Barnett and his LNP criminal mates in Western Australia have given all our money away building roads and infrastructure to mines that will probably not return cents on the dollar invested by the State over time. This is because of the precipitous drop in commodity prices across the board, (not just iron-ore), that people in power knew was coming but hid from the unwitting public. They did this so their rich mates could get even richer by milking the State for projects they could skim profits from or divert income into streams of slush that could all be hidden in the economic collapse (that we can all feel but are told to deny and live a fantasy instead!) that is being managed carefully from behind the scenes but before our very eyes.
What’s new?, I hear people asking. Yes, it has ever been thus.
Let me preface this next part of my rantings by stating the blindingly obvious that cynical, rich, and powerful people decide our fate and yet they are completely bereft of the skill-set necessary to undertake such a task with anything approaching an empathetic, all encompassing, vision. Easier said than done, old cheese! So they just enrich themselves at our expense and to hell with the consequences to everyone who can’t buy their way-out. We, who are now so dependent on the elite system of welfare/warfare are left with no choice but to fight over the crumbs that they toss-off down to us. They call it the ‘trickle-down’ effect and it has been raining down ever since they thought that one up. I feel that they want us all to be carrying round multiple packets of jiz-wipes just so we don’t have to wipe it off with our bare hands.
Then again, it’s so hard, trying to second guess the conspiracies of the elite against everybody who isn’t protected by an even greater bunch of elite conspirators. With myself being a conspiracy of one, I have found it difficult to enunciate my rather simple plan for the future of the human race. The moment I get asked a question on that subject of interest by someone I’m unfamiliar with I immediately have them eliminated in case they are just trying to get close to me through my genius. I have to be careful not to let the ‘brain-suckers’ from the Bank of International Setttlements get to close otherwise they will suck all my vast intellectual resources out my backside and redeem a set of party animals with it.
I figure that because I’ve only got one picture this week I’d better use it three different ways to vent my spleen, so to speak. I’m using the technique of subtle difference and understated revenue base to articulate the inherent contradictions that are ever present in the great mind of Colin Barnett and his (ad)Ministers (opiates to the masses) concerning the needs of the few and the needs of the even fewer, needy, rich, parasites who gravitate toward politics like it was their mothers tit.
Well, there you have it, three uses of the same piece of art-work so that I can justify to myself waffling on and on about subjects I have mostly only second, or third, hand experience of. I should make a huge song and dance about the fact that I’m educated enough to realize that I was well and truly set-up to be the fool. Not only in my young life, but in adult-hood as well. The apparent winging is because I want the world to know that it is ‘coincidentally’ fantastic that we should have a ‘security’ scare just before ANZAC day as Tony Abbott was worried not enough people (families) would be coming out to celebrate the fact that we’re better at killing people than most others on the planet. He even came on the telly to congratulate all the participants in the latest ‘false flag’ and not to blame Muslims for being mad terrorists who could explode at inappropriate times and in places frequented by those not hooked-up to their own form of suicide vest. I’m gonna say that the whole MIC looks like a suicide vest to me. It just proliferates Helter-skeltor without the harsh restraint of a strong civilian polity. I can’t be positive about such subjects when people, in general, just have no appreciation of the corrupting ability the MIC has. Most people think that it’s right and proper to be gung-ho for war when it isn’t on you. Australians, apart from a few bombs dropped on Darwin during the second world war, have no experience of war being waged around and through them. Like in the Ukraine.
Seeing as it’s ANZAC day soon, I will tell you my experience of being a child of parents who were made civilian casualties of war. Not in the sense that they were literally bombed out or forced at gun-point from their homes but they did have bombs dropping around them as they were in north London and endured the Blitz. My mothers recollection is of becoming so fatalistic that they wouldn’t even go to the bomb shelters as they were often no better than death traps in themselves. Her father was on ‘fire watch’ and one time had to attend a building where the shelter was above ground and when he walked into the shelter found all the people there, still sitting, dead from the shock/blast wave of a bomb that had gone off some streets away.
