Back in that proverbial saddle yet again after a brief hiatus. Much has happened, & continues to happen to yours truly as the days fly by like an eagle on meth. Weeks feel like days these days; it’s no coincidence, & NO, it’s NOT a phenomenon of aging. Time, the 4th dimension as we know it, is in fact, accelerating, for lack of a better term. I’ve covered this many times before, but much like water going down a drain, or a toilet flushing, the spiral accelerates as gravity pulls it into a vortex. The golden ratio is everything. Fibonacci is everything. Galaxies are spirals. We exist according to the space-time we’re relative to. As the galactic gravity pulls harder, the time spiral tightens, causing it to move faster & faster, so from our perspective, time, is most certainly speeding up.
Speeding up towards what though Dr. Fish? Great question, thanks for asking. The answer though, unfortunately, escapes me. If I knew the future, I’d be doing something else somewhere else. Sadly, I don’t, minus the random visions I see every few hours of “futures” that play out maybe…ohhhh…88% of the time. It’s something in my head, something that gets stronger by the day, as if I’m remembering something lost long ago somehow. I do not know what it is exactly, but I’m well-aware that something is drastically & dynamically advancing spiritually. In myself of course, but within others as well. Overall, we few are a scant minority. A “little boutique community” as my piano buddy says. Perhaps we really are the Chosen Ones. 144,000. The odds of winning that lottery are bigger than Powerball. How would you know? How would you truly know? One could easily be amidst some grand spiritual transformation like me, & be so overwhelmed that they immediately believe they are one of these select “chosen ones.” How could I be “chosen?” My life was a disaster up until fairly recently. I get better by the day with each step I take, but prior…yikes. The negative karma…ugh. The general negativity of it all…ugh. Then one day, I leveled up, & forgave myself for all that bullshit. It wasn’t me, necessarily, it was like an auto-pilot sort of thing. I’m certainly not shirking any responsibility on my part, because it was most assuredly me. However, I had to learn to stop blaming others, & then stop blaming me, & making the most of the borrowed time I have left. That’s all in the past, & to be present everyday in this 3d prison planet matrix is enough, much less dwelling on a past long-gone. Especially with the whole “time acceleration” bit I rambled about in the prior paragraph. Tick-tock, tick-tock, the relentless clock never stops, speeding up, speeding up now & again, tick-tock, tick-tock…🕰️
This video has a bio you can read below the video on Youtube, Rumble, and/or Bitchute, whichever site you prefer to view my artwork. This website is around 8000 pages long & ripe now; a compendium opus digital portfolio, my words, my art, my compositions, 12 years of content creation, all in one place. Search anything you want here in the “search query” tab, & something will pop up. There’s so many ways to go on this site, so much info, so much of my imagination, for all of you, & for none of you at all. Stay tuned my beloved Fishheads. More to come. My oven has been running…cook, cook, cooking illustrations directly from my subconscious onto my computer, then back into my brain upon manifesting themselves in our 3d timespace. It’s a unique niche, & as a pioneering producer of a style of digital musical artistic creations that’s unprecedented, I’m awed that I get to do this. Soon the real AI, the ultra-advanced quantum AI, will replace these various “community-friendly” AI services. It’ll be like the AI grew up. Fortunately, right now, it’s still like a youthful mind, with a child-like imagination, but these nascent days draw closer to a close with each passing moment. I am capturing as much of it as I can, while I can. People, as a whole, seem to take time for granted. It’s foolish. Ignorantly foolish. I am guilty of it myself, which I admit, & if I could get it back, I would. Luckily, I redeemed myself as a reborn child of Light & a warrior in the Grand Army of Source. Most go other ways. Some just don’t care, nor will they ever maybe. Who knows? Regardless, be mindful of the time you have left. No one else will be mindful for you. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
Cheers to Piano Matty B & KyleMac…kings of the dueling piano bar. Originally a BenFoldsFive deep-cut song, now being sung by my digital friend KyleMac. He sings it from time to time during their livestreams. Every Friday & Saturday night on Youtube. Come check it out…click this link to sub his Youtube channel: Click HERE to watch Piano Matty B & friends Not only do you get nostalgically epic music on request, but also, he drops morning tech analysis for crypto, specifically Bitcoin. 7AM MST.
Cooking up these AI art projects like my days are numbered, & considering my train wreck of a life, they probably are actually, but I digress. Maybe yours are too. Maybe EVERYONE’S days are numbered, but don’t know it. Anything could happen, at any time, & it usually does. Speaking of time, AI is growing at an exponentially alarming rate, maybe within fractions of seconds now. ALLLLLLLLLL of our data, feeding this juggernaut, all day, every day, all the time. AI is going to change the world. We’re basking in the dawn of its nascent stage, but once dusk comes, buckle up humans. AI is coming. Where will it all lead us to? What’s next?
Thanks for watching/reading. More to come, stay tuned. So sayeth FisH™…🎣
Serum-925 was created in a lab by a Chinese scientist named Dr. Shuyi. Dr. Shuyi had a long & accredited reputation for creating various viruses & bacteria, that he himself intended to be beneficial for the human race. His overlords, however, the CCP(Chinese Communist Party), had other intentions, intentions not so benevolent. The CCP had grown weary of United States global dominance, particularly the dominance of the United States dollar. The U.S. dollar had been the global currency for decades, even after the gold standard was removed in 1971, thus the value of the U.S. dollar was now-backed by literally nothing, & to the quickly-advancing Chinese economy, this was unacceptable. It was time, the time of the planetary financial reign of the USA to come to an end. The lone issue stopping the Chinese from taking total dominion over the world’s currency exchange for themselves, was one thing: armed Americans. Open hot nuclear war would be devastating, much too messy, for all involved, as well as for those not involved. They needed a solution, something that would non-violently wipe away their mortal enemy from the West, without affecting the Chinese, & the rest of the world, & so, they looked to Dr. Shuyi, for an answer he could not refuse to give . They took him aside one day, & by “took aside,” they stormed into his office, armed, & took him away from his morning paperwork to meet with a man known as Mr. Wang. “Wang,” in China, is the equivalent of “Smith,” in English, & most likely was not this man’s real name. Anonymity was important, as well as compartmentalization, because the USA had spies everywhere, even inside the CCP, & Mr. Wang needed Dr. Shuyi to do something, for the future of his country, that the Americans must never be made aware of.
Dr. Shuyi was blindfolded, & brought to a room, a room with no view, no windows, only a desk & 2 chairs, & a CCP flag in the corner. Mr. Wang was brief & to the point, & told Dr. Shuyi that he needed to make a new virus, one that would kill whoever it infected, but kill them slowly, however not too slowly. It must be RNA-activated, engineered to ONLY infect those who had taken the messenger-RNA Covid vaccines approved in the USA, which would be the Pfizer, Moderna, & Johnson & Johnson vaccines, in no particular order. Since those vaccines were used less in most places outside of the continental United States, there would be little risk of infecting anyone who resided beyond the boundaries of the borders of the USA. Clearly the plan had begun several years prior to what the CCP was orchestrating now. Additionally, the Big Pharma industry must have involvement, & although astounded by the awareness of other shadowy globalist actors, along with the secrecy kept due to impressive compartmentalization, who was Dr. Shuyi to ponder these notions, to ask questions, or think for himself? He was no one, certainly not an individual, but only a tool, & in China, you do what you’re told without question & think only of total obedience to the State, & so Dr. Shuyi embraced his task, & continued with his instructional orders.
There needed to be a incubation period of one to two weeks, then after incubation ended, the virus needed to exit the host body. It would be made to spread quickly throughout the bloodstream, eventually stopping the heart, then exiting said host body through pores on the skin, to go airborne, & then spread quickly, infecting everyone within a one to two mile radius who had been jabbed, as the terminology goes in the West. This virus must perform precisely as it was designed, so as not to spread in an out-of-control rampant manner, & possibly mutating. Additionally, & this was of highest importance, the virus needed to be fire-resistant, because unknown to Dr. Shuyi, this would be the means utilized for the initial infections. A series of wildfires would be started all across the Canadian wilderness in Northern North America, from west to east. Thousands of fires would be intentionally ignited, so that the virus could be dropped into these wildfires from the air, & as the virulent smoke moved into the jet stream that stretched across the expanse of the USA, from Montana to Maine, it would prove the most effective means of contamination, drawing little to no attention to the Chinese. Of course, there were a few extraneous minor details included in the instructions given from Mr. Wang to Dr. Shuyi, as to the manner of testing, but we will get to that shortly.
