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🎣
Today, Tuesday, Taco Tuesday, graciously appropriated from Mexicans, yet no one seems to mind. Personally,, I love themed food days, as I am a skilled chef, so it gives me ideas for my daily eats. I don’t eat shit food…i.e. nothing processed and/or anything with high fructose corn syrup in it. That crap is poison, literally, like the crack of sugar. Raw natural sugar, like the kind you might find in organic honey, that’s ok. Sugars in fresh fruits, no problem, but this intake of the high fructose corn syrup has to stop. Have you seen all the fat people lately, especially here in the land of the morbidly obese, the once great US of A? They’re EVERYWHERE, so many fatties, all inflamed & gross, & why? It’s from all that high fructose corn syrup. It’s actually illegal in many countries, but here, nope, it’s celebrated, as the nation collectively gets fatter & slower & dumber by the day. This 6th-year senior country went from captain of the football team to Treasurer of the Student Council, out to steal all the money & power, keeping everyone in an arrested developmental high-school mentality, no longer here to win the game for the home team, to graduate on time to move onward & upward, nope. They’re failures, & parasites, trying to pull you all down with them, & for the most part, they are successful at keeping you all down, in this rigged game. Incidentally, do you know what a “whirling dervish” is?
This is a whirling dervish☝🏻, & I chose this title for this daily Foozer for absolutely no pre-thought notion, other than that for some reason, that term jumped in my head this morning out of nowhere, the whirling dervish. No idea where I heard it, but like an earworm, it’s in my head, so I thought I’d use it as a random title for today’s article. Hmmmm…they are spinning, whirling, as the title implies, so maybe something to do with loops, circularities, I don’t know, just randomly came in on the frequency I dialed into this morning. I wasn’t even 100% sure what a whirling dervish was; I had the thought of this GIF in my head, Muslims spinning, but I had misremembered the part where they wear this unusual attire, these dress-like clothes that make a spinning pyramid of sorts when the dancers “whirl.” It’s captivating to watch for some reason, to me anyway, maybe now to you as well. At the very least, I’m going to confidently assume that you had no idea what a whirling dervish was before you read this, but now you do. Just another little something to add to your own lexicon, for the sake of the saver of s-words, weaponized words in your own armed armory, & your collective wisdom of course, for the sake possessing true knowledge. It’ll be important to hold onto someday, & I’ll tell you why below, so keep reading. Only actual power YOU have is via knowledge, TRUE knowledge of what is TRUE truth, & what is really real in this wonky Clownworld we’re all apparently stuck in together. There’s many illusions, shadows & echoes, tricks of the Great Trickster, a galaxy of pills to pop. If you don’t know the ways, the ways of the game, this rigged game, you’ve already lost, before you’ve even truly begun, how disappointing. The more you know, ya know? The more you know, the better your odds of making it to the end of the board. All you can really do is try your best to get to the end, there’s no getting out of The Matrix, not until you’re hanged by the proverbial neck until pronounced dead…dead dead dead.
Then, if you aren’t mindful, immediately upon your death, you’ll get recycled, right back into the game, via a universal reincarnation machine. DO NOT GO INTO THE LIGHT, that’s the trap, the soul trap, where your memories are erased, & you’re “reborn,” into a new behbeh’s body, only to be used as a pawn again in the aforementioned rigged game. This “life,” is NOT what most of you think it is. Oh no no no, it’s not what most of you perceive it to be at all. This is the big secret, that occult knowledge, shared amongst only those at the very top of the pyramid, the knowledge that this is planet is for soul harvesting, for something that is most certainly NOT human, at least not like you or I. Maybe they’re humanoid, maybe they can appear to be humans, like us, but they aren’t. They’re the minions of the Great Recycler, like the orcs for Sauron, helping the evil eye feed on human soul energy, via the spirit-recycling apparatus, the Great Recycler. It’s “The Light,” you know when people blindly say, “Go into The Light when you die,” they’re ignorant fools, for that Great Light just resets you, wipes your memories, then starts you over, like a battery getting recharged, except the battery is YOU, the true YOU, the soul YOU, is being harvested for whatever these non-human feeders are. I don’t know exactly what they are, who they are, why they’re here, or where they came from, & obviously I don’t know if any of this is true or not, just another one of my wild theories. Do you wanna know something though? My bizarre “theories,” many I have learned of & studied via my own DYOR time, but I’d say around 83-85% have come to pass as truth, NOT theory, NOT conspiracy, but TRUTH, real TRUTH, & with an average 84% accuracy rating, I think I’m doing quite well with my exposure of these hidden truths about what is really going on here, as opposed to the reality they want you to believe, the one they make up as they go, then puke all over all of you, then leave you to clean up their mess, while they go make another messy mess somewhere elsey else. Why? To keep you occupied, to keep you confused, to keep you controlled, to own you? You, yes YOU, that is why they have sold their own souls to the Great Recycler, to have power over YOU.
