Did one kooky wooky comment on Vigilant Citizen in the middle of a Prince trance. Headphoned up tried to express, apart from anything else, my uncertainty about the after-life, all in a minute, reads – weird. To me.
Here's (going purple), the comment:
Of all websites. He loves this one. Be glad you who make. . . .
Had a Prince gush. But rightly so. Spoken like a trooper, when he did. Perhaps this, his safety-valve concession. Interview little but "when I do". Only took that one interview. He knows. He knew. Clever angel.
All cute and innocent. Bare tiger. In all the heels and hollaring. A statesman for humanity. Could . . .
I Sold My Soul To Rock & Roll & Mind Control Posted by Gordon on Tap
Stuck on the precision of the manipulation. And what symbolic ‘something’ (and uncertainty how/why?). Over and above psychology-shaping through words: To pacify and keep us-trustin’ Govt and co-wise. Has enough-awake going “look . . .
Grasping At Straws (The Illusion of Choice)
Zen Gardner, kicks-off with:
It’s pitiful to watch the US election gyrations in the midst of this calculated societal breakdown. Americans have historically had such guts and strength, while albeit pitiful little is left, as they direct their vestigial frustration in such . . .
Posted by Tapestry How awake are you? you'll find a comment from me but the post itself is my direction here. Although you'll read some disputing from 'Baz' in the comments which, as it happens, I'd somewhat answered here on Darkmoon.
To silence. Tap asks, Is your mind being fed thoughts and images . . .
Judgement, Trump. My theology. That which brings out a reaction, required to wake – us – up. He's an answer to prayer, that most who did, would probably/certainly rather wasn't.
He's different. Pop Stars like Donald, (Billy Brilliant Corgan – aside); stay quiet (acceptable) -or- bat for the enemy (condemnable). . . .
Entrainment. The question has to be asked, why not?
John and partners are making a film, New Breed.
Why would intrusive, manipulative-initiatives, be restrained? Where's the sense, . . .