In the present media driven drivel to determine the the next POTUS we are, if your paying attention, being bombarded with 30 second sound bites, dreary debates, and talking head analysis that borders on being nothing more that ideological influenced pernicious gossip. There is no God when it comes to the politics of the day.

We have people who are running for positions of power over our lives who we as individuals, don’t really know as individuals. We are reliant on what has proven to be an untrustworthy MGMSM regurgitating the candidates own talking points flavored with the particular ideological perversions of an MGMSM mouthpiece.

This may sound pessimistic but all political decisions these days should be flavored with a heavy dose of pessimism and doubt. We are presently living under the foul stench of a liar and a fraud who bamboozled and hoodwinked normally independent thinking Americans into thinking it offered a better alternative when in fact it turned out to be a travesty of vast proportions. So much for HOPE and CHANGE, eh!

Only one candidate is talking about relieving our nation from the travesty of the Income Tax and the bankers cabal called the Federal Reserve and that is Ron Paul. Dr. Paul understands and knows we can not call ourselves a “free people” as long as we are living under the economic slavery of the income taxes and the tyranny of the Federal Reserve. At least Rick Perry had the honesty to call Social Security a ponzi scheme which it is and is ripping off working peoples hard earned money by making future promises which the government cannot presently keep and which is poorly managed. (If people where to take those same dollars and invest them in private equities, the return on investment over time would be 100 times greater than what one can expect to receive from the pitiful fraud of Social Security.)

We are on the verge of economic collapse world wide while the central bankers rake in huge profits and then whine about the state the state of the global economy as if they are innocent bystanders, when if fact, the international banking cartels are the cause and effect of the present global financial travesty backed by fiat currencies world wide, but do you think you’ll ever hear any of the present presidential contenders take aim at these crooks and call them out? Don’t hold your breath, because you’ll be comatose in the interval.

Get educated to facts of the global financial situation and vote with your head and not your emotions. Such irresponsible behavior is the very reason the world has suffered for so long under the machinations of an insidious evil global travesty of greed and pernicious policies that have led to wars, famine and human misery planet wide.

Listen carefully to all the rhetorical propaganda spewed by these pompous pandering presidential jackanapes, their lackeys and the penile putrid MGMSM and you’ll see I am right!

I have submitted my resignation to the Boss Mane. I quit. I ain’t gwayin’ to be back here no mo at the plantooshun nushun. I have had enuf. I bez broke, ain’t got a dime or a pot to piss in, I bez old and ugly, and nobody wants me.

So, I figgered, what have I got to lose! Why not just say screw it and head out the door and not give a damn. That’s what I think. I’m basically taking up space where others would rather be. Isn’t that the whole deal anyway? You move into a place that nobody wants only to fix it up real nice so that lots of people want it, and bunches of folks line up to figger out a way to get yer ass outta there.

Well, that’s where I am right now. I ain’t got nothin’ but this stoopid computer and a lottery ticket that better win – or else. I just sit here in amazement as to how people struggle to live on this largely inhospitable planet. Now, however, I just don’t care. I don’t care what people do to stay alive – how much bullshit they stir up and how many lies they tell.

I think I’ll hang my fishin’ line out there and see what the cat drags in. Maybe I’ll find some toothless mama who will take me in. On second thought, frankly speaking, I’m kinda burned out on the whole people bidness. I need a break from people. I’ve had enough of fussin’ and fightin’ to last me three or four lifetimes. That’s all people seem to do anyway.

I don’t know what I’m gwayin’ to do with myself, but like the saying goes when you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there. It’s kinda exciting in a way. I might get to meet new people in a different place. I might get a different perspective on life that might cheer me up – at least for a while – that is, until they prove to be just as disingenuous as the ones that came before them.

I tried the whole cloistering thing. I grew a big long beard and took vows of chastity and such. Those were the good old days, that is, until others in the community weren’t of the same ilk and were more into the whole materialism thing. I won’t labor that epoch of my life, however, as I look back there seems to be an appeal of small villages that appeals to me. No more than a couple of hundred people is fine. That’s about the limit of the numbers of people that I can keep track of all their trials and tribulations in life. Beyond that, it’s just plain hypocrisy.

