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This is a draft you idiots

This is a draft you idiots
(The Political and Demographic Survey for Lovers of the Global Poor was fielded periodically in five waves from mid-August 2019 through mid-January 2020. It was made possible with a generous grant from the Open Society Foundations, a philanthropic venture founded by George Soros.)
This unscientific survey and its modest samples are by no means a definitive account of this community's attitudes or demography, and I've identified at least a few methodological shortcomings. Two of them — namely, the limited answer selection for favorability questions and the wording of one option in the religious affiliation query — are described below.
More significantly, however, my decision to prioritize insights about the demographic makeup of this subreddit (wherein I limited each respondent to one wave to prevent duplicates) necessarily came at the expense of revelations about its political opinions. As a result, it is impossible to exclude the possibility that apparent trends between one wave and the next are not due at least in part to a response pool whose politics are systematically different from previous ones.
But with the above caveats laid out, I present to you — at long last — the topline findings and corresponding analyses from my personal contribution to the Neoliberal Project!
💎 Joe Biden 💎 🥀 Bernie Sanders 🥀 👵🏼 Elizabeth Warren 👵🏼 👮🏾‍♀️ Kamala Harris 👮🏾‍♀️ 🏳️‍🌈 Pete Buttigieg 🏳️‍🌈 🍦 Michael Bloomberg 🍦 📒 Amy Klobuchar 📒 🧮 Andrew Yang 🧮 🛹 Beto O'Rourke 🛹 📖 Cory Booker 📖 💪 John Delaney 💪
🍊 Donald Trump 🤴 👩‍⚖️ Nancy Pelosi 👩‍⚖️ 🌹 Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez 🌹
🐎 Democratic Party 🐎 🐘 Republican Party 🐘 🌿 Libertarianism 🌿

Wave 1 (N=222 | August 11–13, 2019)
🏳️‍🌈 (36.9%) earns a large plurality, with 🛹 (19.8%) taking second place. 💎 (10.8%) and 💪 (9.0%) follow up in third and fourth, while the fiercely progressive 👵🏼 (5.9%) earns a fair share as well. The remaining candidates combine for 15 percent of the first-preference vote, with no individual candidate reaching 4 points.
Opinions of 🏳️‍🌈 (91.6) soar sky-high, with nearly 9 in 10 expressing a favorable view. In a not-so-close second is 👩‍⚖️ (84.2) for whom close to 8 in 10 have a positive opinion. 💎 (80.9) is the second-placed Democratic candidate, with nearly 3 in 4 offering a positive view, with nobody else even remotely close.
👵🏼 (46.1) finds herself slightly underwater, with a –7.7% net rating, and 👮🏾‍♀️ (43.2) is close behind. Of the five highest-polling candidates at the time of the survey, 🥀 (12.1) finds himself in an ignominious last, with just under a mere 1 in 10 giving a favorable view.
However, nobody on the left side of the aisle can come close to 🍊🤴 (1.4), who lands just a hair above being universally despised.
Subject Favorable Neither Unfavorable Index²
🏳️‍🌈 88.7 5.9 5.4 91.6
👩‍⚖️ 78.4 11.7 9.9 84.2
🐎 76.1 13.5 10.4 82.8
💎 73.0 15.8 11.3 80.9
👵 36.9 18.5 44.6 46.1
👮🏾‍♀️ 30.6 25.2 44.1 43.2
🌿 27.4 18.0 54.5 36.4
🌹 21.6 18.0 60.4 30.6
🥀 9.0 6.3 84.7 12.1
🐘 1.8 5.9 92.3 4.7
🍊🤴 0.5 1.8 97.7 1.4

Wave 2 (N=140 | October 11–15, 2019)
🏳️‍🌈 (38.6%) once again lands on top, more than tripling niche-favorite 💪's (12.1%) share, who is in a tight cluster for runner-up with 🛹 (11.4%) — who suffered a steep decline — 💎 (11.4%), and 👵🏼 (10.7%), who nearly doubled her vote. The rest take a little under 1/7th of the vote, with nobody breaking 4 percent.
🏳️‍🌈 (92.8) hurdles the 9 in 10 threshold for favorability. 👩‍⚖️ (89.6) sees her already stellar standing improve substantially, while 💎 (83.1) trades places with his party.
👵🏼 (55.4) surges into positive territory, while 👮🏾‍♀️ (33.9) takes a big hit. 🥀 (14.9) is once again dead last.
Subject Favorable Neither Unfavorable Index²
🏳️‍🌈 90.7 4.3 5.0 92.8
👩‍⚖️ 85.0 9.3 5.7 89.6
💎 77.1 12.1 10.7 83.1
🐎 77.4 9.3 13.6 82.0
👵🏼 48.6 13.6 37.9 55.4
🌿 27.1 25.0 47.9 39.6
👮🏾‍♀️ 24.3 19.3 56.4 33.9
🌹 17.1 17.1 65.7 25.6
🥀 11.4 7.1 81.4 14.9
🐘 3.6 5.0 91.4 6.1
🍊🤴 0.7 2.9 96.4 2.1

Wave 3 (N=165 | November 11–14, 2019)
Pulling a clear majority of the vote, 🏳️‍🌈 (54.5%) obliterates the field. 💎 (18.8%) substantially increases his share, while 👵🏼 (5.5%) has her percentage halved and 💪 (4.2%) cut by a brutal two-thirds. The remaining candidates take 14 percent, with no individual candidate surpassing the 4-point threshold.
🏳️‍🌈 (93.9) inches still closer to the mathematical limit, as 👩‍⚖️ (84.2) recedes and 💎 (83.0) replicates his previous robust showing.
👵🏼 (38.5) nosedives, and 👮🏾‍♀️ (38.1) recoups some of her losses. 🥀 (12.1) returns to his abysmal rating in the first wave.
🍊🤴 (2.7) climbs further, doubling his Wave 1 standing in an impressive show of newfound popularity.