These things would tend to leave disturbing memories for those who witness them.
My mother was strafed with machine gun fire one time while playing in the street with her friends from a German fighter plane of some kind. Probably one of the escorts for the bombers who regularly flew their bombs from European soil to England. They weren’t as regular as the ‘Doodle-bugs’ toward the latter part of the war. V-1’s and V-2’s that would emit their unique low hum that would shake the buildings as they came overhead whereupon their motor would cut out and then the agonizing wait in chilling silence until the whistling just before it hit it’s (un)intended target as it came almost straight down.
Then there was those incendiary-bombs that could kill with their shock-wave alone. Probably the cause of the deaths I mentioned earlier. Plus add the specter of unexploded bombs going off without warning and you get some very distorted individuals moving forward into adult-hood.
It has become a certainty of mine that both my parents got PTSD and were never diagnosed or treated for it.
From my own internal studies of my family and all the external examples of war-torn families I’m sure that my life would have been different in a more positive way if I had not been born to people who have been victims of war.
They messed-up my brother and myself pretty thoroughly whilst they were exploding at each other, unable to break free of the PTSD programed into them during those formative years. They reproduced the battle at home and the arbitrary and seemingly random carnage with it. But hey, nobody actually got killed or seriously injured so as long as my father could hide the war from the public by moving us all around the world so we could never make contacts with people who would see the destruction, everything would appear as normal.
We hide our wars from the public who pays for them.
Same shit, different bucket.
So when Tony Abbott sculls a bucket of shit and grins from ear to ear we’ll know, … Yes, we’ll know…. that war is great as long as it’s somewhere else. Killing and terrifying the young and old alike because they don’t count and we don’t really care because we’ve never directly encountered war. At least not around our own homes as it was for my parents.
My parents eventually separated and divorced when I was 16 having completely disrupted my childhood and schooling by running around the world and being at war simultaneously. Creating kids who couldn’t socialize when it really counted and instilling a lack of emotional stability. The cost to my life has been devastating and long lasting.
THAT is a cost of war that you wont find in the collective sub-conscious of an increasingly unconscious nation as it sleep-walks toward another series of conflicts that keep us tribal and stupid.
You wont find me at any ANZAC day ceremony commemorating the death of countless millions just so the elite can justify their swinging cuts to social services and welfare, here, in Australia, or anywhere else in the world that they aren’t actually bombing at the moment.
Maybe that’s it. Either you’re on board with the bankster led credit freeze and impoverishment of the working classes or we’ll turn your country into a cesspool of extremists and then use them as an excuse to bomb the ABSOLUTE FUCK OUT OF YOU!
Now in my fifties, I can reflect on my own mis-spent life and wonder where it all went wrong.
Deterrence would have made a decent first name if it weren’t for all the negative connotations associated with it’s parent and legal guardian, Deterrorist.
I’ve had enough of all this for one day/night/day, so I’m taking my cross-eyed rattle-snake to the hypnotist to be stuffed.
Horserotovator is overtired so he is going to operate some heavy machinery while arguing over the phone about unpaid drug-debts to some Bikers who just happen to know who his favorite politicians are. Let me put that another way, with the price of smack dropping through the floor and crystal-meth being the drug of choice self-destruction, politicians will try and get their name as closely associated with the drug as possible without actually producing a pipe for the cameras and whacking down a few lung-fools of polly kool-aid.
“Listen to me, kiddies, I’m your prime minister and I love war because I see no problem with killing to get my way when it comes to those evil other people who I can’t know because if I did I’d be a traitor who was conspiring to overthrow me! You understand, I’m sure!”
Oh, God! Let me operate this heavy machinery in a manner that will render even the most reckless amongst us speechless!! Fuck-off biker-scum, I don’t owe you nuthin’ for that crap gear……Don’t shout, faggot, your boyfriends might hear you and come running in with your favorite douche-bag, douche-bag!……..