I dunno. I might try to learn a new skill. I might just become a janitor, maybe one of those rich Jewish janitors that the Prez’dunk of these here You Knighted Steaks of Amur’kuh bez talkin’ about. Hmm, I wonder if those jobs are listed on craigslist or if it some secret network? I’m not ugly enough and weird enough to be a star and dance on the godforsaken teevee. Plus, since I don’t take drugs, am not an alcoholic, don’t have sex with strangers, and don’t have piercings and tattoos, I’m kinda out of the running for anything except being completely alone most of the time.

I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself, but I know this much. I’m broke. That’s not to mean that I have not worked hard. But when you’re being ripped off right and left and with people getting in your face telling you how you ought to keep your mouth shut and behave and not talk about your faith (the only thing that keeps me going, by the way), it’s kinda hard to keep going, especially if your income is going down constantly, too.

I’m not trying to be the world’s biggest victim. I know life isn’t fair. It’s just that I don’t want to be reaching out to strangers looking for someone who agrees with me. Frankly, I don’t give a rat’s be-hind if anybody agrees with me or not. I just want to be left alone. You see, because of the fact that abuse isn’t always physical, it is the mental variety that wears a person down over time. The key is to arrest it before it eats your brain away to the point where one cannot remember the last time they really laughed and meant it. Or when someone didn’t have to worry how to keep a roof over their head, while always keeping in mind the escape plan: First, sell the car. Then have a yard sale. Then give away your pets (the hardest part). Pack your shit into nothing bigger than a backpack. Email your rich “friends” (before your Internet gets cut off) in a last ditch effort of trying to find anyone who will let you live with them. Then after all the vainglorious attempts to make sense of ones life have failed, buy a bus ticket to podunk and pray to God you will find a kind individual with a room to rent and who doesn’t think you’re a criminal. Oh, by the way, keep enough on hand for the godforsaken bankruptcy attorney. I forgot to mention that one.

Yes, I quit. I am throwing chance to the wind. I mean, who cares anyway. I figger I’ve got it better off than those stupid drug cartel people who enjoy sawing people’s heads off. I don’t do that, but chances are I might wind up living next to them if things keep up the way they are going and my luck continues to dwindle at the rate it is going. Ah, the inconveniences of being scum. Oh well, screw it. Some people sit around and bitch about stuff like that, and at least I will have an opportunity to witness it firsthand. Can’t beat that with a stick. Eat your heart out.

Then again, I might meet somebody or find out something or fall into some opportunity that might take me to the next level. Who knows. Maybe I’m just overreacting. Probably. But the thought is what is important, at least that’s what people say when you give them a shitty gift for their birthday. Oh great, more English Leather. Just what I wanted. Thanks. I’m just shocked you didn’t give me soap on a rope, douchebag. I can hear it now. Of course, now it isn’t polite to say this face-to-face. It’s all about being polite when you tell someone else what a loser they are. ‘Oh well, maybe something will turn up.’ That’s people’s way of saying, don’t call me when you’re homeless. Moreover, once your phone has been disconnected I’m going to burn all traces of you in the barbecue pit and then have a beer and piss on the ashes.

Oh yeah, this is what feels like, baby. This is what it feels like to be a nobody. Oh wait. I take that back. This is what it’s like to be somebody you thought you were until you wind up becoming a nobody, at which point nobody else gives a fuck. Oh well, lessons about friendship and love are hard ones to learn. I admit that I am a sucker just like everyone else. On second thought, it takes a sucker to know other suckers, and hard lessons are good ones if one is interested in conning others for fun and profit. But to be honest with you I tried that already, and I’m not impressed.

So, here I sit all brokenhearted. I tried to be successful, but only started. Maybe there is such a thing as luck. Right now though, I’m convinced it’s more like luck is for beginners. After that, it’s all downhill from there – that is, unless you are a superstar and can have good luck last a lifetime. But that rarely occurs, and everybody is pretty much stuck in a rut just like me. I understand that, and honestly I should not be complaining. I am only saying this now, because there is a strong possibility that I am more screwed than a hooker at closing time. The economy has finally caught up with me, and I tried to get up and ride the wave as best I could but it ain’t workin’ out.