Subject Favorable Neither Unfavorable Index²
🏳️‍🌈 92.1 3.6 4.2 93.9
👩‍⚖️ 78.2 12.1 9.7 84.2
💎 76.4 13.3 10.3 83.0
🐎 72.7 12.7 14.5 79.0
👵🏼 28.5 20.0 51.5 38.5
👮🏾‍♀️ 24.2 27.9 47.9 38.1
🌿 28.5 15.2 56.4 36.1
🌹 12.7 17.6 69.7 21.5
🥀 9.1 6.1 84.8 12.1
🐘 1.8 5.5 92.7 4.5
🍊🤴 2.4 0.6 97.0 2.7

Wave 4 (N=150 | December 23–26, 2019)
🏳️‍🌈 (54.0%) repeats his dominating performance, while 💎 (22.0%) earns twice his initial share. A meaningful minority contingent selects the otherwise broadly reviled 🥀 (4.7%), and late-entrant 🍦 (4.7%) matches. 🧮 (4.0%) earns his mention with a number of votes, 👵🏼 (2.7%) loses another half off her support, and 💪 (1.3%) fades into the background.
🏳️‍🌈 (91.3) loses a bit of his still-vibrant luster, and 👩‍⚖️ (91.3) draws right even with him as her skeptics are slashed by no less than half. 💎 (87.6) significantly improves his already excellent numbers.
The now-departed 👮🏾‍♀️ (48.3) surges to near-even favorability, while 👵🏼 (34.0) is further depressed. 🥀 (17.3) rises somewhat from the abyss.
Subject Favorable Neither Unfavorable Index²
🏳️‍🌈 90.0 2.7 7.3 91.3
👩‍⚖️ 88.0 6.7 5.3 91.3
💎 84.0 7.3 8.7 87.6
🐎 73.3 18.0 8.7 79.0
👮🏾‍♀️ 36.0 24.7 49.3 48.3
🌿 29.3 21.3 49.3 36.1
👵🏼 26.0 16.0 58.0 34.0
🌹 13.3 18.7 68.0 22.6
🥀 12.7 9.3 78.0 17.3
🐘 1.3 9.3 89.3 5.9
🍊🤴 0.7 2.7 96.7 2.0

Wave 5 (N=187 | January 12–14, 2020)
🏳️‍🌈 (45.5%) loses his outright majority as 💎 (28.9%) significantly increases his vote share for the fourth consecutive wave. 📒 (4.8%) rises to the top of the second tier, with 📖 (4.3%) just behind.
💎's (91.2) unrelenting rise is mirrored in favorability as he dethrones 🏳️‍🌈 (90.3) for the first place in the metric.
👮🏾‍♀️ (55.8) rides cleanly into positive territory, and 👵🏼 (45.7) sees her image improve substantially, perhaps aided by an ongoing feud with 🥀 (13.8), who falls from his personal high.
🍊🤴 (1.0), for his part, kisses the floor.
Subject Favorable Neither Unfavorable Index²
💎 87.7 7.0 5.3 91.2
🏳️‍🌈 86.6 7.5 5.9 90.3
👩‍⚖️ 84.5 10.2 5.3 89.6
🐎 74.3 15.0 10.7 81.8
👮🏾‍♀️ 42.2 27.3 30.5 55.8
👵🏼 34.2 23.0 42.8 45.7
🌿 26.2 25.1 48.7 38.7
🌹 11.8 20.3 67.9 21.9
🥀 11.2 5.3 83.4 13.8
🐘 3.2 8.6 88.2 7.5
🍊🤴 0.5 1.1 98.4 1.0

Bernie Sanders vs. Donald Trump
The overwhelming majority — 8 in 10 — of neoliberal are willing to hold their noses and vote for 🥀 were he the nominee, but the percentage shrunk by just over 1 percent in every successive wave but one, while the number of defectors reached a high of 8 percent in the fourth before receding somewhat. This is perhaps due to the increasingly bitter nature of the primary.
Candidate Wave 1 Wave 2 Wave 3 Wave 4 Wave 5
🥀 82.0 80.7 80.6 79.3 78.1
Neither 15.8 12.9 13.3 12.7 16.6
🍊🤴 2.3 6.4 6.1 8.0 5.3

A similarly overwhelming 82 percent majority across all five waves oppose allowing businesses to deny service to LGBT+ customers on the basis of their orientation, while just 1 in 8 expressed support.
Policy Wave 1 Wave 2 Wave 3 Wave 4 Wave 5 Total
Yes 12.2 9.3 14.5 15.3 10.2 12.3
Neither 3.6 5.7 8.5 4.0 7.2 5.7
No 84.2 85.0 77.0 80.3 82.9 82.1
By a 7215 margin, neoliberals support changing the individual income tax schedule in the United States to add 40 and 45 percent brackets for respective annual incomes over $1,000,000 and $2,500,000. (The difference between the waves with highest and lowest margins in favor are statistically significant, although the reason behind this is unclear.)
Policy Wave 1 Wave 2 Wave 3 Wave 4 Wave 5 Total
Yes 71.2 73.6 69.7 68.7 75.9 71.9
Neither 14.9 12.9 9.7 14.0 12.8 13.0
No 14.0 13.6 20.6 17.3 11.2 15.2
An incredible 3 in 4 respondents offer support for the politically suicidal stance of no government restrictions on abortion rights, with just 1 in 6 opposed — yet more evidence that neoliberal's moderation applies only to economics and not social and cultural issues, where its orientation is solidly leftist.
Policy Wave 1 Wave 2 Wave 3 Wave 4 Wave 5 Total
All cases 77.9 74.3 72.1 72.7 74.3 74.5
Neither 6.3 10.7 8.5 9.3 11.2 9.0
Less often 15.8 15.0 19.4 18.0 14.4 16.4
On the flipside, significantly raising tax rates on higher corporate income brackets while cutting them for lower ones receives a cool reception: just under 1 in 3 expressed support for the proposed change. Many (1 in 5) were unsure, however, and the percentage of opponents falls short of majority level.
