could be randomly “gay,” & anyone who acted like a douchebag might be called a “fag.” It wasn’t a big deal back then, but damn if isn’t the proverbial “end of the world” now if you used such vocabulary publicly. Oh wait, am I doing that right now? Whoops.
I must be a terribly ignorant bigot then, right? Yikes, such a REEEEEEEEEE-cist, I guess, I don’t know, I don’t abide this new societal lexicon we’re all apparently supposed to just accept & cater to, as if it’s “normal.” Derp. I don’t know what “normal” is anymore, but it sure as fuck ain’t all this nonsensical “woke” garbage being puked up all over the zeitgeist every day. Seriously, the rate of degeneracy is ASTOUNDING, degenerating right into some kind of dystopian CRT nightmare, pushing pseudo-ideologies that are just part of a larger agenda, aimed at brainwashing & demoralizing children. It’s so sinister, clearly psychopathic, & “psycho-something-else” I’m sure as well. It’s insanity, & they just keep energizer-bunny going with it, on & on & on. Not only that, they’ll DOUBLE-DOWN. EVERY time this happens, & if there’s even a whiff of a public outcry, they’ll square their wokeness, just to push the knife in twice as deep, with ZERO hesitation. First, it was the release of the “THIS COUNTRY WAS BUILT BY SLAVES” cartoon…blaming ALL white people yet again for something that EVERYONE in present-day had NOTHING to do with, & now, Disney ups the ante, as if on queue, tagging this “white fragility” crap alongside their insanely ridiculous cartoon. Then of course, enter the mass media overlords, broadcasting that silly twat who wrote the book of the same title, “White Fragility,” via Jimmy Fallon’s sinking late-night UN-comedy show. Nope, not funny at all Jimmy, none of you “woke” morons are, & maybe you should all just STOP, how about that? The “theatre,” has become a vehicle for liberal lunacy, albeit said “vehicle” is more like a clown car…honk honk honk.
Unfortunately, that clown car has no brakes. Will it ever come to a screeching halt somehow? No, not gonna stop? Just gonna keep going with the “woke” agenda? Duh, of course they are, since almost everyone is afraid to call them out, & there’s NEVER any consequences from their “agenda-pushing,” so why would they stop? It’s all about control, & power, power over you, your children, they crave it, & they aren’t going to stop unless they’re stopped. Very analogous to a cancerous tumor, yes? Cancers are fickle, some can be removed, some cannot, so will we, as a society, successfully remove this cancer? Surely we will all come to our collectively respective senses, right?
Meh, not holding my breath, as it would surely seem that many people just say, “that’s how it is.” Meanwhile, these s-elected scum in “power positions,” like your so-called “leaders,” are ALL in on this dark game. Left, right, 2 wings of the same stinking bird, we’ve been over this countless times. It’s THEIR club, THEIR game, THEIR rules, & that’s “just how it is,” apparently, & we all have to deal with it accordingly, right? Isn’t that how it goes? “That’s just the way it is,” that’s the proverbial excuse, yes? How about “NO?” NO NO NO NO NO, how about a YUGE “NO, I DO NOT ACCEPT THIS!”…what about that? Their “game” is no game, not for us plebs anyway, it’s more like a mouse trap. The cheese went moldy long ago, yet here it is, the Great Mouse Trap, & the figurative little mice, stuck in the trap, so “fragile” they are, in the orchestrated labyrinth they’ve tricked you all into believing is “life.” Why do you think it’s called “The Rat Race?” The most ironic part of said “rat race,” is that there’s multiple exits in the trap. Big signs over big exit doors, like some surrealbackroom(👈🏻Click if you aren’t familiar), that unsurprisingly even reads, “EXIT,” in big flashing red letters. All so big, but the mice can’t see them for some reason, & the little rodents just scurry right by. Maybe they can’t read? Perhaps the flashing lights of freedom frighten them? Or maybe they just aren’t fluent in the language? Maybe “exit” means “stay in your trap” to them. It’s almost as if they’re programmed, programmed to think like mice. Couldn’t be the television PROGRAMMING, could it? Not as if it’s literally right there in the words themselves, what do I know? I guess I don’t know, but it sure is bizarre, is it not?