Why did they, the so-called elites I mention ad nauseam, why did they take everything from me, from you, from all of us really? For me, all my MATERIAL possessions, nearly all gone, but why, why was it all taken from me? Maybe because I know, I know their little secret, I know what is really going on here, like winning the lottery in reverse, I won the answer to a very big question: “What is the true nature of existence on Planet Earth? That’s right, I won, & participation trophies are fish food here, only one winner, me, myself, & what I won, is something much more valuable than something as malignantly ludicrous as money. Therefore, they, the they who feed the machine, they’re trying to break my will, just like they’ve broken the wills of most of you. Can’t have an non-complacent herd, & your “leaders” are your herders, herding you to the big house, where you go & don’t come back. That is where “The Light” is, it is warm & cozy in there, & so they lead you all there, with clever programming, & magic tricks, via all potential mediums, yes they’ve infected them ALL, it’s all connected, with the end goal to get YOU, to embrace “The Light,” so you forget yourselves, as most of you have, which won’t matter in the end, as you’ll soon discover with me.
What I have uncovered this round, this round where I finally remember the truth, the true truth, the truth I found which gave me the knowledge, a great secret, now known, now knowledge. Here you go, shared with everyone & no one, this real-time round of another time, in The Great Recycling, is now mine, & is now yours too, this secret exposed to anyone who happens to be right here with you, & with me, right now, right here. Do they know I will NOT forget this time? Maybe I’ll tell them right now, if they are monitoring me, & this, with AI assistance. AI, CIA, globalist filth, if you’re reading this, when you’re reading this, know that I know, & now WE know, so take your dark arts voodoo & go cliff diving at the Grand Canyon. Truth is knowledge is power, & exposure takes the power back that you stole from all of us, all of humanity, for a seat at the scrapyard under the old oaken table, in the shadow, at the feet of the Great Feeder. Nope, not going to steal my memories again, along with my soul energy, along with all my true gifts, given to me by Source, NOT via the Great Recycler. THIS, this knack for illustrating with words that I seem to have, is only a mere fraction of my true abilities, & yours too. Ever had dreams where you can fly? I have, & it’s effortless, as if somehow I instinctively know how to fly, like the angels in heaven, yes I can fly, & so can you. That’s just one example, one example of one of the seemingly amazing abilities humans are capable of, only it has been taken, all of our wings, clipped, the scars removed, then we “no-clip,” back into this backroom, back here to this soul-harvesting apparatus, over & over & over again, feeding the beast, feeding The Great Recycler. I have actually seen this entire process in action, with my own eyes, even though it wasn’t these eyes, not these 3d eyes, but my 5d eyes, in my super-conscious, yes, I have seen the Great Recycler, recycling souls, billions maybe, so many, feeding this God damn thing. Want to know when/where I saw it?
DMT, the key that opens the door, revealing the room where you can actually watch The Great Recycler feed, like watching a wild zoo animal at feeding time from behind safety glass. This is how I saw what I saw anyway, you can take your own route, good luck with your travels, but this was MY way to get deep into the Interzone. Very deep, you have to dive deeper than you’ve ever gone, with zero fear, just balls up & go. This is ONLY for exceptionally well-experienced soul travelers though. If you have a weak mind, & you do this, you might jump off the cliff & never come back. Fair warning, for all of you, as this was MY experience, & I am only illustrating MY trip, from my experience, for your perspective, & ONLY your own perspective. Do your own thing, don’t do mine. Now, with that little clause out of the way, I’ll tell you what I did to get to where I got. You have to do AT LEAST ¼ gram, in one go, yes I know that’s a lot of DMT, particularly if it’s legit 100% pure DMT, ¼ gram, divided into 3 consecutive blasts. First blast, hold, hold, hold, exhale…second blast, hold, hold, hold, exhale…third blast, just hold, hold until you leave this 3d space, & you will. Doing that much at once, you go well-beyond the “blast-off” that people talk about. In fact, there is no blast off, it’s straight into inner space. There was no high-pitched whistling, none of that, just an immediate WHOOSH, then I was ludicrous-speed traveling through a twisting series of backrooms, left turn, right turn, right turn, left turn, no direction, no ability to change my direction, like a moving walkway, I went through this series of turning rooms, until another WHOOSH, & I was out of those fractal backroom hallways, & there it was, in all of it’s Uber-ominously overwhelming pseudo-glory, right there in front of me, feeding, which I didn’t know yet, but would soon come to understand this monstrosity, The Great Recycler.
