A Good Year for the Asses [III]

I was quite pleased to have Alex Robinson back with me for another week, making her officially, the most frequent guest/copilot on the show. Officially, this was Part III of the series that commenced with Roses.

Early on we touched on the ridiculous rehashing of old scripts used to entertain the mAsses in regards to Lybia [who’s ancestors, as Barry Fell has documented, discovered the Americas long before anyone speaking AssLick, aka English]. While the scope of what went on during WWII was far bigger than a segment or two, we know one thing for certain, the “good guys,” whomever they were, lost it.

That’s the show above [unavailable], and I feel most could find something within to appreciate. Well, almost everyone, with the exception of those stuck in the unfortunate paradox of being wankstas/wiggars, while also being “truthers.”

Spent a little bit of time discussing the latest piece of rancid dung put out by the priests of Holy Wood. This limitless shitstream is a delicious pharmaceutical sales pitch, stuffed with massive social engineering, and liberally peppered with a bevy of NLP refreshers, triggers and most likely, a few new anchors. Bon Apetit!

But, every turdpile has a undigested peanut or two in it, and in this case, for me, it was the topic of how to best deal with dysfunctional women and how to be a man, a topic I touched on, but never followed through. I’ll save it for later, remind me.

The inspiration for Part III was our discovering a book called The Metamorphoses of Apuleius, also known as The Golden Ass (Asinus Aureus). This book somehow, quite miraculassly, was the only Latin novel to survive the Roman Collapse/Prolapse in its entirety. The images included here alone should fill in a lot of the blanks.

Do you think my word play is “reaching?” Really? What do they say after a financial collapse [i.e., prolapse]? That “the bottom fell out of the market.” Yea, that was brought to you by the anally focused wordsmiths of AssLick/English, not me.

The protagonist of the novel was named Lucios [i.e., a seeker of light], who hailed from the hometown of Apuleius [in other words, an apple]. Per the utterly suspect, but sometimes useful wikipedia, the occult-minded truth-seeker, had curiosity and an insatiable desire to see and practice magic, and while trying to transform himself into a bird [i.e, evolve in higher realms], he accidentally transformed himself into an ass. Who’d have thunk?

For those not familiar with Futurama, the above [right] is an image of a Golden version of the ass-obsessed robot Bender [whose name could apply to gender-confusion, or what happens to a penis as it forces it’s way into a small twisted narrow orifice/passage]. Glorious, could well sync, as I’ve said many a time, to “Gloryholes.” Also of interest: in the series, Bender was physically transformed only one other time, and as if you couldn’t already guess, that substance was “wood” [of course, what else], leading him to say, “bite my splintered wooden ass.”

It should be plenty obvious at this point, that there was little originality in the story of Pinocchio. Of course, his growing nose was made of wood. Of course, he was being “reared” by an old man that was not his father. Of course, he became an ass.

The above images fully reveal the underlying story Disney was broadasting. It’s the same old and twisted tale. Pederasty. Assholes. Hard Cocks. Holy Wood, Batman!

For those who’ve been following my work, you will realize that the Golden Ass narrative, is quite similar to the journey undertaken by those motivated anti-new world order advocates or truth-seekers, who take the westward route and find themselves sodomized, or better yet “mined” before their journey ends.

Hence, why the name Eeyore [eye-ore] was chosen for the dawn-key/done-key [illumination/elimination portal]. Yep, there’s [allegedly] gold between them there [um, two] hills. Hence, why these folks are so obsessed with minors [miners]. Probably the same reason behind the narrative [the inside story/joke] behind the Great American Westward um, “Expansion,” which is also known as The Gold Rush.

Come to think of it, the Winnie the Pooh story and characters are far too insidious to be put down to coincidence. The author A.A. Milne, has one of those double-initial names I suggested keeping an eye out for [damn you english], as well as does the illustrator, E.H. Shepard. Per wiki, Pooh Bear’s” first official appearance was in a book of children’s poem’s entitled When We Were Young (1924).