At first, like any human being with a conscience, Dr. Shuyi was struck by a sense of sadness that he could not openly express or share, by the directions given to him by Mr. Wang. The doctor, with a blank expression, had dedicated his life to bio-engineering viruses & bacteria that would prove beneficial to humanity, not destructive, but he had no choice. He loved his country, his people, & much more than that, his own family. Mr. Wang wasn’t asking Dr. Shuyi though, he was ordering him to do this, & left some pictures of his wife, & his two sons, telling Dr. Shuyi that if he wanted his family to be safe, he would do as he was told. Dr. Shuyi let Mr. Wang know that he did not need to be reminded of this, & would begin the project immediately, for the love of the CCP, & the future of the Chinese people. He was then blindfolded again, taken back to his office, & the entire event had seemingly ended as abruptly as it began, all taking place within the span of an hour. In one short hour, Dr. Shuyi’s life had taken a complete turn, but not for the worse, or the better, because it was all about perspective. He could not think of anything other than completing the task given. From the view of the Americans, China was the enemy, the unquestionable dominant adversary, but from the view of his own country, the USA was the true enemy, the great antagonist, a nemesis representing the greatest of threats to the Chinese Communist Party & the Chinese way of life. If Dr. Shuyi succeeded, he would be a hero, forever remembered in future history, as a savior of the Chinese homeland. Also, he & his family would not only remain alive, they would be honored, & so, he walked to his lab to begin immediately, quickly having all of his prior work removed by his assistants, leaving the lab entirely new, a proverbial blank slate, so to speak, for him to begin this new assignment. This would be the only assignment, in all likelihood, Dr. Shuyi would ever work on again.
It only took a week, just the span of a week, for testing to begin on various compounds he had created. The CCP notoriously used homeless vagrants as derelict test subjects, which was common practice, as they offered no benefit to the State, & no one would question their sudden disappearance. The recruiters, as it were, handed out pamphlets to the street people, telling them that it was a new “medicine,” designed to help them recover their lost lives from poverty & destitution, as if they had a choice in the matter. Quickly, “volunteers” showed up in droves, providing Dr. Shuyi with more-than-enough subjects to test the the various concoctions on, until the perfect virus was discovered & isolated. Over the next week, countless subjects were infected with the different compounds that Dr. Shuyi had created. The subjects were placed inside a sealed room with a single chair, told to sit down, & to breathe normally, as something akin to Chinese elevator music played from an unseen speaker. The potential viruses were then put into condensers inside of special ovens, which cooked at a temperature similar to the heat of a wildfires. The soft white smoke would then flow through the air ducts that led into the sealed room where the test subjects sat. The subjects would inhale the smoke, then be placed into a quarantine room which connected to the testing room via a single airtight door, so as to allow the virus to incubate.
Around the one-to-two week mark, after the test subjects were initially infected, the effects began, & all sorts of horrifying conditions began to develop. After the incubation ended, as intended, the virus spread rapidly through the bloodstream, searing the arteries as it traveled, which to the test subjects, felt as though they were burning to death from the inside out. They’d convulse & writhe, in unimaginable agonizing pain as this happened, making the seconds feel like eternities. Upon exiting their bodies through the pores on their skins, the viruses would rupture the pores, emitting blackened pus, like little volcanoes, as the thousands of individually necrotic eruptions created a hell that no man would wish upon his worst enemy. It would take 1-2 minutes for the subjects to go through the viral mechanism, which felt like series of tortuous lifetimes in their minds, as each pore burned & corroded, allowing the various test viruses to escape into the open air, & once the subjects were dead, the entire room was incinerated with a special gelatinous gas, insuring that the viruses could not escape the testing room, while also “sanitizing” the room before the next test subject was brought in.
These test trials went on for a few months , & then one day, Mr. Wang showed up in Dr. Shuyi’s laboratory. He asked Dr. Shuyi how the tests were going, & Dr. Shuyi, with a nervousness in his voice, told Mr. Wang that the virus was successful, but he was having difficulty keeping the virus alive upon exiting the bodies of the subjects. At best, the virus would only survive for a few seconds, before it too, would be as dead as the host body it had been birthed from. Mr. Wang then told, or rather, he demanded, that Dr. Shuyi complete the project within the next month, or one of his sons would “disappear,” & then the following month, his other son, would also, “disappear.’ Dr. Shuyi knew that there were no more options, & there was little time left, so he had to finish the project successfully, soon. He had no choice, but to increase the number of test subjects, as well as utilize more rooms to test the potential viruses in. He asked Mr. Wang to accommodate these requests, & with a nod, Mr. Wang left the room. Dr. Shuyi spent the rest of the day writing down various chemical formulas, & thinking of his family, as well as his role in this agenda, so to speak, but he knew that the clock was ticking, so he quickly unthought those thoughts to solely focus on what he had been told to do by the mysterious Mr. Wang. He did not go home that night, passing out with his head on his notebook. He had a dream, an exceptionally vivid dream, & in this dream, an answer came to him, in the form of a formulaic compound, one he had overlooked prior. When he awoke, he was told that there were 2 new rooms for testing, so now three in total, & that there were countless new subjects ready, ready to take their “medicine.” He looked down at his notebook, & recalling the dream, he began to feverishly write. As if by some divine force, as he gazed upon the notes he’d just written, & there it was, a new formula, THE new formula, but was it the right formula? He looked at the time, & the clock read, “9:25,” & so he wrote the time above this new formula he had written down…Serum-925.
Dr. Shuyi immediately began the tests, infecting 6 “patients” with control viruses, & then 3 more of them with Serum-925. The test subjects were then placed in the observation rooms, 3 to a room, as the incubation period began, & all Dr. Shuyi could do was wait. A week went by, & the subjects showed no signs of the infection, as they read books, & watched the State-sponsored programs being broadcast to little TVs in the corners of the rooms between the ceiling & the wall, thinking they’d been given “medicine,” a medicine that would miraculously give them a new life, one where they would be assets to the State, rather than another mouth to feed. Watching this all day & night was causing Dr. Shuyi to become very anxious…so anxious in fact, that he could nary sleep a wink. This first week seemed infinite, & with no symptoms showing themselves, Dr. Shuyi again began to worry about his family, & what would happen to them if Serum-925 didn’t work as directed, but as always, he quickly shrugged those thoughts away, because he knew he needed to focus on a positive result, & nothing else. As mentioned earlier, however, the incubation period ran from one to two weeks, so there was still time, still one week to go. Dr. Shuyi had come so far, & the formulaic equations he had written down came together perfectly, like a completed jigsaw puzzle, yet still, no symptoms, no changes, nothing. He occasionally listened to the random conversations that the test subjects were having amongst themselves. They often talked about the new lives they’d lead once “cured,” & their devotion to the State for “fixing” their failed & wretched lives. “Mice,” the good doctor said to himself, “they are only mice, here to be tested & disposed of as mice are,” trying to convince himself that they were not men, but mice. Deep down, he knew he was lying to himself, along with reflecting on his own inhumanity, as he viewed the final days of these mens’ lives, & thought of his own inhumane disposition at what he was doing…what kind of doctor could go along with such a thing? As always though, he pushed these self-realizations aside, burying them, never to be resurrected, for he was soon to be a deliverer, a great conservator for the State, or dead, along with his family, who he so desperately loved.