Yes, I saw it, watched it, like I’m watching this screen right now as I type, I saw it, with my own 5d eyes. Look at the GIFs above, & below this paragraph, for your own visual reference. It was MASSIVE, impossible to speculate how massive it actually was from my vantage point. It could’ve been as big as a planet, & maybe it had to be, for what it was doing, but I’ll get to that momentarily after I finish describing this shadowy juggernaut for you. It was almost identical to the giant octopussy spider creature from that show Stranger Things, except it had more “arms,” which actually resembled tentacles more than arms, & there were quite a few of them. I had just WHOOSHED, & then found myself standing at the edge of a giant prehistoric scene, like if you’ve ever driven through Utah, that rocky barren expanse of unusually shaped rock formations & stony ground, which seems to go on forever, not a creature in sight, not a tree, not a bush, no water anywhere, no life, just like a desolate Martian mesa, & The Great Recycler was there, to my left, taking up the entire left side of my view in fact as it was so huge, but what was it doing? I mentioned feeding, so was it, in fact, really feeding? What was it feeding on? Before I could speculate any answers to these questions, these questions I found myself immediately confronted with upon seeing this thing, I began to notice something. I began to notice, that I was suddenly warm, very warm & cozy, blissfully warm & sublimely cozy, & the more I watched this thing do whatever it was doing, the less I kept thinking, like literally no more thoughts, & as my thoughts stopped, I was felt myself being pulled toward the Great Recycler. I somehow wanted it though, at least part of me did, it felt so warm, so cozy, I wanted to let it take me, & all my thoughts, & I had no more concerns and/or questions, just let go, let it take you into itself, where it’s always warm, always so cozy, just let go, & I did, I began to let go, & let this thing take me, take my energy, take anything to keep the warm & cozy going, but then, it stopped…another WHOOSH, & I was back, back at the edge of this giant plain, watching the Great Recycler, & able to think once again, & I was no longer alone…
Before I tell you about my new friends, let me describe, in detail, this sordid scene I was now seeing clearly as my wits had returned to me. As I said, encompassing the entire left side of my view, was this giant creature, completely black, couldn’t see a face anywhere, just a massive black mass, with many of these tentacle-arm things, too many to count. All of these appendages were the receivers, receiving what looked like pure light to me, yes, they were all sucking up this light, but where was this light coming from? It was coming from a glowing river, like liquid lightning, pure white, the whitest brightest white you can imagine, & this Mind Flaying giganticus creature was feeding from it, but what was the source of this intriguing energy stream I was witnessing? PEOPLE, yes humans, people like YOU, billions of them, all stretched out on this giant plain, underneath the Great Light River, but all stuck, halfway in the ground, buried up to their waists, & at the tops of all those billions of blank-eyed heads, were their individually respective lights, like spot lights, right from the tops of the heads, & those lights were feeding, feeding into the Great Light River. All those little lights, combining into a massive liquid lightning energy river, & the giant spider-octopus creature was consuming all the light from the Great Light River, this river that all of YOU, were collectively feeding into, as this inter-dimensional great black entity fed on YOU. When you die, your brain naturally releases a massive dose of DMT. Is this where you go when you die then maybe? Is this what happens? You die, arrive at this same place, this place I am describing, you see the light, the light of the Great Light River. It is warm, so warm & so cozy to gaze into. No thoughts, just let yourself go, let go into this bliss, & then you let go, & your soul, your immortal light being spirit of divinity from Source, flows into this collective river of souls, all warm & cozy, no thoughts. You all flow together, flow to the Great Recycler, until eventually one of its tentacles sucks up your soul, feeding on you, yes YOU. However, since your soul is truly immortal, & can therefore never be destroyed, the Great Recycler feeds on your light energy, erasing all of your memories, then essentially shits you out, into a newborn baby, all just do it again, & again, & again. You have to start all over, with instinctive inclinations toward your true Source-given gifts, but you have no memory, nor your true abilities as an immortal light being. You’re just a human again, a meat puppet for a new soul to be ultimately harvested by the Great Recycler, could it be as simple as that? How did I escape this monster?