“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. “Pooh,” he whispered.

“Yes, Piglet?”

“Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw, “I just wanted to be sure of you.”

“Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.”

A Pooh Bear, to those in the know, would be an older and somewhat hairy gentleman, obsessed with young boys and feces. Those with a [handy] code book will find so many obvious degenerate references in just the below set of pictures that coincidence can safely be ruled out. The above passage, sent my way by Alex (NZ), shows but one of the early neuro-lingusitic anchors that may be unmoored when a future young “warrior against the system” [alternately, seeker of light] finds himself at the proverbial cross-roads of illumination [so they will “think”].

There is no conjecture in the above images. Even though Pooh Bear (the old man) took his sweet time to prep/lube the hole, the little boy’s anus, being “tight as a drum” [as Don’t Go West documents] was too small for him. The rest of the syncs [in this case “stinks”], are as the depraved might say, just “gravy.” Only the blind or depraved would dismiss them as synchomystic or harmless.

Going from the vagina, to oral, to anal, [as discussed] we were given the neuro-lingusitic self-instructive meme-propagating programs to make it all possible, and being too stupid to ever ask why, or anything for that matter, all went along with it. One thing seems certain, the trend devalues the vagina more and more.

Women were made active participants in it, by being given the symbol for their own desecration, adopting it in droves [some going so far as to tattoo it on themselves]. The disclosure clause was met via a subtle hint as to what it may mean; the peace, really being “a piece,” in other words, the hole[s] that whole women were consenting to being reduced to. I may as well include the quote:

“Womanwood has been prostrated upside-down on the cross, and the veil of Isis thus no longer covers the gateway to her mysteries; her womanhood exposed for all the world to see, and instead covers her face, thus preventing her from seeing her own shame.” — Celtic Rebel

Looking at Dali’s pic again, with more codes at my disposal now, I’d suspect the anal agenda, was a trojan key of sorts. Come to think of it, it may be best to leave her upside down in the times to come, because gravity is now her friend and not her enemy, seeing that her sphincter after years of abuse/neglect, is useless.

One of the main reasons The Simpsons can get away with such blatant depravity is because their average audience member is too stupid to know the references.

Heck, your average “truth-researcher” out there is no smarter. You’d be surprised how many hosts I’ve heard propagate the phrase “butthurt.” Once in a while, we are told specifically what certain codes mean, but not like anyone takes it seriously.

Perhaps, instead of taking the time to write up the show with all the words, I could have summed it all up with the above two images? A symbol does represent 1000 words, but what use is that, when due to our obstinate insistence or remaining ignorant, most of those words speak only to the subconscious of most of us?

Yes, I chose the first image precisely because I remain convinced that this Truth Movement is just as mindless, meaningless and useless as the Hippie Movement was years and years ago. The latter [of above images], I should need not explain.

I know I’ve been hard on truthers, but someone needs to be, because most of the people being led by the nose, are no closer to “the truth” now than they were 10 years ago, and arguably, many are further away from it. The example truther-mother I used probably represents many. What good will all the truth in the world do us after we’re dead, while we continue to give the same degenerate scum we claim to be “fighting” unlimited access to program the minds of our children?

Note A: Now, having read this article and listened to the show, the earlier poster for Limitless should make a lot more sense. The embedded phrases will be swimming around your head reminding/triggering the wonderful possibilities that might open up if you let the man standing behind you “enlighten/illuminate” your third eye [the brown one]. Yes, your mind is your own. :roll:

Note B: The Golden Statue sandwiched between fecally-obsessed Eddie Murphy and Beyonce, the girl who’s anus may as well read “always open,” is from the Hearst Mansion. Does that look like a woman or a child to you?

Note C: Speaking of the double-named [alleged] authors of the rancid Pooh stories: after the show, Alex realized that A.A. Milne rearranges into I ANAL ME and then it “dawned” on me that E.H. Shepard, spells out SPEARED HE. I’m sure that’s just coincidental. :roll: