sexiest woman room

This started as a comment for Penny's blog but quickly sprawled into something too big for there. And too big for here too, ha ha. Still here it is -


Hey Pen,

Just back from six pages of Dave's Moondoggie. First up I gotta say I'm with him in toto. That is, I (and my little dog too!) agree with him that the Apollo missions were bullshit. Humans have never been to the moon and I expect he's right in saying that they never will.

But a couple of his arguments are bullshit and I reckon he'd be better off dropping them. Which is to say, on the subject of shadows, ambient light, and second light sources, he's completely wrong. He declares he knows a lot about photography, but regretfully I'm going to have to trump him with my ten years in 3D. A 3D heavy will understand light to a degree way beyond any photographer. Sorry if that puts any photographers' noses out of joint but it's the cold hard truth.

As an example, I'll ask the question - has anyone got a glass of water with them right now? If you don't, go get one. Now put the glass on the table. Now pick it up. Now put it down. Repeat this a few times and watch the play of light and shadow on the table. In amongst this is refraction, reflection, and shadow. Sure enough, a photographer can play with this: he can have more or less; he can light it from different angles; he can add mood: dramatic, gentle, whatever - and then he shoots it and bills the agency $5000. Lucky him.


What he does not have to do is figure out how to make the light do that thing. The effect as such, is pretty much done for him. In 3D nothing is done for you. If I want those pretty 'caustics' in my glass of water scene, I have to make them myself. Subsequently it is the lot of the 3D operator to spend a great deal of time contemplating the nature of light and how it is passed from object to object. If I don't tell the assorted objects within my scene how I want them to do this, then they ain't gunna - it's as simple as that. There is no default 'just-do-whatever-nature-does' setting. Instead there is 'incandescence', 'diffuse', 'specular roll-off', 'eccentricity', and an endless array of jargonistic concepts that are the lot of someone who has to define the laws of physics for every single shot.

Hmm... it's like re-inventing the wheel every time, except we also have to re-invent the earth, and then explain to both the earth and wheel the existence of the other, and how they should view that. Welcome to 3D.

---

Now - the behaviour of light: Dave declares that light can only reflect back to where it came from. Oh dear - wrong answer. It is the nature of light that when it hits an object (regardless of what direction it comes from) the light then bounces in all directions. If it didn't we wouldn't see anything. If you see a thing it's because the light that has struck it (from the sun, say) has bounced into your eye. Whilst the light from the sun is effectively parallel, it does not likewise reflect in a single direction, ie. into your eye and your eye alone. It bounces in an infinite number of directions, and thus into everyone's eye. That's why 50,000 people can sit in a cricket ground and regardless of whether the sun is behind them, or in front of them, or wherever, they can all see the action in the middle of the field.


Clearly this reflected light does not go into our eye as some kind of go-nowhere-else one-way trip. Light is a 'lady of easy virtue' that will bounce around and around. Thus the people in the cheap seats on the hill who are in direct sunlight can still see the lah-di-dah sorts in the member's stand who are in shadow. They are lit by ambient light - the light that has bounced into them from the ground, the other stands, and yes, the atmosphere in the sky.

Now, before anyone pipes up with how the moon doesn't have any atmosphere, let me cut you off and say you've grasped the wrong end of the stick. Whilst atmosphere, or more precisely clouds, can produce soft, multidirectional light, in no way is this the be-all-and-end-all of ambient light. A photographer who knows the difference between the hard light that strikes a person on a sunny day and the soft ambient light that strikes them on a cloudy day, and thinks that 'cloud equals ambient' needs to think again. Ambient light is merely light that comes from all directions instead of one. Clouds make this happen, sure, but so do lots of things. When clouds intercede between the sun and the object being lit, the light passes through the clouds and loses its hard parallel nature. The clouds are now the light source and the light it puts out bounces around in every goddamn direction and is thus reduced, diffuse, and 'ambient'.


But the fact is, we don't need clouds to do this. Let's go into deep space, way beyond the moon, way beyond anything. It's just me and my camera and a white volleyball (um, which I've filled with black sticky rice and egg custard to, a) stop it exploding with differential pressure, and b) give me a delish last meal before I die of the radiation). Anyway, under Dave's photographer-logic of atmosphere-equals-ambient, the ball will be dazzling on the side lit by the sun and in perfect darkness on the side not lit. Or it would be if I wasn't floating next to it. Bugger! It seems like the light bounces off me and acts as a 'fill'. Sure enough, my white space-suit acts as a variety of mirror that reflects light back at the volleyball. In precisely the same way that light strikes the ball and bounces in all directions (one of which is into my eye), the light will also strike me and my white space-suit, and bounce in all directions (one of which is into the volleyball). The Dark Side of the Volleyball will be lit, and atmosphere ain't got nothin' to do with it. (Nor Pink Floyd, ha ha).

I will reflect light into the ball and the ball will reflect light into me. This would be vaguely directional sure, rather than truly ambient, but... if we had enough astronauts and enough volleyballs, and all floating in the middle of nowhere like some mad, drug-fuelled outer space sticky rice and egg custard wig-out... deep breath... in the centre of that would be true ambient light bounced in from all directions. And all without atmosphere.


And so! There we are on the moon, and we're shooting the other astronaut who happens to be standing in complete shadow. Beyond him in the background we can see the surface of the moon. Which is to say, direct light is striking it and bouncing in every direction, one of which is into our eye. If we see it, it must be so. Okay, and since it's bouncing in every direction it must bounce at him also. And of course, from him this weakened light must likewise bounce in all directions, one of which will be into our eye. It cannot be any other way. And yes, there is no atmosphere but it doesn't make any difference. Light does not need atmosphere to bounce around and behave in an ambient fashion.

With the surface of the moon acting as an ambient light generator, a matt black object will bounce (reflect, same-same) very little ambient light back at us, but a white object will reflect quite a lot. And of course a fully reflective metallic foil object will bounce nearly all of it back at us. And sure enough, it's all right there in the photo just as it should be. And whether we're on the moon, in the studio, whatever, it doesn't make any difference. The ambience is no proof of anything one way or t'other.

