Picasso's Vision

Pablo Picasso said, "Painting is just another way of keeping a diary."

On that I feel I must agree to a certain extent. As a sporadic painter I most often feel driven to pick up a brush when I am at my most sensitive and vulnerable. Most of the time I am not quite sure what I want to express until after it's already out there and on the paper/canvas/board. And as this quote of Picasso's jumped out at me from the tag on a bag of tea this afternoon(Good Earth brand, Black Tea "Tropical Peach" YUM!) it has stayed in my heart the rest of the evening.

As I dug through my files of art I tripped across this old painting and I wanted to share it with you. I think it would be closest to what Picasso is talking about, at least for me personally.

When I was a toddler I drowned in a pool. I lay there on the bottom staring up at the sky. This is what I saw(click on it for a better view):


This watercolor painting/collage on board was done in 2007. I don't have the original any more. Once I was done with it I scanned it and then destroyed the actual painting. I felt free. So here you go. Here's a page out of my 'diary.'

Islamic Words of Wisdom

"What is the best type of Jihad [struggle]?" He answered: "Speaking truth before a tyrannical ruler."

This contradicts the following scriptures in such a stark way that it seems impossible the same person(or group of people) wrote the Qur'an.

1. "Whoever desires a religion other than Islam in the next world he shall be among the losers."
   

2. "One may be negligent toward God but one must be respectful toward Muhammad."
   

Megalomania has no place in gnosis and warmongering prophets are always suspect. Especially when promises of several baker's dozen virgins are dangled in front of a sinful man as if he were in a bakery and not about to blow himself up to fight 'the infidel.' What happened to 'speaking truth'? It has been replaced with totalitarian sparked violence and this is truly distressing. Literalists pitted against literalists. There are no winners here- no matter what sect of religion you profess faith in.

Universal love is invisible, it seems. Like 'magic' ink it disappears on paper and if it's not visible then it can't possible exist. But if it's written on the heart it is eternally visible.

And so seekers of gnosis are left picking piecemeal bits of wisdom from the Qur'an just like any other spiritually inspired text.

Heavy Words of Gnostic Wisdom From Socrates

"There is a doctrine uttered in secret that man is a prisoner who has no right to open the door of his prison and run away."

"Wars and revolutions and battles are due simply and solely to the body and its desires. All wars are undertaken for the acquisition of wealth; and the reason why we have to acquire wealth is the body, because we are slaves in its service."

Pre-Christian Era Gnostics

The Roman Vitruvius writes: "Let no one think I have erred if I believe in the Logos."

Orpheus was claimed to have said, "Behold the Logos divine. Tread well the narrow path of life and gaze on Him, the world's greatest ruler, our immortal king."

Logos is described by the earliest Church fathers(whose doctrines directly stemmed from gnostic ideas!) such as Clement and Origen, as being the "Idea of Ideas," or God's primal thought. As if the Oneness of God were a thought or idea that we can barely describe because the actuality of it is so complex. Or so simple and profound that it does not yet have the ability to be described in any spoken language we possess. It's like saying that you remember the first breath you took once you left your mother's body. Was it conscious or not? What were your first thoughts? Again, the idea of the birth of life itself is so immense that most gnostics are left writing poetry and riddles.

It's interesting because gnostics across the globe who have come to gnosis alone and in solitude, once they begin talking to one another they speak the same language. They use similar metaphors to describe their journey or the feeling of closeness to the All. So there is something they all share; something innate, intimate and abiding; patiently waiting for the right moment to spring forth. I believe it is the very thing Orson Scott Card wrote about in his line of Ender's Game books: the philotic web theory.

Heraclitus said in the sixth century BC, "Logos is shared by all," and "Having hearkened not unto me, but unto the Logos, it is wise to confess that all things are one."

Origen also said, "As our body, while consisting of many members, is yet held together by one soul, so the universe is thought of as an immense living being, which is held together by One Soul- the power and the Logos of God."

Amy Winehouse = Nina Simone Reborn?

Veering off the road a bit from the topic of gnosis I'd like to pay tribute to two wonderful singers.


