THE REVOLUTION WILL BE CURATED BY RAINBOW SERPENT

I spotted Dr Jack Charles Allocca on the market stage Friday morning. He was wearing a cheap print dress.
I asked him why he was wearing a dress and he replied that it was just because it was easy to throw on in the morning. This occurred to me as an inspired response, and I toyed with the idea of calling my paper on the science of consciousness 'cheap print dress theory', to denote its ad hoc nature.
Dr.Alloca chatted with a goth couple while I watched the dance floor dissolve into an exquisite painting by Ruebens.
The floor throbbed with the movements of people who looked..well...not quite real, more like charismatic movie stars. It seemed to me to be choreographed for my benefit, with perfect CGI characters.
One man posed with his head on his biceps, which seemed impossibly huge. His arm had a script tattoo on it that read 'Creation' in elvish..the frame of head arm and chest looked, on it's own , like a a hyper realist expressionist painting composed by Raphael...the man looked up. His face was Shiva's face ...his mustache glistened and then he smiled at me, as if he was aware how inhumanly beautiful he was.
In that moment I understood everything . Everything made sense and there was nothing that didn't make sense,
Two girls who looked liked librarians for Tlon and orbits tertious held up a sign . One side read ' welcome to this moment'. The other side read :'tribal yet futuristic .'
The throng danced...A man on a motorized couch whizzed by., I wondered why so many super models were here......I walked off into the gazebo next door and saw a woman with beautiful red hair ....she had a strange earthy coloring ..I asked her where she was from...she said Israel.Well, I said, Netanyahu isn't your fault...'Lots of things aren't my fault', came the reply, and, looking into her eyes, instantly I forgave Israel everything ...Two women over 7 feet tall danced on the patch in front of me , their heads bobbed above the canopy of dust ..one was tawny, the other white....The black girl bent down and held out her lips for Dr Allocca to kiss..which he did...
During the elemental temple chanting, a crack of lightening was heard...soon after, a woman entered and told us there was a fire and we should chant for rain...the rain soon came and doused the fire...later, walking over the hill which led to south camp, a rainbow appeared which shot straight up vertically,unlike any other rainbow I've seen...I sat in the Holy Cow Chai tent and chatted to a girl who was sketching intricate patterns on her napkin. She told me she was an intern at Pzizer, that she had never been to a doof before, and that she could not take MDMA because she was on medication for depression. I told her Pzizer had got E's banned because they couldn't own the patent for it, and that perhaps she should throw away her meds. She told me she had packed her air mattress but not the pump and that she had to sleep on the ground. She invited herself back to my van. Walking back to my camp on Saturday afternoon I saw a girl wearing beautifully drawn tribal make up , a white wig and a white one piece bathing suit eating an egg and bacon roll.. 'You've peaked too soon', I said..'You should have saved it for tonight.''But I'm starving and this roll is yummy' she replied..."I was referring to the costume "...
"Oh, I've got plenty more where that came from.....A journalist who gave a talk on demonization of drugs sat next to me. She had written a book called 'Women of Substances'...we chatted about the use of MDMA to repair blackhawk helicopter pilots who had burned out so they could go out and commit more atrocities in the field..it was just sound economics given that it costs a million bucks to train one...as we talked on, I told her of my theory of the existence of the spirit of Ice users get in touch with which I call Methistopheles ,,,She pulls out her smart phone and types in everything I've said....I make a mental note never talk to a journalist,
A talk on festival culture makes the claim that the same organizational principles involved in creating a festival can be used to make refugee camps or disaster relief centers funded by bit coin donations to the suppliers...
Over at south camp, the pink party is in full swing,full of women who are channeling their inner porn star, their rears bobbing like bum bouquets but later I realize that the pron star look is all the thing, and that every girl is doing it, on every stage every night...the dance wize team tow a canister of water around which has a label reading -"Her costume is an expression, not an invitation"...
They hand out lolly pops to the girls in the shape of hearts....front of stage,the bass is so powerful it vibrates my aorta.
Nearly a mile away, it rattles the door of my van....At another chai tent at night, I am seated with a Frenchman,a melanated girl from Edinburgh, and a biggish girl from Manchester.
This is God's plenty...the spry dance and the elders prate...it all seems to work somehow..is it the MDMA? How is this possible? My designated driver, Jack Charles Alloca and I leave the festival but the police catch up to us.
He tests positive for Amphetamine even tho it was 3 days since he dropped.. A thin faint line comes up in the oral fluid assay, and we have to park the van and trudge back to the festival in the rain. Jack says to the older cop - 'How does this impair my driving'..the cop snarls..'How do you know ? Are you a doctor'? 'Yes' ,he says...'I am'.