Notably, following an initial dip, approval of the proposition increased significantly from Wave 2 to Wave 5. Again, it is not clear what was behind this shift.
Policy Wave 1 Wave 2 Wave 3 Wave 4 Wave 5
Yes 28.4 27.1 30.9 30.9 39.3
Neither 21.6 19.3 20.0 20.0 18.0
No 50.0 53.6 48.1 49.1 44.7
A narrow 2-point plurality favored outlawing semiautomatic rifles and magazines carrying over 10 rounds over the entire survey period, but this masks the sharp drop in support from the first wave to the second.
There is an explanation that likely accounts for this precipitous change: 🛹's politically risky proposal for a mandatory buyback of AR–15s, as well as perhaps prior preference for sub-favorite 🏳️‍🌈, who was its most vocal opponent.
Policy Wave 1 Wave 2 Wave 3 Wave 4 Wave 5
Yes 51.4 43.6 40.6 41.3 43.3
Neither 13.1 10.7 12.1 13.3 14.4
No 35.6 45.7 47.3 45.3 44.2
No policy proposal saw a greater consensus than the introduction of a public option for Medicare, with an impressive 7 in 8 in support. The unequivocal figure is emblematic of the observation that the disagreement between the center-left and the hard-left is typically over the means — not the end.
Policy Wave 1 Wave 2 Wave 3 Wave 4 Wave 5
Yes 86.5 85.7 87.3 86.0 89.8
Neither 6.3 6.4 6.1 4.7 3.7
No 7.2 7.9 6.7 9.3 6.4

neoliberal is a downright fraternity, with over 9 in 10 respondents identifying themselves as male and just 6 percent as female. The remaining 1 in 40 or so identified beyond the gender binary.
(I did not try to break out transgender males and females specifically, fearing that the small figures might convey more noise than signal.)
An alternate tagline for this community could be "Zoomer Nation," as a 3 in 5 majority are too young to be included in the Census Bureau's calculation of the percentage of Americans with a college degree. The pattern in the remainder of the sample was scarcely any less stark: 1 in 3 were between the ages of 25 and 34. A vanishing 1 percent — 9 respondents — were 45 or older.
Limited to the 40 percent of respondents aged at least 25, this subsample offers yet another indication of how vastly different the userbase of neoliberal is from the general population. With nearly 6 in 7 seniors harboring a bachelor's degree — and 3 in 8 having at taken courses further beyond — the community comprises an elite stock. (As of 2018, 35 percent of Americans in the same age range have graduated college.)
Somewhat over 3 in 4 of the sample identified their ethnic background as white — likely a few Taylor Swifts short of what the community has seemed to envision as a battle against a polar bear in a snowstorm at the 90° parallel.
Considering the proportion of respondents from the United States ⬇️, Asian neoliberals (8.4%) were overrepresented and users of mixed ancestry (7.0%) even more so, while Hispanic (4.5%) and Black (3.2%) members fell far short of their representation in the general population.
neoliberal is a highly secular community, with 2 in 3 stating their irreligiosity, while about 23 percent identified as Christians and 10 percent professed their affiliation with another religion.
(It's worth pointing out that these numbers are meaningfully out of line with a survey conducted of this subreddit two years ago, wherein a full 80 percent selected one of the religiously unaffiliated options and just 5 percent reported identification with another religion. It is possible that the use of "Unaffiliated" instead of "No religion" as the third selection confused certain respondents.)
Perhaps a sign of the generational times, right between 1/5 and 1/4 of respondents identified as a sexual minority. This is far higher than surveys of the public report for the youngest generation, however, so other major factors are certainly at play.
In an attempt to limit the sample to those for which the questionnaire would be most relevant, I discouraged non-Americans from taking the survey, so these figures are not intended to be representative. (A follow-up poll strongly suggests that few heeded the request.)
However, I have included it to contextualize the rest of the data.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
All Graphical Representations
Detailed Responses by Individual (useful for those who would like to do analyses of their own)
¹ I discovered in a poll following up my wave survey that the lack of options for different intensities of positive/negative opinion omitted critical nuance in the data. Relatively speaking, 🏳️‍🌈 suffered most because of this, while 💎 benefitted a fair bit.
² Favorable = 100 | Neither = 50 | Unfavorable = 0
submitted by IncoherentEntity to u/IncoherentEntity [link] [comments]

The Permina Codex

The orator in the night moves like mercury. Doctored negatives of logic fall out of my pocket, dispersed like seeds on the Earth, a bountiful flora of blonde and red on the virgin steppe where I lay my head. The light dances uniformly down a dark alley as we disappear from view. There will be no goodbyes embarking on this humble voyage of introspection. Going ever deeper down a ceaseless well of dissociative thoughts that have been the scourge and harmony of my waking existence, armed with a strong desire to counteract the modern sterilization of language. An aesthetic passage attempting to render a unique lingual palette of poetic timbre overladen with corrugated miscellany and purpose, whose nature is derived from various observations of an ever flowing internal dialogue. A thunderous tome of nervous prolixity and verbose preoccupation that is as mystifying to me to write as I hope it will be for you to read and reflect on. The renaissance of human evolution is now upon us, borne again of necessity. Neo-individualism breaking the vials of fabricated freedom that the masters of the physical world have funneled us into, a new class system based on the rise of disposition to mandatory data capture, a distilled essence of sapient mystery ready to be input into a Deus Ex Machina. Total industrialization of mortality, genetics and materialism. We are blinded by the darkness and must realise that wisdom is subject to the ebbing of time, just like all things. I endeavour to raise the oceanic platform from the bases of old wisdom; to output new form into the current age of complex deception. Throughout the process of writing this text, I have found it has become a useful tool; a meditative hammer that can break the obstacles which have stifled my deeper senses for a long time. These words are the spoils of a battle with a life lived twixt lucid dreams and the long, winding malaise of depression concerning modern replacement of morality, subversion of ethics and unravelling of a recurring existence between the flow of the celestial space and the throes of redemption.