Beyond listening to the song "Rehab" and watching the crazed news blurbs about her drunken and drug induced states of mental instability, I honestly have not followed much of Amy Winehouse's career. However when I learned of her death today I took a few hours to look back over her life and work. I came to the stunned realization that Nina Simone had been reborn! ....and then we lost her again. It happens like that, though. Musicians flit in and out of this world in the blink of an eye and most of the time are only appreciated after the gravestone has been set in the ground for a good decade or so.

Now Amy's career was nowhere near as prolific as Nina's, however her look, deep vocal tone, flare for the bold and dramatic.... it's all there. Even right down to the abuse of her patrons, unfortunately. If only she could have stayed away from the drugs and booze Amy might have had a fighting chance.

Wiki: Writer Josh Tyrangiel praised Winehouse for her confidence, opining, “What she is is mouthy, funny, sultry, and quite possibly crazy."

Yep. Sounds a lot like my beloved Nina!

Financial success does not make a person happy. But I don't think that financial success would have made either woman happy because their desires so drastically clashed with the reality of what they were being offered and had access to.

I look at Nina's life and it is one royal disaster after the other. Her biography reads like the worst sort of fate that the three bitch Fates could have possible concocted out of sheer spite. Combine undiagnosed(for at least 20 years)schizophrenia with a pair of golden lungs and a con-artist for a record label manager and.... you've got a recipe for disaster! Fortunately for her fans Nina did not succumb to despair, she just strapped on her boots and kicked in doors that much harder.

What makes my heart hurt the most when reading about Nina's history in the music industry is how little she is appreciated for her contribution. Ask most any jazz fan who their top five favorite singers are and they'll give you the same old generic list. Ask them who Nina Simone is and you're lucky if one of them says, "Oh, that crazy lady who died hiding out in France?" erm.. yes. That one. And the same lady who is known as the High Priestess of Soul.

And the worst part is that she HATED being linked to the jazz genre!! She wanted to be known for her talents on the piano, not her voice. I fell in love with her from the very first time I heard a strangely neuter voice singing "Wild is the Wind," a sad ballad in the movie Point of No Return. To hear "Sinnerman" in the Thomas Crown Affair always makes me want to stomp my feet and clap in time. Nina is everywhere now! But she is still not covered anywhere near as much as she deserves. In any jazz or soul compilation album you're pretty much out of luck to see anything at all of Nina. She was burned by the music labels and she burned more than a few bridges with them with her bad behavior. I think that her absence from compilation albums is in direct relation to these labels still being irritated with her past fall(s) from grace.

"Four Women" will make you cry and "Pirate Jenny" will have you grinning and cheering for Jenny as she 'scrubbing these floors while you're gawking. Maybe if you tip me and it makes you feel swell in this crummy old town in this crummy old hotel.. but you couldn't ever guess to who you're talking. No, you couldn't ever guess...' Jenny gets her revenge in the end. I think Nina did, too.

Nevermind that "Pirate Jenny" was written in 1931 for a GERMAN opera! - Nina managed to bring this extravagant tune to life once again and gave it relevance in the 1960-1970 era of intense civil strife. It is to this day one of my top five favorite songs.

If Nina's "Mississippi Goddamn" was boycotted back in 1964 and Amy's "Rehab" (and various other adult themed songs)was met with uneasy acceptance then I think our society has at least matured enough to embrace singers and song writers to show us what we makes us squirm to see in the mirror. We may not like it but we are forced to at least acknowledge it; to confront our sense of unease and analyze it further.

If you read this blog post and do nothing else today, please listen to Nina's live recording of "Mississippi Goddamn." This 'show tune... but a show hasn't been written for it... yet' is still so very relevant today. Nina tells us to Wake Up! Act! ... and it isn't such bad advice.

Rest in peace, Nina and Amy.

Gay Marriage in NY

I think I woke up in the Twilight Zone this morning. This article greeted me on the front page of MSN. New York state passed gay rights marriage laws.

excerpt:

That shift was precipitated by the emergence of a growing constituency of pro-gay-marriage operatives and donors in the Republican Party, whose direction on social issues is still largely set by its culturally conservative base.

“There is an important change going on among Republicans and conservatives,” said Kenneth B. Mehlman, a former chairman of the Republican National Committee.

