Once upon a time and space there was a planet

with a geometrically expanding population

and a finite resource base. Instead of telling people

why there were so many and dramatic changes

suddenly, it was decided to REDACTED carbon

credits and abortion, homosexuality REDACTED

mobilising children to demand REDACTED

so that aggregating interlocking

of directorate just said that cow farts

didn't want new airports. Sometimes it's expedient to

say that history was your own idea, preserving

thus a shred of dignity. We got so idealistic,

don't you know. REDACTED. Marshall the influencers! “Wake

up the china!” “Wake up, Neo”. Wake up,

Everyman. Ah, winter. Time to sting the drones.

When we touch starfish they just liquify.

Even sardines have gotten tired of us.

Aha! We know! We'll put us under house

arrest and that will keep her very well.

The Science Is Uh Settled (which it never is of course)

as raggedly totalitarian decline declined

to mention, thus REDACTED silence fell REDACTED

*This is the last poem finished in New Zealand before fleeing to a freer place; and it is an appropriate end to BC AD NJ, a collection including substantial portions of this online blog portfolio but excluding some thought to be constructive but superfluous sketches or otherwise insufficiently worthy pieces; it was composed between 2006 and 2022 in New Zealand prior to fleeing the country and consists of three distinct cycles, as the title suggests.  I intend upon uploading the text of BC AD NJ to the internet archive once it has undergone further polishing. Anyone wishing to see the latest (currently the 10th) draft of the book itself can get one from trent.appleman@gmail.com in the meantime on request. Sharing rights for the book and its drafts are exactly the same: keep the book/draft sharing rights disclaimer and one's name intact and don't make a profit from it, but otherwise feel free to share at will. 

 

The Interlocking of Directorate Is Green

The East is Red

“My gown stays white

from morn till night

upon the road of Anthracite...”

Why do the soldiers have a holiday

but not the miners? Curious! For brave

boys and brave men braved darkness and collapse.

“The clock struck twelve,

the mouse ran down....”

Cheaply extractable petroleum

ran down.We ran down Sunset Boulevard

together from Tomorrowland's RustBelt-

ifying lying,or at best half truth-

ful euphemistic language, taking breaks

from all that dirty hectic resource use

& economic growth, a sort of UBI

or Universal Basic Income but

with added fear, hysteria, and lies,

these rapids of recalibration. “Ring

around the rosie,

pocket full of posies,

Ashes! Ashes!

We all fall down.”

We tried to hold onto increasingly

greased ladders but we all fell down and down.

It came back into fashion to be tough.

“Be not a cancer on the Earth.

Leave room for nature.”

Colony collapse disorder. Massive

drop in bird & insect population.

Yes, “Leave room for nature”; and for freedom.

Yes, “Be not a cancer on the Earth”. Leave

room for liberty. Leave room for liberty.

The ripples of His having come again

Before the 2^nd Coming, it was simpler far

to hide one's inner predilections with a mask,

whereas these sorting outers days we scream out what are,

at least comparatively, new wine in new flask.

The shockwaves of His Comings radiate in waves

that drown the Nephilim, drown also Pharaoh's troops

and raise His New Church morning white horse from their graves,

a head of gold, the faithful city in fresh groups

and fresh considerations, patching not the old.

He came, Friends, like a thief just like He said

He would, just as discretely as He came with gold

wed silver for the inner humans in His head.

He came not to invade the Earth with angel host,

nor with the conquest Jews and Christians thought He would,

but with the fiery teaching of the Holy Ghost,

which maketh all things new like truthfulness and good.

These truths and goods, these rungs on Jacob's ladder should

be married, which is their conjunction with the Lord,

and not adulterous. Choose your forever 'hood

with care along the way and grow to love the Word.

For when adulterous then truth and good

are bread of wickedness and wine of violence, thus

the evil and the false, the harlot's neighborhood.

Hence the commandments taught by God Himself to us.

We're going to need far more tentacles than this!

If Centre abnegation Overton

contraction led to Hard Right, Hard Left or

Hard Centre (being Far's successful fruiting), one would hope

for such a leader as the noble Salazar.

For Abnegation of the Centre leads to Overton

contraction → Polarised society → Disequilibrium.

Hard Left – Hard Centre – and Hard Right vie with the abnegation caste;

whence Stalin, Salazar, and Strident Mustache, not at Yalta but

as though. Before the silence falls, now know:

The abnegation of the Centre muffles language as

speech muddies, renders it mob-hashtag rule

instead of English, plants mines in precisely truth,

kills cities. Crumbling infrastructure – Debt –

The terrorising of selectorates and courts --

Fearporn-imbued, totalitarian Move! Move it! Move along!

hysteria – Steered automation idle people bomb –

The situation's far too complex and

dynamic for the present leadership

to even grasp! Sock puppets do not rule

but file the paperwork of tidal waves

with Globalism's Moolah (1) and its State (2),

which both not just the first will aggregate

in interlocking of directorate.