It’s been fun chattin’ with y’all, talkin’ about how evil people are. Nawsuh, I ain’t bitter. I’ll just prolly move on over to some other asshole’s plantation and pretend to be enjoying it over yonder. They say life is what you’re experiencing right now. All these times I spent lecturing y’all chillun about the evils of the plantation are basically for naught. Everybody has to serve a massa somewhere. One day, after bowing to these make believe ones on this Earth, I hope to be by the side of the one true Massa. Twixt now and then though, here I bez, hangin’ on by a thread, watching in utter amazement as people go on about their bidness like nothing ever happened. That’s the way life is, ya know. I has to remind maself from time to time that where ussens iz ‘venturally gwayin’ is somewhere where ain’t nobody who bez alive knows about yet. At least you can’t say I’m closed minded in that respect.

Peace, y’all.

-TPN

Bear Hands mixes it up on a Friday afternoon…

-TPN

-TPN

Here is the proverbial smoking gun, folks. Yep, that’s right. Iran has been buying gold over the past several years in order to get around their foreign reserves from being frozen. And guess what happened as Iran accumulated gold that put it just behind the UK in holdings? The price tripled.

Now the price of gold has fallen precipitously by some $200 per ounce in the past week alone. The drop is not enough to put the Ahmeningitis regime in a bind, however, it does appear that something is going on – something very odd to say the least. As gold goes, so goes Iran.

-TPN

Dream, sung by Amaury Vassili, and presented in Eurovision 2011…

-TPN

That pretty much sums it up for me. I really try to be just another stranded time traveler on this planet. I know, however, this is but a mere journey to another destination. People will always foolishly fall in love, there will be new people to educate, the forces of good and evil will do their dance, and depending upon the way God has the universe jiggered, the outcome is – after all is said and done – predictable.

Oh sure, go ahead and tell me you don’t believe this. I dare you. That is the whole irony of life, you see. That we all protest and scream and kick and yell, but in the end none of that is going to do anyone a bit of good. History will march on revealing the one redeeming light of salvation. No, I am not talking about a spaceship landing on Earth with aliens spilling out and marching over the land to rule us. I am speaking now from the soul.

It’s time to reveal exactly who I am. I am frankly tired of pretending any longer. You see, I have this body that works fairly well. Oh, it has its problems from time to time, but thanks to the miracle of modern media one needn’t worry about that any more. You see, hordes of folks are out there somewhere conjuring up ways to make the system work better so that our bodies, mine included, can all be taken care of. That way, you see, more people can pursue their one true ambition of making the world a better place.

Oh. My. God. Is that all it took? Why, I never knew. How about I just say that I don’t accept that at all. In fact, let me say that there is a difference, a stark difference, between what is good and what is evil. And let’s be honest, this is why we don’t need a sixth sense. Five work just as well. We all understand the fundamental difference between rhythm and discord. In fact, the media’s job is to make discord look appealing by making it rhythmical. Rap is just such an “art form”.

I do not believe in the redeeming qualities of art. I feel that art has nothing more to do with saving people than nuclear weapons. It is the idea of only one person, which can either cause the universe to operate rhythmically and in sync or not. Cursing and swearing, for example, are things that God definitely does not appreciate. It’s not that the Big Guy doesn’t particularly like it, but it just makes people look like fools. God does not like it when people look like idiots, because, after all they are His creation, and after all, if people had any sense they would take that into account before making themselves out to look like stark raving mad idiots.

Yes, folks. I believe that beauty is skin deep and ugly goes all the way to the bone. I don’t care if Michael Jackson had a thousand plastic surgeries, enjoyed sleeping with youngsters for whatever reason, was eccentric as all get out, and had his own petting zoo, people want to connect with their innocence. They want to do this so desperately, that the corporate media figured out a way to find a child and turn him essentially into Peter Pan. Yes, I believe that art is propaganda, and beauty is something that one will not find outside themselves. Most of people’s actions are spent in complete and total ignorance of this fact, and nothing proves this more than the great American empire, which by the way, is being exposed for carrying on one of the biggest propaganda campaigns in the annals of history.

