Paranoid Alien Radio: January 2013

Life in a Crude Oil Lagoon

Jan 1, 2013

Flames were leaping from the parapets, as the the old Crusaders’ Castle burned. The citizens of Aleppo might have been amused, except for one little thing.

The economic heart of the city operates out of the many shops and bazaars which have grown up in the lower levels of this castle, and in what used to be the castle courtyard. As a result, the bazarris, the leaders of the city’s middle class, have lost their livelihoods.

It is a disturbing portent. It must be admitted that the approach of the end of a Mayan Cycle which seems to be the equivalent of the Hindu Kali Yuga had filled us with some very fine hopes. But just as so often before, we are beginning to fear that all of these fine hopes shall only pave the way for a profound disillusionment.

The Fall of the Old World Order

As they watched the old citadel burning, the middle-class citizens became increasingly disillusioned with their government. It might be true, as government spokesmen insisted, that the Crusaders were at it again. In fact a very good argument could be made, that the suicide bombers who had ignited this conflagration had been duped by the CIA. But it was also a fact that until very recently these suicide bombers had been good Syrian citizens. They had been loyal defenders of the marketplace. That is why, when they finally allowed the gnawing feeling that they had been paying their taxes to Satan goad them into action, they were able to strike so effectively.

We have become accustomed to believing that the world is under some evil spell, and that if only we can kill the right dictator or evil magician, life will become rational again. But this is a way of evading the reality, that our own passions for vengeance are of the of same substance that gives strength to the sinews of that evil spell.

There is an evil spell – you may call it Taghoot, but that is just another word for Sanctimonious Denial. We have indeed ventured so far into this realm of Great Denial, that we have convinced ourselves that it will take the intervention of some external power – perhaps the Turks, perhaps the Great Satan, perhaps even aliens from outer space, to restore the rule of justice and make things turn out allright.

These Very Pious Hopes

A very pious hope – but are we not ignoring the intervention from which we have been benefitting all along? Of course we are willing to die for our Prophets, to prove ourselves worthy of being in the company of the historical Imams who were their most faithful followers. But can we really blame this war on the Prophets – do we dare ascribe these outbursts of hatred to the Prophets? Can it be the lust of the Prophet which reduces a civilization to minefields and gravel? Or can it be that human leaders have dared to marry their own passions to the Prophet’s name?

Perhaps the nightmare shall go on until we confess that we now have experienced the meaning of the warnings of the Prophet concerning a place where we would have only boiling water for our drink and only pus and gore for our food. Eventually, we shall need to listen to the women who try to tell us through their tears, that Hell is what you get when you try to mix compulsion with religion.

Too Much Crude Oil

There is too much Crude Oil in Arabia, and petrodollars have done nothing to enhance the purity of Islam. What the Crude Oil Brothers have done, is to cover the social diseases of their puppets in the all too familiar white sheets. Just as in Birmingham, Alabama, sadism shall masquerade as orthodoxy. Nevertheless, we must not forget that religious biggots do have souls. The reason they are using religion as a crutch, is because their souls have been withered by the cleft moon of historical trauma.

These fanatics shall end up crying for the women and the children, until at last they shall come to realize that they should have listened. Oh yes, that Crude Oil Currency tasted like honey in the mouth – but what a stomach ache it gives you, when you see the things that currency has bought.

Can it be a coincidence that petrodollars have persuaded the Islamacists to become fanatics who persecute their more reasonable brethren? Maybe these Islamacists should ask Pancho Villa how Bonapartists frack a religion by raising up pious hypocrites who are both infallible and rigid.

The tears of the women shall prevail, when at last, men’s visions of The Compassionate One urge them to peace and reconcilliation. Which is, of course, exactly the thing that the Crude Oil Brothers most fear.

These Crude Oil Brothers are the present incarnations of Aryan Gods who are far more effective than the Iranians in silencing their women. Or at least they were until the Domestic Violence Ladies began to remind the Christian Church that adultery is not a sex act but rather the betrayal of a partnership.

Perhaps it is their shame which prevents the Shiekhs in white sheets from confessing their sins to the congregation, so that a true Islamic Liberation, a Liberation which shall not be founded on religious compulsion, can finally begin. Perhaps the day shall come, when these Islamicists realize that they have been caught in a snare by the Fox, and that they are being manipulated like high school punks by the real out and out gangsters.

Addictive Orthodoxy

Art degraded, imagination denied

War ruled the nations

(Wm. Blake-Laocoon)

Perhaps there shall come a time when these Islamicists shall put away their guns and come to America so that they can witness to the great and powerful just what it is like to live in a place where hatred has unleashed so much brutality that everyone is drinking scalding water. Perhaps they shall someday be able to teach us of an Allah who prefers that we should serve life by helping our brothers and sisters survive. When people choose to fight by committing suicide – there always is a question of just how universal they want that suicide to be.

“Art degraded, imagination denied, War ruled the nations.” Two hundred years ago, William Blake foresaw what we now deny at our peril.

Damascus saw the flowering of the Peacock Screen, and thought the Alchemy was coming to a climax. But when the beautiful vision began to ferment, it turned into a poison which one dare not breathe.

It is a cruel alchemy. Perhaps at one time there were fine hopes which rose like the Peacock’s Tail – but right now the city is burning.