White mice, black mice, all mice, all in the same Great Mouse Trap. Imagine if your overlord scientists tricked you all into believing that mice were different, solely based on the color fo their fur. Then add notions of “fragility,” as in proclaiming something like, “the white mice oppress the black mice,” essentially programming the mice to believe in such nonsense. How else could they know any different? They’re all just mice in a maze, right? Easily programmable, & once these inclinations have been successfully integrated into he daily routine of these unwitting mice, they turn on one another, focusing on THAT, fighting one another, rather than getting out of The Great Mouse Trap that they’ve all been trapped in. They tricked you all, you silly little mice. You’ve all been deviously divided & conquered by a 3rd party they most of you aren’t even aware of, so how can you be wary of something you aren’t even aware of? Rather than ever working together, realizing they’ve all been trapped by the aforementioned “third party,” trapped TOGETHER, they fight each other, black mice versus white mice, while the trappers watch on & laugh. Yep, stuck in a trap set by treacherous trappers that don’t really care at all what you do, because to them, you’re all just mice. Now wouldn’t that be a clever way to keep you stuck in the trap, the Great Mouse Trap?
Well, as always, that turned into a multi-page essay, never fails. Once the frequency is tuned into the receiver, the hands just type type type, type until this, whatever this is, is now manifest into 3d space. Kind of spooky, how that seems to work, is it not? Until next time little mice, remember that the cheese is moldy in The Great Mouse Trap. So sayeth FisH™🎣
For all of you, & for none of you at all.
“The cheese is moldy in The Great Mouse Trap.” ~Fish F Fish🎏
Unfortunately the world has lost a fancy-fingered gem of a musician, the great Burt Bacharach. Yes, at the young age of 94, sadly he has pushed his final piano key. The first of three, maybe, as these things happen in “threes,” as the proverbial they say, so who might be next? Fun game to play with friends, when a “person of note” dies, you try & guess who the next two in line will be. Kind of morbid, sure, but it’s just a part of life, is it not? Hmmm, I smell a quote in there somewhere…something kind of oxymoronic perhaps? Life is death, death is life, Finkel is Einhorn, doot-doodoot-doodoot…what can I do with that? Let’s see, how about, “Embrace death as you embrace life, as every ending is a new beginning,” …something along those lines, but not that exact quote. It’s…”incomplete,” you might say, so I’ll ponder it as I write, & maybe give you a solid quote at the end of this Friday Foozer. Or maybe I’ll just let Burt quote me out on this one, we’ll see at the end. Fridays to Fridays, like nights to days nowadays, the progression of the flushing toilet of 4d time progresses ever faster it seems.
It was 1972 now over FIFTY years ago, wow, it’s just incredible, this whole 4d time thing, the Great Time Spiral, pulling 3d “forward,” forward into the future, so surreal, isn’t it? Check out this link before I continue on about times past. This is a TV special from 1972, featuring the late Burt Bacharach. Notice how amazingly different it was back then, where do I begin? Well, technically, after this video below, that’s where I’ll “begin,” but I meant figuratively, where does one begin when they try to illustrate the stark differences between 1972 & 2023? Like 2 totally different worlds, but nope. Same world I think, but maybe we jumped timelines into Clownworld, I don’t know, but my oh my, how times change, as this collective macroorganism evolves/devolves into…into…drats, I wish I knew, as it’s metamorphosis is ongoing in real-time, the chrysalis clown in its clown-car cocoon, can you hear the cacophony of nose-horns? Honk honk honk…honk…
👇🏻ROLL THE CLIP👇🏻
Well how about that? A televised show showing people who can show you their respectively individual ACTUAL talent, as opposed to the grossly talentless manufactured productions they broadcast “for the kids” nowadays. Have you seen the new Disney cartoon? If not, get out from under your rock & catch-up, ya uninformed tomato. Ready for another gem? Let’s see what Matt Walsh has to say, with a preview of this ridiculous animated cartoon FOR KIDS. As an animator, & someone who can reason out the MILLIONS of dollars that were invested in hiring animators, script writers, producers, directors, voice actors, on & on & on, all for this bullshit below, it makes me sick. This is being broadcast to KIDS, keep that in mind as you watch, & think about the cartoons you used to watch. Still remember the catch phrases don’t you? Keep that in mind as well. Ok, here we go…
👇🏻ROLL THE CLIP👇🏻
“SLAVES BUILT THIS COUNTRY!!” …repeated over & over, & kids being the sponges they are, are soaking all this up & integrating it into their developing brains. It’s so utterly sickening, so dark, so sinister, gah, & they just keep pushing. Apparently, they’re getting a lot of backlash for this racist production, but if it’s racism against whites, nope, shhhh…move along, & despite the widespread online criticism, it won’t change a thing, & Disney is going to keep doing this. It’s not he first time they’ve injected their “woke garbage into children’s programming, so why would it be the last? RAH RAH RAH…RABBLE RABBLE RABBLE…sure, there’s going to be the “backlash,” but they don’t care. Do you understand? THEY DO NOT CARE. #WhiteManBad is the hashtag buzz-phrase that people of color who buy into this ridiculousness live by. Whatever the issue, #WhiteManBad, but I have facts, fuck you #WhiteManBad. The “white man is bad,” so “oppressive,” …derp. Apparently, now it is to the point that kids can be openly indoctrinated via publicly televised children’s programming with these horrible themes, CRT ideologies such as, “SLAVES BUILT THIS COUNTRY!!” …get the fuck outta here with this already. My ancestors weren’t even here, but I’m white, so what happens now? Fucking morons, round & round with the REEEEEE-cisms, until they get paid, which is really all they want, money. How sad, all the “civil rights” strife, all just about money, & power of course. Ask BLM.