All man made ideologies pass into the yellow pages of the dusty history books. Yet, what remains is nothing more than the deafening rhythm of the universe. The act of being alive is so strong and so profound and yet so beautiful and violent altogether in its entirety that if one isn’t humbled beyond words then frankly the point is completely missed. I believe we are nothing except for the honor we bestow upon the creator of the cosmos. Whomever it is, whatever it is, where it came from, who it spoke to when it was here and for how long does not matter one bit. What matters is rejoicing for the mere fact that we are here right here and right now.

Be glad just to be alive. What else is there, really? Yes, it is often a painful journey. And yes, there are great tragedies and set backs. There are times when the whole rhythm of life seems to have been shifted and tilted in favor of evil. This is only the human perception of fearing pain or a rebuke from that which is more powerful than themselves. This is normal, and this what I believe. I believe that people fear that which they know to be right. People know that the forces of the universe are far greater than them, individually or together as a whole. Instead of first understanding humility, people want to naturally skip to joy. This too is normal.

The media’s job is to provide a faint outline of what happiness and joy are. Their motive is to present the world as a place where anything is possible and the end always justifies the means. This is actually factually correct, however, the pathway to happiness does not lead to joy at first. There is a great humility for ones lonely position in the cosmos that cannot go unattended. I believe that this is what people really want. They want to understand from whence true joy really comes. Nobody wants to say it, but I will. In fact, I have been writing about this for eons.

The whole slave routine I put on here is obviously fake. The reason I adopted this character is because I wanted to convey my sense of deep loyalty to the cosmos, which I refer to as the massa. It just happens to fit really good, because people feel they are slaves to the government. This is because people allowed themselves to be lied to about shortcuts to happiness. This is what politicians do to get reelected. They will tell you exactly what their media consultants told them to tell you. That if you do this, and if you do that, then suddenly the whole place will be better off for it.

I am going to tell you the flip side of it, and I am not running for dog catcher. The deal is that if you have not yet come to terms with yourself and humbling yourself in light of the vastness of the universe and the fact that the planet upon which we all currently reside will continue along with or without us, then you are simply not going to be happy. Period. There, I said it. Aren’t you happy now? No, I’m not talking about hugging trees and protesting against global warming. I am not talking about bombing another country. I am talking about understanding that no matter what one does, the world and the rest of the cosmos will go along with its bidness like nothing ever happened. Either find the rhythm of the world and tap into it, or you will not find peace anywhere.

Not only that, but I believe that art is nothing more than a way for people to convey the notion that they have found the rhythm. Art, for me at least, is essentially a coming of age type of expression. It is what people refer to when they find the path that will take them to a place of inner peace. Real art is the acting out of rejoicing over the discovery of ones true nature. In that sense, Michael Jackson, for example, never found it, which is so appropriate in terms of describing the thrill of the struggle to be ordinary that the media portrays as being happiness itself. That, my friends, was not true art, which is why the death of someone who never achieved true happiness always strikes a chord in us.

I believe that the more the evidence piles up in favor of a viewpoint like this the more people will be convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is a much greater power than ourselves. This is the elegance of technology in an age when nothing goes unnoticed. Those who try to ignore the delicate balance of good and evil in humans by interesting themselves in their own personal gain have missed the point entirely. Abundance comes from wisdom, and intellect is merely a stepping stone, not a destination. Not having to live in fear of the thorns of alternating judgment or compassion is the most powerful state of being and is a joy whose rewards are unending.

The struggle to be ordinary is well worth every ounce of effort one can muster. Only animals have it easier. They don’t understand fear. Life is what is before them – what they can see, feel, taste, smell or touch. The rest of us humans though have to make up our minds and decide what our purpose is beyond our perceptions. This is not only an irony but it is a commandment. It is the work that every single person has to do on this planet or else what lies in store for them are the traps laid by those who profit from others’ misery. Oh yeah, they’re out there. Trust me. They are.