My new friends helped me escape. Since I was still technically alive, & just floating by with a DMT parachute when I happened to land here after going heroic with the dosage I inhaled to get to this place, my friends came to the rescue. Who were these new friends? There were four, four of them altogether, so distinct I could smell them. They smelled…celestial…only way I can come close to describing that smell, but I’ll never forget it. Once I had come to my senses, & put together what I just illustrated for you in the preceding paragraph, I looked behind me, & what did I see? Four of them, four angels, four armored archangels, around 7 feet tall, there they were, glowing where they stood, with some kind of ethereal aura around them. Oh, & the wings, oh yes, beautiful white wings, shimmering though like Labradorite, with colors unable to be understood, even in 8k. They all wore armor, this radiant armor, the armor of God I suppose, true light warriors, soldiers for Source, battling for light, for the true light, not this Great Recycler thing, & all of its malevolent darkness. Upon me seeing them, & them looking down at me, the closest one said to me, “Watch, but this is NOT for you.” That’s the only thing any of them spoketh unto me, & it was just the one. I don’t know which one was which, Micheal, Raphael, Gabriel, no idea who was who, or if that’s even who they were, but they were there, there with me, watching out for me, & apparently they pulled me back, before I got sucked up into the Great Light River, saving my life I reckon, because that was a MASSIVE DMT blast to take all at once. Any experienced psychonaut would agree 10000% that that is WAY too much for a novice, & as I am not a rookie by any means, I can handle it, aided by archangels, then come back to tell you the tale I just told you. Heroic doses are for all of you, & for none of you, just like this website, got it? YOU do YOU at your own accord, at your own peril, I am just here to speak through the songs in my sentences. And so we all silently watched, the archangels & me, my new friends, watching the Beast feed, feed on YOU, all of you, all of your souls, your light, your spirit, your divine energy gifted via Source, the One true light, all being stolen, & consumed, & shat out into the toilet of time, all to get flushed, then re-consumed, forever, forever & ever. All the while, you have no clue, & just keep coming back, only to eventually be harvested again, only now exceptionally fattened first, just like cattle. Is it so hard to conceive of?
Notice all the fat people lately? I asked you this in the beginning of this article, thus completing my circularity, in Divine time, as always, so randomly perfect. What do we do with cattle? We breed them, grow them, give them the illusion of happiness, then line them up to slaughter & eat them. WE do that, so what would stop some kind of higher-dimensional entity from feeding on US, on YOU, on your souls? Fattening up the herd, so the harvest is more plentiful, do we not do that? At this time, right now in this present moment, there are more people than ever in recorded history, pushing 8 BILLION, 8 billion lost souls, more souls incarnated in bodies then ever before, as far as we know. Maybe you are all being fattened up for the biggest harvest ever, & these so-called elites, who herd you like cattle, are just the foot soldiers for the Great Recycler, taking what it gives to them, taking power, power over YOU, in exchange for their souls, & yours, completely under the spell of the Mind Flayer. They have tricked you, all of you, into allowing yourselves to feed this fucking thing, not really living, just consuming, fattening your souls with folly, & in the end, after you take your last breath, you go to the Greta Recycler, you go, or rather you let go, into the Great Light River, so warm & cozy, only to be fed upon, your memories erased, then pooped back out into a new body, only to do it all, all over again. Is that the truth? Is this really what is happening here? Is this the nascent stage of The Great Harvest?
Fuck if I know, I am just a writer, writing to complete my own circularity, which I have done, as the beginning has now become the end, only to begin again, the serpent has found its own tail yet again, & must feed, always feeding, round & round, like the whirling dervish do. This daily Foozer is spinning, spun, spun out for now, down the flushing toilet of time. Bloody genius, such a lovely loop. Speaking of time, until next time, be the light in the darkness, but know the darkness, as we only have little time, such little time, to find the Divine. Don’t get recycled, don’t let them unwind you, keep this in mind, for YOUR soul, not mine,
This is the end…dumdumdumdum…my only friend. No, not really the “end,” don’t be daft, just felt like starting out today’s Foozer with that earworm. It’s funny, when I was younger, I idolized Jim Morrison, but then once I passed the age he died, that infamous age of 27, my veneration of him began to fade. Nowadays, in my own Middle Ages, I’ve realized that he was just a drunk kid who was good with wordery who came up in an era where he could get away with it. Of course, I still think he was an exceptionally unique artist, but he blew it, way too young. 27 is too young, he missed so much. He could’ve aged gracefully as a poet and/or an author of some kind once the music ran its course. Surely, he wouldn’t be among these aged rockstars STILL out touring & playing the same stuff they played 50 years ago…looking at The Stones, Fleetwood Mac, bands like that, I think Gordon Lightfoot might even still be out there & he can barely walk. It’s sad to see. Hell, I even saw a recent show from the B-52s, a band who came up almost 20 years AFTER those classic bands of the 60s, & they looked rough…yikes. Getting old is no bueno, & personally, I am NOT looking forward to it at all.