When did I lose my voice?, my eyes and tongue burn with a banal tragedy. Disenfranchised with what little I held dear, I now look outside and do not see humanity, but the value of average human lives decreasing. Social doctrines to which I do not subscribe, but rife amongst the statistics of this throw away generation; built on apathy and restless on the scale of consistent illusory fear. The gaunt lives of good people bearing the confused face of judgmental narcissists who lack the empathy to recognise and act on their own feelings. We are repeatedly damned from every marketable angle while intrusive media tentacles slither in, raping every sense at once with no regard for consequence, factory settings racking up points with each entry under close surveillance and monetising our captivity. The last remains of hope, stuffed high above reach on a shelf alongside economy disposable razors with which eventually will be the only option to try and end our lives abruptly, if we pass the checks. Sobbing into the soiled mattresses in the piles of rubble we once called home. Inevitably the result will be unsuccessful, when despair and helplessness become too great.
We spend our time surviving in a time of consistent scientific advancement and cultural identity crisis, both of which have grown gathered considerable momentum since the cold war, snowballing exponentially through rapid development in many areas but most significantly in the fields of computing and communication. The pace and calculation of human thought has been left in the dust and effectively, we as a species have become reliant on technology to maintain and oversee every area of our lives. I propose the speed at which this change has occurred, combined with the total perpetuity of information being processed, has destabilized vast areas of human consciousness, altering how we store information, how deeply we rest and also the way people's opinions are formed. The amount of information most people have access to now is overwhelming, we can find the documented answers to almost anything we desire, instantly. We do not need to retain so much day to day information in our memories any longer, because we have the ability to dump them all onto a visual medium and save them. This surely has had a significant effect on the way our minds work and over time could possibly alter the core function of the hippocampus and cerebral cortex which I speculate will be the part of us that science will manipulate as the mysteries of the brain are untangled. As the areas linked to short term memory become increasingly redundant, I wonder if the innate functions of these parts of us will be altered in the centuries to come. Perhaps we will even branch off once again into several new genus. The type of seeded data suggested to us, that we receive through the abomination dubbed "social media" is drip fed to us by algorithms created to maximize the effectiveness of corporate agendas, like Chinese water torture, information that I did not choose to witness permeates what is essentially a useful communicative idea ravaged by greed, hitting the tender cerebral nerve, vibrating your skull in a manner that assures reliance. As the platforms entrench themselves into the sphere of social necessity, their existence almost creates a state of detached schizophrenia, whereby part of us has become public and vulnerable, and so we second guess ourselves. As I have been writing this text, it is certainly not beyond the realm of imagination that my words may be stored and screened by anonymous electronic eyes. Electronic ears, eavesdropping on my pains and desires. Electronic noses that can smell and analyse the sweat on the brows of the paranoid. I have witnessed the data consumed by this beast sway the mindsets of whole groups in a matter of minutes. We have been led into a confusing state of palpable distrust and hype, borne from the corrosion of mental solidity. Now we contemplate and redefine what exactly our role and ambition is as individuals, and as a species. We look to the hellions of the financial elite for answers, but are received with an air of hope abandoned, dried bodies in the dust shed the black, coagulated tears of a clear moral path, a resolution. Our usurper leaders who try to placate us with distractions and false promises, then after every uprising lull us back to sleep and continue with their diabolic regime. Slowly they are being unmasked to be nothing but decadent charlatans, we are on the final lap in the course of time's dynasty and instinct has revealed the fishing wire that operates the mythical hand that feeds us, wounded but bleeding out across the Earth in an agony of ages. Is there something we should know? Throughout my entire life it has become apparent that the mainstream media is in league with an intangible web of syndicated mafia affiliates who have been administering a steady dose of crooked truth and lies in equal measure, subtly distorting the perception of time and pumping out a polluted fog of confusion with an emphasis on doom and damnation, to which, of course, their devious partners offer the solutions. A lich enigma that sucks out life from all who attempt to decipher it. What is the purpose of globalization and industry? to what end will progress and knowledge arrive? I for one am turning back to search for the united inherent strength of everything we have ever known from the birth of self awareness.
We are living as the dead in the culmination of histories corruption, eroding in the universal torus, trapped as bacteria between the cilia in the lungs of God, whoever he may be, our skins have split, we are exposed, but regardless, we still gorge on the bitter fruit of the tree of knowledge, meanwhile the forgotten sequoia of life withers in it's fallen Eden. The forces of control manipulating any peace of mind we may have almost as if to coax out the son of man from his heavenly labyrinth. Screaming in the face of God like a child, saying " look what I've done, are you angry yet?" hooked into a spiritual masochism where radicals are caste and washed out in a turbulent sea of diluted opinion. I would love to turn back the clock and urge the dawn to rebuke our mistakes as a species as it rises each day. The hour has come to break the brutal generational curses that now bind us in impenetrable walls of law and division. A consolidation of human sin outwardly manifest in the selfishness of macabre buffoons, perched on the high horses of the apocalypse and wearing the cured skins of angels. Exceeding the supply and demand for innocent eyes plucked from their sockets at birth, weapons of midnight mass production, graphene shells clamped round the hearts of the blind who stumble through this century of faceless technology, tortured and crying out to be human once again. The unseen long term goals of greed are now evidently horrific, driven by maniacal evil until law postpones them further. Invisible portfolios of rapid discovery spun on the looms of corruption by unpaid hands who reshape the earth with every waking moment. Their sabotage of long term stability comes at the greatest premium. In the past we destroyed physical things during wartime, but the psychological barbarities of this age have left us with pricked ears, hearing education crumble into ruins, core moral values thrown into the volcano and evaporated by broadsheet indoctrination. There are deep holes in our trust. How backward we have become to the truth. Joy and love have been replaced with lust and addiction, even the spirits who fly in figure eights have reverence for their origin though they are eternal, and who are we? The mere notion of being delivered into life after death reflects the currently inexplicable shape of things that have preceded us and of the things to come. We enter into uncertain climes with a filtered vision of not only ourselves but others, who live on the curve between the output of dimensions, foraging for cryptographic clues amongst tomes of forbidden science in order to unravel the mystery of life and eradicate the uprising of an unnatural order. Dreaming is the gateway to prophecy, a platform of mental clues to evolution, the affirmation of sentience, as the formative spheres spin in the dark chasm of space, a colossal factory of life which contains the future within us. If we construct our ideas by the pulse of a calm, gentle heart, we can become dexterous in self, forming a strong trinity of kindness. Illustrating the wells of our spirit and focusing on the nature of the water we receive. Look deeply into it and reflect on your abandonment of nature. The photons collide in earshot cancelling out the nothing that existed there before, distorting what I see, an expanded spectral array of colour extending indefinitely and eventually granting peace to every tongue of darkness, silencing wavelengths and visions of Lucifer's manufacture, allowing me to gain perspective against the tide of particles crashing against my optic nerves. A trompe l'oeil effervescence in an ocean of illusion encircling the white cliffs of this ancient, blood soaked island. I am primordial, sitting without worry in a Paleolithic forest, hearing the creatures of the natural order calmly tread down their lines of desire, an aeonic track which somehow led to our formation, that which came before it all, an asexual, amorphous seed, undecided on what form it should take, the lacklustre perfection of galactic intercourse, an accidental ooze of elements and energy, which held sentience within it before it reached critical mass, and all that unbridled freedom constrained into infinite density, until chance or something more certain unlatched the doorway through to the realm of visible light. Cages within cages, such was in my childhood , sat cross legged on a long pile carpet in the east wing of a distinguished orangery of exotic souls. Ornate and opaque , while the sands of time fell but had no effect. The arrow was straight and true, all ran parallel to it, though it existed simultaneously elsewhere. There were those that traversed it backwards, in the same fashion as walking the wrong way up an escalator. Always being dragged back to square one in a quantum uncoupling reaching to the past. The original exit point where virtually, everyone's an individual in an unreal plain of succinct imprisonment.
I find the majority of art in this age interminably dull. In the saturated era of associated popularity, vulnerable, captive audiences, whose simple desires have been instantly gratified since birth have become bed-ridden by mental obesity and do not strive to look. Most just give in and surf the tide of austere post-modern boredom, hailing any fecal colour swabs of post- determined meaning that may increase their own sedentary influence. Expressing a general malaise of shit replicating shit. Style revels in distraction, rotten fruits and bruised egos, elevated to iconic status by whatever addled marvel of sex is currently enthroned on the brief peak of faux acceptance called celebrity. Jaded tourmaline eyes that reflect the cosmos. With utmost poise they penetrate malleable minds ready to impregnate another momentary delusion. Non existent passion congeals on shards of chalk and flint under the surface of a shallow lake, one switches to zero binary ripples on calmer waters. Those who dwell in the deep, wallow in furious attempts of mispronunciation, stumbling over halves and fractions cutting themselves to pieces in resemblance to an act of barbaric ritual incited and encouraged by moronic hordes of clones, no spark ever ignited in them, ashes to ashes. In a slight revision to the old trope, I have found there is a broad smear between lunacy and enlightenment. Though my words are highly entropic with regard to the grand schemata, I sympathise with the guile of liberty and gauge of meaning amongst language, the ability to evoke raw power and rouse the flames of spirit withal. Sadly, now we float through a future that wrapped its jaws around such ideas and digested them, often i feel like a cultural fugitive caught hook, line and sinker in the talons of the powers that be, deafened by the insatiable hunger that growls in the belly of a gaol earth. Beauty and boundaries displace regular cerebral activity, regurgitating all my coarseness and overshadowing this pervasive air of dissatisfaction. Sharp teeth consciously evolving, feral instinct vs higher cognitive function, a schism brewing in the second generation of the new world. Standing upright as we hit rock bottom with nothing left in my heart but the shifting drone of bioluminescence, latent mental functions kick into action whispering to our proteins, the cyclical genetic timer has once again been activated. The critics prowl. Those stinking vultures of uniformity, who banquet and slather over the misery of others, tearing at the rotten ligaments of well known carrion, using crude bias as a tool to pick clean the bones of those they have judged. I am blessed with a body, a container of everything I represent and so are we all. With the energy I receive, I attempt to transcend the burdens of physicality with intent to bring about a personal transformation, self repair creating a streamlined flow of mind allowing for adaption and consciously healing the wounds I incur. In a sublime state I was able to topple the lucidly dark and pale structures that suck the matter from the universe. Desperately trying not to breach the code of my own beliefs, a valve holding back limitless force. Half submerged in an exquisite maelstrom, ruby cascades around my body. No sound but my breath altering the course of echoes of souls that tiptoe steadily on the surface of a lagoon found in the long lost cavities, now closed by the fluidity of earth laid under the canopy of algae, remaining still and unfettered by the pond life or the rays of sun shining through. A crimson torrent slips past the flesh of micro-life. My eyes opened, widened as the water moved like an ancient spirit over me. A shoal of children swam by, singing " In the city of life, we do not forget. Hung from golden boughs, no longer shall we hear sorrow crow" I was cocooned in such an isolated peace. The deepest imaginable peace, one of connection and continuity throughout history. A peace eternal, flashbacks of my consciousness living in a time before time. Then in the warm reefs of the oceans, then wandering on land amongst the stone edifices and sunlight of early civilization, when the portion of the creator within us was much larger than it is today. I am vital and happy, filled with raw life and wonder, an exhalation of gratitude etched into me which upon passing through death, the truth of which lies therein, i would just be thankful to have experienced it, holding it tightly to my chest as a keepsake of what I was before.
