The superhot photoshoot would have been ideal for those two but…

https://str8upgayporn.com/sergeant-miles-trump-gay-porn/

Malik is a Capitol police officer. As he proceeds to secure the area, he catches seditious Kaleb in AOC’s office, which the poor thing, leaving behind a salad she had barely touched, had fled from in a hurry to hide in the sub-basement, fearing for her life. Kaleb is only wearing an ample fur coat à la Jason Momoa in the undervalued Frontier. Underneath, he’s butt-naked…

At first, Kaleb looks embarrassed. But then he starts frantically flashing at Malik, who just can’t believe his eyes but quickly realizes it is his solemn duty to strip-search the intruder. Since there’s no resisting Kaleb, one thing leads to another, till some deranged shaman passes by…“WTF ?!” he thunders, “so that’s where the taxpayer’s money goes… Right into the fucking rabbit hole !”

“Come and join us”, Kaleb sensually moans. “What ? I’m no faggot !”, the real man replies. “Neither are we, moron !”, Malik grunts. At that moment, one of the hope of an entire generation’s female assistants, who had forgotten top-secret documents on her boss’s desk, barges in : “Right in front of AOC’s salad, guys, really ?…”

“Even better ! Fuck Mindgeek’s new policy !”, Malik exults. “Hell yeah, now we’re talking ! Come here, kitty, kitty !”, the shaman acquiesces, as the big guy in the room keeps pounding the willing arrestee. “Look, guys”, the nerdy underling with an excruciatingly teeny tone interjects, “I have no time for this. You can’t imagine my workload right now !”

“Tell us about it !”, Malikaleb groan in choir…

***

Featuring :

And more…

Modern Illusion of Lewd Ontology…

Pennywise on the wall. Floating. Like a mirror of our guilty selves. Pennywise the voyeur, concupiscent, staring at the once innocent pumpkin’s spectacle, unable to look away, mesmerized, as if welcomed by the young magician, frail but powerful, triumphing. Closer to the gateway now. Ever closer… Ground zero lending itself to the refined ballet of a silky feather lightly whispering into the dark, giving birth to culpable tectonic thrills accompanied by sardonic laughter. A gang of five playing the harp till, in between chords, one of the thugs grows intrigued by the beyond. Then a second. A third maybe, if nature is generous and malleable enough the playdough. Permutating, making waves, rotating with due consent. Shapeshifting forms, firm yet tender, dirty, classy, playing tricks on the clown’s feeble mind… Juicy strawberries and honey awaiting. Sticky scrubland honey, making the cloth harder to cleanse. Edging infinity and a thousand kisses. But, to avoid an overdose, not one more. Rivers of milk hanging in the air as a shiny tower, ephemerally overlooking the landscape, sighs with sensual agony, saluting its double on the other side. And vice versa. Come here, lucky child. Scream for me. I’ll bring about your little death. For if here is over there, then I’m not here. Or am I ?…

The grid indeed (#1579) …

… the one which none of the well-known pioneers ever bothered, to my knowledge, to specifically address, at least not if you consider “geometric hallucinations” to be a most inadequate characterization of it, which was probably meant to describe but what it actually expressed anyway, namely forms shifting at the speed of light, generally perceived as extraneous and therefore distinct from the very stable schematic, almost worthy of Interstellar’s depiction of an infinite outer-space network, that concludes the journey, which, in a way, would be reminiscent of the VR grid at the end of a much more confidential movie from the nineties, The Thirteenth Floor, were it not for the fact that there are no curves in this one, only perfectly straight lines in some kind of all-encompassing ethereal realm of which the subject is not a remote observer but an integral conscience within a conscience, emancipated from the confines of trivial reality but, at the same time, somehow encapsulated in a structure that is not merely the phantasmagorical projection of the body, but rather a moving alcove that is part of a transcendentally complex whole which may – or may not – be radically deterministic. Far from any hallucination, it is a very sober perception, one which the seemingly profane Ψ-Magisterium© would undoubtedly label a DSM-heresy were one to venture to openly dissert about it. But would that, in all cases, be only out of ignorance, or could it also be, in some instances, because the guardians of the temple are of the opinion that such knowledge should not be divulged, much less talked about ? At the end of the day, one has to wonder whether a similar experience, say, two centuries ago, could objectively lead to identical perceptions. To put it bluntly : the ethereal realm has probably always been a parallel constant. But has the grid ?…

Screen bullies.