Mr. Mehlman, who acknowledged his own homosexuality after his tenure at the national committee had ended, was among a group of Republicans who helped raise money from prominent Republican donors to support the same-sex marriage effort in Albany. Those donors underwrote much of the cost of the same-sex marriage advocates’ advertising and lobbying campaigns.

Among increasing numbers of conservatives and Republicans, he said, there is the conviction “that freedom to marry is consistent with conservative values.”

ermm... last I checked Republican was synonymous with anti-abortion, upper-middle class white people from suburbia who still believe the Vietnam War was justified, who look around saying, "Agent Orange what?" Maybe I'm oversimplifying this a bit but this political shift is too damn shifty to say exactly what is going to happen next.

Some good:

“They’ve shown a way to actually get a bill through a Legislature,” said Richard S. Madaleno Jr., a Democratic state senator in Maryland and sponsor of the marriage bill that was shelved. “And I think we’re going to use some of the same lessons, the same tactics, in Maryland over the next six months.”

Good... and yet- I'm still scratching my head over this. The Democrats had the majority and they couldn't manage to pull it off. The Republicans get put in the Big Boy Chair and all of a sudden it passes?!!! The Republicans voted against it the first time around! Why the change of heart?

Ohhhh! Yeah. The money. Some big money gay Republicans have finally come out of the closet and have used their checkbooks to buy votes.

If the cause wasn't a worthy one I'd be slamming my head on my keyboard right now in frustration with our money-bag-gagged political system.

In any case, congrats NY! This blogger is happy that couples finally have the choice to be together in whatever committed way they see fits their needs and desires.

Reflecting on Death

It has been two months since my last post. Between my two kids finishing up with final school projects, my side business needing remodeling, my husband driving me insane from being home due to short term disability..... my head has been spinning. I've barely had time to breathe let alone write anything cogent here.

So the kids get done with school, we pack their bags so they can go up and spend the summer with the first wife, hubby is healing and on his way back to work.... and just as I'm getting settled in to get this house in order again I get one phone call after another giving me bad news after bad news. I'm wondering when it's going to stop. Deaths happen in threes, it seems.

Last week my grandfather died at the age of 82. I just went to his funeral today. Military honors and all. It was sweltering hot, everyone was sweating through their clothes and I have to say that we were (all 150 of us) holding up quite well until the Taps was played. Then we discovered there was a severe shortage of tissues. My twelve year old niece was sitting on my mother's lap and when the three shots were fired she screamed and had to be taken to the car. She and Grandpa were close and she was just plain devastated and traumatized by the whole thing.

My nephew(by marriage) was killed in a hit-and-run this past Saturday. That funeral will be this Friday. My poor brother-in-law drank himself silly the day after it happened. Mother and I took food over and sat with him and my sister. He started yammering on and on about killing the guy who killed his son and then sobbing about how wrong he was so say such things. All I can say at this point is that our whole family has gone slightly psycho this past week.

THEN tonight, only hours after getting home from my grandfather's funeral Mom calls me and tells me that a longtime friend of ours died on Monday. He was living with family in Joplin, Missouri when the tornadoes broke out. He had cirrhosis in his liver among other things. He'd been bed bound for a while. Well when the tornadoes hit, he jumped out of bed to try and get a bag together and get to a shelter. He never made it. He fell to the floor in his bedroom and went into multiple system failure, dying two days later in the hospital.

This past week has been filled with nothing but death. I hope these are the last funerals I have to attend for a while.

Any followers of this blog who've read my posts on grief know already that I believe that the 'grief' of a loved one's passing from this material world is ultimately a selfish expression. And a subconsciously jealous one. Sadness they're gone from us(if we allow it to) tends to spiral into a selfish circular logic which is all about what the survivor has 'lost' and not what the recently deceased has gained. An aunt of mine said it best today, "I'll see Daddy soon and I guess I'm just jealous, really." She gave a silly laugh and smile afterward and we shared a knowing look with one another. No one else at the table got it. They looked at her slightly horrified.