Retrospectively I arrived at a disjunction of multiple ideologies realised in a unified theory. A confluence of tachyon evasion, hyphenated between positive and negative amongst a lateral similarity of bonds. Modern day creativity boiled down to just a subversion of pre-existing pyramidal structures, rebranded piggybacking on the intellect of yesterday. Long waves of transient communication uttered to our synapses discretely, impulses sold to our malleable minds as if we thought of them all by ourselves. How did we give up our free will so easily? Engineering literary stem cells in analogue, with rare sense for which i desire recognition, (severed connection) a response to all my anxious days ripping the guts from courteous vipers, followed intently by the black dog who was skinned alive and stuffed into a well of excrement in my early days. Now I hang on the lower rungs of society's relentless ladder, fingers crushed by the boots of the ones above. Unable to achieve any lasting happiness, waking moments of a mortality full of holes perforating it's existence. Dredging the mythos of the aether in attempt to haul up the determined dissociation of collective consciousness to the capstone of Zion. Each brain a node in the hive mind swarming, aggravated by a dark cloud of electromagnetic signals, swirling red, blue, green, semi-visible points minutely irradiating, roughening the edges of smooth ideas. Lost in the fog, then in the long flat cornfield, vague instinctive mourning. Out of nowhere, a surge of love's reconciliation bursts through in a giant beam, one i have seen before, ultimately restoring all that was lost in blindness to all those who really matter in this world, the ones who can break down the walls of darkness around you. With all of my free will, the power of focus and creation is unleashed as I am observed under the panopticon of heaven, sailing on the crest of cheering ancestral crowds. The wind stirs as I pray out loud for a total banishment of evil throughout the land, to bring about the divine ascension of spiritual diplomacy and a redemption of compassion for those who have propagated true love throughout the gauntlet of history. We have tried to forge a future on the broken hearts and promises of yesterdays world. In this hour is the time to turn our eyes to the human necessity of unconditional support for each otherworld, something that should be encouraged and celebrated every day and not reserved for the events of crisis, it is something that cannot be clicked away, or solved with a watered down soup of opinion. I am an appointed investigator, purifier of the modern miasma, a prophet channeling words of peace and transfiguration with which I wish to build a union of heaven and earth, whilst I am still in this clay pot, this body, i will cleanse every atom of force that can be harnessed to cause suffering.
I was guided by a benign figure dressed in a red hooded robe. It led me through a dark hedge maze, I could sense it's kindness and ferocity. In it's right hand it held a lantern. There were other lanterns moving close by and if i peered over the top of the maze i saw children being guided far in the distance. The sky was jet black, almost as though this were taking place inside a box with the lid closed. Although each was being led down a different route, all were being taken toward a long temple of gold, illuminated by firelight where the red hooded figures stood like statues between columns, flickering with flames in their lanterns. Parsing the background noise, existing in the reverb of the birth of the universe. Transferred by the mechanics of matter sung as a lullaby to trapped, troubled and forgotten spirits who mourn and wail, releasing negativity into this realm. Somewhere there exists a positive fountain of creation and i speak peace and love to all negative energies so they may be converted to joy in the name of the holy father, son and spirit, the blessed energy that created us all.
When did my eyes begin to open, the window of perception unlocked, now nurturing what i hold dear in fear of loss, after walking headfirst through a briar of my own foolish creation. Armed with the sword of the word which was handed to me by the son. With authority, I cut to ribbons all enemies of truth that lay before me.
We are all foreigners here, subconscious cosmonauts sent to colonise this once static physical realm of decaying fractal spheres, "the land where time stood still" we descended from a higher dimension of time and light; which has subsequently bled through to this realm in the form of a gateway, a divine injection that was required for the propagation of life, the precursor of all movement. It's measurement is a necessary artifice for us to move freely and survive here. The result of our penetration into this quantum plain of existence. Our bodies are inter-dimensional vessels of energy, higher technology constructed out of atoms, physical binary voxels, that can be altered and controlled in seven dimensional Euclidean space. The dismissal of time as merely a human construct is ill perceived, it is a construct in the same way as any unit of measurement, it is a measurement based on the manoeuvers and positions of the bodies that move through the heavens. Time is what defines life as we move through it. Our own computing technology is a microcosm of God's computer, with the dawn of quantum computing on the horizon, a new era of hybrid life will begin, which will aid the manufacture of genetic alloys, with a goal to further explore the cosmos and achieve invincibility. In our lifetime, we have witnessed the dissolution of faith and religion through all areas of media, which I suspect has been encouraged to gain ground in intensely ethical debates such as the use of stem cells in scientific development. Surely we will enter a new golden age of discovery, but under the terms of the one who proclaims himself to be god, a professor of skullduggery, war and destabilisation, no doubt under an oath of hypocrisy, a knight of the fragmented order; The fat fucking controller. This being said, the puppeteers of the new world have geared everything the average citizen interacts with towards the gratuity of base desires, locking us in sex cells, the youth in its entirety is hopped up on carnality and death, becoming deeply disembodied from the morality of my own youth, where respect meant more than parasitic people glazing over the sound of your heart in a survival of the wealthiest. Floating darkly under a spell, harnessing a leash on everyone they meet until the time is right to suck out all the energy from them to replenish their own in vitro ego. The globalisation of this succubus media puts wary distance between us and the top. It's aim on one hand to equalize the opinions and moralities of the majority and sell life back to us as a no strings attached (NSA)experience "you only live once" so act on your demons, you owe it to yourself, no one else will help you. Get over it, grow up, deal with the pain that engulfs your personal but collective dystopia, everyone has problems. These are the kinds of expressions fed to us as the profitable easy option. Shamelessly, corporations pray on the rationale of the desperate and nurture our gut reactions. Using probability to mould our thought patterns, which ultimately have become increasingly similar over time, due to conditioning. Legion takes hold as mind control is spun as a spiritual blessing. A facade awakening of clairvoyance, that makes every effort to reject radical thinkers from its globular fold, stripping naked the