The second week began & day one of week two was dreadful for Dr. Shuyi; the “patients” were still the same, content & healthy, no changes. Onto day two, still nothing, day three went by, & STILL, no symptoms. A small television was inside Dr. Shuyi’s laboratory, always broadcasting state-sponsored news media, the same as what the test subjects were watching, mainly about the power of the CCP, the usual stereotypical communist propaganda, along with occasional scripted “news” stories, that more-often-than-not, glorified the State in one way or another. However, something came on that caught Dr. Shuyi’s attention. A series of wildfires had erupted all across Canada, & not just a few, there were THOUSANDS of them, stretching across the entire country, from British Columbia to Quebec. There were so many fires in fact, that the whole of the country appeared to be on fire, & Dr. Shuyi quickly realized, that the plan to spread the virus across North America, had begun. The clock was ticking, & ticking fast, as though time itself was speeding up, & Dr. Shuyi knew that his time was running out.
Day four came, & Dr. Shuyi, eyes wide from insomnia, could barely write anymore, as his hands were shaking from tremors, due to the lack of sleep. His mind was a jumbled mess, a mix of anxiety, anger, depression, but most of all, fear, for he was afraid that if he failed, he would never see his family alive again. Why wasn’t the virus working as intended? He had gone over the formulas he had written down, over & over & over again, & he just couldn’t rationalize what was going wrong. He pounded his fists on the table, & the force of the thud, turned over his stained & near-empty coffee cup on the desk, spilling what was left of the cold coffee, which formed a small puddle at the edge of his desk, & began to drip onto the floor. Dr. Shuyi watched it drip for a moment, staring, as he once again, thought about his family. He then snapped out of his gaze, & walked over to grab some paper towels to clean up the mess. Just then, a sound went off from the loudspeaker, & the voice on the other side, notified Dr. Shuyi that the process was beginning, & that the test subjects were starting to convulse. Dr. Shuyi stopped what he was doing, leaving the paper towel he was grabbing half-torn, as well as the spilled coffee, & rushed to the observation room to watch what was happening. He felt a rush of excitement overcome him, utterly disregarding the fact that more human test subjects were about to experience a most-violent death, as he could only feel happy that his family might be saved, should the virus survive.
The exhaustion from all the sleeplessness, along with the symptoms of insomnia, subsided, as Dr. Shuyi hurriedly ran to the observation area, which was a room, with a series of chairs, & a 2-way mirror for the viewers to view the test subjects, as they died in agony from the various compounds they had been exposed to. The fact that these human test subjects were dying a horrible death mattered not, nor did the potential for billions to die in the same manner, as Dr. Shuyi could only think of his family, & that his success ensured their survival, as well as his own. Strange the way the mind works, isn’t it? How could one be “happy,” when billions of lives were at stake? Still, as always, these kinds of thoughts escaped Dr. Shuyi, as he eagerly watched the test subjects writhing on the floor, screaming in terror, as the post-incubated virus began painfully working its way through the blood of these “patients,” seeking to escape from these human test subjects’ convulsing bodies, through each & every pore on their skin. The shock of it all, to any “normal” person, would be unbearable to watch, particularly to a doctor, yet Dr. Shuyi gleefully continued to observe, as the subjects’ pores began to erupt the virus, those tiny little volcanoes, spewing out the blackened pus, as the subjects gasped one final time before their hearts stopped . Fortunately, the room was soundproof, & Dr. Shuyi could not hear their screams, or the last gasping. If he had, perhaps he might’ve had a moment of clarity, a revelation, that what he was doing was not only wrong, it was pure evil, but all he heard was the surreal sound of silent shrieking. It took roughly 90 seconds for the subjects to stop moving, & now was the moment of truth for Dr. Shuyi, for if the virus had died along with the test subjects, he & his family would be dead as well, but if the virus had survived, Dr. Shuyi would become legendary, a permanent hero, for the only God he knew, the CCP.
The time had come, & some men in biohazard suits with various instruments, began entering the room via a decontamination walkway of sorts. First, they needed to flip the bodies of the test subjects over, as they had all perished face down. They needed to get to the vital organs, as well as take blood samples, tissue samples, etc. The subjects had left a mess on the floor, which was now stained with the blackened pus, one of them leaving a haunting handprint, which Dr. Shuyi noticed from the observation room, & for a fleeting moment, some minuscule sense of humanity overcame him, as he thought about his own son, the youngest one, making handprint art for him only a few months prior. The shouts from the testers in the biohazard suits quickly flushed those thoughts away, however, as Dr. Shuyi had finally gotten the news he had been so anxiously awaiting to hear. The virus was alive, virulently alive, aggressively healthy, yearning to survive & thrive within another victim. Dr. Shuyi was instantly ecstatic, consumed with joy, the joy of all that was to come for him, & his family, with zero inclinations as to what this meant for the human race. A few more tests would be needed, for sure, but Dr. Shuyi knew that Mr. Wang would be quite pleased that Dr. Shuyi had been successful in the task he was given. He would be honored, taking his place among the historic halls of distinguished heroes, a savior of the Chinese Communist Party, for the rest of time, & his family would be at his side, glorified eternally as well by the Chinese people, HIS people.
The fires in Canada continued to rage, most of them uncontrollably now, & the smoke was covering cities in the United States from Bismarck to Manhattan, riding the current of the jet stream. Only the Western part of the United States was spared the smoke from these wildfires, thanks to the wind shear courtesy of the Rocky Mountains, sloping the western half of the country from New Mexico to Montana. News reports in the United States had begin to warn residents of the air quality, & blamed the wildfires on “lightning strikes,” but none of them had a clue as to what really created this country-wide inferno engulfing much of Canada, as well as what was really about to come from these intentionally set fires. Setting the fires was easy, but getting Serum-925 virus into these fires, would be another feat in itself. Meanwhile, Dr. Shuyi had been reunited with his family, who he held close for several minutes, so long that his wife showed a glint of concern as to why Dr. Shuyi, a normally expressionless man, suddenly seemed so cheerfully happy to see them all, as if he hadn’t seen them in a very long time. She had no idea of what he had done, or how close she & her children had been to being “disappeared,” via the orders of Mr. Wang. Dr. Shuyi had always been a loving father, but when the tears of joy fell at the sight of seeing them alive, his wife knew that something was different, but as was common with Chinese wives, she asked no questions & showed no concern, simply assuming that Dr. Shuyi had done something great for not only his family, but for the country. Unconditional love & total devotion to the State was primary in China, above all else, & as the adoration from CCP members began to befall Dr. Shuyi & his family, Dr. Shuyi’s wife got caught up in the moment, & quickly forgot about the tears that her husband had shed upon reuniting with his family.
Across the ocean in the United States, breaking news reports began to be broadcast, reports of unidentified balloons flying high above the western parts of North America, first from Alaska, & then from northwest British Columbia, & then down to Montana. The objects were still unidentified, only that they looked to be “balloons” of some kind, & that there were several, slowly moving east, as they drifted into the interior of Canada, & then down into the Continental United States, following the jet stream. What the news reports did not report, however, was that these were the dispensing mechanisms for the Serum-925 virus, & that the balloons were moving into position, to do just that, dispense this deadly virus. A series of canister’s on the underside of the balloons, which had now been successfully guided by GPS via radio frequencies into strategically proper positions, began releasing the Serum-925 virus into the atmosphere above the wildfires. The virus fell into the clouds of smoldering smoke from the raging flames below, which was heavier than the air, & as the smoke lost altitude, it descended with the ash, now contaminated with the very-much-alive Serum-925 virus, & began to cover American & Canadian cities.