I had a wonderful experience just before Mom originally called me to tell me about Grandpa's death. She woke me up from a sound sleep with her call and only a short time earlier I remember dreaming that Grandpa and I were talking. It was almost like a phone conversation but ... closer. I can't tell who initiated the 'call' but he asked me some sensitive questions; things I don't think I could have had the nerve to explain in person. He hugged me and told me that he understood everything and why I made the decisions I did and that he loves me. And, "everything is ok." More questions were asked but- it was easier and more efficient that he just take the information he wanted and then he said good-bye. I felt like he pillaged parts of my soul with that last bit but it wasn't intrusive in a bad way. Just... efficient.

I told Mom about the dream and she said she was so thankful that grandpa and I got a chance to talk. I was so sick during Easter this year that I didn't get to see him during that last holiday get-together. We made our peace with one another. I was still pretty numb that day but you know what? I had my one cry-fest and then I was done with it. I remembered what grandpa said to me and just like that- my sadness was gone. It evaporated like morning dew on grass when the sun comes up hot and bright. I felt his presence for a day or so and then he was gone, at peace at last, lying beside his wife who he'd been missing for more than twenty-six years.

From the Nag Hammadi scrolls in the Manichaean literature section, I'd like to dedicate these verses to all our loved ones:

Come, spirit. Death has fallen, and sickness fled away.
Let there be no desire for the house of affliction,
which is wholly destruction and anguishing death.
You were cast out from your native abode. You suffered in hell.
Come nearer in gladness. Don't turn back
to regard the shape of the bodies. See, they return
through every rebirth, and through every agony
and every choking prison where they burn and sigh.
Come nearer. Don't be fond of perishing beauty
in any of its forms. It withers
and fades like a broken rose that dries in the sun,
its grace destroyed.
Princes and dead souls lie shackled in the tomb
where all is blackness.

My soul is saved.
I am dressed in light.

Life Sucks Like A Freshly Unclogged Toilet

Couldn't really think of a different title to this post. My apologies. But it is accurately descriptive of my state of being at the moment, unfortunately.

Lemme go ahead and get the whinefest out of the way then I'll try to weave some sort of gnostic wisdom into this somehow.

Gripe #1: My stepsons have been driving me batshit crazy and I'm tired of fighting with my husband about their behavior; thank the All that they are at their birthmother's the next two weeks. She is trying to virtual-school them for one of those weeks so that she can keep them a week after Spring Break and quite honestly I have to say that as a substitute Learning Coach she sucks! Ugh. I'm watching the boys grades go down the drain.

Granted, it's been funny from our perspective(mine and my husband's) watching this all happen in their gradebook online. We can accurately tell when she's trying to be firm with them and when they're tap dancing all over her head like she's an idiot. I even wrote her a five page Guidebook for heaven's sake, describing in great detail all the stunts they'll try to pull and how to deal with it! Does she call and ask for help? Nope. I offered. And it was sincere. If she called I would honestly put the crackdown on those boys if she asked me to; however then of course Daddy would have some serious questions for them when they came home about why they act like such jerks. .. oh wait. That was last week. And that discussion didn't really lead anywhere. I feel like I'm caught in the Groundhog Day movie.

Gripe #2: discovered my cat is bulimic. Our carpet cleaner has been getting quite a workout lately. Only made the logical diagnosis when I spotted him wolfing down his food then sauntering his fat ass over to the Siamese's bowl, shoving her out of the way, gulping down half her portion, and then walked over to the carpet to hurl it all back up. I swear this cat is just about too damn stupid to live. (And no he doesn't have an allergy to the food.)

So now I have to feed the Siamese in our bedroom and el stupido gordo in the kitchen, effectively locking the two apart from one another until the bowls are empty or they lose interest. Then pick the bowls up. Otherwise, the male speeds his butt on over to her bowl and digs in. Then I have to shoo him away and that's just a sad dramatic story all in itself because he's really a very stubborn cat and this argument of ours tends to get a bit loud. He's not very good at taking no for an answer. My foot on his face and shoving him in the opposite direction is usually how we settle the disagreement. Even then sometimes he has to be the masochist and come running back for some more yelling and foot action on my part. He is seriously demented. Sweet and cuddly. But demented.

The few times my mother has watched him for a couple of days she always drops him off early saying, "that cat is a jackass!" and who am I to disagree? I have literally woken up to his bad cat breath in my face, wondering what the hell he was doing in the house, and then found a Post It note on the inside of my front door saying, "Honey, your cat is a jackass." No joke. She really does this.