virtual i.d which ticks over of its own accord, making itself known unto the least areas of activity, a public receipt of your mental turmoil. The frustrating thing is that most people are completely apathetic and deny any manipulation is going on, just bending over and accepting it as the scale of the operation bears down on us all, oppressing society like a hulk. The wolf at the door comes knocking on your inbox, It's "all the better to constrain you with". Subtle changes made over the course of your timeline, again the profound effect of conditioning. Something that nobody wants, gradually forced upon us, until it becomes normality. I think it is safe to say that a lot of people are fed up with the inadequacies of a farcical parliamentary system whose members only favour their relationship with those that can win them greater power, but totally fail to meet the complex demands of an educated sector of free thinkers who do not require total transparency to see the burgeoning subtext of our time. The glass is full and we are the overspill. These people will topple the pyramidal hierarchy. An occlusion half in the light, as the sweet procession continues behind the blinds. Intelligence is something that lives in the laboratories of the space age, taking human eyes off the world and installing orbital lenses, the pentagram above us comes in the guise of emerging economic powers that have finally made up time with monopolists. The ones who have been dictating to us under an arc of conflict for decades. I have phased through the turbulence of understanding and created my own peacetime. Even though I am beaten down every day by the knowledge of how ultimately corrupted this world has become. I will bring about the destruction of the corruptors. I hate them beyond words. In all my verbosity, there are no words that could describe my loathing for the evil greed and selfishness which scoffs at any remote benevolence that may occur and has no appreciation for humanity. Despite this, i am resolute and my confidence continues to grow, as does the flame inside me and my spirit man, who radiates out from me, like a tesseract about 50 feet high, made of white light. My wings are beginning to stretch beyond the narrow minded theorems of science, unrefined, the attuned chaos of my thought stream, Jung's pool, the river Styx, the fountain of life, which irrigates and nourishes my physical self whilst trespassing through the vats of laboratory grown abominations and all manner of demi-creation the continuation of veiled greed, now silenced doubt has since been forgotten. Calling upon martyrs and saints, they will rally with me against the face of the evil beast, and we shall overcome it, tethering it down to the bottom of the abyss forever. The correlation of all unlinked thought processes is now becoming clear, thinking with increased clarity and swiftness, gifted with extra sensory perception, a far sighted reconnaissance with my surroundings coming into focus. The delayed exit of a fashionable fatality, the occult etymology of which should be banished and sealed away with subsidiaries of the meaning. Cast off your shackles, ask yourself is this all that there is, the bleeding edge runs across the tracks of exploration. Social engineers employed to maintain peace, shape shifting circuitry multifunctional arrays, concealed aerials. Placed personas, yes, pawn characters are moved about, mystery men from the madhouse given an out from the ghouls underneath. From the guilds that gather in secret at the dead of night. Collecting day to day data from the evil eye.
Woe unto the devils of history, who falsely profiteer from the spilt blood of many, crushing the free will of the individual with all their might, wringing every last penny out with great pleasure in a constant orgasm of greed and gluttony. Well I shall eat drink and be merry far away from these inbred executors, the purity of their bloodlines shall perish and the truth will prevail. I can say this with certainty . This is my life, my society, my world, my existence. I am not a slave to the rhythm of the corporate militia, I dance to my own music, my soul screams out for truth, love and freedom forging ideas out of naught but energy and insight, i indulge in observation, which is my gift. People say I am and unaware of my own actions, and perhaps i do on occasions overlook physical matters. I am probably looking deeper into the finer details as i always do. I have seen things of so much depth and detail, visitors, guides, angels and demons. the fingers of the saints on the blotting paper of neo antiquity. Falsified maps and processes, things are taught as unbreakable fact but a full reversal of corruption will reveal the truth behind an almost impenetrable doorway which can only be kicked open by the divine boot of consciousness. A breakthrough of illogic to return to the fountain of life, restoring the eternal. Have we been witnessing the fulfillment of an ancient orchestrated prophecy between Caesar and pharaoh?, a timed treaty of forbidden knowledge. The manuscripts of all creation locked away in the ark of the covenant, immortal seeds which have endured genesis for aeons, metallic oxygen particles passing on the idiocy of espionage, remote control within the living space, under your skin. Diminishing rights, a tightening grip around the throats of outspoken rebellion, constant obstacles of transaction making it harder to communicate without a device, no more locality, no more physicality, trapping the souls of the dead to turn a profit, synthetically oscillating the wavelengths of mental processes, brain buzzing, vibrating with whole songs formed of buzz words. I have felt the effects, a directed pulse becoming stronger. Maybe I have already been implanted. We are the receivers but we can reverse it. Mail bombing the subconscious with weighty pages of spam effectively acting as a curse of burden and distraction, miniscule alterations to your thinking that switch you from zero to one. The walls have eyes and ears which I rebuke right now to all those in the vicinity of this being read. You shall have a light step, your mind shall be an open pasture, with a seal to protect you from any tampering from outside sources. I siphon all the power contained within the body of malicious spirits away from this place to be purified zutto and forever. Do not mess with my head, do not mess with my genes, let my people go free from this generational experiment, what we consume should be governed locally. This era is still in a limbo state of war and we are all the slaves of war. Interactions between others increasingly becoming like advertisements. Using emoticons as gestures in speech. Some people are fully in the thrall of seeded language a potent mixture of frequency waves, repetition and acceptance. Encouraging pointless activity of no real worth, micro-influencers claimed into the fold of populous media, neither here nor there, baying at the doors of the devils empire, for the beast to throw them a bone to sell. Outright damnation, working even in our leisure time to promote the unnecessary material used to satiate us. We are what we eat, genetically modified to become more subservient. By the addition of pinpointed genes and proteins to our foodstuff, the possibilities are disturbing. Present day discoveries of the brains core processes, memory functions, emotional responses could all be harnessed for unimaginable control. Human mouthpieces, mutations, zombies. The age of the slave is being forged by the ones that call themselves the master race, kicking