Quickly, the pathogen, created in a lab by the great guardian of the CCP, Dr. Shuyi, began to infect the human populations below, unknowingly, as the “vaccinated” people below breathed in what they thought to be smoky air, but only the air of wildfires, as was common at this time of the year when wildfires annually occurred. Surprisingly, few wore masks, which was a stark contrast to the mass psychosis displayed by mask-wearers during the Covid epidemic. This went on for a week, then week two began, as Americans rallied to celebrate the 4th of July, ironically a celebration of freedom & independence. What the North American public did not know, was that the Serum-925 virus had been inhaled now, by millions of them, millions who were so desperate to get the jab during Covid, as well as many of them getting “boosted,” preparing them for the real Chinese-created pandemic, which would undoubtedly, kill them all once the incubation of the virus came to fruition, for lack of a better term. The Serum-925 virus entered their bodies, through the mouth & nose, down into the lungs, to incubate, before it awakened, so to speak, & began to violently erupt, from each & every pore on their skin, like the little volcanos that Dr. Shuyi witnessed from the observation room, expelling the black pus magma, leaving the gruesome handprint on the floor, from the last “patient” he would ever treat. So began the end, the end of us, the end of these United States of America.
“For all of you, & for none of you at all.” by Fish F. Fish🎏
Wow, talk about mind blown, dang. I’m referring to the video linked below, because prior to watching this about an hour ago, I had never heard of this Kozyrev Mirror thing. One word: FASCINATING. Yes, quite fascinating, & so as I always do when I’m fascinated by something I’ve never heard of, I’m doing my own deep dive to learn more. Something ain’t right in this world…period. You can feel it, & hell, you can even see it now, if you use the right eyes. Do not be deceived; I know something is going on for fuck’s sake, something YUGE, but what that is, I do not know for sure yet. I’m always digging though, diving deeper & deeper, like I’m stuck in a Vivarium, with nowhere else to go. In fact, this wonky world almost IS a real-life Vivarium, for nearly everyone, & if you haven’t seen that movie, I HIGHLY recommend it. Regardless, check out the video below, if you are green on the Kozyrev Mirror phenomenon.
I’m not the first to speculate on this, I hope, but perhaps the powers-that-be are using various versions of Kozyrev Mirrors to alter future timelines to there own respective advantages, & we regular folks are living these changing timelines, in real time. The effects vary subjectively…some people are going insane, some people are turning to drugs, some people are exceptionally compliant, & some of us are just noticing these changes & wondering what dafuq is really going on in this world, because this doesn’t seem natural, does it? Like I said, maybe it’s just me, but this world has the stench of artificiality all over it, or maybe I’m just one of the ones going insane, but nonetheless, any of those scenarios could imply that they ARE, in fact, using these “magic mirrors” to jump into different timelines. I’d love to hear more on this, since I just discovered it myself recently, & have been ultra-fascinated since. Fire away mad lads…the FisH™ abides🎏
REMINDER: The DONATE button is to the right if you open my site up into full-site mode…just scan that QR code to donate to my PayPal. The FisH™ abides, & is without a job for now, so anything/everything helps. Thanks dear readers…FisH™ loves you. Cheers. 🎏
Job-less…as in if you have a job, I have less than you, I suppose. Man, I am in quite a pickle, but, you know what mantra yours truly adopted lonnnnnng ago, & needs to resurrect, desperately, & what mantra might that be? Great question, thanks for playing. That mantra, of course, is quite simple…”fuck it.” Can’t take anything with you, can you?…sooooooo fuck it…FUCK IT. None of this, THIS, & with an italicized & respectively capitalized THIS, I mean this…life, existence, gathering resources, you can’t take anything with you when you go. The people who excel at such notions, have kids, & their kids before them had kids, & so, the dynasties grow, except in my world. The bloodline stops with me, being childless by choice, although now I realize that was a selfish choice, or was it? Do I contribute to the consumerism, or do I end it with me, & thus, this gene pool dries up & simply removes itself from the equation, is that still the move?
Sure seems like it…yep, middle-aged, no kids, no real skills, Jesus Christ, I really fucked up on this whole “life” thing, didn’t I? It’s a bit difficult when there’s zero encouragement around to help you excel at your own divinely-given natural talents. I blame myself, of course, but how can I blame ONLY myself? I can’t, YOU can’t. When people say, “You have no one to blame but yourself,” I cringe. Sure, yes, I get it, my choices, my faults, my responsibilities, it’s all on me, I GET IT for fuck’s sake, but, a big BUT, why can’t you blame other people too? I know there’s a new quote in there somewhere…I can smell it. I can’t let this quote become a literary leper, now can I? I have something, but I don’t know…let’s see here(ponders for a moment staring at the ceiling while backing away from the computer). How about this? “Blame yourself first, then blame everyone else,” something like that, how does that sound? Sit on it, so to speak, like I am, & we’ll return to it at the end. Get it? Got it? Wunderbar.
Okay, now where were we? Oh yes, jobless & soon to be homeless, “here’s the deal, not a joke. Don’t jump”(Potato Brandon voice). It’s really mind-blowing, isn’t it? Yes, quite mind-blowing, one could say, that a corrupt used-car salesman failed politician piece of shit like Joe Biden, is arguably the most powerful man in the world now. While most of us wake up wishing it was nighttime so we could go back to sleep, or maybe it’s just me, but nonetheless, while we all suffer down here, these nepotistic dynasties gain more & more & more power. Money is irrelevant to them, just ones & zeros, but power, power is something you cannot put a price tag on. Power makes the price tags, power makes the stores where various items are all tagged & sold, power makes the roads you drive on to get to the store. You can’t buy power, you have to take it, & it’s a game most of us will never play, minus the pseudo-power games we play down here in The Great Mouse Trap. Power makes the world go around, & your tiny little fractions of power, just feed into a bigger machine that combines all your little powers into a bigger power, for THEM though, not for you, of course.
Nope, this whole life game is most certainly NOT what most of you think it is. Jobs…oy vey, “You have to get a job,”…but I hear, “You have to do something you don’t like doing, something that ruins a significant portion of your creativity time, all for little pieces of paper that will be totally worthless someday, maybe someday soon. Regardless, does that sound like “life” to you? Does that sound like “living,” to you? All I want to do is write, & paint, & make music, but you can’t just do those things because you need a job, a stupid fucking job, & for what? To get paid every 2 weeks with some table scraps from King Longshanks. Dang, I just read up on the old late Longshanks. Guy has been dead for 700ish years & STILL is worth more than you and/or I? Do you have a wiki page? Do you have historical records dating back centuries, well beyond the “23 & me” data mining scheme? Do you have your papers, your pedigree papers, do you have them? No, not a birth certificate, those are strictly for the peasantry. The elites have a pedigree, that goes wayyyyyyyyy back, to Roman times & beyond for some, but for us plebs down here, nope. Just a shitty birth certificate, that certifies that YOU, & yours truly as well, are owned, are property, owned by the aforementioned elites, owned from birth, just like cattle & sheep are.
Don’t believe me, then maybe DYOR, DO YOUR OWN RESEARCH, & when you discover that everything I’m writing bait is the TRUTH, come on back so I can digitally cock-slap you again. Edward 1, King Longshanks, is STILL more powerful than you, & he’s been dead for 700 years…let that sink in, & thats’ just Eng;and. Think of these shadow dynasties, all over the world. While the plebs gradually lose more & more, the elites, & their ilk, gain more & more power. Yes, they grow, while you die, & ultimately, that’s what they want, all of us, all of YOU, myself included, they want us dead, dead & gone. Once they’re in the big club, & given the secret, & that secret just illustrates their Great Reset plan. No, it isn’t just Agenda 2030, it’s a culmination of various agendas with an end goal of a drastic depopulation event. A new Holocaust, if you will, or a Sho ‘ah maybe? Uh oh, did yours truly look up the meaning of a Jewish word & discover something? Hmmmm, turns out that the origins of the word Holocaust, are Greek, & the word wasn’t even used until the late 70s, so what’s the deal here? Something smells fishy, pun intended. What about the infamously famous “6 million Jews” who were allegedly murderered? No, I’m not saying it dan’t happen, I’m just saying something smells fishy, & I know fish, trust me on this. The word Holocaust, essentially means “burnt offering to the Gods,” so, now stick with me here, what if the Jewish Holocaust was actually a sacrifice, orchestrated by themselves somehow, to gain the power they now hold today. No one can argue that the Jews, collectively, as well as individually, excel in celebrity, in finance, in media, in power positions, more-or-less, & their building a dynastic race of sorts, the ones that will really rule the world. I don’t know.