---

And then there's the shadows, particularly those in the photo of the two landing pads on the 'lunar' surface. I'll happily concede that it isn't the lunar surface, and is in all likelihood cement dust sprinkled on the floor of the Lookout Mountain Studio in Laurel Canyon. But what I will absolutely not concede is that there are two light sources in this picture. Believe it or not, there is only a single light source and all the shadows accord with it. As head of 3D my job was precisely to look for errors of this nature and this picture hasn't got any. The foreground grey stick is square to us and about twenty degrees from the ground. The background leg is not quite square to us and maybe 75 degrees to the ground. Their shadows, along with those of the bumps in the extreme foreground are exactly right for a single light source, camera-right, and elevated at approximately 45 degrees.


I swear to God - professional reputation, the whole thing - this photo is halal. Without a shadow of a doubt (ha ha), I could build this scene in 3D and prove it utterly. It'd be the big don't-argue from hell. But to be honest, I couldn't be fagged. And besides what would I be proving? That the guys who faked these photos were smart enough to do the sensible and obvious thing and use a single light source? Shake my head - what a waste of time...

Besides that, if there were two light sources, we'd see one of two things: a) some of the objects would be lit from two directions and cast two shadows; or b) with the foreground objects and the background objects having each their own separate hard lighting, between them in the mid-ground there would be either a double lit area or a band of shadow - pick one. Blending two lights in this fashion is murderously difficult. I've tried to do it and it's a fool's errand. No one would waste their time.

And besides, take a look at this shot - what's the fucking point? Two landing pads occupying a small area of ground? Big deal. It's hardly a hero shot, and it could easily be lit by one light source, and so... why wouldn't you? Why bother with two lights? Sure enough, it is lit by a single light source. Me, I haven't got any kids but I'd be perfectly happy to swear on the lives of someone else's. Or is that too ghoulish? Hell, just take my word for it.

Oh! I tell you what - if anyone feels really confident on this shadow caper, like really, really confident, like 50oz of gold confident (all the money I have in the world), and wants to put their money where their mouth is, I'll take that bet! I'll dig up my 3D Maya license, clock up a day's labour, and Baby, I'm a Rich Man, Yeah!

---

Mind you, I wouldn't feel good about taking that money. I'm not that cruel and besides, in the big discussion I agree with Dave. Previously I'd never had much time for the Apollo Hoax crowd and that was mostly due to the chronic nature of the wrong-shadow/ambient-light argument. Happily Dave attacked the whole Apollo question in his usual brilliant holistic fashion and I'm now on board. But as I progressed through his moondoggie piece, the head of steam that had built up (of the 'Go Dave Go!' variety) all came to a grinding halt once the dreary specifics of the lighting kicked in. Bugger! We were rocking and rolling and now it's all fallen flat!

Dave! Ditch those two photes mate! They ain't doing you any favours!

Those whacky Scandinavians! What a laugh - Barak Obama as winner of the Nobel Peace Prize! Ha ha ha ha, champagne comedy! Actually knowing what I know of those Nordic midnight sunbathers as being the hardest drinkers on the planet, perhaps we'll call it 'vodka comedy'. That works doesn't it? Absolut-ly. And it's not as if you can blame them - what with the sun disappearing for months on end, and nothing for it but to go mad or get drunk, they not unreasonably choose the latter. And with drunks, all you can ever hope for is that they be funny drunks. Well, those Nobel guys crack me up. Skol!


Obama, Obama, Obama - what are we to make of this cove? He's a weird cat and no mistake. Whilst it's slowly wearing off now, the greatest part of the voter's image of him was less about who he was, than who he wasn't. Clearly he wasn't George Bush. Or to put it another way, he wasn't a smirking snuff-movie aficionado, and obvious with it. He also wasn't a Southern good ol' boy, and nor was he an uneducated git who could barely string two sentences together. Unlike the ex-cokehead Bush, Obama can deliver his platitudes unmangled - which really helps, because platitudes are a tough gig at the best of times.

And then there's the fact that Bush is American royalty, which is to say he comes from a long line of criminals, war-profiteers, spooks, and paedophiles. He is connected up the wazoo, ha ha ha. Obama on the other hand, ain't. He has no connections, he hasn't got the goods on anyone, he has no one's balls in his pocket, no one owes him, and to put it bluntly, he has no power base. Okay so how did he get to be president? Seriously? Well, he got to be president because other truly powerful people decided he was a sock puppet whose time had come. And as we all know, the best damn sock puppets are mind-control sock-puppets.


Was Bush a mind-control drone? He was royalty sure, but somehow I wonder if that would mean a lot amongst the satanist/mind-control/paedophocracy crowd. These people will sacrifice their own children you know. They're so hell bent and vicious they don't really require a child to be red-headed, or a stepchild, to treat them that way. And yep, their own kids included.

From what I've read of the mind-control world, there were those who were complete slaves and there were those who were complete masters. And then there's the idiot son. Was he slave or master? Frankly I can see a case for both. He was certainly cruel enough: I'm thinking he'd have made a great torturer. And given that every other president from Kennedy onwards was on the receiving end of 'presidential models', a la Brice Taylor (Susan Ford), I doubt that Dubya was any different.

But he was different. Did we ever see another president do this? Or this? Am I the only person who wanted to rap on his skull and ask if anyone's home? Somehow I suspect that people tinkered with the idiot son's brain, and not particularly successfully either. Not that you can blame them with his ten years spent wandering in a cocaine wilderness and his brain fried to a walnut.


What if I said the idiot son was a sort of 'hybrid model' filling in until a truly superior class of mind control slave was arrived at? Given the reality of mind-control, and given the ambition of those behind it, I figure it's just a matter of time until every president, indeed every world leader, is a mind-control zero who does whatever the fuck they're told.

And really well, of course. They'll be brilliant! They'll be as handsome as Butch and Sundance rolled into one. They'll have the wit of Noel Coward, the everyman appeal of Bruce Willis, and the gravitas of Dr Kildare. They'll play the guitar like Segovia, sing like Caruso, and dance like Gene Kelly. They will be gods of love that women will all desire and men will all turn gay for. They will be bigger than Jesus Christ.

And they'll do...
whatever...
the fuck...
they're told.