Unlike 'Reptilians', this one boasts proof!

Those stuffed shirts simply are not bright enough

or brisk enough to keep with the Earth

they 'rule' supposedly in Parliaments

and boardrooms, think tanks and foundations, but

don't actually; they're more like surfers on

our wave, and then our wave is over. They're

relieved not to be dangling from a post

who now and then might implement the Moon

and lash The People with mere urgency.

Scrawled doodle on exam room desk

We saw an Empire crash and burn.

most humans cycle more than learn,

She paints her wrath with Cynthia and Steve..

This came as no surprise. We praised

its sunset with our lips but dazed

(we had to after all, because

of the hysterical totalitarian stampede)

among the liars in our heads

He paints his envy with the face of Tom.

which suckle on our empty dreads

we see a dream we choose of love

or hate as light by shadow, dove

by owl we crumble in the room

where Jesus sword cuts through

our foreheads and our hands with flood and fire,

where we are choices in His loom.

She never ceased to paint her wrath with Cynthia and Steve,:

uncircumcised, slain by the sword.

We reap the whirlwind that we sow

be this a lifetime of mere self

a grape skin empty bottle

lightbulb's filament, a mote of dust

or prospering our neighbour's health.

Our automation phase shift looms

Watch out for hating people you don't hate!

in offices and living rooms

as mass society stampedes.

They paint their issues with your face!

True warnings happen. No one heeds,

or few. The technocratic mob

howls. Someone guiltless has no job.

He never ceased to paint his envy with the face of Tom:

uncircumcised, slain by the sword.

Elegy for the Victims of Hysterical Totalitarianism

 FEAR The humans are stampeding on the veldt,

Hey citizens! The wonderful experimental drug

FEARPORN stampeding down the interstate,

is ready, it's on special, wow! Let's do this!

FEEDBACK LOOPS in a blind panic

Look, they're lining up, celebrities

and all! There's Midwin Charles! Oh wait there's not.

Or was one hell of a coincidence!

SUBLIMINALS whilst wild calliopes galumph.

1. Unplug electric cobra. 2 Change the world.

Death to TV! Death! Death! Death! Only Death!

Men trust their Project Fear feed far too much,

endangering their liberty and mine

with mass hysterias of feedback loops,

should be detached from ever believing in

such strident 'news'. You want to make the world

a better place? Get rid of it, don't let

the vilest human devils on this Earth

not only wind you up with fear but make

a profit in the bargain! You should not

allow this evil curse to rule your house,

to lie to your own spouse and your own kids.

The marks of sin and error in the hand and in the head

 Hysterical totalitarian

humongous “Long Emergency” Peak Oil

Peak Everything Peak Population Eek!

Despite totalitarian features in these creepy crawly men

I would be more concerned about our error and our sin.

Seek Him and worry not about the mark

in hand which is the same old sin or mark

in head that is the same old error, not

some technocratic fearporn zombie film

catastrophism worry lest one damn

oneself by getting barcode, feeding kids!

It winds them up with burning fear, it rends their hearts.

May all such fearporn on this Earth be broken down for parts.

There's too much boogabooga, Brave New World...

Like smog, it can't be healthy for the young

or old or "man unkind". Fear is itself

totalitarian, but never believe

a Big Lie if you can avoid mere faith

in governments and corporations to

be affable sincere upfront and not

have interests, some inimical, perhaps,

to citizens who have a conscience left.

You have enough to keep you up at night,

need oil and wine poured in your wounds, and light!

Let's flee their clutches to our nearby calm

tranquility alertness diligence

renewing spirituality! May dawn

of timelessness within the flesh of time,

the fountain of His timelessness in us,

instruct you, bloom in you, convey you forth

in safety, well up in your conscience like

a lamp! Let not this world dishearten you.

Let not this treacherous ochlocracy's

canned cancelation cancel you for good.

Let not this stampede with a million eyes

surveilling all with not cabal but mob

suspicion, roving revolution, Rome,

stamp over you with hooves of cesium

and technocratic sacking of Bastilles,

and anarchic surveilled swiveling eyes!

O Lord, open their eyes that they might see

the nurturance and light you showed to me.

Lest gentle bread and subtle wine die out,

degenerating into eating bread with care

by measure, drinking water (wine too) with

astonishment, may God blow on the coal

of His Church in the wilderness of here

and now; that gentleness may prosper here

as in the Heavens not the bread of night

and wickedness and mourning; and that wine

and not the wine of violence of the lie /

the error / the distortion may light up

this labyrinth with glory, inmost breadth.

He rides the horse of understanding in the Word

beyond the flicking surface angel's flaming sword.