Aeeghh, the World still hasn't 'sploded (theoretically)
& anyway after all that much digging it was 'La Capula Music'
and they were the bastards! Yeah they took to, you know,
trying to dry some credits out of music I did. Not to feel too special about that,
I mean I think it was 40,000 something albums from people, many to've found out
handfuls of years later.
Then a few other services but I sent letters, all of that.
But La Capula, hey, you suck! Ya suck!
So some biffs I guess and buergesses will need to be obtained if not for just
squinting into more legal knowhow myself and doing that, to sort it out.
That's all rather boring I think,
but where I'm at with that.
Anyway I mean since the world, well, exploded, I'm just-- is that the first thing on my mind?
Not really much so.
All the fabrique torque set in still of "having seen too much" still really pries me away from resolution.
That whole big wave that the human thing just plain ends, conscious here just ceases, and meanwhile I haven't even walked in yet to finding whatever other thousands of things in which I am probably banned from takes an effect on priority.
Modern World though, you fuckers are killing heart and imagination, and God damn ya's for that, once and for all, really.
But the world 'sploded so there's no real, you know, kind of admonishing getting to heavy into it.
I took the cone out of the resonator. Again the weather changed just a blip and that rattle and buzz reappeared. I liked the really old string sound better. But through new ones out to let them wear out.
The Gretsch, there are some (G9200 Boxcar series reso by the way) there are some hang ups and immediate tune up needs for that... Some of the screws will strip around the cone plate.
Two of them, exactly, for now. But that wasn't the buzz-crud.
Just the weather changes.. a little offset to the 'spider' frame.. these legs that hold atop the sound/resonator cone.
They act or pretend to be uneven, but I learned to just take the whole thing apart and reassemble it after some pressure applied. And to get some patch fabric or cotton fabric or a combo of both and also squeeze and slip and set them into where the bridge pieces are.
See I thought that could have been the issue fix right before, and tried it a good while.
Then realized, and had to prepare to do it, that taking the whole cone and checking the spider out were needed. What a chore and thing to babysit, sometimes, owning a Reso. But the sound pays off. The result of that warm ringing out.
Still a fret buzz on the low E (D-string for me) somewhere up the fret.
But that $$$$$$$($$$) a luthier charges.. I mean, to hell with that I'll learn it on my own. For what I can. This company called Stew Mac has a great deal of useful info and I scrolled through so hectically many reso forums also, seeing the buzz-buzz rattle problem isn't just some personal malfeasance thing.
Anyway social media is still a downfall of civilization I just wanted to keep up to date that that hadn't changed any bit at all. I wonder what I could get into trouble for with saying anything about that right now, but now isn't the time for that.
Donald Sutherland just had his day again on Halloween special airings
and invasion of the brain snatchers would be the modern update to his (remake) of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. And the original is just as more so terrific.
If I seer into social media can't I go on a tangent again about new Hollywood, too!? Can we destroy the Hobbit? Yes_We_Can! Like some aluminum car being battered by a special made crowbar it sure well can.
No no, its too easy! Like it is to rip off scripts or do some of that good old fashioned DeMoralization Mass Programming, oh boy!
I think health wise, politics, education, culture, history, entertainment, empathy, humanity,
I mean I'm looking from places I shouldn't ought to be, from any side, I guess,
So it crossed lines that are permanent footprints now... etchings into this place of never going back for any of it.
I mean thanks a lot, there, might I say: You Earth Bastards.
But I feel okay, I mean I feel better. I started taking WormWood and all these healings soluble (sic) that I'm sure, as mentioned in the tail end of the last post, appear as some sort of frantic mind frenzy of a kind of massively impaired out-of-one's head "mystical tangent.."
No,No,No. Well.. yes.
But, see, the lines've been crossed. And the dealings of healings,
watching how so many things are being taken off of markets as the 'Big Takeover' happens
(Hello Australia, how are you doing Australia?
Oh, what news might there be in Australia, Australia?)
by all of that I realized Yuri's speeches and research into programming-of-the-human-masses tactics..
well, in some cases.. you Can't undo them!
And why walk into too much crossfire in this snitch-age, this 1984 reverse-age.
But there is enough of a fuss to just see which industries and string-pullers really are the "New gods" of today, Gynocentrically especially! in fairness to get into a heap of trouble touching a touchy subject, all who jump to bark back means you're damn hot on the trail.
But you can... infer an operation of mass divide and conquer, to have people realize it, or come close to doing so, and the absolute rush of "fighting the enemies!" is still so.. bloodrushed, adrenaline-enthused and a built-in-part of the ego-identity-system that to pry away from it, for masses to self-adjust and re-acquaint target, it involves too much self-admitting, undoing, and bruises of the ego.
Which sucks for me I guess because I'll have to lie on lots of application sheets or something, to even be considered for lots of future stuff. hmmmm.
and again don't care enough for peoples identity foistages.
Isn't N.A.C. banned by now, anyhow?
So in a summary I had more services ganking my damn tunes than listeners listening to it. I wanted to talk to maybe a nonalcoholic barfly about the expressions of muse(sic) and then the palpable infusion of it being a kind of sugary candy of never-risk.
Of what industries ain't really infiltrated by now?
I mean I had to spend like 7 months or something, anyway, having hypothetical claws not snarring and digging at me via trying to do "the right thing" in a situation where in today's adult world, a carriage of middle-school mentality finds generation Me down to generation "Zoomer" as a fleeting disparity where retirement seems like some pipe dream and human beings are owned by brand manufacturers.