Okay, so Obama ain't quite that shining all-things-to-all-men, but he's a pretty fair approximation of it. And I haven't the least doubt that he fulfils that last little prosaic quatrain. Honestly, is there anything the owners of Israel want that he won't give to them? I can't think of anything. So far he's bombed Pakistan I forget how many times, and last time I checked that was considered the 'supreme war crime'. Sure enough everything underneath that - letting the AIPAC trial die unmourned, rolling over on Israel's illegal settlements, and otherwise handing trillions to the bankers and bankrupting the US - qualifies as nothing special. Otherwise what will he stick up for? Gays in the military! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha... oh man... between the drunken Swedes and the death cult, it's harder to know who's funnier.

Between the impossibility of Obama as a no power-base, come-from-nowhere wunderkind (who in his brief climb to power somehow became completely corrupted), and the inevitability of someone just like him as a mind-control drone, I figure the latter makes waaay more sense. And rather than laboriously go through everything he's ever done looking for examples of him as mind-controllee, why not just do the Dutch Auction thing and ask, When has he ever departed from the Rothschild line? (And citing the settlements shadow-play is not permitted - pretending to stand up to Israel has been going on since Truman). And so! Under the timeless rubric of 'if you've got the game you may as well have the name' I'm going to call him.


And here's a question: Does Obama know? And further: If he's a zombie, wouldn't his wife be too? And then there's the kids...

What's a bloke to do? Here I am with a desktop overflowing with unfinished pieces - 'World Death Organisation', 'Satanism and the Self', 'Bonuses for the Most Expensive Fuckwits in History', 'The Daily Global Fear and Desire Index' etc. etc. - and all of them knocked back.


I knocked them back because... who gives a shit? Or to put it another way, we're at the town meeting, called because a thirty metre tsunami is due in an hour, and a voice pipes up asking what the council's going to do about the cracks in the footpath that the tremor caused. And the guy's got a point: the cracks are so bad that you could fall and break your hip. But in the face of the tsunami... who gives a shit?

Actually that's just our little world. Truth is, back in the real world everyone is rolling their eyes, catcalling, and otherwise laughing their heads off. Broken footpaths, the collapsed bus shelter, and what-about-the-insurance, is all they want to talk about - and who is this dickhead blathering about a tsunami? What tsunami? Doesn't he watch the news that guy? Sheesh! If there was a tsunami, they'd tell us. The worst is over - they said so on the news!


Yeah well, we'll leave them to it. We're having a whole other conversation, and there, between 30m waves; and bits and pieces of broken infrastructure, one of them is a topic worth discussing and the other is a mere series of clues pointing to it. Can you dig it?

---

Still, a little nagging voice says that maybe it won't be so. What with the death cult following the Fabian creed of gradualism, perhaps there won't be a tsunami at all - just more run-of-the-mill rollers wearing away, wearing away. Dig it - it's the condemned man keeping his fingers crossed that he won't go before the firing squad and will instead be sentenced to hard sodomy for the term of his natural life. "Oh thank God, it's only daily rape." Whew!

But really, as if the death cult would be so rigidly doctrinaire. If gradualism suits, they'll use it. And if a world war is what's required, then dandy, cue the fire bombing. Or whatever! - they're nothing if not versatile. As if the people who control our education, media, and government are going to leave any bases uncovered or otherwise resile from anything because, well, "That's just going too far..." Besides, there's just too much now and it's there for anyone with an ounce of curiosity to see.


Just to be precise, I figure we're in for an unholy trinity - Economic Collapse: 426 trillion imaginary dollars. Never mind the 'recovery' - is everyone familiar with a 'head and shoulders' curve? Okay, so we're at the shoulder and now comes the long drop, all the way down. Cue the, um... 'Great Recession' is it? Ha ha ha. I guess that's like a Great Depression but with more hype. And more deaths - six million in the US alone last time around. Global Pandemic: A fake virus treated with a vaccine that's no such thing. Will this be the greatest act of mass murder in history? Sure, why not? The CFR/Bilderberger mob has already declared that five billion dead would be just dandy. World War: Iraq, Afghanistan, even the coming smashing of Iran - all sideshows. The big game? Russia v Nato. And are Ladbrokes offering odds on Israel nuking someone? If evens is the best you can get, it'd be worth laying a hundred bucks on.

Any one of these would qualify as an event of unparalleled wickedness. And we're going to get three! Yay - fans of history, rejoice! And sure enough we, who ordinarily prefer history at a bit of a remove, ask the question - What's to be done?

---

Well, we must oppose it! Fight Fight Fight! Well... there will be fighting and no mistake. We'll meet the enemy and he'll be us - the streets will run with blood and the death cult (looking down from their corporate boxes) will roar with laughter. Who said there's East and there's West and never the twain shall meet? He didn't own an Armalite obviously. East/West - North/South - Muslim/Christian - white/coloured - rich/poor - military/civilian - It's time to do the us-and-them cha-cha, and all to a rat-a-tat beat. Buddha was bullshit and his so-called "middle way" nothing more than an excuse for Hegelians to smash two opposites together. Bring on the Revolution! And cue the impossible voice-over guy - "This revolution has been proudly brought to you by International Banking."


If people want to pile in on that, good luck to them. I'm sure the death cult won't have seen them coming. Meanwhile where I live, in this cardboard cut-out town, in a cardboard cut-out state, in a cardboard cut-out country - with Rupert Murdoch in charge of the paper, scissors, and Perkin's paste - ain't nothin' gonna happen. Between the bang and the whimper (with no third option), it'll be "A whimper for me please. And how much is that? Ten trillion dollars? Um... okay, just one then, and not so big thanks." What nice manners we have, even for our rapists.

---

"Hey nobody, what's that in the title, about Les and Pascal having a bet or something?" Oh yes, I do thank that imagined fellow for reminding me. It seems that in setting the mood in the first couple of paras, I've done my usual trick and written a thousand words already. But rather than quit and come back, I'll just plough on.


I have Les pegged as today's Hunter S. All he lacks is an editor to sort out his possessives, contractions, and plurals, ha ha. Sorry Les! (He also lacks Thompson's uncannily accurate descriptions of the paedophocracy, which until Jeff Wells laid them out, I'd always taken as a variety of metaphor. Those stories about Thompson? Well, if Operation Mockingbird and Laurel Canyon got funky together, and the result was a natural child, what would that offspring look like?)

