Kabuki dance in the theater of the damned III


Kabuki dance in the theater of the damned III

Kabuki dancing with Gomer Pyle
Kabuki Dance in the Theater of the Damned

“Those who make peaceful revolution impossible, make violent revolution inevitable.”
-John F. Kennedy

“The illusion of freedom will continue as long as it’s profitable to continue the illusion. At the point where the illusion becomes too expensive to maintain, they will just take down the scenery, they will pull back the curtains, they will move the tables and chairs out of the way and you will see the brick wall at the back of the theater.”
–Frank Zappa

“In individuals, insanity is rare; but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule.”
–Friedrich Nietzsche

“When any nation mistrusts its citizens with guns it is sending a clear message. It no longer trusts its citizens with guns because such a government has evil plans.”
— George Washington

“It is difficult to free fools from the chains they revere.”
–Voltaire

“Give me control of a nation’s money and I care not who makes its laws.”
–Mayer Amschel Bauer Rothschild

Act 1

The Red Kabuki theater was brightly lit with many Red Kabuki wannabe’s, all debating who of the many should don the funny hat and robes of The Red Grand Poobah. When suddenly, from the back of The Theater of the Damned, a White Knight on a white horse, crashed through the doors. His finely trained warhorse prancing, strutting, spinning, and then, jumped up onto the stage. The crowd went wild, at last, a Contest!, a Show worthy of us! they cried out. The White Knight dismounted, and everybody saw he had a great sword and a Great Trumpet, and he raised his Trump and blew a Great call, “SLEEPERS AWAKEN!” , and all the Red Kabuki wannabes cowered in fear. “He’s not playing fair!” they whined, “He’s not nice.” they cried, “He’s not one of us!”, they screamed at the top of their lungs, “He can’t talk about THAT STUFF…” they whispered among themselves. But the Audience had been awakened from their long slumber, and wasn’t listening to them anymore, all they heard from them was “same stinky stuff, different day”.

The Blue Kabuki’s, well, there were only really, two, and one was dressed in pink, for he would not claim himself to be a true Blue Kabuki, he only shared an occasional beer with them. But, we couldn’t have a coronation in this country, we had to have a Dance! A show! We had to at least give the audience the Appearance of a Contest!

In reality, under the stage, little blue kabuki rats were scurrying around, making sure to chew the wood in the stage underneath the pink Kabuki wannabe, and he did, in the end, fall through the rat hole of rot and corruption, leaving only one, who was given the funny hat and Robes of the Grand Poobah of the Blue Kabukis in a great, yet hollow celebration. For few noticed, because the lights were low, that the seats in the Blue Kabuki theater were, kinda empty.

The many Red Kabuki dancers, instead of debating issues and ideas, were now arguing and throwing things at each other and making speeches about the same old stuff everybody was tired of hearing. Yet the White Knight was speaking truth to power, and saying new things, things everybody cared about yet had never heard before, and a great gasp erupted across the theater of the damned. Everywhere in the theater, the Voices of the Damned, the Gomers, hillbillies, and the now politically profaned white people, who had designed the Theater itself, whom the Blue Kabuki called The Irredeemable Deplorables, heard The Trump and were waking up out of their lifelong slumbers, whispering to each other “Who is HE?”. They became angry at being called ugly names, ‘Racist’?, ‘Deplorable’?, White nationalists’?, what’s a xenophobe?, they asked.

The Peanut gallery, in the balcony above, frowned and whispered among themselves, sighing a collective “Huh? He’s not allowed to talk about THAT stuff! He’ll give away The Game!”. They whispered and mumbled, and cussed and threw hissy fits, they laughed, they decided among themselves, that this, person, could not be allowed to be a Kabuki Dancer, for how could he be a Kabuki Dancer, if he did not believe in the Kabuki Theater, if, gasp, he could not be bought, bribed, intimidated or threatened? For the Peanut gallery’s main job you see, was to maintain the Illusion of Democracy so that the men behind the curtain could pull the strings of the Kabuki puppets on the stage. But in the corner of the balcony, there was a little fox who said “I’m of two minds.”, and the rest of the gallery sneered.

Who was this White Knight? The Audience screamed in ecstasy, delight, horror and confusion, ‘this is no kabuki’ they thought… so the peanut gallery delivered, showering the White Knight with handfuls of fecal coated peanut shells, hoping to bury the White Knight in a mountain of stinky sticky chaf, surely The Audience would see?.

But, you see, the peanut gallery only talks to others in the peanut gallery, so they couldn’t see that the Audience was angry and very bored with ‘same crap, different day’. The Audience was hypnotized by the White Knight. So the mountain of stinky sticky chaf simply slid off the White Knight leaving his armor shinier than ever, and with his mighty sword of truth, he pointed it at the peanut gallery, and a great light came forth, and out of that great light came an army of little tweety birds filled with light, and were loosed upon the theater of the damned.