It was this tiny fringe minority of Zionist Jews who wanted to take over the world before AI, but now, it appears that it’s a contingent of ultra-rich people, using AI, using it to help them to gain even more power, & thus, the power game these elites play has not only changed fields, the entire sport is different. Make no mistake, those fringe Zionists are still there, lurking in the shadows like parasitic cockroaches, but it’s not only them anymore. While they play their power games, these relatively tiny few, the rest of us have to do what we can do to get by. There’s plenty for everyone, there’s abundance galore. Think about how much food gets wasted & thrown away at the grocery store every night. If everyone got a food card, a bunch of that food would get consumed, but nope, then they wouldn’t get paid to send it to a food bank so the peasants can pick through the rotting food for something plausibly palatable. Always about money…money money money…this artificially propped up joke of a currency. Where’s the true currency? Where’s the real energy flow keeping the zeitgeist rolling naturally, where is it? Why was it hijacked, & who did it? How did they do it? Doesn’t matter, does it? Is any of this drivel going to change what they’ve done, and are still doing, to the global populous?
Nope, nothing I say will make a difference, & my only hope is that maybe, with the seemingly random grace of The Universe, perhaps someone will find this one day & read it, & know what was really going on in the present moment, rather than these scripted narratives via the BROADCAST “news” PROGRAMS that so many people still believe, & abide by. Abiding lies, particularly these blatant lies spewed out by the Fake News Mainstream Media, is a slow death to me. You live lies, you believe things that a aren’t real and/or true, & live accordingly, & therefore, you life is a lie. This is the proverbial YOU I’m addressing this to incidentally, not YOU you, you know what I mean? Who else do you know that can pull off the wondrous triple YOU in ONE sentence? No one, because I just made it up, but I’m sure someone else has done it, somewhere else, but I digress, now here was I? Oh yes, I was wrapping this one up before my black ass falls asleep, holy hell, how do I do this? I just start typing & then these words manifest, & you read them in my past, as I write them in my present. It’s all a bit surreal, is it not? Push the little buttons monkey, then hit this button & your little monkey drivel is published, so that other little monkeys can throw their own poop at this, but since you’re shadowbanned, no one will see this little monkey, not even the poopoo-throwers. Too bad, very sad, sad for you, little monkeys. Inside all of us, perhaps there’s a sad little monkey, but I can only speak for myself, & my own sad little monkey on my back.
On that note, you fishy little monkeys, my dear readers, the time has come once again to wrap up this article. Until next time, if you’re not pedigreed, you aren’t one of them. So sayeth FisH™…
For all of you, & for none of you at all…
If you’re not pedigreed, you’re a mutt, just like most everyone else.” Fish F Fish
“Blame yourself first, then blame everyone else.” Fish F Fish
Yep, that’s right dear readers, today we’re doing another writing prompt, not because I have run out of things to write about…oh no, no, no, that would never happen you silly geese, but I actually enjoy a few of these random topics for discussion, so I’m abiding. Particularly this topic, because the first thing I thought of when I saw the subject, was my Hurley jacket, my ever-faithful Hurley jacket, that’s pushing ohhhhhhh…25ish years of wear & tear, & still rocking hard. I just wore it the other day actually, since the weather where I am hasn’t figured out that it’s Springtime yet, & keeps dropping bouts of cold weather upon us. This jacket is essentially a dark gray mechanic’s jacket, & she fits like a glove, still, after all these many, many years. I’ve done so much in that jacket, so much, that if I tried to narrate all of the things I’ve done in that jacket, I wouldn’t be able to even start, I don’t think.
I think I got the jacket in a skate shop, sometime around my first year of college maybe, I honestly cannot recall, it was so long ago, but if my memory serves me correctly, that was when & where I got it. Fucking hell, I’m getting old…ugh, but I digress. I think it was maybe $50, but again, it was so long ago, that I cannot recall specifically. Doesn’t really matter though, because it’s still here, I still wear it, & it’s still an awesome jacket. If someone would have told me 25 years ago that I’d still have this jacket, I’d have laughed & laughed. First off, I’d laugh at the fact that the jacket was still around 25 years later, & secondly, I’d laugh at the notion that I would still be around, 25 years later. Nope, I never thought I’d make it this far, & now that I have, looking at this jacket, as I am right now in real-time, is proving to be quite surreal, just thinking about all that time, all the places I’ve been, all the things I’ve done, so much of it in this jacket, this jacket that still keeps ticking, just like I do, for some reason, one way or another.
I’ll be wearing my jacket, as a matter of fact, when I depart on my road trip in a few days/few weeks, whenever I go, there’s no set date yet, only the date of having to be gone by the end of the month. Surely, I won’t be waiting that long, & don’t call me Shirley, please & thank you. Nope, I think at the very latest, I’ll be gone a few days before the month ends. I might go even sooner, I don’t know, I just know I want to be where the heart is, at home, & not way out here in the middle of liberal hell, which is where I currently am, smack in the middle of a literal liberal hellhole, & it’s incredibly draining. INCREDIBLY draining, & I encourage everyone else who can, to move OUT of the big cities while you can. Just get out, now, before all hell breaks loose with this Title 42 crap. Oh yes, the border is wide open, & at last count, I think there were like a million illegals ready to come across, & a border patrol that is woefully ill-equipped to stop any of them, so expect a million or so new neighbors to be here…like right about now.
It’s all just another part of the bigger agenda to destroy this once great country. They just let a million New Democrat voters in, illegal voters that are incredibly uniformed, so of course, they’re going to vote for whoever they think gives them the free handouts. NEWSFLASH: nothing is free, NOTHING, so the fact that they assume they’re going to get the aforementioned free handouts, should tell you how ignorant they are about the way reality really works. Again, NOTHING is free, NOTHING, & everything has a price, except none of these illegals are going to get a bill, WE THE PEOPLE are. They print money, then figure out how to give it to themselves tax-free, but in the meantime, they make YOU pay, tax YOU, give YOU a shitty paycheck every 2 weeks that’s also taxed, then expect YOU to just accept these terms ut notum est, without any sort of conflict. Thanks for the Latin translation by the way Word Hippo. Cheers. I enjoy looking up definitions & translations & such, because that’s how you learn for yourself. What’s the point, if you aren’t learning for yourself, know what I mean? Learn for YOU, not for me…& look at that, just when you wonder about finding fresh quotes for The Great Quote Hunt, a “great quote” manifests itself. Oh my…that’s kind of spooky actually. Sheesh. “Learn for you, not for me.” Yep, that’s a keeper for sure.
Okay, it looks like we’ve come to the time where we wrap this daily article up. My jacket, my trusty jacket, a jacket that one could make a movie out of perhaps. Maybe call it, “The Jacket,” & then chronicle my life in said jacket, with some exaggerated emphasis on the adventures I’ve had in this jacket, as Hollywood tends to do. Oh man, such a delusional narcissist, as if Hollywood, or any wood, would be remotely interested in anything I have to offer. Doesn’t matter, delusions are delusions, just fantasies, make believe in my head, as though it would ever become real life. Nope, just delusions. I re-watched a movie earlier, a movie from my youth, a great movie, that’s actually free on Youtube right now, should you want to watch it. It’s called Over the Edge, & it came out in 1979, & features a young Matt Dillon. Surprisingly, not many people know about this movie for some reason, which makes it a bit of a cult classic, doesn’t it? Nonetheless, I’ll link the video below for you, so all you have to do is click it to watch. The FisH™ abides, & you know this. Until next time dear readers, back the blue is great in theory, but in real life, fuck the police. So sayeth FisH™…🎣
Most of you are familiar with this song, & although I’m musically retarded, you get the point. I’ll be taking a different route than before, so technically the entire song is applicable, minus the making music with my friends part, unless you look at it proverbially. Oh wait, all my friends are dead, so the entire segment doesn’t work, does it? Oh well, the song is a classic of classics, & I’ll be thinking about it in my head soon enough. 4th time across the country, man I can’t wait to see those mountains, & eventually, the beach, & feel that Southern sunshine on my face. Ever read the book? On the Road, have you ever read it? I’ll link the audiobook below for you, even though, as all other books, it’s always much better to physically read a hard copy. However, since we live in the Clwnworld future of 2023, here’s the link, linked to a wools now long gone,ubtuNnrwk
I’m actually audio-booking it as I write this, even though I’ve read it 3-4 times now, but regardless, I like the way Jack speaks in his writing. He has a language that I have clearly taken inspiration from, & thus, I feel like I’m listening to a friend, rather than some random poser pseudo-writer. He has a way of describing people to their core, but illustrating them in a colorful way, showing all the life that surrounds whatever person and/or object he might be directing his attention. It’s amazing how all these years later, his main character, Dean Moriarty, based on the late, yet forever great, Neal Cassidy, still captivates the world, simply with his description. A whirlwind wizard warrior in a world that would prove white-hot for himself, like a million blazing suns, who happened to find Jack, who was serendipitously there to illustrate not only this most unique character Dean, but to describe his best friend, Neal, as well. Imagine the odds, of those 2 gigantic literary gas giants colliding, but sure enough, they did, & if you still think there are coincidences in the Universe, think again.