The above is not me dropping any dark hints about Les. I have as good an ear for falsity as anyone, and I've yet to hear Les strike a false note. There are real people in this world and Les is one of them. Or to put it another way - I wouldn't bother discussing Les if I thought he was bullshit, or insubstantial, or any other epithet. I come here not to bury Les, but to praise him (backhanded, of course...)

---

That being said, let's carry on - the point of the exercise here is merely a continuation of me turning Les' discussions of the coming tsunami in deus ex machina terms around in my head and wondering at them from different angles. And that's when Renaissance man, Blaise Pascal, stuck his tuppence in. Primarily Pascal was a mathematician who, amongst other things, built one of the world's first calculating machines, invented the science of hydraulics (and the syringe specifically), and was otherwise the founder of the modern theory of probability.


As if that wasn't enough, he was also a religious philosopher who spent the whole latter half of his life cloistered in the Jansenist convent of Port Royal. Cloistered or no, he never forgot the libertine friends he'd made during his 'worldly period', and with them in mind (and as you might expect from a mathematical expert in probabilities) Pascal sought to appeal to their scepticism by way of a simple bet with what's now known as Pascal's Wager. Here's Encyclopaedia Brittanica -

Pascal assumed, in disagreement with Thomas Aquinas but in agreement with much modern thinking, that divine existence can neither be proved nor disproved; and he reasoned that if one decides to believe in God and to act on this basis, one gains eternal life if right but loses little if wrong, whereas if one decides not to believe, one gains little if right but may lose eternal life if wrong. In these circumstances, he concluded, the rational course is to believe.

It's hard to believe I know, but I'm not the only fellow who turns things around and comes at them from different angles. Brittanica again -

The argument has been criticized theologically for presupposing an unacceptable image of God as rewarding such calculating worship and also on the philosophical ground that it is too permissive in that it could justify belief in the claims, however fantastic, of any person or group who threatened nonbelievers with damnation or other dangerous consequences.

Good point. But you've got to love this - "...it could justify belief in the claims, however fantastic, of any person or group who threatened nonbelievers with damnation or other dangerous consequences." Ha ha ha, that sounds like every religion ever invented doesn't it? It certainly sounds like the Christian church.


Unsurprisingly, with Pascal effectively an adherent of a Jewish sect (er... that would be Christianity), the whole discussion is one of what's-in-it-for-me, driven by the twin carrot-and-stick prospects of the fear of damnation versus the promise of a glorious eternity. And me, I have to ask the question: What sort of insecure God is this?

If a fellow was an incarnation of Francis of Assisi (say), leading a life of perfect virtue devoted to the well-being of all living things, would Pascal's God get angry with him if he didn't know who He was? Absolutely! The Christian God (besides being a slavish adherent to the old bullshit maxim of 'ignorance of the law is no excuse') is a jealous one who visits the iniquity of the father upon his children to the fourth generation merely for failing to acknowledge him. Jesus Christ! As if a God who's every kind of 'omni' wouldn't be above such petty concerns? Where's the serenity?


Bugger it. Why don't we turn Pascal's wager on its head - and plug it into Les' deus ex machina while we're at it? And so: given that Les' manifestations of supernature are not insecure and do not demand we tip our hat every time we sneeze; given that a shit-storm tsunami to end all shit-storm tsunamis is definitely coming, and if anything was ever going to warrant a deus ex machina response, this is it; given the rightness of Epictetus' discussions of 'what is in our power' (thanx Kikx), with stopping a tsunami not being one of them; and not forgetting yours truly being a Buddhist of his own description, attempting to embody the right end of the continuum (at the top of the page), we arrive at the following 'thus' -

Supernature or no, if one sheds fear and desire, and acts with reverence for all things as if they were possessed of supernature, if right, one gains all that might be hoped for, but loses little if wrong, whereas if one embraces fear and desire, and effectively reveres the self, if right, one gains little beyond the ephemeral, but if wrong... "Hey, the ocean's just gone out. Let's go down and look."

Not that she gives a shit, but I've been a devotee of the goddess of idleness, Aergia, for many years now. Was there ever a goddess more demanding? Kali perhaps, ha ha ha. Aergia of course is the un-Kali. The only death Aergia ever demanded was that of one's sense of duty (to any but herself, that is). The inscription over the door of her temple reads 'Abandon all ambition, Ye who enter here.' Not that that ever deterred those whose heads echoed with her siren song. Here lay a refuge from that world of care, stress, and anxiety.

Genocidal man-made pandemics? Contrived global economic collapse? World War and a fascistic one-world government? Ha! Nothing more than shifting transient patterns in the golden brown smoke of the temple incense. I lie back and with red-rimmed eyes observe the hypnotic sinuous shapes as they lead me down assorted trails, and all of them to somewhere balmy and untroubled.


Geez, is that enough of that? "Stop the metaphor, I want to get off!" Okay, I admit it - I'm actually talking about marijuana. God, the marvellous times I've had smoking grass and the brilliant people I've met - I wouldn't swap it for anything. But. For every reason I might offer as to why dope is good, the obvious falsity of the argument becomes ever clearer the longer one persists: all drugs obey the law of diminishing returns.

Biochemical inevitabilities are one thing and Les Visible is another, ha ha. I have no idea what percentage of the people who visit here read Les as well. There was a time when my entire readership (all ten of 'em, ha ha) was actually Les', lured sideways from his temporal blog, Smoking Mirrors (where I spent all my time hanging out). For those who don't read him, you should - he's a hell of a writer. However, somewhere along the line I found myself being more and more taken with his spiritual blog, Visible Origami. I don't know if this is a personal irony but it's at the origami blog that Les holds up a mirror in which my hypocrisies are cast in stark relief.


In the origami mirror I see a fellow extolling the virtues of selflessness in one breath, and... dragging on a scoob with the next, ha ha. Cue the descent into self-indulgence! Never mind me cleverly dispensing with everything in the Reckitt-Benckiser/Colgate-Palmolive aisle of the supermarket: for every dollar I didn't spend there, I'd spend two in the Cadbury's chocolate and Arnott's biscuit aisle. Pathetic.

I'll concede that that's not so very dreadful really - penny-ante stuff - but that's not the point. Les' words of advice over at Origami are not those of an allopathic doctor discussing a minor symptom in isolation. Les' ain't that guy. His view is holistic and addresses what ails us in the widest terms imaginable. And I'm so there!