I’m pretty.

I’m pretty sure.

I’m pretty sure those screen bullies would.

I’m pretty sure those screen bullies would stand on the sidelines.

I’m pretty sure those screen bullies would stand on the sidelines and amuse themselves.

I’m pretty sure those screen bullies would stand on the sidelines and amuse themselves if it all were to happen again.

They would all be playing jokari, for years in a row, since that would be “ze only game in town”…

But their way of playing it would be so refined…

Am I black ?

Am I black ? I’m not.

Have I been abused by privilege ?

Do I know what it is to be black ? I don’t.

Have I been treated like an outcast and harrassed at every turn ?

Have I been subjected to institutional racism ? I haven’t.

Do I know what a tyrannical bureaucracy is ?

Do I have to fear for my life like most Blacks do overseas ? I don’t think I do.

Have armies of zombies been doing their best to deny me my life ? Have they been cheerfully contemplating my death ?

Do I want to be black ? What a stupid question !

Do you want to live in-between worlds ?

Right, but don’t I want to belong ? To what exactly ? And to what end ?…

“Charming, though beyond the understanding of the vulgar”…

Outside the box… formally

I like them

You know their more

First you guess !

There where questions or…

Maybe you answer less

Think, know ! it says

That you give them,

Even wanting with what !

Not yours that you…

Do permission ! God thinks…

People with next nobody

That where something

Not yours… do others !

Most was than that,

That we should,

Want permission, should know…

Should we be able to, God ?

 

 

https://www.diepresse.com/605390/eric-schmidt-in-fahrt-die-markigsten-spruche-des-ex-google-chefs#slide-3

 

“Interwetting each other”…

We two boys together clinging,

One the other never leaving,

Up and down the roads going, North and South excursions making,

Power enjoying, elbows stretching, fingers clutching,

Arm’d and fearless, eating, drinking, sleeping, loving.

No law less than ourselves owning, sailing, soldiering, thieving,

threatening,

Misers, menials, priests alarming, air breathing, water drinking, on

the turf or the sea-beach dancing,

Cities wrenching, ease scorning, statutes mocking, feebleness chasing,

Fulfilling our foray.

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1322/1322-h/1322-h.htm#link2H_4_0066

quartz crystal

« Plus est en vous »

Masturbating Meinungsführers

Creators of the wonderful

Hither and thither

For the ignorant masses

Multiplicating knowledge infinite

Where hides the music

In your catechetic pornography, proud and vain ?

None there seems to be, not even silent, that I can hear

All you erudite hammers hammering

In the unquiet void…

Eclipsed by truth

To be followed,

Where are your questions ?

 What do you stimulate,

Organic highbrows

Of one hegemony the other fighting

As ever childishly

Encaged, enchained by vulgar chimaeras ?

Exhibitionists of an ego that is all about ideas,

Is this the meaning of it all ?

Is this it ?

Is this at all ?

Our being

 

https://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Werner_Heisenberg#Onzekerheidsrelatie https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Observer_effect_(physics)

Of the terrible doubt of appearances,

Of the uncertainty after all, that we may be deluded,

That may-be reliance and hope are but speculations after all,

That may-be identity beyond the grave is a beautiful fable only,

May-be the things I perceive, the animals, plants, men, hills,

shining and flowing waters,

The skies of day and night, colors, densities, forms, may-be these

are (as doubtless they are) only apparitions, and the real

something has yet to be known,

(How often they dart out of themselves as if to confound me and mock me!

How often I think neither I know, nor any man knows, aught of them,)

May-be seeming to me what they are (as doubtless they indeed but seem)

as from my present point of view, and might prove (as of course they

would) nought of what they appear, or nought anyhow, from entirely

changed points of view;

To me these and the like of these are curiously answer’d by my

lovers, my dear friends,

When he whom I love travels with me or sits a long while holding me

by the hand,

When the subtle air, the impalpable, the sense that words and reason

hold not, surround us and pervade us,

Then I am charged with untold and untellable wisdom, I am silent, I

require nothing further,

I cannot answer the question of appearances or that of identity

beyond the grave,

But I walk or sit indifferent, I am satisfied,

He ahold of my hand has completely satisfied me.