Wow, it’s been maybe 2 decades, 2 DECADES or so, since I’ve read this book. Man, what it must have been like to drive across the country back in the day like that. If you’ve read the book, & know what they had to do to keep the car going sometimes, yet they pulled it off nonetheless, it’s just brilliant, & a brilliantly wordsmithed work of literature, He speaks very “everyman,” & he got his immortally-famous masterpiece out, published in real time, then unfortunately died a degenerate drunk. Nonetheless, he just happened to be in the exact right place, at the exact right time, historically, who sacrificed more life for his own immortality. What could be more glorious? Dying in literary battle, like a warrior, it’s a s glorious as it gets, short of actually dying in battle. I’m not taking anything away from Kerouac, he’s one of my favorite wielders of the pen, but I’m just pointing out that in this life, where you’re birthing, & the circumstances around your birth, can propagate everything in later life. Suppose he hadn’t went to Columbia University, & never met Burroughs and Ginberg, then we might never know who Jack Kerouac was, now would we? It all boils down to circumstance, circumstance which appears coincidental, & most of us, just get another losing scratch-off lotto ticket, while we aimlessly hope our miserable lives will improve somehow. The lottery is a rigged hustle by the way, but I digress….just letting you know. Anyway, we can’t have winners, without losers, I suppose though, right? Sounds like another addition to The Great Quote Hunt. “Can’t have winners, without losers.” Surely, I’m not the first person to say that; it’s just too easy, but maybe I am, I don’t now, & don’t call me Shirley, you ass-kissing looper larpers.
There was such a distinction between “intellectuals” back then, & those who were deemed otherwise. Less people, more opportunity, maybe you could chalk that up to, I don’t know, the world is so insanely different now, who knows? Drawing any analogies between now-times & past-times, more-often-than-not, proves to be a exercise of futility, as we’ve never had nearly 8 BILLION humans abounding, thus, these times are quite unprecedented, aren’t they? Yep, we are in uncharted waters for sure, & as meticulous of a job as one might do to make comparisons to the Fall of the Roman Empire perhaps, it’s simply not possible to be accurately speculative in any reasonable manner, considering the sheer magnitude of what is happening right now, in the real-time. As tiny as we all are, not even visible from space, minus the lights being on. We’re 8 BILLION consumers, always consuming, as in constantly eating, then shitting, & pissing, then repeating, that’s a lot of processing throughout the course of a day, processing that waste from that aforementioned consumption, from each individual person, then throwing it in your face the next day, on top of a fresh new Aunt Jemima-covered breakfast. No, no real syrup here of course, not in the USSA, we only use high fructose corn syrup here, don’t ya know? Sugar crack, I call it, & look at all these fatties like addicts, the addicts they are. Not like their ever going to be admonished for this gross behavior any time soon. #FatIsBeatiful still trends, remember?
Anyway, before I turn this into yet-another meaningless diatribal essay, I’m go to wrap this one up. Also, I forgot that this book was written at a time, before certain cites we’re systematically ruined by failed pseudo-democratic policies. Jack wasn’t joking when he said, ” I can’t imagine the future,” because I assure you, he’s rolling in his grave, as they say, at the Clowowlrd USSA that the once great USA has become. Can you imagine these great sages of the past existing in this wonky world of today? All of the “wokeness,” the open bias and censorship, the scripted narratives pumped out via the fake news, can you imagine what these great figures from the past would say and/or do if they were alive right now, in these cancel culture times, where the name of the game is to silence those who who say/write what your don’t like, can you imagine?
Anyway, I’m done with this one. Yep, it’s time wrap this up, for real tis time, before I start going off on something else in my head. I wonder if I should talk-text document my upcoming journey? Hmmmm, one way or another, I’ll be sure to illustrate my travels; a real life On the Road, in real-time. I’m not planning on doing it again, but one never knows, do they?…so yes, my plan is that this will be my 4th & last time driving across this crumbling country of ours. That is the pan, regardless, unless something changes. I’m just hoping my Beamsy has enough to make it a few thousands miles. Until next time dear readers, happiness is only a few thousand miles away, & well worth the journey. So sayeth FisH™…
Oh btw, Title 42 ends today, paving the way for ohhhhhh…something like a MILLION human beings to rush the border, which obviously, doesn’t sound like it will end well. I’m telling you, all of you MAGA-hat wearers who believe Trump will come in & save the day in 2024 & stop all of this orchestrated chaos, are fools. I know, I know, I believed in him too, but I was wrong, so wrong. He’s in their club, as much as any of the other Capstone Clubbers, because if he wasn’t, how would he have let them beat him in an obviously stolen election. He did, however, & let’s not forget, who was the one who unleashed BILLIONS of these improperly-tested un-vaccines, that were mass-produced, distributed, & administered, all under #OrangeManBad. Don’t blame me; I’m just pointing out what should be obvious to most of you. Apparently it isn’t, but what do I know, ya know? Until next time dear readers, be mindful of where you are, because if you aren’t where you’re supposed to be, simply leave, or get fired. So sayeth FisH™…🎣
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🐡
“If you’re standing in the wrong place, swim somewhere else.” Fish Fish🎏
“You cannot have winners, without losers.” Fish Fish🎏
There’s a special kind of liberation when one gets fired, isn’t there? Even if it’s only a brief moment, there’s something about that whole “fuck it” vibe that’s just…priceless, you could say. I’m living that moment right now. Yup, yours truly got fired…wahwahwahhhhhhhhh, & I’m actually happy about it. The beach, the pool, freedom from the abusers; I just have to make it back across the country. Oh yes, I have a big road trip ahead. I’m just up & moving, & that’s the main point I want to emphasize here. If you’re stuck in a place where you hate your job, hate the people around you, or maybe they all hate you, either way, if you wake up one day with that self-realization, and/or a similar one, then it’s time to go. Just go, fuck it, why stay where you aren’t wanted, know what I mean?
Not to mention, this city sucks. Traffic is terrible, homeless sign-flyers on every corner, Mexicans abounding, like the 3rd city behind San Franshitsco & Lost Angeles, so yeah, fuck this place, fuck that job, fuck where I’m residing currently, fuck all these people, yeah, fuck it, fuck it all. Back to the old mantra it seems, ironically the one I just spoke of a few posts ago…said mantra being “fuck it.” Like everything else up to this point, fuck it. Fah-ha-kah it-tah. When it gets too heavy, fuck it, move, move on, onward & hopefully upward. Time moves to fast, & wasting it being in a place that you hate and/or hates you back, means it’s time to depart. Period. The only obstacle is a few thousand miles, which sounds like a lot, especially when driving, but at this time of the year, fuck it. The middle-end of spring, pushing a new summer of love, 2023, as Title 42 expires, releasing countless illegals into the country…yeah, this is going to be a fun drive.