The Audience, in both the red and the blue theaters, were horrified, and saw the faces of their damnation, when the darkness was lifted and a little tweety bird whispered in their ears, light bulbs appeared above the heads of all the theater goers in the great middle of the theater, the right side cheered, and stomped and clapped, and laughed at the peanut eaters, as the faces of ugly lying demons staring down at them from the peanut gallery were finally exposed.

Suddenly, the theater of the damned was filled with light and it morphed, like magic before their eyes, the red kabuki wannabes, their red costumes dissolving, revealed a class of clowns holding suitcases filled with dirty money standing there. The only one left was The White Knight sitting atop his beautiful steed.

In a grand thunderous celebration the White Knight dismounted his horse, walked onstage out of a doorway of light, and was handed the silk Robes and funny hat of the Red kabuki Grand Poobah. “It doesn’t really fit!” he said, so he donned a baseball cap and threw many similar hats out into the Audience, who were shocked and squealing in delight.

Act II

The theater was dark, with two lights shining down on the Red and Blue kabuki dancers, the damsel in distress, named America, was tied to the railroad tracks, crying, while the train was coming closer, ever closer. The dark theater was filled to overflowing, those in the left side of the theater were drinking champagne, smoking dope, sticking pins in little Red Kabuki dolls, molesting kids and otherwise throwing a party before the Main Act. They just knew the Blue kabuki would win, they knew because their number shamans were never wrong, were they? They were chat chat chatting away on their little tiny screens in front of their faces, their whole Universe was reduced to those little tiny screens, their humanity, morality, had been reduced to a collective mind, and those who were not connected to the Hive Mind, well, they were deplorable, their opinions unworthy of discussion among The Sophisticated Ones. They had truly become cyborgs, nothing but neurons in the collective hive mind of the Blue Kabukis, listening only to the Voices of the Peanut Gallery and their number shamans, who laughed and told them there weren’t enough Gomer Pyles to make a difference, and they Believed.

The right side of the theater had many faces in stern contemplation, watching the numbers of votes, state by state, on the big map screen above the Kabuki dancers, it was early in the evening, and it appeared, that another Blue Kabuki would be celebrated into the Peoples House, the Palace on Pennsylvania avenue. But, this was no surprise, ‘everybody knew’ The People wanted the Blue Kabuki, since, really, “it was her turn”, wasn’t it? Besides, The Red Kabuki was a racist Cad, wasn’t he? The Peanut Gallery said so, and so it was, “really, trust us”, they said, “party on!”. Only, the Right side of the theater was silent, in contemplation, and filled with righteous indignation at the Blue kabuki and the peanut gallery, for they did not believe anymore. After Bill the Blue Nafta Kabuki brought economic war and tied the final knots of the damsel on the tracks, came the Red Shrub kabuki who brought the so called Patriot forever war, and then came Barry the Blue Caesar kabuki that brought internal chaos, racial division grew strong and everyone was forced into insurance servitude, or else face the IRS, and the land of the free had become the land of lies, and the lower the unemployment numbers went, the higher the unemployed became, as they saw the Blue Caesar kabuki, take vacation after vacation, understanding dawned across the breadth of the Theater of the Damned, in the left, right, and middle isles, that the white Knight was right; WE WAS HAD.

The battle between the Red and Blue Kabuki dancers was vicious, more vicious than anyone had ever seen. The sword of the White Knight with the Red baseball cap, danced and swung through the air as the sword of globalist darkness thrusted and seemingly parried every blow. “Crook!” says the White Knight throwing the Blue Kabuki back on her heels, while reaching down with his mighty sword, and in the space of a blink, straining in the middle of the fight, to thrust out towards a knot of the damsel tied to the railroad tracks, and he swiftly cut through a knot. “He cut a knot!” screamed the great middle, as the right side of the theater roared “Lock her up, lock her up!”. The Blue Kabuki was sweating, her white makeup running down her face as she desperately attacked the Red Giant, but for every strike she landed upon him, the wound was healed like magic. The Red Kabuki, parried and thrust his great sword of truth, and again, spun around and cut yet another knot as he swore and yelled at the top of his voice “LIAR! CROOK! THIEF! GLOBALIST!”, as the Blue Kabuki was tiring, coughing and sweating, melting before the eyes of all. The great middle was struck in awe, and the right side of the isle was swooning in ecstasy, as a great cry went forth accross the theater “He cut another knot, he cut another knot!”