So there. I feel better. Don’t you? What? You don’t feel good? Why not? Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like this so long. I guess I don’t have any right to say stuff like this. I’m not particularly smart. I do love to watch as people come of age though. That’s the whole reason for the art thingamajig we slapped up here. As y’all can see, me and the Boss Mane have started in on working together to bring some art to TPN. Before we did that though, I just wanted to make sure y’all understood what we think art is. It is the joy of expressing the end of the struggle to be ordinary, which is something we feel everyone can do.

-TPN

-TPN

Well, do y’all feel better now that it’s all out in the open that the godforsaken corporate media are scared to death of it being discovered that they covered up the goods on the prez’dunk – purposefully, mind you – and for profit. They would prefer that he just not be reelected rather than to lose any more viewers that have already had their minds ground up and churned out of that monstrosity.

Yep, today’s news is that while millions of unemployed people are lining up for food stamps, and while the investment bankers are running the world (so to speak), Russia and China are overtly flaunting their seemingly newfound hegemony over the globe by creating disturbances and distractions galore. Meanwhile, our best response to date is to make more solar panels. Seriously. Making more solar panels will solve the world’s problems. That and Lady Gaga.

Yes, that’s right. Tsar Vladmir Putin anointed himself as king of Russia and ordered his bee-yatch in Tehran to threaten the You Knighted Steaks with a nuke attack. Meanwhile, don’t forget to read all about the Michael Jackson “wrongful” death trial. Yeah, as though it would have been wrongful under any circumstances. Actually, the doctor should be given a medal for God’s sakes – a Nobel Prize perhaps.

So, that’s today’s news in a nutshell. The whole damn place is going to hell in a hand basket, and frankly I think I’ll go blow my brains out. But wait, hold on a second; on second though I think I’ll go blow my teevee apart with a 12 gauge double barrel shotgun. Because the only thing that concerns the media is what those media executives are going to do if they don’t meet their sales goals, and say, for example their jobs dry up.

You see, it’s just that Obummer isn’t selling like he once did, and the godforsaken corporate media know this. Their ability to report on the crap going on in the world simply is no match for the amount of crap that can be stirred up. Call it Uncle Baruch’s Law of Bullshit [UBLOB], the amount of UBLOB present in the world being directly proportional to the ability of knuckleheads to conceive of it. And the premise of this is that anyone can be convinced to believe anything, even if people die in the process. The point is to make life as enjoyable as possible while discarding all rationality concerning the omniscient nature of evil.

And this is being done in this manner, because people generally would rather believe in the tooth fairy. That is, one must be “good”, so that when evil arrives at ones doorstep in which bad things ensue, at least they have someone else to blame for it. It’s called the victim card, and it works like a charm. Heck, it’s so powerful that it’s almost a shoe in the media can be counted on to deliver the next big thingamajig, the new and improved prez’dunk of these here You Knighted Steaks of Amur’kuh, complete with authentic frontier jibberish talkin’ poly-tishuns who go round professin’ to know how to fix everything.

Frankly, my puppy dog makes more sense, and that should not be news to anyone who has half a brain…

-TPN

I’m flat out done with ‘splainin’ myself to everyone. All I want to do now is just raise hell. ‘Course, raisin’ hell is an art form, iffens y’all be catchin’ ma drift. And, by the way, I’m on my Moon Pie and RC Cola break right now, and the sun shonuff do be hot, and I’z gots to git to gittin’ in just a minute.

But I wanted to tell you chillun somethin’ impotunt, which is that a life lived without raising hell ain’t really done been lived a’tall. And the ultimate is to live a life of raisin’ hell, whilst doin’ so in paradise. This of course means, that you’ve got the proverbial life triangle thingamajig worked out that the massa be jumpin’ ussens’ shit about all the time.