Anyway, so that grossly inappropriate catchphrase, “SLAVES BUILT THIS COUNTRY!!”…yeah, that’s going to be stuck with these unfortunate kids forever now…FOREVER. Hell, it’s even stuck in my head now, & I’m in my 40s, so imagine the kids, these innocent CHILDREN, being programmed by viciously malevolent adults, to grow up thinking this country was in fact, “built by slaves.” First of all, it wasn’t, as Matt Walsh states right from the get-go, & second, WHAT THE FUCK are you “woke” dunces at Disney thinking with this OBVIOUS agenda? Seriously, WE ALL KNOW, we all know you’re degenerate racist pedos, & you should all be hung by the neck until DEAD, DEAD, DEAD. This “agenda’ is so sinister, ugh, THESE ARE KIDS FOR FUCK’S SAKE. I don’t even have any kids, & I this infuriates me, so I can only imagine how parents feel. Well, at least the parents who are aware, & I know there’s many a parent out there who is NOT aware, NOT informed, & so they just stick their fatherless kids in front of the television all day to be programmed, programmed by the “woke agenda.” No one ever mentions the parents incidentally, usually no father-figure, so they always go after Disney, or whoever else they can blame OTHER THAN the parent/s. Then you can argue that the breakdown of the nuclear family plays into this future catastrophe as well, but I won’t digress into that topic, as I’ve already segued off from the title up there, the RIP to old Burt. Maybe that’s all, all “the world needs now…is love, sweet love. That’s the only thing, that there’s just too little of.”
Well, we will miss you Burt, but you made it to 94 ya crooner, & what a life, so many songs, in so many heads, after riding in so many elevators, which is the only place you might hear a Burt Bacharach ditty. I jest, I jest, he was great, very talented, as are many Jews from that era who hail from Queens. It’s an interesting phenomenon, all these famous Jews from Queens from the 1920s to the 1960s, there was a Renaissance of sorts, maybe it had something to do with World War 2, I don’t know, & NO, NO NO NO NO NO it’s NOT anti-Semitic to ask questions like this…sheesh. “Why are so many talented people from Queens in the golden age of media Jewish?” How the fuck is that anti-Semitic? It’s simple curiosity, & many of them are very talented, & I respect their respective talents, I just find it odd that there are so many from that specific area that go on to find fame & fortune. That’s all, don’t throw me to the “you’re a Nazi” wolves over it. The proverbial eggshells are all broken, so I’m just gonna walk like I always do, one foot in front of the other, & if it bothers any of you, this pseudo-bigotry you delude yourselves into believing is real, then maybe kick rocks…& go on a long uphill hike, up a mountain, the highest mountain, to the highest peak, look up at the beautiful blue sky, & the fluffy white clouds, close your eyes, then jump you lemmings. How bout them apples?
Free speech is FREE speech, period..& “hate speech,” is just a liberal myth, part of the socially-engineered indoctrination agenda, like most of the buzzwords they regurgitate as they puke their word vomit all over the place. SO OVER IT. Anyway enough of the ranting, as that’s gonna do it for today’s daily Foozer. Until next time, I’ll leave a video of one of Burt’s greatest hits below. No FisH™quote today, I’ll let Burt fill in the gaps on this one. So pour a glass, light a smoke, eat a pancake, & enjoy the music of the late Burt Bacharach below. Rip sir. Travel well to your next destination. Hey, that’s not bad, I’ll do quote, AND Burt below, how about that, dear readers? Sound good?(pin intended) …& I’m out. So sayeth FisH™🎏
For all of you, & for none of you at all.
“Travel well to your next destination.” ~Fish F Fish🎣
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 