Ha ha ha ha... fucking hypocrite! I'm not there at all, nor anywhere close.

Truth is, I'm a fucking mess - cigarettes, coffee, and grass rule my life. Without I shed these, I'm going nowhere. Whatever I want to achieve, or to become, all is subordinated to the fact that I have to have a cigarette every forty minutes or so. Subsequently, there's nothing for it but to bid them farewell and the one which must go first is also the easiest - marijuana. And what with Aergia being such a sexy goddess I thought the least she deserved was a big send-off. Frankly a quarter of an ounce of the sacrificial incense would have sufficed but as it turned out I ended up with an entire ounce of organic North Coast hippy buds. Ayah! I've encountered a few heroic dope smokers in my time and after this brook-no-resistance effort, I declare myself one of them, ha ha. (BTW - Did anyone suss me out? The six pieces preceding the last one were all written stoned. It was obvious if you think about it).

Me and the goddess aside, here we are, each of us on our own journey. And we know full well that this trip ain't going to be any kind of business-class as usual - no comfy seats, no free glass of champagne, no forty kilos of luggage. Never mind economy, in case you missed it, we never got on the plane! We remain the ant-like nobodies ten clicks below, doing the whole thing on foot. And down here, it's travel light or forget about it.


And me? I haven't even started, ha ha. Hell, I'm still ditching suitcases! God knows how many I've tossed so far. But I'm getting somewhere and I've only a few left to go. And then, whatever's coming, I'll be as prepared as I can be.

Not forgetting of course that this runs in both directions. There's us and where we wish to go, and there's the death cult with their own fucked up thoughts on the matter. In terms of the relationship between these two things, Les gets it, and the people in his comment section rudely demanding some kind of battle plan, don't. Anyone expecting some variety of Iwo Jima flag-raising over a pile of Savile Row clad corpses is going to be disappointed. Not forgetting the falsity of the original event anyway...


Hold that image of victory in your head if you want to, but you'll merely be that monkey who won't let go of the banana in the trap. T'ain't nothin' can be done for that monkey without he lets go. Okay, so time to let go.

Seeya Aergia, it was fun while it lasted mate.

So i saw a doctor today and i'm not so sure how it went. I basically spilled my guts and didn't hold back from anything, except from flat out saying i did porn for a living. I said, "if you can imagine the biggest scumbag you have encountered in your life, and put my face on his... that is basically the life i have led, and if i look alittle to well put togther to make that imagine in your head, hold water... just assume that i clean up well when i need to."
I found it funny how many times he asked me, if i owned a gun. Is there a gun in the house i live in? was i sure? I think i made myself sound crazy when the only thing i replied was "trust me, if there was a gun in my house i, sure as shit wouldn't be here looking for help, because i would have all the help i needed at home".
Ha Ha?
No?
The look on his face from my responce told me to bite my tongue... You dummy, Don't tell him your fantasy of running around your old gym like the kid from virginia tech. Just... kidding???
But my first red flag went off when i started talking about some my problems with my boyfriend and one of his responces to a simple statement was, "well he must have known what you do for a living, right?"
Now, i know i didnt say, i was an adult actor... and i replied without saying, "yes, he knew i was a porn star". I just said yes and kept the conversation moving. He knew i was on to him when he later asked exactly what i did for a living and then gave me the bullshit "oh really" kinda responce.
I from that point on i gave up caring... once again, i just felt like it was all bullshit... i'm gonna spill my guts and confess all the dirty shit in my life to you, in search of some sort of relief and your gonna try and get over on me? Are you that dumb? or even worse, do you think that i am that dumb?
I ended our bullshit meeting in the search of a handful of perscriptions... he wasn't that dumb. So now, i'm basically sitting here considering the whole, self medicating route, god, i could use a drink, its been almost a full year since i have had alcohol control me... i guess i'm just getting to the point of not caring at all anymore...

Visitors to this blog divide into those who hang out in the comments and those who don't. I have no opinion either way but occasionally things get written in the comments that are better than whatever was on the front page. Further to that, what with the mere typing of words into a blog functioning as a summoning spell (by way of google), sometimes the things written in the comments take on a life of their own. Plug this into the meagre bits of intelligence one gets from statcounter and things can get curious.

And it's going on right now over in that Xinjiang Hooker thing I wrote a while back. (Hmm... struggling to remember what it was even about now - sex, I expect). Anyway, in the comments there I wondered at a very curious lobby group I'd found that was fighting for the emancipation of... wait for it... Buddhists and Muslims, and specifically those located in the People's Republic of China. Best I can make out, the magic summoning words seem to be 'snow lion foundation' and 'howard g fass', the name of one of the directors of the Snow Lion Foundation. Keep in mind that it's possible that Howard G Fass is the Snow Lion Foundation, but who can tell?

JULY 13, 2009 1:10 PM
nobody said...
Yeah VC, it's the same old story. Do these people really imagine that their money comes from legit sources? Have they not ever heard of the word 'proxy'? Cop a scrute at the Snow Lion Foundation. I came across it whilst looking up Rebiya Kadeer. See if you have any more luck than I did in finding a 'Who We Are' page anywhere in amongst it. In the 'Contact' page? No? Hmm... no one wants to put their name to it, it seems.

Mind you I did find one fellow on their offshoot blog. His name's Howard G Fass. Standing next to him, Rebiya Kadeer seems, I don't know... something other than 'brimming with enthusiasm'? Perhaps she'd just asked Mr Fass if he was as concerned for the occupied Muslims of Palestine as he was for the occupied Muslims of Xinjiang and gotten a curt reply? Who knows?

Otherwise, the Snow Lion foundation seems dedicated to the liberation of whomever is under the yoke of Chinese oppression, and Chinese oppression only. We're vaguely left to assume that they strongly identify with Muslims and Tibetan Buddhists. Like that makes any sense. Whilst who they're fighting for makes no sense, who they're fighting against is crystal clear.

What if I said that Howard G Fass was assigned to the destabilisation of China and he'll identify with whomever suits his cause, and whomever is stupid enough to believe that he's for real.

I could be wrong of course. Perhaps the Muslim/Buddhist cause is one that's very dear to Mr Fass's heart, and he selflessly gives his time, energy, and money not just to the Muslim/Buddhists under a Chinese boot heel, but to all Muslim/Buddhists the world over. In which case anyone thinking he's as crooked as the proverbial should hang their head in shame, apologise, and indeed lead everyone in a rousing chorus of 'For he's a jolly good fellow'.

