Skip to main content

Great is the Red Head


This woman.  Driving without clothes or care is hurtling toward sexual disaster in a white sports car.  Her red flowing hair waving in the wind.  As she insanely drives into the unknown.  She, the great attractor.  The grand eye catcher.  She will change all those who ponder or gaze future events.  Those that get a good enough glance, stare into oblivion's beautiful face. 

The HER.  The SHE is.  The red and well read.

These Psycho sexual properties of Biblical and secular voices.  These great words of future gazing attraction, induces a sense of pride to word-smiths and all her reader's.  To tell us, the actions of the great glorious female called Futura. 

Futura, which is also a Fox cartoon program, is grand female form. That hopes to inspire women and men in the meaning of what is to come.  This information, is what cuts us off from those who seek her eagerly. Listening to her red whispers or SEE what SHE is lighting. 

A minister, priest or president who walks and talks prophecy.  Using it all the time.  He will also become used.  Using the word form to create a grand transsexual metaphoric figure to empower the people.  The men who do this, find themselves wearing black or white dresses. Gowns or nice suits of cotton and ~poly-blends to enhance the power of their prophecies. 


The word -- prophecy itself excites, even the most chaste of Christians, they will always turn their righteous heads.  This great vision of the future that will begin to distort their very lives.  The men and women who start to believe these words of prophecy, that belief itself alters all. ~They desperately want to marry or to get a personal glance of this famed red headed seer. 

Many have been deceived and motivated by these sea symptoms of denial.  Those immune to the palm readers, prophets, and tellers of what is to come.  Are usually those who have already gained a considerable amount of mammon, or money.  Wealth shrouds one in a immunization against this great Red.  Rich men are not, taken off the road of their lives to listen to the future.  But they are also weary of being seduced or worse -- fooled.  So they too, keep an golden ear to the breast of Futura's utterances.


The rich don't believe what they hear.  Because they stored for themselves 'silos of gold' and are satisfied. ~But they unknowingly start to fulfill her prophecies.  Men begin to witness, in the actions of their rich neighbors or friends the fulfillment of pet predictions.  This attracts and excites the masses, they start to preach everywhere. 

Now adding to the mystery is the preachers become active in these prophetic events.  They, the preachers, want us to do or not do something or else be somewhere different --in our lives. 

If we turn a blind eye or numb ear to them -- the preachers.  They begin to call us names like --Sheep, asleep, zombie or just lazy. 

So they will post something new on the WEB to say... I KNEW.  To all the others.  And in this great deception it gives them hope, their lives are not in vain. And they too have purpose.  

So on and on, people predict all manner of things.  But all are in vain.  They all lack one thing, originality.  Most events have already been reckoned.  Now the only thing that is lacking is the exact way it all unfolds. When one, hits upon a set of events that person becomes empowered to continue predicting.  This gives him less accuracy by predicting more and more events but gives him great power if he hits two or three of his bold predictions.


This liar's dice game is endless...gamblers and Wall street traders are looking for the same glorious key that will lead them alone to their financial or spiritual evolution.  This is the greatest of all false doctrines.  Futura, is in their pockets and in their pockets-- alone.  They see red and call it money but debt is all that she whispers sweet red nothings to come, in their trusted golden ears. 

Now pay me tithes and taxes or 'this and that' will come about.  It's spiritual and financial black mail.  This is the day of worship not that day.  On and on, because if one does achieve wealth or understanding from this process it will come at a very great price.  This price is not the soul.  But their very weary lives. 

The 'winners' who listened to her whispers, will be transformed into a rich and all knowing god.  But few will get this great honor.  You already know their names.  Captains of industry, inventor of lighting and hearing devices. Even the guarders of crazy secrets in the flying saucers, flirting above our heads.  Some see what is to come as a fun adventure.  While others dread, the manacled leg SHE drags, towards their every changing moral lives. 

New machines of new knowledge, scars the truly moral and the immoral alike.  For both are in the exact same camp waiting for the party to be declared over. 



A great-- "Get out of the pool!" -the Lifeguard in the Sky shouts, yelling at the nations, "It's over!" 

This is just the Psycho-Sexual self talking.  A golden box, unfolding into a flat cross of guilt upon the moral tables of our minds. 

We tell ourselves softly, "We should not look upon her, we should not gaze into her eyes...
 "Who?"  Someone asks, "Who should we not look upon?"

It is HER the great read of our lives.  Whether it's Revelation or Nostradamus, it's all the same. ~Standing in the harbor, turning from contagious copper into glorious green. ~Lighting our way to the shores of proper prophetic prosperity.  As her giant feet rests upon a mighty sea of green, all the while it's turning a sickening real RED of greed

They all call her, "The Great Red head, Futura!  The Grand Gorgon monster of debt's liberty and despair."

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Steve Jobs Legacy: ART and the Angel.

Apple the King of the Quants!  Or maybe just the womanly King of Marketing.

  I loved to say Marketing is just War King-ing.  People from sales and marketing seem always to be the King.  The King of what?  Money and Promotions.  M & P. The only real scoreboard!  They run companies.  Usually into the ground.  But not this Apple Lady.  She is Warring with herself instead of the competition.  If there is any.  Android has got the numbers, of course but fallen Macintosh label seems to made of Teflon...sort of.


Since Steve Jobs' NeXT and the marriage of the NET with this product we all use for everything--except blogging.  Weird huh?  The Sm-Art Fone.  Is a wonder, a homophone that takes ART to a new level-- a NeXXT level.  One more thing...
Pardon me Galaxy lovers.  Ahh'mm.  But it still took my wife a solid year or so, to convince me to dump my beloved Razor flip phone.  Remember the Razor, I know you do! 

Steve Jobs invented careers from thin air and always in silicon.  Hi…

BitCoin --The New PHARAOH?

Is it too much to chew or a new Bandit come to rob us. May a new Band-aid for the Binge mind set of a Netflix--not so jet-set? What's different about BitCoin-- nothing.  Is it Skynet?  Or a blessed blue baby of hope?  Nope.  100 or 1 hun-dread people will read this but only a prophesied child yet to be born, will one day listen and come to understand what BitCoin is and it is not.
 In a new GALAXY far far---here??


It won't be a financial force to be reckoned with yet. Or a new tech tornado, it certainly won't be the new Steve Jobs in algorithmic clothing.  It's Egypt all over again and just in time.  Edger Cayce's, eager false predictions of the Sphinx are well-- here...not just yet.  As usual. 


A scientific conspiracy theory just in time for the J.J. Abrams set---who are LOST.  Lost in a sea of social network and New York Times faux news.  BitCoin-- it's here.



It's sounds like an Arcade.  And it is.  Yeah, silicon dudes.  Go find an old Space Invaders or ZAXX…

PRAXIS...the big YET!

MY PROCESS IS...
LEARN FROM THE TOP, IN THEIR RESPECTED FIELD, MODEL/COPY FROM THE BEST AND OUT PERFORM THE REST.



I was asked in a interview one day...What is my process? This was very unexpected for me and needless to say I had nothing to say. I ended up stating,"...a pencil and white sheet of paper."

 The young interviewer stated, " Mr Atrocity, that's not a process." I stated, "...yeah well there you go." He said "Mr Atrocity," like I was twelve and I had just given him a very disappointing answer. I could almost hear him nodding through the smart phone with bone cracking displeasure.


That was the end of the interview. 
It became a Praxis moment....a paradigm shifting question for my mind and soul.

What is my process? 
Why did that question make my mind go blank? Why in the hell did that question above all others cause to me to short circuit?

I asked other people about it and they gave my glowing answers on what I should have said.
Then …