And he is a pushy little jackass. I'm sure our neighbors think our cats are starved and beaten. Au contraire. They just have their humans wound around their little kitty paws and oh boy do they know it. I open a can of tuna in this house and the Siamese sounds like a baby who hasn't been fed in a week. I swear, I'd wire her jaws shut if I didn't love that little brat so much. Her name isn't Little Big Mouth for nothing. A pedigreed brat. At least she isn't bulimic. She does have that going in her favor. And she is the absolute best movie critic. The more blood and gore she sees in a movie the harder she switches her tail across my face and chatters at the TV. She loves scary movies.

I'm just really sick of cleaning up orange colored puke stains in the carpet. Why do they have to put so much food dye in animal kibble anyway? Then again, why do we have white carpets in this apartment??

Gripe #3: My fish died yesterday. I really miss him. Beta. Off white with red fins. He was gorgeous. I think he had an albino somewhere in his lineage because at first glance you'd swear he was a female. I bought him because I thought he was a cool looking little cross dresser and anyone else would just plain make fun of him. I wouldn't. I like the misfits and the outcasts. He was a real sweety.

The boys are coming back next Thursday and I honestly don't know how to reconcile myself with that fact. I feel like locking myself in my own closet and reading a book all day just to get away from their attitudes. And anyone who wants to comment, please be aware of this first: yes, the kids know me. I've been in their lives for more than a few years now. No, they don't need 'divorce therapy,' they're just regular kids who will take ten miles if you give them an inch. With ADHD. And lungs. And the ability to turn my hair gray with their reckless shenanigans. Hubby says that if they both keeps this crap up he's going to have to switch to the night shift. (I'm not quite convinced that he doesn't fear I have homicidal tendencies.) Nah. Xanax + iPod. Problem solved. But that doesn't mean my roots don't need constant touch ups from the stress. I'm giving Clairol a lot of my money lately.

If it was legal I'd put them both in a box, turn on a camera, sell tickets to the fight, and let them duke it out like a pair of pissed off chinchillas. I think that sometimes that's just what siblings need- to kick the crap out of eachother and be done with it. That'd be stress relieving for all of us, don't you think? The masses are entertained, money flows in the bank, and the kids end up so tired that they actually don't have the energy to run their mouths and piss anyone off.

About that gnostic wisdom bit I mentioned in the beginning? I just ain't feeling it. The closest I've come to any kind of rational thought the past few days is today when I finished reading Anne Rice's "Vittorio, The Vampire" book. (First edition, ya'll! My first edition collection of Anne Rice's books are my only materialistic vice.)

Page nine of the book contained such a piece of eloquent drama I feel compelled to recount it for you here. Simply magnificent!!

Vittorio is talking about how he may be a blood sucking revenant of a monster but that makes him no less a human being with human feelings with an equally important life story to tell. Then he began reciting a passage from Sheridan Le Fanu's story called "the Familiar."

"Whatever may be my uncertainty as to the authenticity of what we are taught to call revelation, of one fact I am deeply and horribly convinced, that there does exist beyond this a spiritual world-- a system whose workings are generally in mercy hidden from us-- a system which may be, and which is sometimes, partially and terribly revealed. I am sure-- I know... that there is a god-- a dreadful God-- and that retribution follows guilt, in ways most mysterious and stupendous-- by agencies the most inexplicable and terrific; -- that there is a spiritual system-- great God, how I have been convinced!- a system malignant, and inexplicable, and omnipotent, under whose persecutions I am, and have been, suffering the torments of the damned!

Vittorio then begins speaking to his Readers again saying,

"What do you think of that?

I am myself rather mortally struck by it. I don't think I am prepared to speak of our God as "dreadful" or our system as "malignant," but there seems to be an eerie inescapable ring of truth to these words, written in fiction but obviously with much emotion.

It matters to me because I suffer under a terrible curse, quite unique to me, I think, as a vampire. That is, the others don't share it. But I think we all-- human, vampire, all of us who are sentient and can weep-- we all suffer under a curse, the curse that we know more than we can endure, and there is nothing, absolutely nothing, we can do about the force and the lure of this knowledge."