Howard, if you do happen to pop in, feel free to tell us all that you are so too the right sort of fellow. If you get it right I absolutely promise I'll type out all the lyrics to the aforementioned as a penance for having called you out as bullshit. And you can't say fairer than that!

And then two weeks later Howard's defenders magically turn up.

SEPTEMBER 3, 2009 10:41 PM
Anonymous said...
I worked with Howard g.Fass in Taiwan during the recent typhoon disaster. You are all completely wrong about him, unlike yourselves who just sit back and complain, he actually trys his best to help people and is 100% for real. He worked tirelessly helping to clear away mud and help many people in Ling Bian in Southern Taiwan during the Morokot disaster. I saw it and was there.

Also I would not say that Howard is anti-china in any way. He just thinks the world should stand up for human rights more and challange china more and get them to stop all their terrible killings and murder. Maybe this is the best love that could be offered to the chinese by reminding them that they need to act more human with compassion and love.

Lien Bai

---

SEPTEMBER 4, 2009 2:22 PM
nobody said...
Hello Lien Bai,

How sweet you are, ha ha. As much as I'd like to take you up on this, I suspect you know nothing about Jewish people apart from what they've told you. Which is to say you have no idea.

In spite of your protestations, I resile from nothing.

I notice you didn't address why the 'Snowlion Foundation' has no names attached to it. Nor why they madly seem to be variously sticking up for Buddhists and Muslims both. Did you ever wonder who funds this 'foundation'? And who funded the tireless Mr Fass's trip to Taiwan? As for his standing up for human rights, where does Mr Fass stand on the human rights of the Muslims being oppressed and murdered by Israel and the US (with whom he has far more in common than he does with China)? Or do those countries not need his help like China does? And why might that be exactly?

Otherwise, as much as I'd like to fill you in on the part of the picture you don't understand, I've got better things to do and instead I'll just wish you well.

Thanks for dropping in Lien Bai, all the best!

---

SEPTEMBER 10, 2009 1:03 AM
Dolkar said...
I agree with Lien.

I am a Tibetan nun refugee and I can tell you that whoever works for human rights and religion freedom helps all of humanity no matter what color of skin or religion or country. I am a Buddhist nun and this is the perspective I am coming from. Others may think differently.

Rather than complain or make bad judgements we should first look at the work that is being done and look to see if there is a good heart behind it.

From my side I am grateful to the snowlion foundation and think its standing up for what is good and tries to help all sentient beings who suffer in samsara.

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SEPTEMBER 15, 2009 3:49 PM
nobody said...
"Rather than complain or make bad judgements we should first look at the work that is being done and look to see if there is a good heart behind it. "

I'm in utter agreement. And DID you look to see if there is a good heart behind it? Just so you know, that 'stripping away' is more or less the point of the exercise at this blog. I'm only ever seeking to more nearly arrive at the truth.

Hmm... it seems that no one from the Snow Lion Foundation itself has popped in here to stick up for themselves - only proxies. Go figure - In a discussion that is as much about the role of proxies as it is about anything else, a couple of proxies turn up to say it ain't so.

I'll concede that it's possible that you two people might actually be what you say you are. If that is the case, tell those Snow Lion folks to pop in here and lay out how their resemblance to a destabilisation of China psy-op is purely coincidental, [and] that they are so too for real. And I'll stick my tuppence worth in too. And then you can just sit back, watch the to and fro, and see if I don't make you wonder at who these people are and why they appear to be helping you.

Here's something I'll tell you for free - In this wicked geopolitical world we live in, it's a cold hard certainty that dissident groups will be funded, if not founded outright, by the CIA (and Mossad and MI6 etc. etc.) in order to bring down regimes the West doesn't like. And believe it or not they'll lie about it. And yes, appear really credible while they're at it. Believe it or not, they can walk and chew gum at the same time.

But all of that is provided you are who you say you are. I have nothing to go on one way or another apart from your say-so. But these things are figure-outerable and I'm getting better at it. Feel free to pile back in and establish yourselves one way or the other.

best regards,

n

Interesting, huh? But what do we know of our two commenters? Know for sure, that is? It's poor of me I admit, but I can all too easily imagine an individual given to lying defending his rep by pretending to be other people. For a liar this would be a logical choice since it would mean: being above the fray; not having to answer any direct questions; added weight by way of appearing to be the consensus of a group; and all the time being possessed of a borrowed cloak of Buddhist unimpeachability. All stock in trade for a spook.

And sure enough our second Howard-defender's first utterances are to express solidarity with the first Howard defender. Do we roll our eyes yet?

Back to the know-for-sure: neither of these two had any opinion on anything expressed in the article; they just wanted to talk about things connected with Fass and his foundation. Which means they dropped in directly via google searches. Between the two google-able handles of 'snow lion foundation' and 'howard g fass', it's possible that the former delivered people to that blog page. It's just that I've never seen a search for it in my statcounter. (It should be kept in mind that with the free statcounter cache of 500 entries I might well have missed it).

But to hell with that, the searches for 'howard g fass' have been unmissable, beaten only by 'fuck dolls', 'dave mcgowan', and 'impossible riddle' in the popularity stakes. And all from the same address in the US. Without declaring any certainty in the matter, I reckon the person most likely to be looking up 'howard g fass' in google is Howard G Fass himself. I mean, honestly.

And so! Never mind the proxies, I reiterate my call for Howard G Fass to come on down and pile in. C'arn Howard! Make my day! I'm sure I'm not the only one here who'd love to have you explain to us how the Snow Lion's Foundation's resemblance to a CIA/Mossad destabilisation psy-op is purely coincidental. We'd also like to hear you explain to us how it does-so-too make sense for a man who shares the religious beliefs of the most anti-Muslim nation in the world to be sticking up for Muslims, albeit geographically specific ones. Feel free to include something about the long and proud tradition of organisations fighting for the interests of two religions, neither of which has a single thing in common apart from their oppressor, and that also happen to be run by a fellow who isn't a member or either of those religions. I'm sure there's been many, many.