Yet, this time, the Great Light showed the blue rats scurrying out from under the stage into the Audience, and the peanut gallery. The Blue Kabuki’s were caught in their own trap of lies, “The White Knight was right, you cheated the pink Kabuki”, they yelled! Spreading filth and disease everywhere, a disease of the mind and body, sewing confusion, misinformation, and lies, as they have always done. For the primary doctrine of the Blue Kabuki, was the Little Book, that book of sweet words, like honey, that grow bitter in the belly. They believe in their Little Book of lies, that rot the body, and the nations, with the sweet honey sounding words of envy, with which they would force fairness and equality for all, so they could have power, forever. Unfortunately, since they were the Blue Kabukis, what they really meant was, they were selling equal misery for all by selling the Doctrine of Coveting the fruits of your labor, and the White Knight exposed the Great Lie.

The Great Lie of the Red and the Blue Kabukis, and the Peanut Gallery, were all just part of the Game of The Haves to keep The Havenots in confusion and ignorance of their true enemy. The Kabuki shows were merely part of the reality show of The Haves, who had become greater on the backs of the Havenots. The poor had become destitute, the middle class had become poor, and the well off, weren’t so well off anymore, a million bucks just ain’t what it used to be, they said. The many years of sweet words on the tongue, like honey, had grown bitter in the belly. So the man on the white horse, speaking words of salt, was like medicine to their souls, having become rotten from too much sugary lies and they now understood, their America had been tied to the economic railroad tracks awaiting the train of Globalism to finish them off.

Act III
At the end of the match, the Blue kabuki was beaten, bedraggled, and simply worn out with the effort of fighting the White Knight. She was no match for him. At the beginning of the last night of The Contest, the peanut gallery, with their blue colored glasses, were braying like donkeys that she had won, despite all evidence to the contrary. The match, was being decided in the Theater of the Damned as millions of Watchers went into their little booths, and dropped a red pill or a blue pill into the palms of The Counters.

When the counting was done, the White Knight cum Red Kabuki had won, by a landslide. But the peanut gallery could not bring themselves to say the word. The Blue kabuki’s whined and made excuses, it was ‘The FBI’s fault, it was the Russian’s fault, it was ‘fake news’, it was anybodies fault except the Blue Kabuki’s. The Blue Kabuki, could not even present herself on that night to concede to the White Knight, no, she sent out her Chief Councelor to tell the crowd to ‘go home, the votes are still being counted’, while she, threw a hissy fit in the hotel room, throwing things and screaming, hugging her teddy bear and coloring in coloring books, and crying in little blue kabuki fits to the point where the counselors knew, she could not be presented on that night, for she was wasted away and drunk as a skunk.

In the end, the Blue kabuki’s and their peanut gallery had fooled themselves. They thought that only talking to themselves, and agreeing with each other, and crunching numbers, was enough to fool The Great Gomer, for they were only a bunch of ignorant, racist, and deplorable hillbillies, right? They thought things would be as they had always been, that they could buy their way into the Grand Poobah’s seat in the People’s Palace on Pennsylvania Avenue. But they were wrong, they fooled themselves, and their excuses only made Gomer smile from sea to shining sea. ‘We see you, the real you.’ said Gomer. ‘We understand all too well’, Gomer smiled and laughed. ‘Traitor, liar, crook’ as Gomer stuck his middle finger in the air across the country with the cry ‘Lock her up!’. But the White Knight cum Red Kabuki cum Grand Poobah of All The People, merely deferred, magnanimous, humble in victory, had no desire to humiliate her, seeing she was beaten, and broken.

You see, many Red Kabukis are still mad because the White Knight beat them, and The Blue Kabuki’s still think, they won because their rats and their roaches brought in more blue pills than red pills in the few places where they run things, and still they cry ‘We are more popular, it was the FBI, and the Russians!

And sadly, they are more popular, in those massive and corrupt stack and pack metropolis rat holes they call home. Yet Gomer was everywhere else, and Gomer came out of the woodwork, having never dropped a pill before, or having dropped blue pills their whole lives, to make sure that the Blue Kabuki was finished off, for good. And the cry of Gomer was heard across the land, in sort of drawling hillbilly laughter;

Surprise, surprise, surprise!

And a Great Sigh of Relief was heard across the Theater of the Damned; Thank God its OVER!
It was over, or was it?

Epilog

Well America, you think “Thank God, Its over. Now we can ‘Move on’.” The Kabuki Dancers lost, the Knight on the white horse won, yet remember the original article on “Kabuki dance in the Theater of the Damned”? At the the end of the Kabuki play in Act II if I remember, the Red and Blue Kabuki dancers swapped their robes for Purple, the Royal Purple. What did we see play out on election night, or rather, the day after? The color Purple on the LOSER and her Husband, this was a signal. And all kinds of unconfirmed rumors now circulate about some dude named Soros backing and paying for all these ‘anarchists’ that are now going to “burn white America down”.