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1322/1322-h/1322-h.htm#link2H_4_0050

crystal ball

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2405896317310601

https://collider.com/devs-questions-theories/

Enigma(s)…

Forest Lily

In the sentence “they killed us both”, “they” stands for…

 

1/ Opus Dei and the ancestors of Aleister Crowley’s Strange Angel Circus

2/ The fat Chinaman and gravity

3/ The Council of Elders of the ancient civilization that created the hologram

4/ The Jarring Evolutionary Villains, a.k.a. J E V Vs (Doubling the ‘v’ was a private joke…)

5/ God, from a non-gendered perspective that requires the plural form

6/ Evil pigeons

***

SARS-CoV-2 is…

 

1/ A way to reconnect with nature

2/ A symmetrical answer to the tragic events of the second decade of the 20^th century (Franz Ferdinand followed by the Spanish flu) : world war ahead…

3/ Your momma, bitch !

4/ “Fuck y’all” in bat language

5/ A particularly abstruse acronym devised by the elites to bring the economy to a standstill and get government “money for nothing and cash for free”

***

“Injecting disinfectants” is a way of…

 

1/ Irritating the PC-“left” as portrayed in “The Hunt”

2/ Violating Biden’s Doctor/Patient-privilege in front of the cameras, with Homeland Security in the background

3/ Holding up one’s end of the bargain, as negotiated by Don Jr. (“You wire $ 500,000 to our secret Delaware account, my father says the thing and then you jump in contradicting him in a free publicity stunt… Deal ?”)

4/ Sending a Special Ops team standing by on the Venezuelan border an encrypted message pertaining to Maduro’s cocaine production

5/ Paraphrasing the act of love when boosted by Blue Boy

“Search and destroy, soldier !”

Robert Tippet hated government. He didn’t hate any specific government; he hated the notion : however less and less, government impeded the Strong in their natural right to do whatever they like. But he also knew it was a very valuable tool to get things done. He knew Bill and Paul and Dick long before they joined the Democrats, infecting them a little more in the process; he was a true patriot. And he couldn’t stand what the country had become : “I hate this place, this zoo, this prison, this reality – whatever you want to call it. I can’t stand it any longer. It’s the smell, if there is such a thing : I feel saturated by it”, he often told his wife before going to sleep. She ended up taking it personally and ultimately they divorced, but that’s beside the point.

He also had an intricate relation with some of the most prominent corporate moguls in the country, and even some foreign ones. Together, they formed a network of which he was an enabler of sorts. A secret society at the margin of a not so secret society within society. Crème de la crème, in a way. Were it not that their cream had turned sour : they all despised John Lennon and what he stood for. And when he died at the age of 78 or something, they even threw a party : one less hippie to worry about…

To them, the goal was to make America great again. And there was nothing they shied away from to try and reach it. The Vermont power grid hack ? Their doing ! The attempted assassination of Greta Thunberg in the middle of the Atlantic ocean ? It was them ! The poisoned cheeseburger that provoked one of the worst presidential diarrheas in U.S. history ? You guessed it ! Pelosi and Schumer ? Them again ! There was literally nothing they didn’t feel they could accomplish…

Robert Tippet had hoped it would, as always, stop at the other side of the smokescreen and at the lower end of the food chain, but he realized that, this time, as far as the latter was concerned, that was exactly where he had landed. He knew they would soon be coming for him. As for Jupiter and the others, they had reverted to their gaseous forms. Some irony… The hawk was about to become the sacrificial lamb. And for what ? He was only a believer…

Transvoyance

la plénitude

l’ éther

un guide

un chemin

le mystère

l’art

la vie

le droit

C’est faire abus de l’esprit de justice que de travestir le droit par capitalisation de sa méconnaissance par l’autre.

C’est faire abus de l’éthique de l’homme que de l’enchaîner au droit.