This curse Vittorio bears is indeed unique among vampires: he can see the divine glow of the human Spark in every person on the planet. Vampire, human, doesn't matter. Anyone with a human soul has this gold aura to his eyes.

So as he's killing to feed he has to acknowledge that his actions are slowly snuffing out a spark from the Divine. He literally sees the light dim and then die altogether. That is the unique suffering he must bear. And why? Because he broke a deal with three angels.

The angels agreed to help him physically enter the vampire coven's(this is when he was human still) castle if he himself will do the actual slaying in order to avenge his slaughtered village. The angels cannot kill without divine command so Vittorio has to do the actual killing. The angels fulfill their part of the bargain but Vittorio grows a conscience and backs out when it comes to the last coven member, Ursula, with whom he is unfortunately infatuated.

He argues with the angels saying that if Ursula repents of all her past sins then he will kill her-- IF they swear that her soul will go to Heaven. But the angels cannot say whether or not her soul will go to heaven and because they see his conflict they back away and let Vittorio do what he wants. In the end, Ursula tricks Vittorio into becoming like her and he's so pissed about it that they go on a killing spree but that's not really the point.

The real kick in the pants is that two of the angels Vittorio first sees are the very guardian angels of a painter he adores. And because he happens to glimpse behind the veil of reality and spy on the guardian angel's activities he changes(or does he??) the painter's future. When your guardian angels aren't around and are helping other people what kind of mischief can a person get into?!!

Fra Filippo Lippi ends up kidnapping a nun from a convent, her sister, and then setting up a house with all three of them! His vice was women and without his guardian angels to steer him clear of temptations he apparently said to hell with it and royally screwed the pooch. The town wanted to lynch him.

A whispering came to Vittorio's ear, "One might wonder where were his guardian angels on the day that Fra Filippo did such a mad thing?"

Vittorio whirls around and sees no one.

Finally, after much running about he is allowed to see all the angels he brokered a deal with. As a vampire he could not understand why he could still see them. They explained his newly(and uniquely) damned status: he would forevermore see angels when he viewed Fra Lippi's paintings and he would always see the bright divine spark of God within humans to remind him of his bad decision to linger on earth longer than a human should have a right.

Technically, he was tricked, right? But he wouldn't kill Ursula unless she was repentant and she wasn't so..... he's just plain out of luck.

A few points of interest I found particularly intriguing was that Vittorio mentions it's not just Fra Lippi's paintings which take on a lifelike quality when he views them; his son, Filipino's paintings of angels are quickened in his presence as well.

The two angels who first attract Vittorio's attention are portrayed in Fra Lippi's "Annunciation" series of paintings. I managed to find one of the angels. He talks about the one with 'peacock feathers in his wings.' I have not been so lucky to see the second angel.



Vittorio's parting words to his Readers :

"Gold. that is what I see when I look at you.

That is what I see when I look at any man, woman, and child.

I see the flaming celestial gold that Mastema revealed to me. I see it surrounding you, and holding you, encasing you and dancing with you, though you yourself may not behold it, or even care.

From this tower tonight in Tuscany, I look out over the land, and far away, deep in the valleys, I see the gold of human beings, I see the glowing vitality of beating souls."

..... "I am not saying I am a great painter. I am not such a fool. But I say that out of my pain, out of my folly, out of my passion there comes a vision-- a vision which I carry with me eternally and which I offer to you.

It is a vision of every human being, bursting with fire and mystery, a vision I cannot deny, nor blot out, nor ever turn away from, nor ever belittle nor ever escape.

Others write of doubt and darkness.

Others write of meaninglessness and quiet.

I write of indefinable and celestial gold that will forever burn bright.

I write of blood thirst that is never satisfied. I write of knowledge and its price.

Behold, I tell you, the light is there in you. I see it. I see it in each and every one of us, and will always. I see it when I hunger, when I struggle, when I slaughter. I see it sputter and die in my arms when I drink.

Can you imagine what it would be like for me to kill you?

Pray it never takes a slaughter or a rape for you to see this light in those around you. God forbid that it should demand such a price. Let me pay the price for you instead."