God I hate it when I’m right… Many of us have been saying since Clinton I, The Shrub, and especially The Black Caesar, that you see the attack on WASP culture right before your eyes coming from both the left and the right. But now, we place our faith in the White Knight, so I do pray to God, that ‘they’ don’t get to him. I also pray that he can do what needs being done, what he said he would do, unfortunately, he will not be king, so there are many things he will not be allowed to do. And he has many enemies within the Red Kabuki club, for they are bent on world domination, and it appears, with their Blue Kabuki allies, a war with Russia.

The White Knight goes into office with the entire establishment against him, the Blue Kabukis are even demanding impeachment, within the first 30 days of the new administration… rational thought is on vacation in Washington D.C., animalistic fury is on full display. How can the White Knight succeed, when even some of ‘his own people’ are against him? Does Washington care about the country, or their agenda, maintaining their Global “Full Spectrum Dominance”, and expansion into a global government? How can the few nationalists left win against a globe of globalists? Are we seeing prophecy play out in front of our eyes? That The Last Trump gives a message to the people of God, yet, the Beast wins in the end… for a short time, and then, The Final Battle?

If you accept that from the beginning, then you will be less disappointed. America is a Republic after all, at least, for now. A presidential candidate says many things to get elected, but this one was obviously different. Hillary has no soul, she is a plastic person who was trying to talk about what her ‘circle’ talked about, and trying to sell it to regular people. She told us that turds could be polished and picked up by the clean end, and nobody bought it. For the White Night, spoke truth to power, told us what we were all thinking anyway, that we had been screwed by the Hillaries of the world, and he awakened the sleeping masses of us ‘deplorable racist hillbillies’. Hillary screwed up when she called us those ugly names, but, socialists can’t help themselves, their ideology is their religion. Their ‘religion’ is the ideology of coveting, the anti-God religion of The Left, and no matter what she did or said, she couldn’t hide it. America’s eyes had been opened, and Gomer Pyle came through loud and clear; Surprise, surprise, surprise!

It warmed my heart to see Charles Krauthammer so thoroughly humbled, because he said “there weren’t enough” of US to make a difference. Well now we know, there are… we made a difference, but just barely. Now we get to see if a peaceful revolution can make any difference. For that’s what it was, it was a ‘phenomena’, that became a ‘movement’, that morphed into a peaceful revolution. But, here in NC, they made it hard, for the first time in my over 40 years of voting, the powers that be, removed the big R and D, at the top of the paper ballots which read “Straight party ticket”. They removed the ‘coattail effect’ in NC, and Mr. Trump, still won. This was done to the ballots by the Republicans, who controlled the State Board of Elections. They just KNEW Hillary was going to win, so they attempted to remove HER coattails… and it backfired on them. Why? Because they believed their own bullshit, and didn’t trust the people or The Times they were in. They did not have ‘eyes that see’, and were blinded by The Light of the Media’s echo chamber. McRory was a victim of his own machinations, if he had simply trusted us, he would still be governor.

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About Piper Michael

Originating soul of the Unified Field of God, given as a gift of God to a humble Piper. A man who searched the garbage dumps of science and religion for 40 years, in the search for absolute truth. The Einstein-Enoch Equation is the result of the Quest for the Holy Grail.
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One Response to Kabuki dance in the theater of the damned III

  1. Hans says:

    “And he has many enemies within the Red Kabuki club, for they are bent on world domination, and it appears, with their Blue Kabuki allies, a war with Russia.”

    But what else is possible when all has been preordained by “The Theory and Practice of Oligarchical Collectivism”? After all, “We’ve always been at war with Eastasia”, haven’t we?

    Since the play ended, and the Blue dancers have turned from the reality in their make-up mirrors, denial has been expressed as was forecast long ago:

    “The horrible thing about the Two Minutes Hate was not that one was obliged to act a part, but that it was impossible to avoid joining in. Within thirty seconds any pretence was always unnecessary. A hideous ecstasy of fear and vindictiveness, a desire to kill, to torture, to smash faces in with a sledge hammer, seemed to flow through the whole group of people like an electric current, turning one even against one’s will into a grimacing, screaming lunatic. And yet the rage that one felt was an abstract, undirected emotion which could be switched from one object to another like the flame of a blowlamp.

    Unfortunately the “two minutes” has now grown to 1440 minutes in each diurnal cycle. There is no time left for rational behavior in the Theater of Washington.

    As Billy Beck said many years ago:
    “All politics in this country now is just dress rehearsal for civil war.”

    Lock and load … keep your head down, Piper.

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