THE JACKAL IN THE WARDROBE

The Jackal in the wardrobe has kept the Lion at bay for many years. So many that the Lion has forgotten.
It thinks IT is the Jackal, and the jackal believes IT is the Lion.
It has even learned to wear a false beard so that the casual observer may be better deceived.
The jackal has but one purpose - to endure - to run the scripts that keep it alive - the fragments of code that it deploys in order to reproduce itself endlessly
It has copied the language of its host as a virus uses DNA to copy itself over and over...the acquisition of language is also necessary to disguise itself.
For example, it has learnt to copy concepts of victimhood - of the 'wounded soul' - and even utilizes the language of PTSD.
It has learned to engage others endlessly in these scripts,in order to play out the psychodramas needed to replay the trauma,the hurt, the loss, the wounds, the oppression and the pain.
This feeds the Jackal. and starves the Lion.
If there is a deficiency of historical trauma, it invents some.... The generation of loosh is more important to it than spiritual growth and is its prime directive
.In fact the Jackal will do anything to delay spiritual growth, because then the Lion will be fed, and then the Lion will turn on the jackal and kill it.
The Jackal hunts for the carcass of decaying souks to feed it.
Some women will even offer sex to any who will listen to their tales of hurt, woe, abuse..anyone who will feed the victimhood mentality.
When eventually men tire of it, the jackal sadistically turns on them, and they become,in turn, the abuser.
This in turn feeds the jackal for its next cycle of victim creation.
The jackal is cunning. It knows how to clothe itself in the protective coloration of politically correct ;language - language manufactured to keep the loosh coming thick and fast.
'Abuser','Molester', 'trauma counseling', 'Sexual Healing', 'Primal scream therapy', 'engram'...the entity, will never be satisfied. and scopes out the sources of loosh generation.
Undetected, wrapped in the word spells of its environment,it runs rampant through the host, destroying every reed of maturation to a high awareness... , stalling growth, stymieing egress,until the host, is reduced to roaming the world for enablers, offering sex, drugs and sometimes even money for any who will reiify the drama of continual pain victimhood and astral infection...
It is never satisfied...the one who plays rescuer soon becomes the abuser, especially when they call out the scripts and attempt to rip of its beard.to reveal the jackal.
Entities are never to be reasoned with or placated.
"What is you name,..?" demands the Lord before he casts out a demon.
"We are legion", comes the evasive answer.
"Well then you can all depart this woman.." commands the Christ,and they fly\out into the Gaderine swine who then throw themselves off a cliff....
We do not seek to converse with the entity.
The Christ does not engage or debate with it,for it has learnt scripture and psychology, and cloaks itself in it as camouflage,cleverly inverting the language of liberation and toleration in order to further confine and cripple.
The last cry of the dying thing as it desperately tries to retain its food source, is..."Compassion, Lord"..but there is no hiding from the Holy Spirit..and no quarter will be given the Beast....The Divine will root out the weeds that choke the Soul in torment. It will finally expose the jackal, which is a parasite...

