Four Hours of Rebellion [E1]
I feel like there was a lot of healing in tonight’s show and it was definitely not only thicker, longer and normal, but “different.” 😉 Wouldn’t it be much easier to just say “better?” Hm, come to think of it, better up to a slight tipping point, were it’s too much, and hence, worse. Hopefully, the show’s on the near side of that point.
Anyway, it was a lot of fun. Up to you listen and decide for yourself:
The ideas about our prior existence and the deevolution of humankind have been addressed at length in my Hammer & Anvil series, and the concepts I relate here in particular, were in Sing Our Own Song [VII]. The issues relating to the prison space I’ve dubbed the “x-box” were touched on in Octopi, Phalli & the Cube of Life set.
I’m sure some were put off by my early rant, but honestly, at the risk of sounding either beastly, or illuminist, the days of the Gods need come to an end. They’ve been of ill use to us so far, and to expect their derision to suddenly turn into love is well, fucking foolish. Ragnarok’s due date is well past due. Time to say goodbye.
And that age will never come while a good number of our brethren worship shit, or even the “brown boys” thrust in our faces [hm, sounds like feces] as the solutions, or should I say “keys.” Rest assured of one thing, there was no accident in the above names. The only they’d appear as happenstance is our/your ignorance, which many of us fools continue to cling onto as ourselves [while we get pissed on].
I first wrote of circumcision way back in Intercising the Soul, and then later, delved into just about every possible reason for the “why” in My Dinner with Stygian Port . Perhaps, one day I’ll stop talking about it, and that day will be when ignorant lunatics stop mutilating their poor children. Until then, I’ll continue to rant on loudly and frequently.
The following collage grew out of the show’s segment looking at Billy Idol’s Rebel Yell, with our eyes open just a little bit wider. The images are a combination of the odd set of pics that came up googling variants of “rebel yell” and “lucy fur.”
Music, can’t be stressed enough (for those unfamiliar with the infamous Gregory, here you go). Yes, for the last bloody time, Lucy Für is a woman. She is the original Rebel. Somehow, via synchromystic to burning human flesh and girls from down under, and somehow it led to a recollection and a joke. I’d like to thank the chat room for guessing the correct location of the English gals. You were spot on:
At Zorba’s Castle, I track down Jez, another of the English group from earlier. She’s a pale blond mousy gal from Newcastle. Sometimes, despite alcohol, I manage to think before I speak. Hence, I don’t say, “Oh, I already shagged one pale blond mousy gal from Newcastle while travelling a few years back.” As it’s getting late and her friend looks tired, I push the envelope on the discussion to rush us along form the “you are/I am getting to know you” stage into the “let’s contemplate getting naked and sweaty” stage asap.
I keep getting interrupted by Dolf (or is it Rolfe). I think I have moved in on his “action.” He keeps trying to get me to dance or alternately, Jez to. On occasion, he’ll also walk up and say [kind of in an Ahnold accent], “Come! Party veet Rolfe!” I lie, and explain that she and I had and early morning jog all the way from Agia Marina to Souvala and back and hence, we’re both just too damn tired. That seems to keep him at bay. On the plus side, he does provide us with the fun distraction of trying to guess his origin. His accent and name insinuate a couple places, but the oversize shirt with the huge orange and white horizontal stripes screams “Manchester!”
Now interestingly enough, my going back and digging up the above memory led to a rather explainable bit of synchonicity. My discussion on shyness, reconnects us back to the girl mentioned above, for shortly after the above paragraphs, I found the line, “You know Jez, shyness is nice, but shyness can stop you from doing all the things in life you’d like to.” Hm, looking back, she was obviously from a time prior to the Newcastle girls being [de]programmed and hence becoming “legendary.”
The use of subliminals was rather pressing this week, and has led me down a road of discovery as to try to find the me behind the years of manipulation of my subconscious by the Medes. I hope that for those with the ears to listen, it has now led you to take steps down that same path. For those still in denial, or unwilling to make the journey, probably about time you found something else to listen to.
These are the two comments I referred to during the show: Living Tiki’s bold step, and Jon’s follow-up to it. Also worth a read: Living Tiki’s journey of self exploration that followed at his site. It’s called Walking the Rebel Path™.
Conversely, for those who haven’t left yet and are still unwilling to take that scary walk, on the positive side, you will never be lonely. There are legions of huxsters out there ready to tell you what they will do to you; so many voices ready to turn your attention out, instead of in, keep your eyes forward instead of behind, and so eager to help drop a brand new load of warm comfort in your pants this winter:
It is stupefying how many insane things people have swallowed out of this conspiracy movement, and how much they continue to swallow, even after all these foretold cataclysmic events have failed to materialize. In the [discussed] below clip from Conspiracy Theory, Mel Gibson was being force-fed gravy by Daddy Savage, known to many as Jean Luc Picard, and insiders as Little Cute Ass of Borg.
Thanks James Ratte for the observant eye [catching the above scene from the movie], and thanks to Alex for the following link: anagrams of clarice starling. That was worm/rabbit hole-navigator Jody Foster’s screen name from Slience of the Lambs, where she “starred” alongside, Hannibal Rectal [simply flipped]. The name also forms “Anal Cleric Grits,” which once again, brings us right back to gravy.
From there, we now return full circle back to this conspiracy “movement,” which I’d be willing to bet was started by the descendants of the Roman Parasite Class. These miscreants, would naturally be haters of one legendary Hannibal [who’s civilization nothing is known about], and hence besmirch the name/myth [associating it to the cannibal/killer]. Below, we have their boy-toy Charlie Scene smearing their gravy in our face, with yet another little inside joke. I wonder if the final score was 33-o?
And I’d particularly like to remphasize the message I relayed to the Christian who called in near the end of the show, we are on the same side. The programs, be they race, religion, sexuality, or even this new “truth” laxative, are meant to divide us over details. And that is how they manipulate us. Let’s stop being victims.
A Few Other Arbitrary Celtic Rebel Posts on Related or Similar Subject Matter
|Dec 2010: Four Hours of Rebellion||Dec 2010: More Rebel More Music|
|Dec 2010: Use Darker Sheets||Dec 2010: A Year of Parallel Alex’s|
Note: Am getting caught up. Expect more updates sooner, rather than later. If any of you missed the image/text update to the Back on the Right Track show, probably on one of the most revelant/relevant shows I’ve done to date, you need to.
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~ by celticrebel on December 6, 2010.
Posted in [Pending]
Tags: alex jones, charlie sheen, circumcision, consciousness, Conspiracy Theory, cubes, embedded cinema, english language, evolution, fearmongering, gay agenda, hollywood, humanity, language, lucifer, matrix (the), mel gibson, patrick stewart, penis, psychological warfare, social engineering, south park, spirituality, subliminal advertising, subliminals, synchromysticism, vagina, wall street