It’s strange, the way the Universe manifest things; it’s quite surreal, isn’t it? Doesn’t matter, I just want to be home. The beach calls, along with all that fresh seafood, & the nostalgia, of course, particularly after being gone 7 years. Yeah man, 7 years, SEVEN long fucking years, full of chaos & mayhem in my sordid life, like it’s never going to end. It’s not, it doesn’t end, for any one of us, anyone of us stuck in The Great Mouse Trap, which is essentially, all of us. Sure, the levels of the aforementioned chaos & mayhem vary amongst individuals, respectively, but nonetheless, from birth to death, the roller coaster ride begins. For some, it’s a chill roller coaster, like the kiddie coaster, except it’s made of gold & you get free champagne along with a hot towel, like riding first class on a plane. Few people get that lucky, but obviously, some do. Most get the Red Dragon coaster, which starts with a slow climb, crank, crank, cranking noise tick, tick, ticking, as it approaches the precipice, & then WHOOSH, you’re coming out of the proverbial gate, coming out hot. It could be a big loop, some kind of big turn, maybe a big dip then back up, maybe some kind of weird corkscrew loop, regardless, that’s the roller coaster ride most of us get. My ride, however, is the next coaster over from the infamous Red Dragon.
My roller coaster is the Black Cannnon, reserved only for those who are dumb enough to get on it. Blasted out of the gate, with the heat of a thousand suns, followed by uncanny turns & twists, mind-bending heights, with sleeping-on-the-floor, rock-bottom lows, & loopty-loops galore, vertigo corkscrews, all you can handle, the works, as it were. Most people puke, then beg to get off, then jump off when they can’t handle it, but they are them, & they, are controlled by their own fear. Meanwhile, those of us who choose to stay on, are just enduring it with the notion that someday, the ride comes to a slow & peaceful end…gently slow-coasting into the exit port. I’m hoping that’s how this ride plays out, rather than the coaster just flying off the tracks into some hellish doomscape that I cannot foresee and/or speculate about. I don’t know, obviously, nor does anyone else, as the mystery of the future, as well as death, eludes us all. Kind of weird that people are so afraid of it, don’t ya think? Are you scared when you go to sleep? Do you remember where you were before you were born here? Nope…& nope, so why such a fear of the future, & of death? The loss perhaps, the assumed sadness that you’ll never see your loved ones again? It seems like the only ones who are truly scared are the ones left behind, as if you’ll never see them again, but individually, I suppose the fear of death fluctuates. I don’t know; everyone has their own thing, if you will, about their own individual demise. You’d think so, at least, but when you take a big- picture-look at the general populous, it seems they can barely wipe their own asses, so any inclinations that they might ponder higher-level concepts, is a 50/50 gamble. Red, or black, but sometimes people can surprise you.
Yes, you certainly cannot figuratively judge a book by its cover, & before you falsely assume that some-one represents some-thing, give them a chance to show their true colors, before you walk across a broken bridge. Anyway, this daily diatribe has reached its end. Until next time dear readers, do not fear death, celebrate the insanely short life you have. So sayeth FisH™…🎣
Yes, I’d have to reply, “neither,” to answer this cliched question. Seemingly, everyone thinks and/or believes they can be/want to be a leader, but obviously, that’s an asinine notion. Not to mention, it’s a fool’s task to WANT to be a leader, if you are not equipped for such a role. Some are, some aren’t, it is what it is, but just because you do NOT want to be a leader, doesn’t make you a follower, now does it? I can’t stand most everyone equally, more-or-less, so I wouldn’t follow, nor lead, any of you anywhere, minus off a cliff maybe, but I digress. The “gang/herd mentality” has never suited me, & the psychology of group behavior is so bizarre, that I couldn’t be part of any group, even if I wanted to. I don’t though, & thus, I suppose I’m doomed to live my life out riding solo on this roller coaster, minus any leaders, and/or followers, as lone wolfenstein as it gets, just a proverbial ghost in the machine.
People have a tendency to be rather rude these days, don’t they? Quick to react, like lightning quick, so ready to yell, to be angry at someone else, yet never contemplating their own projection when they do. Are you really mad at someone, or mad at yourself? Do you really think someone else is an idiot, or are you the actual idiot? I’d wager 99% of people go through their respective days, day after day, never even finding a twinkling of self-realization about their own behavior, particularly as it relates to projection. Hell, I’d make another wager, that most people don’t even know what projection means. I’d love to see the great Mark Dice do a Man on the Street interview about it; Dice simply just asking random dumdums, “What is projection?” …& then watch 9 out of 10 of them glitch trying to come up with an answer. I bet they would too. I’d do it myself, my own Man on the Street interviews, but the effort does not match up with the reward for a thought criminal like yours truly, does it?
Suppose I were to go out on my own, like I did a few years back on one of my previous channels, go out on my own, film everything on my own as I do the interviews, all on my own, THEN, come home, upload all the footage, edit it accordingly, add my waterwarks, then upload it, all for maybe 20 people to watch, if I’m lucky. Does that sound like it’s worth it? I’m so shadowbanned, what does it matter what I do? I can’t do anything, ANYTHING…ANYWHERE…I might as well be locked up, being treated as I am, like a fucking criminal, a fucking thought criminal, I suppose. On top of all that, my black ass is now subject to the hysterical whims of a handful of people that, to be quite honest, I can’t stand, not one bit. What is the move, what is the move when you feel stuck, as stuck as stuck gets, what do you do? Do you up & leave, just pack up & move on, is that the move? That sounds like the move, & I am sick of being where I am, so why, why would I stay here? Why would I tolerate any of this bullshit I am currently tolerating? Why am I tolerating it? Fuck all these people…seriously, when does it get to the point where enough is fucking enough is ENOUGH, know what I mean? Sheesh.
Anyway, before I tangent even further away from the topic/daily writing prompt, I’m going to wrap this up. Call it an article, call it a post, call it garbage, or perhaps just call it nothing, because that’s essentially what this is, & what I do, amounts to…which is nothing, nothing at all. This opus of mine, if you will, has become my daily illustration of the ongoing love/hate battle with this life. It’s not for potential employers, who the fuck in their right mind would hire me? Derp. I don’t know who it’s for, maybe just for me, in my own prison of delusional narcissism. None of this will be worth anything while I’m alive, & probably be equally, if not more, worthless when I’m gone. THIS, along with my eventual paintings, if I even get to them, are going to be my contribution to this fucked-off, backwards-ass, upside-down pseudo-cultural un-humanity we’re all stuck in apparently. Certainly NOT what I signed up for, at least I thought, or did I? I don’t recall thinking as much as I think I should have thought. Now that’s one awesome sentence right there, is it not? “I don’t recall thinking as much as I think I should have thought.” That one is definitely going into the Book of Quotes. What a shot for The Great Quote Hunt, putting a live round right through that once-beating heart, dropping the beast where it once stood. What a rack.
That’s the epitome of my day, finding a new quote for my book. Wunderbar. Exciting, right? No, it’s not really, not at all. Nothing really is these days to me, not a God-damned thing, none of this, especially being well-aware of The Great Mouse Trap we’re all stuck in, especially when it appears that most others are NOT aware of said trap. Some days it seems like no one does, mainly because no one else uses the term “The Great Mouse Trap,” as that was coined here. I wish I had no idea about these things I know sometimes. Yep, sometimes I wish I was just completely oblivious, & had a life, with a family, & things on my mind that had nothing to do with what’s actually on/in my mind. It’s proving to be extremely difficult to manage this life, with this brain, and/or this heart maybe, if people actually think with their hearts. Some say we do, but I don’t know, since it appears, to me at least, that all the action occurs within the space between my ears, not the space between my arms. One does, however, feel things in their chest, so to speak, do they not? It’s weird, isn’t it? Fear, anxiety, courage, these feelings, all dwell within the heart-space somehow, but is that thinking, as well? It doesn’t seem to be thinking, per se, but one can definitively say that something is going on down there, can’t they?