It’s not so much the number of the age, it’s the physicality of the aging itself. You can easily see it in these rockers I mentioned in the previous paragraph. They move slow, barely even quick enough to keep up with the metronome. Their voices have become haggard, along with their faces. Some of them are fat, most of them can’t play like they once could, & some of the singers even forget words…yeah, it’s that bad sometimes. How is it that these elderly rockers haven’t banked enough loot to just retire? What are they still touring for? Money? Or for the love of the art? I’m sure it varies, maybe often it’s both? I don’t know, I’m not an aging rocker, & no one knows and/or gives a fuck who I am, so all of this is just another one of my rando ramblers. It’s fun to tune into the stream, channel the stream, pure stream of consciousness, just tune in your dial, then plug your hands into the receiver, & let those fancy fingers furiously fly. That’s how I do it anyway, how I do this, whatever this is. What is this I’m doing here anyway? Writing, channeling, scribing, creating, illustrating, all of the above, none of the above, what is this, this thing I am doing here? Let’s not over-complicate the matter…
…it’s just this, MY thing. I find certain concepts & ideas & inclinations intriguing, then illustrate my respective intrigues for a faceless global audience. Most writers use only words to illustrate, but I have my own formula, if you will. When one thinks of illustration, more often than not, a type of imagery as a physical display comes to mind, usually in the form of pictures & videos. Writers write articles, then add photos to better detail the topic of the article being written about. Occasionally, they might add video links, or maybe a link to a video on a social media platform like Twatter or Facepoop. Regardless, it’s always either a picture and/or video and/or a link to one of these two options. There’s a THIRD option though, & seemingly no one knows about it…no one except me that is. Oh yes dear readers, your narrator here most certainly knows the elusive THIRD option, & this third option is mine, mine all mine, MY thing, or at least I can confidently assume it’s only mine since I have NEVER seen anyone else do what I do when I compose articles. You’re seeing that third option in real-time, right now in this very moment while you read this. The third option adds a unique attribute to my articles; it gives them life as it animates my words, this thing I do. Have you figured it out yet? What is the third option, MY third option? I even hinted at it…”animate,”…
The third option is…my animations of course. MY animations, mine, I make all of my own GIF animations. Making GIFs is a unique way to create art, especially with this self-manifested style I have developed. Much like my favorite food, the treasure from south of the border, oh sweet ceviché, it’s NEVER the same when you eat it. It’s always a different recipe, even if it’s the same recipe, there’s always a difference, no matter how subtle. Same with my animations. You never know what animations I might add to my articles, & neither do I usually. I write the articles, then add and/or make animations as needed to complete the given article, adding them in between paragraphs of my article. Ironically, the GIF also represents my circularity. You know, the circularity I always mention, the ouroboros, my serpent eating its own tail at the beginning & end of every article I write, respectively. The GIF is a literal ouroboros because it loops, forever & ever & ever, looping around, eating itself, but it’s not as easy as just making an MOV file loop. You MUST avoid the “skip.” The “skip” is a slight pause in the loop of the GIF, so instead of a seamlessly clean loop, you’ll notice a very brief pause when the loop loops. For me, it’s a sign that the maker is no real GIF master. I am very meticulous about removing the “skip” entirely. My GIFs come out as clean as Mr. Clean’s shiny bald head, smooth & round, round & round on a clean loop, 100% skipper-free, lemon scent wafting in the breezy breeze. Here, I’ll show you below:
Dirty Skipper:
Clean Skipper:
See the skip in the one above this one above this sentence? It’s a fraction of a second, but it must be remedied. I’m a perfectionist with my GIFs, so the removal of the “skip” is extremely important in the GIF creation process. As I said earlier, only a true GIFcryptionist knows of the infamous “skip,” & if your GIFs skip, you might wanna skip your skippy ass back to digital finger-painting class until you rectify your errant folly. Too many artists, not enough magicians, not enough fruition, maybe there should be an inquisition of the Spanish order, but I came to a door…& I looked inside.
Looked inside to complete my circularity for this Foozer. Never fails. This is the end, my beautiful friend, my only friend, this is the end, end of this. Until next time, be good, be bad, be something, be nothing, just be I guess.
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 