Just to give you fair warning, all those niceties and assumed considerations you might receive in mainstream forums will be absent here. Also keep in mind that in this neck of the woods, we're pretty ofay on all things spooky. We're a tough audience and we've been doing it for years.

That being said, you might be for real. It is possible you can give an account of yourself that makes sense. And I'd love to hear it! Honestly! Watch me admit I was wrong and type out those Jolly Good Fellow lyrics. If you can pull it off, that is. As much as I'd like to see what that picture will look like, somehow I just don't think you'll be able to paint it.

But never mind - what with me being a helpful fellow, may I point out what I think your options are?

1. Stay away. This is the spook's smart money bet, mate. You tried the proxies, they got short shrift, so what are you going to do? Best you just shrug and put up with it. Not forgetting of course that the teapot for this tempest consists solely of the comments section of a weeny few-hundred-hits-a-day blog. Oh, okay, I admit it's on the front page now, what with me being spurred by the google action, but still: It is the smart money and it's never too late to ignore a thing that's only going to get uglier otherwise.

2. Pile in! Not only is this the obvious thing to do but it's exactly what they'll expect, ha ha. My advice - Do it! Defend your good name and all of that. You've got two routes here -
A) The high dudgeon thing - sputter, say it's all lies, call me an anti-Semite (I recommend double apostrophes around "nobody" to denote sneering), question my education, intelligence, and sanity, declare I'm on drugs, stomp off.
B) Adopt a measured tone and act disappointed and regretful - BYO straw men and proxies, knock down straw men, have proxies declare you are great, ignore everything else, declare victory, leave.
C) A combination of A and B, ha ha. Oh wait, is that three things? Damn.
Motivation: How would a real campaigner for Buddhist/Muslim rights feel?

And yes, I am a cocky bastard. But never mind, best just to view it as enthusiasm. And you can't blame me: I figure I've got you in a double bind - damned if you do, damned if you don't. It's good sport isn't it? But when you signed up for the spook caper you didn't think it'd be easy did you? You want to be challenged don't you?

Excellent. Here we are.

I, the undersigned,

Do hereby agree to produce and screen the following described TV series 'Mind Control' in return for paying the author, nobody, enough money to, a) fund a large property in the country where he can grow organic food and build a village for right-thinking people which shall be called 'Selflessness', and, b) further fund a charity, created by the author, nobody, to aid the victims of mind-control experiments.*

I further agree that this series will accord with the following descriptions and conditions -

1) Each episode begins with a montage of MKULTRA experiments and the following voice-over - "Since WWII the CIA and the US military has been conducting a mind control program against the American people. In league with satanists and paedophiles, they have sought to corrupt government at every level and are wicked beyond description. Two people, Doctor George Gilray and his spiritual partner, Diana Devere, seek to tear down this secret government and bring about world enlightenment in the process."

2) The pilot movie-length episode starts with Dr Gilray in his lab in a non-descript NASA facility. He is typing in a computer - "Analysis of brain wave data of subject dosed with 10mg of toluphenobarb and subjected to 'blue spectrum' alpha waves..." Cut to close up of the military recruit subject's mindless face as the noise of typing continues. The subject leaves - enter his next subject, a female who, according to her clipboard, has been administered LSD41. 'What the hell is that?' says Gilray. He proceeds to administer blue spectrum alpha waves to the catatonic woman.

When it is finished she says, "Hello Dr. Gilray. Don't be alarmed, I am awake. My name is Diana and you need to listen to me carefully now..." Over a series of flashbacks, she then explains to Gilray the nightmarish experiments and torture she has been subjected to for the purpose of producing mind control slaves. He is astounded. She tells Gilray that his role has been unwitting, as has his discovery that LSD41, in combination with blue alpha, can overturn the entire process and restore all memory. Diana states that she knows all this now because her many fractured 'alters' are united. Not only is she one within herself but she is one with the universe. She is fully awake.

Gilray is in awe of her and since he too is now in danger, agrees to help her escape the facility. They are seen and a chase ensues. After casting off their pursuers, they plan on how to find the formula for LSD41 so that they might liberate more mind control subjects and bring down the satanist paedophile cabal who run the whole thing. To find the drug they must break into another military facility. They do so and lock themselves into the lab overnight.

Here they discover a morgue-like room full of humans on life support. One of them is a clone of Gilray. It was made from a DNA sample of his from seventeen years earlier. Diana tells Gilray that physically it is identical to him but she sees its brain and it is perfectly blank apart from the ability to breathe. All of the bodies are the same and possess neither mind nor soul nor have any aura. "They are unnatural travesties of nature made by perverse self-worshippers," says Diana. Gilray wonders how she can know this. She declares that she is different now and demonstrates to Gilray what she is capable of by possessing the mindless bodies and making them all sit up and look at him. She apologises for spooking him out and says, "I am really very powerful now. I can feel it."

They leave to look for the drug formula. They do not find it apart from a single dose left in a drawer. They both agree Gilray should take the treatment. He too awakes but not to the level of Diana who, as part of her abuse, was smashed into dozens of MPD/DID alters and subsequently has multiplied powers. He now perceives her nearly goddess-like nature, a tiny part of which has transferred to him and which will forever connect them. They make love.

In the morning they are discovered and forced to escape through the 'morgue'. Here Diana animates the bodies to assist them in their escape. As they flee in a car with Gilray's clone in the back seat the facility explodes behind them. Adventures and chases follow, each trumping the other until they/we realise that enormous forces (the entire US military, CIA, FBI, local police everywhere, as well as sundry MIL mercenaries) are trying to kill them. Hiding out in an old warehouse they realise that the only way for them to shake off their pursuers is if they are dead.

They decide to publicly immolate themselves in front of the headquarters of the CIA. This will make their deaths indisputable and also shine a spotlight on the villains. The key to the plan consists of Gilray's mindless DNA match (animated by Diana) being burned in his place. Diana argues that yes, she has no clone, but the mission is too important and that if only one of them survives to carry on it's better than nothing. Gilray, full of awe and love for her tearfully agrees.

An A-team sequence follows in which our heroes build websites and place cameras and laptops at the location they've selected. In amongst this we see various examples of Diana using her extraordinary powers to assist George: seeing the future thus enabling them to avoid government agents; possessing and bamboozling people; telepathically guiding him through buildings he has never been in etc. Finally everything is arranged and Gilray and Diana enter the plaza. As the music swells we see the spectacularly beautiful slo-mo sequence of our two lovers burning. They are perfectly serene. Cut to Gilray watching from a distance, shattered at the loss of his goddess. He drives away, desperately evading the security forces who start arriving.