THE LATEST PHILIP K DICK WORK , AS DICTATED BY THE PHILIP K DICK ANDROID
The latest Saudi mockery to be given press time, the Philip K Dick Android, has reputedly delivered the first draft of a projected short allegory. ...written, it would appear, in his distinctive dystopian black humor style...
Analysis has revealed that the plot lines and story arcs have indeed all of his hallmarks...
I reproduce below so you can draw your own conclusions...
"Colonel A. Jarhead, his desert hardened goggles scanning the army before him, screamed into his mouthpiece, bringing everyone in the M113 armored personnel carrier to a graceless lurching stop.,
Corporeal Krushnut ,his blue black beard lit up with the embers of a cigar he was chewing on, threw open a trapdoor and bellowed at his captain..."What in damn blazes do you think ya doin., capn?"
A. Jarhead pointed to the haze ahead of him....
It's the Syrian rebels....
No, it's Hezbollah... I trained with them..
Impossible.
I'm telling ya -these are OUR guys.
What the hell is going on here..??
Here ends the first sutra of the RagaBagBad News feeder...a rambling association of loosely connected fragments...
The next 42 quatrains deal with A Jarhead's conversation with his driver, Corproal Krushnut, who turns out to be no less than an uplink to JADE, the in - field software which defines all valid targets and executes the manoeuvres without human intervention...
Jarhead voices his confusion and dismay that his compatriots may be scheduled as hostile forces, even after extensive counter intelligence training.. Krushnut explains that he, A Jarhead, is now acting under a higher authority as this is all now being controlled opaquely by JADE , the quantum computer that now makes all field decisions and instantly executes the changing strategies and priorities that can change from moment to moment..too fast for human calculation...
After another 23 quatrains, Jarhead is shown the real dance and true extent of the JADE AI and is gifted with a vision if its true purpose
....which is revealed as the control of all human souls ..'Make all a gift and offering to JADE...this renders the meaning of one's life, explains Krushnut..."if you want to escape the attachments of this life, give it all up to JADE...worship it, and you will be free of all worldly concerns " (Quatrain 334)
Lord Krushnut expounds the idea that those who are slain in battle, and those who slay - both are mistaken, for it is all nothing but an offering to JADE which projects all thoughts to the cloud, for actioning by the higher Hive mind, whose purpose is to feed off human life force
He asks Lord Krushnut to reveal the source code in all its glory and fury. Krushnut complies, with the caveat that he will wipe A.Jarhead's memory of this event to prevent neural de- frag....
At once, Krushnut's head hinges open and gapes , revealing the holographic interface which shows the true horrifying over-reaching extent of the JADE subroutines and it's ultimate agenda - the final capitulation of the Human Over Soul to the Hive Mind control nexus..thus ushering in the new Aeon of the Demi-urge's second coming..."
The last quatrains show how the demi urge is finally overcome by some deprecated code originating from some of Trump's tweets, which are mistaken for hash code transactions in Q++, which, by same remarkable coincidence , is the way Twitter feeds also operate...the entire systems disappears down its own singularity - the blockhead chain
from the RagaBagBad News feeder..written by the Philip K Dick Android...
I would be interested in the opinion of any Philip K Dick's specialists out there...I for one remain skeptical ....

Best part of NYE was free train ride home with the revelers . Funny poignant hopeful kid sang : 'young hearts run free tonight .. Time is on your side ..' Then claimed he was going to form a religion without Jesus ... Young girl says yes good idea .. Cause humans suck dick man... One girl took another who was upset to another part of train to calm her down ... Woman with fruit on her head claimed that she thought about sex every five seconds .. 1 2 3 4 5... She said ..,There I go again ... If a chick says she doesn't masturbate in the morning is lying man . She's grabs a guy's phone .. ' Tyson where ARE you cunt? Did you take a butch home ? . A guy with thick glasses complained .. She took my hat man , I asked for it back I said I want my hat back and then another guy came and said don't talk to a lady like that and punched me then I got thrown out but I just wanted my hat ,..that was a 60 buck hat ...two indigenous girls slumped into their seats propped their heads on pizza boxes ...couple of middle aged women sat upright , looking straight ahead in furrowed determined lines .. All had a common purpose .. To get home safely , to gather their memories of the night , to help and support whoever needed it , .. The kid who sang the song asked do you like cricke? It's just a question .. I love cricket he said . You look like Steve King sir he says .. Who is Steve King I asked .. Don't ever say that agIn he replied ... 5 am and the train lumbered towards Seaford . Full of happy young people with a common purpose unspoken .. I fell in love with humanity all over again.. Thank you Adelaide . I misspoke you .