up the old earth, virgin ecosystems replete, like hairs on my skin, those obstinate birds of blackmail, replacing the omnipresence and fractal nature of the sphere, that avoids tessellation. I lost myself in the environs of sheol, clad in golden armour, i reached out with my message, a scroll to myself, or to anyone who would hear me, hexagonal sapphires skimmed across the fabric of time, self propulsion to a location known and unknown, vibrations of higher and lower frequencies flowing in subspace encouraging all forms of peace and rending the veil of secrecy in two. The wool has been pulled over our eyes, completely blinded from the truth with barriers, limitations, decrease in freedom of movement, obstacles, walls, mirrors, distortions, alterations, book burning, library burning, desecration of holy places, invasion of privacy. The one we are blind to, has all eyes on us, routing all power and knowledge to one, and hiding it from all, which is a wholly futile endeavor. Predicting trajectories, eliminating targets, but unable to hide clues in the path of the new breed of wise men, who completely abhor the corruption of the modern day world calculating on the fly, that which has been infected with this anti-human scourge. I received offers in the aether from the path of Hermes, but knowledge of dealings with his contemporaries, leads me away from whatever force led me to the name. I am aware of the knowledge, but store it as a piece in a much more grandiose puzzle. Possession of receptive materials, dark plans to vanquish the spirit of young blood for the succession of beauty in their precious indigo estuaries, tooth and claw. Perhaps our observations are skewed, our spherical atmosphere here on Earth, is like a protective bubble, which has shielded us from the oppressive void of space, a nothingness almost designed so we could not venture there. Is space a form of fluid? Are we the drops of oil in a vial of water so to speak? The stars and planets, reference points, tantalising glimpses of the higher dimension, which has been drowned in space. black holes attempt to drain it away. Is space the veil that was torn in two, behind which, is the truth? Did life giving atmosphere once pervade this universe, before outer space was added and obscured the true nature of life from us?, like a filter placed over the realm of the angels, something that was designed to hinder us. So we are, for now trapped in a cosmic bubble. Perhaps the "world" once was perceived to be flat as we were on one side of an extra dimensional sphere but now we can only interact with a small segment of that plane, due to the oppression of space. How would we develop on a plane of limitless inhabitable space?
The Angel's arrival was abrupt and slightly abrasive like sandpaper. A plume of bone dust spread out. it landed with a muffled thud on the ancient sanctuary floor. A deep red lantern lit high above me, from where the creature fell, gave me a sense of protection. Feathered skin, it's wings almost metallic, shone with an opalescent refraction of light which audibly ringed around it. Everything was still.
Trying not to meet it's gaze, between glances I took in it's appearance. It's face was like a wooden mask soaked in a strange amber oil the consistency of molasses. Pupils of pure empathetic fire languished in the glimmering dark recesses which were it's eyes; they occasionally lapped against the rim of it's face like waves slowly crashing against a desolate coastline. I stepped forward greet it and to ask it's name, " Excus - - " my hand reached out...
It moved quickly and heavily on it's wings towards an arched stone cavern before I could utter the words, the high pitch noise of light shifted and altered as it moved. It seemed as though the room were saturated in it, and the presence of life was a disturbance. I was in a bubble of perfection, a place opposed to what I was used to, everything seemed backward but the Angel's presence somehow gave me clarity and understanding of my surroundings. Making sense of a new environment was not something I had truly done since the early days after my birth. Had I been born again, retaining the mind of my previous incarnation? Was it the conscious attempt I had made at re-aligning my neural pathways for optimization, back on the XY Branch space station? Whatever had happened, I was still fully self aware, and was able to log and relay cerebral data to some form of node, albeit a slightly turbulent experience causing me some nausea. The interference readings suggested I was in a location close to the beginning of time, or the 'edge' of the universe, decelerating rapidly
Removed all impurities from planet so it is perfectly spherical like Zen garden. Mother is buried in the earth and attached to child who sits on the surface
A literary cascade of insoluble vocabulary, a festival of blue skull indigestion, antithesis of reason, if the sustenance in your news feed was poisonous would you still consume it, please sir can I have some more room to breathe, space to form my own opinions before you force feed me bite size packets of foul smelling data, excuse me waiter, could I have the menu screen, please wipe that thought from the catalogue pumped applause through the aorta like fluid thicker than water , an unrefined procession performed by the seven mystic daughters, gun drawing law enforcement an order to the baton twirling in the basement, muted sutures neatly round God's supernatural fabrics, two books made one down the text aisles, rest up in the crows nest of the flag ship, a slug of non regional courage to battle through the rest of it, get up from your deck chair, face the demons spawning from the subjugation of inflated powers, clawing out from the forest shrines, salvation before salvation, were the dead subject to hel, until the saviour arrived, European kings deceived by the temptation of the serpent, reigning back the artisan treachery to before the bondage of law. The princess diadem, six feet under hand and foot, a twist of the tongue to keep you in check, until you make your movement unquantified in the off-beat masonic board game, backing the king into a corner until he is fully subjected to your will. Regency, a chequered space immemorial stretching past the zenith of the sky. An unattended trove of palm and lichen for hunters. Memoires recovered from the brink of eradication in the foundations of the aqueduct, those longstanding heralds I have seen many times, the unearthing of places I visited to talk to the spirits, it is almost like I am moving in all of time, an immersion between mind and space that enables the full facilities of omnipresence, low cost, light and fast space scouts controlled with man at the helm, via a three-sixty degree camera, a perfect application to the future pioneers of virtual reality. Streaming at high resolution, the living water of nature pouring out of me, never a drought in the mind of infra-spectral light. The sense of life diminishes as we perceive ourselves to age. The most vulnerable and intimate human moments that we experience, deeper levels of understanding. Placing ourselves in the origins of history, a glyphic decoration lining the walls of the soul, transcendent flesh by our own selves rather than the artificial hearts pulsing with rhythms. We are no longer top in the food chain, as we are consumed by the dark lords, our individual parts siphoned into our successors.
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Forex Binary Grail Indicator - Non Repaint - YouTube

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