& to get a reading at a local book store where the book is about a book, and characters of a book, and stories regarding a book, and not just propaganda, and, hate the cock! yeah, that sort of thing, --- I don't know, man. Get to it! You all know you're served a life of mystery. Like that song by ?? and the Mysterians.
Was that the band name? They were like 'The Seeds' I think the single each band had was great then the album was a repeat of all those exact songs though.
Anyway !You Hipster Fucks God Damn You To Hell! Fucking Crikey Almighty! Go Sleep Under A Tent With a Gnarring Rip Gash Without A Damned Tablet For 16 Days and Stand In Front Of A Heaping, Pissed Off Buffalo Horde for a solid "good while" it's going to be a leprosy-fest lookalike show when I'm done reading all your splotchy tattoo ensembles.
I'll box any of you right now! I tell ya.
also another sixteen or maybe twenty something people got stabbed, I think, in the last... 68 seconds, I don't know, I can't keep count.
Which is my update for culture and news.
With an addage that I think Morrisey and Clapton are banned from being a subject of interest for ever, now. See I think they expressed themselves in the wrong way.
Bastion! Bastion!
I haven't invested too much into either really much but recognize their contributions to, you know, their carving to styles and all that.
I more as well liked, well.. who was it?
Anyway what I mean is that in the times of free, going out of one thinking box into another, with the crowd of carefully-crafted and safe-anti-authoratarianismeccentricesqueblomblingapnatricicityianism, mostly, to be frank, and clearly, if put to a precise amount of true and finite accuracy, and very well, if I might add myself! It just strikes me that I think if the Earth does explode I really will understand.. I don't blame it.
Pt II:
If the leprosy Stricken Stick Together:
First off,
Most of the world has Worms and it is alarming.
Second off, I think some cougar,
as in an old lady who smells of porcupine and melon husk perfumes and
walks a stomp-down-the-strip,
had mowed a great number of people down in some micro-car, electric-run, of course,
and has in schedule a statue to be erected in celebration of her rolly polly mow-down.
Meanwhile I think some funds are going for a Twilight Zone statue to be put up in Binghamton.
If you wanted to ask me what I really think, it's that I would love to see that statue up but strickenly would fear for its very life, really.
Which means that those things that are true, true inspiration stay everlastingly tall and firm standing then within our own hearts.
Before splattered all over the damned concrete, with husky go-getters taking selfies-for-change infront of spoiled debri!
There ya lug nuts ban me for saying that!
Pt III:
Yellow-Stone front hugs a more upward Volcano, Small Talk, Brain Laundry,
and my chances to convince a Tik Tok burnout to down a shit load of "Ahayausca" and get real for once and invocate the Spirit of a Sumerian Star Janitor to then hack into a new series of Transhumanist robots waiting for you!
See, a hitch hiker walking around with a knife in their back (because they were just leaving out of Ithaca!) walks by some weird bio lab where he sees little glints of all the transhumanist robots right there lined up. And everybody about to die from "the jab" will have their souls sucked out and reloaded into transhumanist robot "things" will...
nevermind, it's a story in progress. Some kind of filthy humored comedy about becoming a real "can-do sorta espouser" of a new and spiritual-denounced religion.
Where all things get real cold. And the weather gets real cold. And human empathy gets real cold. and people learn, like, after it's way too late and it's real cold! Another name for it, with it being so referenced to "cold" is:
Freezer-Faster
or that could be a front for a better title:
Dysgenia Pandemia and Me!
then Alec Baldwin because the star player, ya know, and aims a gun at everybody and says
"sorry, you good for nothing sons'a bitches!" and squints his furry little eyeball and fires away.
And collects a paycheque and has no time for a hotel.
It's kind of an ad-libs thing where you can just replace anything offensive or upsetting with those ya think are the real insidious! you know, and then just... what's that!? Crucify the Harry Potter author!?
Crucify the Harry Potter author!???
Yes! Yes!! Rah! Rah Rah! (see what I mean.)
No, I'm not up to date on that, or a little late on it. That's "Old News, Man" or whatever lingo you darn zoomers, you! use today.
Hey Zoomers!
I got a little something to say to you, too, now that I'm at it!!
No, no.. never mind. (ya ain't worth talking to, get out of my site you pithey clamsacks.
Go do what you're best at and become moderately active at the game of pebble tennis.)
Thankfully I think I got the important stuff covered by now.
I'm a little rusty, if you know what I fucking mean, with writing anything at all.
Or doing anything. Pretty much I just hiked off to, for all you need to know, Bermuda,
and placated inside of an egg sack. Ol Jolly, I like to call it.
So I squished around with an embryo or whatever right inside of "Ol Jolly"
and kinda figured the odds there.. about the future of all the planet bastards and that kind of thing. Considered "Reverse Evolution" or Dismantling of Civilization as... this whole weird ongoing civility seems to be succumbing to. I mean look at the pop charts and disagree with me. I dare ya.
and what I learned is that hey you really just gotta get yourself an eggsack, you know.
But stay the hell away from mine.
Pt IV:
Scalped In Belgium
or why we must teach everyone to
Please Never Get Keen To Demoralization Ritual! Oh Please Never Let People Get Keen Whiff Of Mass Demoralization Ritual! As Long As EveryOne Is Angry And Tithed And Run From Gutteral Level Astral Induction, then Please Never Get People Keen To Mass Demoralization Ritual!
and therein I go into some ongoing layout of programming populace and exhibiting some sorta kinda exterior whiff and life energy, soul-measure, the recreation of self-programming and world media nefarious playing with peoples intents and souls gets all "spelled out" but then all n all get hooked in so soon after by another mass demoralization ritual.
So I just figure to, you know, do my thing.