Vittorio may be a fictional vampiric martyr but I think there is a lesson to be learned in this poetic bit of prose: Anne Rice is a closet gnostic. And she, like all of us, is perpetually 'under construction.'

Chemtrails- personal home vids!!

This footage was filmed in Lakeland, Florida at 4:45 pm on 12/29/10. I opened my front door and looked up into the sky. There they were, plain as day.

This set of videos are shown in chronological order. I had to shoot in several segments(eight, actually) because I was walking around down the street trying to find the best angles with the sun where it was at that time of day.

I wanted to splice together all the vids but haven't had such great luck in the tech department with it. Just watch the vids from top to bottom and you'll see it as it's meant to be seen.

There are a total of eight vids but I'm only listing the more vivid ones here. Check out GU's YouTube channel to see the rest. www.youtube.com/user/GnosticUnrest

These were shot right outside my front door.





These next two videos were filmed an hour later, driving into town on Highway 98North at 5:45pm.

When you hear me say, "remember Key West?" in the vid right at the end, I am referring to the same type of aerial spraying done around the time my father was stationed at the Naval base there. The huskier voiced woman you hear me talking to is my mother. As you heard, even she could immediately tell there was something unnatural about them. She pointed out the difference between contrails, "mare's tails," and this mystery soup stuff up there in a grid-like pattern.

The reference to Key West goes thus: in the 1980's the story leaked out that the military planes were doing what they called "population mobility experiments" in relation to sickness and evacuation or trends in movement. When you're attempting to study what people will do in a bad situation- do it on an island. People who have limited escape routes will automatically panic the worst. Pandemic studies, they're called. My mother saw and experienced them first hand. According to her, they never did 'fess up to what was in the stuff that was sprayed but only stated that it was 'viral' in nature.



In this next vid you can see the sheer size of these chemical tracks in the sky when driving in a moving vehicle and when compared to buildings. Very sharp footage. There are literally NO OTHER CLOUDS in the sky except for these chemtrails!!



I have noticed an interesting trend about chemtrails just in my own local experience-- right around two days after chemtrails appear, it rains. Hard. Like, a gushing downpour of kitties and puppies from the sky. Anyone else notice this or have experience with it? Very odd this time of year, even for Florida.

Democracy vs. Egyptian Pharaoh

Like a lot of you, I have been watching the news concerning affairs in Egypt the past few weeks. Found some enlightening pictures online, too!

Today in an article: Asked about U.S. President Barack Obama's counsel for him to leave office swiftly, Mubarak said he told him, "You don't understand the Egyptian culture and what would happen if I step down now."

Yeah, buddy. I know what you mean. All those youngsters today below the age of THIRTY! What the hell do they know about what's good for them? They see the world going to shit all around them and lo and behold- on YouTube and Facebook there are concepts totally unheard of in their hometowns. Of course they're jealous.

They see us enjoying the ability to kiss whomever we want without sharia law prompting acid being thrown in your face. Or Googling(I hate the fact that this word is now a verb) information on anything from illegal whaling practices to Justin Bieber. (ACK. I can't believe I just wrote that.)(The last part. 'Cause he's just kinda weird looking with the whole 'I just got swirlied' hairdo.)

In any case, Egyptians are pissed. Jealous mad pissed and they have a right to be. Thirty years is too long to have one guy looking down his hairy nose at you. The people have spoken: with Molotov cocktails no less. And spray paint. And when the spray paint and alcohol ran out they resorted to throwing sticks and stones. They haven't let up yet and to them I tip my hat. They deserve the right to choose their representatives.

These pics were priceless, although the political implications in a few of them did leave me asking quite a few questions and none of them good.

Very cute. I can totally see the resemblance!

As opposed to Argentina or some other South American country hide-away? hmm....

Catch that sign in the far right? It's about our beloved White House couple. Here's the sign blown up a bit bigger:

"Game over Hillary. Obama stop supporting Tyranny." Or is that Tyrants? Kinda fuzzy. But the effect is the same.

It's not the message on the signs that have me worried it's the number of pictures I saw with Muslim women looking awfully pissed off in their hijab. I think we should be very concerned with the power vacuum when Pharaoh leaves office.

I'm sensing that Egypt is going to become the new South Vietnam.