Yassuh, the massa be talkin’ shit about how impotunt the life triangle iz, which is that ussens gots to has the love thang, the money thang, and the house thang worked out ‘fo ussens can be happy. Yassuh, that is shonuff what the massuh be tellin’ us. That in order to be happy, one must have money, a house, and somebody to love on.

Lawzy, iffens I could just haz one of them thangs then I’d be happy. ‘Course, nobody hardly gives a damn about my sick, tired old sorry ass no mo. Folks just stare at me like I’m some kinda goddamn fool or somethin’. All I bez tryin’ to do is to go to the plantation sto to pick me up some viddles and head back to my shack to watch the ball game before retiring to the bedroom for a nice, hefty nine hours of blissful comatose disengagement from the world and all its trials and tribulations.

But it’s those other 15 hours when I raise holy hell. I fuck with people’s heads and shit like that, ’cause the good Lawd done did give me the ability to do such thangs, and, well, iffens I didn’t follow through on the way the good lawd made me then I wouldn’t be fulfillin’ his promise, now would I? Didn’t think so. Yes, that’s right. I raise hell all day long, which is why I poke fun at people who think they got the whole world figgered out.

You see, folks that go ’round sayin’ they’z gots the whole world figgered out is slightly reminiscent of what the massa himself be sayin’ when he be talkin’ trash about how ussens ain’t measurin’ up, lessens ussens haz us a house, and some of the massa’s money, and somebody else to squeeze and hold onto during my 9 hours of respite. So, of course, since this is the law of the land, then I went out and gots me all three of these thangs.

Wellsuh, now that I gots me somebody to love on, I can tell them everything. (As in every-thang.) And of course, this includes the good, the bad, and the yougly as well. Which means that my hell raising side was made possible by the one who knows my sick ass best and tolerates my bullshit. That right there proves they’z must be a lawd up in heaven lookin’ out for even people like maself, ya know. And what makes it more interesting is that now that I have reconciled with the good lawd and admitted to being a jerk and abusing others with my lack of wit and charm, I decided that it ain’t no bigger crime to go and pretend that I am a nice person to others – in return for money of course.

Yassuh, now I really know what the massa means by the triangle of life. This ain’t like that triangle in Bermuda, or the fertile crescent, or the Hollywood Squares. This ain’t no make believe thang. This here stuff iz real, y’all. I’z gots the whole shebang rightchere. Uh huh, sho nuff. I’z gots the luv thang, the money thang, and now I’z gots me the house thang, too. Which of course, at all costs one must have a house, no matter how bad that plantation shack be under water, or however they describe it when ussens be owing the massa mo money for it than it’s worth.

And so, I’m a perfectly miserable asshole in a very nice, presentable, charming way. I talk about the good Lawd with the utmost respect, ’cause I believe that lightening might strike any moment and all hell could break loose. But the way I got it figgered out is that iffens I continue to behave like I bez actin’ now, then nothin’ bad is gwayin’ to happen to me. All this hell raisin’ don’t make nobody no nevermind no how. Folks are too busy to care about what anybody else is gwayin’ through in life. I s’pose people just don’t have the time – or don’t make the time – to work on the massa’s triangle. I did, and I’m having a blast raising hell in my little paradise on earth.

Now, I know y’all think I’m full of it, which is fine. But even tho I ain’t gradugated from school or nothin’, and I don’t know shit from shinola, I do know a thing or two about life. And I can tell an unhappy person a mile away. They smile too much, and iffens ya try to pin them down about why they bez smilin’ so much, wellsuh, why they get scared and run away. Poor hurt chillun who just don’t lissen to the massa will never understand what I’m talkin’ about. Well, maybe one day they will.

I speck I needs to be git to gittin’ back out in the field now. Lemme take one more swig from this RC Cola. Man, I tell you what. I don’t know who’s havin’ more fun, the massa or me. But one thing I can tell you, when they screw me into the ground when I croak, just make sure y’all remember one thang. I never told y’all nothin’ that wudn’t true. And anyway, who really cares. All I did was just raise hell. It ain’t like nobody is gonna give a damn anyway. But it shonuff does feel right, and that’s the scary part.

-TPN