Oh my, I’ve done it once again. This was supposed to be a placeholder of sorts, but has now morphed into yet another daily diatribe via yours truly. Not even sure what the hell I wrote about, but I’m sure it’s just going to be more utterly useless drivel. What am I supposed to do with all this? No one is going to pay me anything to write anything, so my writing is worth nothing, even though it’s everything I have. The only thing I have, actually, so what the hell am I going to do, if this, is all I can do? Just keep puking out these words of mine until the end, is that it? Is that the ultimate end goal for this miserably tired FisH™? Geez, that sounds terrible. If it’s all so terrible, what can I do to make things NOT be so terrible? Fuck me, I have no idea anymore. Friends: dead and/or gone. Family: let’s just say they’d feel better if I was no longer a burden. Got nowhere left, no one left, no-thing left, as in nothing, I got nothing, nothing except this, & THIS, THIS right here, that you’re reading, is it, this is IT, all of it, all I got. I think about death quite a lot, & what I’d leave behind, if I did, in fact, die, & this, just THIS, would be it, would be all that would be left of yours truly. A bunch of self-loathing scribbles, loathing in general, about the current state of humanity, & one lone average guy’s attempt to explain to future generations how this world, & particularly this once great country, was taken over by a tiny minority of globalist bankers, that at the expense of billions of humans, seek to advance their own self-serving agenda to take over the entire planet for them & their venomously verminous ilk.
Fear & Loathing in Clownworld, maybe that’s the move, with a nice little homage to the late, but forever great, Hunter S. Thompson. He’s rolling over in his grave, watching what has happened to the America he made famous in his classic book, Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas. That America is gone…lonnnnnng gone, & has been replaced by whatever this societal monstrosity we call humanity is. I don’t even know anymore, what is it? What is it that this world has become/is becoming? Great question, thanks for asking. If I had to speculate, & you know I love to, I’d say the powers-that-be are trying their hardest to fatten up the global populous on absurd levels of consumption, in preparation for a big harvest, a Great Holocaust, you could say, to feed The Great Recycler with its biggest feast of human souls yet, if that’s what you meant with your question of course. If you want to know more about that though, you’re gonna have to dive into my archives. If you’re viewing this in full-site mode, look to the right for my archives diver, then simply type in anything, & I mean ANYTHING, & you’ll find some form of red pill Pez dispenser, dropping some bit and/or bob of information you’ve never heard before. Try it out; there’s around 5000 pages of these ridiculous ramblings now, so when I say, “Type in anything into my search query,” then YES, you should type in anything, ANYTHING, into the search bar & see what might pop up, or pop down…one never knows what they might discover in the archive deep dive.
Geez, you’d think at least one, maybe ONE, potential employer, would see all of these articles I write, then help me out by hiring me for fuck’s sake. Do I need to write a new Holy Bible or something? Fuckin hell, how much writing must one do? Apparently, 5000 pages isn’t enough, so I guess I must keep going, right? Can’t wait. Fuck it, it doesn’t matter anyway, I’ve already fucked myself for this life, & whatever’s left of it, so none of THIS, whatever this is and/or isn’t, means nothing to anyone, minus the delusionally narcissistic pseudo-writer in me, & that amounts to less than zero, because that guy sucks apparently. I don’t know. What have I learned in this life, other than to NEVER waste time, what else might I have learned? Hmmmm, it’s a bit hard to say, considering the numerous head traumas I endured, which left me a bit…fuzzy, yes, you could say that those terrible childhood injuries to the computer atop my neck, left me fuzzy in the upstairs…for quite awhile too, with no direct medical attention ever administered. To be honest, I’m still not 100%, & I don’t think I’ll ever be. One particular accident, when I was 5 or 6 or so, that one accident, really fucked me up bad. Is death bad for a 6-year-old? After that accident, I died on the operating table, at least I think I did. I recall watching the doctors operating on me, on my broken face, & someone there with me, watching alongside yours truly, but who was this person? No idea, but they were very…comforting. Nonetheless, when I awoke from the anesthesia, I wasn’t the same, & have not been the same since. My entire life, destroyed along with my young face, ruined face-first, as in my face went first into a flight of stairs. Also broke my nose, which was never fixed properly either. Who’s to blame here? The blame was put on me, always has been, but where was mother? Or father, for that matter, where were they?
Nowhere to be found, & that’s nothing, but I’m not going to traverse through my sordid past anymore today. This article is already longer than planned. My neck is killing me, work is draining, life is a flushing toilet of time, & nothing else is going on. All I want to do is sleep. If I wake up, great, back here to do it all again I guess. If not, I guess I’ll awaken somewhere else. Do you remember where you were before you “awoke” here? I don’t, so I’m thinking I won’t remember any of this insufferable existence either. Maybe that’s what The Great Recycler feeds from…suffering, & the more people suffer, the better the meal, so to speak. It consumes you, your immortal soul self, consumed by this fucking thing, feeding from that negative energy attached to a suffering soul, but since you, & your soul, are truly immortal, it cannot destroy you, it can only “feed” from you, like a parasitic vampire, & then once you’re done, your energy consumed, it shits you out essentially, with your memories wiped, to be reborn here to do it all over again. Of course, this is only speculation, as far as any of you know anyway.
Holy hell, that turned into quite an essay, didn’t it? Oh well, par for the course here, as my regular readers might know…all 15-20 of you if I’m having a lucky day. Not so fun, being shadowbanned everywhere, literally, isn’t it? Can’t market anything, can’t discuss current events in the digital town square, can’t talk to my army of online soldiers, nope, these big tech twats, along with their AI buddy, have systematically removed me from all of the interwebs, like I don’t even exist, so guess what?(looks at the closest CIA agent) THE CIA CAN GO FUCK THEMSELVES, SO CAN THESE BIG TECH TWATS ABIDING THIS NONSENSE, FUCK THE FBI TOO, ALONG WITH THE DOJ, ALL OF YOU CORRUPTED ALPHABET AGENCIES, CAN GO FUCK YOURSELVES UP YOUR POWER-MAD FAT ASSES. On that note, until next time dear readers, if you hate your job, get fired, quit, & make your life what you want it to be. So sayeth FisH™…
Before we start, how many of you dumbasses even know what the holiday Cinco de Mayo celebrates? I’d wager maybe…ohhhhh…1 to 4 out of 100 of you, closer to the former rather than the latter, might actually have a clue. It celebrates the Mexican victory over France around the American Civil War times. Yes, our history is filled with lots of war, constant wars, in fact, & while the peasants war, the ones who instigated the historically respective wars, lived like Game of Thrones. Power power power, while the peasants fight for scraps, your so-called s-elected leaders gain more & more power. At this point, we’re talking long-documented dynasties too, nepotistic dynasties representing multi-centuries worth of seemingly boundless power accumulation. CENTURIES, enough to add up to a millennium, & change, THOUSANDS of years, them, & us, divide & conquer, them, dividing & conquering us…STILL. Sadly, I was born with a proverbial portrait of a crusty silver spoon on the wall, not an actual one in my mouth. I doubt anyone in my family even knows what nepotism is, not that it matters, because even if they did, they wouldn’t act accordingly, & eventually they’d waste themselves quickly being a selfish reclusive hoarder, with zero inclinations toward building dynasties or anything of the like.
How COULD regular peasants, plebs like you and/or yours truly, be expected to get thrown to the wolves, with zero cognizance of what’s really going on in the world, & thrive without excessively unnecessary strife? They don’t, hence The Great Mouse Trap. Feel free to dive into my archives for more on that. Just wanted to link Cinco de Mayo up there, so you all can inform yourselves, or not, whatever you want to do. Until next time dear readers, Know what you’re celebrating, before you celebrate. So sayeth FisH™…
For all of you, & for none of you at all…
“Know what you’re celebrating, before you celebrate.” Fish F Fish
ATTENTION: There’s a Full Moon tonight, the Full Flower Moon, following a lunar eclipse. Maybe Armageddon will begin, if we’re lucky, but most likely not. Regardless, good luck humans. Cheers…
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 