At the Mexican beachside shack that comprises their meeting point, Gilray checks to see the internet reaction to the footage he uploaded and finds small numbers and all of them trolls. He is very disheartened and in a montage of all that has gone before he breaks down and calls out to Diana. She appears to him and explains that she is not dead. Her energy was too great and that when she burned it was only her body that was destroyed. She loves Gilray in a way he will never truly understand and will always be there for him. Together, as body and spirit, they will fight the cabal, rescue the victims, and otherwise bring truth and enlightenment. Turning, she shows him the internet hit counter spinning off the dial as the truth of Mind Control goes exponential. The final shot is of Diana as she dances in slo-mo through the water's edge splashing Gilray as he stands there his face wreathed in smiles.

3) Each following weekly episode will feature the pair as they pursue the formula for LSD41, occasionally coming across some and administering it to other mind-control victims thus making new and exotically powered allies, and all the while variously hiding from, battling with, or fleeing the paedophocracy. They find themselves in various situations: amongst a small-town ring of satanists; in the White House with the Vice President and a reverse version of 'the most dangerous game'; bringing down a Michael Aquino/military childcare ring; doing an inside-out 'Get Shorty' featuring the unmasking of a Laurel Canyon-style psy-op; breaking into a video production facility with links to international child abduction; a white witch/black witch battle with Diana tangling with another preternaturally powerful mind control subject (her evil twin sister, ha!) etc. etc.

4) The foreground action of our heroes will take place against the constant backdrop of social upheaval brought on by our pair's internet revelations, with each strand plotting a rising arc of frequency and intensity. Constant strands: service personnel and police variously deserting or forming themselves into militia; disillusioned people explaining what they participated in, the wrongness of it, and why they are now filled with hope; background televisions constantly featuring examples of local media outlets being retaken by people's councils; the collapse of the old order of corruption with the rolling up of paedophile and satanist networks, the throwing down of banks, and the establishment of various ad hoc people's councils. Constant phrases: time of revelation (specifically in terms of things being revealed); lack of fear or desire; selflessness; anti-buddhas; black paragons of selfishness. (Ha ha ha, a little nobody buzz-word checklist there. And Les Visible, sure).

Against this constant decline in the power of those pursuing our heroes, their need for anonymity will likewise fall away and they will slowly become known and revered by more and more people. Their immolation was a circular twofer: it rendered them invisible and thus freed them from government depredations, but also brought about the government's destruction with their invisibility becoming unnecessary.

5) The character of George Gilray is to be played by James McEvoy. Gilray's pre-awake character is somewhat uncertain and confused. Afterwards he is broadly more self-possessed. If he could give off a beatific vibe, a la Jim Caviezel, that would be really marvellous. Infrequently Gilray will perform martial arts. He is clearly a variety of martial arts practitioner but this is never really explained apart from the fact that he is loath to employ it. (NB. Virtually all violence is committed on the part of the wicked. Our hero's use of violence will precisely resemble that of Ashitaka in Princess Mononoke).

The character of Diana Devere is to be played by Milla Jovovich. She is Joan of Arc meets the Buddha, except in flashbacks where she is perfectly human. Awake, she is always serene. Diana as goddess will be distinguished from human Diana by way of a post-production glow/aura/transparency. Further effects will be required for the occasional use of Diana-cam, wherein everything is seen by way of auras. To all intents and purposes goddess Diana is as precisely corporeal or as ethereal as she wishes - whatever suits.

This show is not sexy. Together the lovers are actually quite chaste since neither is possessed of desire. The two will always behave naturally: laughs, kisses, caresses. They will be perfectly familiar with, and confident of each other, free of insecurities or niggles. Hmm... perhaps a scene that opens with Gilray lying on a bed laughing. A spirit-like Diana, who had been occupying his body, arises out of him, "Did you enjoy that?" Gilray, still smiling, says that when she occupies him and meditates like that, it's extraordinary, "It leaves me at a loss for words. It beats everything. My goddess, I thank you," giggling and post-coital conversation follows.

6) The series will run for three seasons. Season 1 will see our heroes being constantly pursued by a still functioning paedophocracy. Amongst those who are waking up to the paedophocracy, discussions of government wickedness are conducted at a small scale. Season 2 will involve the maximum degree of social disorder with revelations of hitherto hidden wickedness becoming ever greater. Our heroes will no longer be quite so alone or anonymous, receiving constant help from various allies. Season 3 will see truth gaining the ascendency with the paedophocracy reduced to private warlord armies, bandit gangs, and the fearful hoping to evade detection. Each will be uncovered and dealt with, with the final climax seeing the burning of both the Fed and Bohemian Grove, the signing of a new constitution, and the popular election of George Gilray as chairman to the people's council governing the United States.

7) The pilot will be directed by the author nobody. The soundtrack will be by Hisaishi Jo and The Pixies. Apart from the two leads, each week will feature a heavyweight guest star: Zhang Ziyi, Jim Broadbent, Jeanette Garofolo, Warren Oates, Beat Takeshi, Naomi Harris, Mads Mikkelsen, and Les Visible as himself, ha ha.

8) All final creative say will rest solely with the author, nobody. He may pull the plug at any time for any reason he thinks appropriate. The characters, plots, and themes that comprise Mind Control, particularly the key characters of Dr. George Gilray and Diana Devere, will remain the sole property of the author, nobody.

The point of the exercise is not to get rich but to tell the truth. This series, Mind Control, is not more of the same. It is not mindless fodder to make people stupid and otherwise fill in the gaps between commercials. If we get this right we can change the world. Should I, the undersigned, turn out to be just another self-impressed liar and git (as according to the opinion of the author, nobody) I agree to submit to either: surrendering a pound of flesh (blood included) from whichever part of my body the author, nobody, cares to name, or; handing over all my worldly possessions and living in complete penury for the rest of my life, whichever is the most amusing.

Take it or leave it.

*not forgetting of course that the author, nobody, could be talked into doing it for food and accommodation if it was for real, ha ha.

signed,

______________________________