My Dinner with Stygian Port [3]

As I’ve been mentioning, Stygian Port and myself have been collaborating, and by collaborating, I mean talking about nothing and everything. For now, I’ll be releasing these “meetings of the minds” [i.e., dinners of/with “andros,” in other words men who are not gynic] as podcasts. Stygian Port has released his write-up of the [un]historic occasion [in stereo on his site]. More of me on Saturn’s Day. {*4}

Before you hit start on the below player, I would strongly advise that anyone under the mental age of twelve, keep far away [that would be somewhere around 96% of the population]. Listening to this show may cause hemorrhaging in virgin brains. Come to think of it, this episode probably shouldn’t be listened to by anybody.

The podcast will surely offend a few many people. But, seriously, if you’re the kind of person that’s easily offended, then (1) don’t listen to it, but (2) should you still listen and become offended, proceed to go fuck yourself. Here’s a download link.

I’m sure everyone’s seen Nicole Kidman’s scrumptious ass by now, thus will understand why it’s so hard to resist. If you haven’t, or need to again, here it is.

Devilicious? Perhaps. Actually, if you stare at Nicole’s ass long enough, you might be privy to see/imagine a stinking brown turd coming out of it. That, would put your mind in the proper context to appreciate this end product: Australia (2008). For those in doubt, here’s a scene that I missed upon first viewing. The little boy grabbing Jackman’s finger, and the [scripted] methodical reaction that followed:

The camera zooms in on Jackman’s “finger” as it slowly rises from slumber to full-mast rigid. If you’re one of these people that thinks this scene was somehow missed or overlooked during the repeated dailies and edits this film went through, and accidentally “slipped through,” then, well, you’re a complete fucking idiot.

The Carney Cattle Company featured prominently in this film. Their logo, could well be converted into a sygil with minimal effort. Perhaps, that’s already been done?

I must also thank a guru of mine, for appraising me long ago, that there may in fact be a deep occult reason why the clock is set to 07:20. Below, is a related scene from Jennifer’s Body, “Needy” cleaning Jennifer’s regurgitate off the floor.

Of note, she said “cleaning the carnage off the floor.” For some reason, it resembled “oil.” Black gold? Texass Tea? That will make some sense sooner or later. Here’s the related “carnage” from the Simpson’s Zombie episode:

Burger “Squared?” Well, every festering turd has a few nuggets in it. Part of it is advisement of the aware, the rest is a methodical plan to make humanity a willing partner in its own destruction. There’s good reason why films like The Watchmen (and many other apocalyptic films of late) are reMinding us, “You deserve this!”

As came up in the zombie post discussion (Bring Out Your Dead), Australia is Oz and vice-versa. Here’s Kidman’s impromptu “random” story that “chanced” on her lap.

Below, is the first view, of many, from the classic original that the flim-makers wizards chose to share with us [the audience]. Odd view/perspective, no?

Here’s a photo of “The Pearl” theater, just in case your imagination couldn’t well enough picture it. Isn’t there a toothpaste called “Peal Drops?” Coincidence!

It reminds of another “pearl” of cinematic lore, one featured in a film starring yet another “ex” [X] of the infamous Tom Cruise [¿as in to “to cruise” gay bars, right Johnny?], Mimi Rogers. It also features David Duchovny, an “x-man” of sorts, and the sexaholic [and utterly discreditable] poster child of human degeneration

Said movie, The Rapture (1991), is about swingers, sex and big Jesus’s “second coming.” The pearl, in this case, was an early sign some dude alleged to be “God” shared with Christians [X-ians], that his boy’s second coming [i.e., the “rapture,” hm, yes, grunt, oh, yes] was imminent. What a mind-fuck that movie was.

Alas, we close off with a picture of Hugh Jackass, doing a little “horse-whispering” to the referenced Capricorn Mare. Considering what Stygian Port said [in the audio portion], it should now be abundantly evident why the Capricorn Mare is black and why [¿the ass it rode in on?] is putting it to sleep [metaphorically, death].

From the Rainbow Serpent, whom/which lays/lies Somewhere Over the Rainbow, we transition to another ‘ole Nick [nicole], Little Nicky. Coincidentally, when asked where he was from Lil Nicholass said, “The Deep South.” Faraway and down.

Undoubtedly, why idiots invite the evil into their house every Winter Solctice (milk & cookies), and why your children not yet ready for the MTV watch “Nick” at Night. Thanks to a random comment from a lad named Dave, overheard at my [XIX] bar:

She said, ‘How’d you like to waste some time?’
And I could not resist
When I saw little Nicky grind
She took me to her castle
And I just couldn’t believe my eyes
She had so many devices
Everything that money could buy
She said, ‘Sign ur name on the dotted line.’
The lights went out
And Nicky started to grind

The above lyrics are from Prince’s “Little Nicky.” Analysis should tell you she was far more than some random slut he encountered. Of course, this movie had a few requisite X-boxes and dialogue cleverly disguised/masked for the idiots watching.

If you watch the basketball scenes, it [the process of watching] becomes extremely painful, for those who give a shit about the fate of mankind. The wizards make it obvious that the dumb-jokes (e..g, the Wanda Sykes one-liners) are aimed at [making fun of] the same idiots who may enjoy the movie. And then, revelation:

The above scene is cut to immediately after the devil says the above line [exactly what my Burning Ring is surmising]. As a bonus, the man dumb-fuck in the middle is wearing a [spirit-trapping] grid pattern shirt. Even the Matrix showed us [via the underlying story to the aware], this “Zion,” this refuge for humanity, just happens to be located in the center of the Earth and coincidentally, looks a lot like hell.

Well, so much for the “Jew Control Theory.” Those sad sacks have been just as brainwashed as everybody else. One of my readers pointed out that Chicago is located in the 60606 zip code and has tons of demonic architecture. Coincidentally, Chicago established itself as and financed its growth through the business of “meat-packing” [that’s a double entendre] and animal torture/slaughter. Hence, for billions upon billions of animal souls, Chicago has long been “Hell on Earth.”

Little Nicky informs us that Chicago (the band) albums played [ass] backwards, offer up some interesting invocations. Leads me wonder why they call the place “Chi-town.” Would that be Chi-Town as in Chi [Greek “X”] Town, or as in Shit-own?

In case any are confused, the film took place in NY [i.e., another OZ]. In my Trumanesque world, I am reminded of my adversary while Living in Rio. I called him “LA Guy,” and he was a piece of shit excuse for a human being if ever I met one. He was the kind of guy that would hug you and act like your best friend whenever he saw you, and then bad-mouth you and try to pick up your girlfriends the moment you’d turn your back on him; omni-present, womanizing and yet clingy [¿needy?].

One night, I [from NYC at the time] and my mate, Sam from Australia [seriously, I am not making this up], came close to beating the crap out of that fucker. A passive-aggressive mutual friend, would just make a point of asking, every time we encountered said person, “So, when are you leaving Rio?”

The point of the story? He [dipshit] was the son of one of the members of the band, Chicago. There’s more to the tale, but alas, before I moved on from Rio on to locales North[east], a drunken “LA Guy” who had a habit of patting guy’s on the ass, as I came in from the ocean, tried to take it one step further with me and get a quick probe in. In other words, he tried to “check my temperature.” {*1}

These days, I have heard many a media-fed moron use the phrase, “Checking the Oil,” which is a far more lurid, and disturbing “twist” on the former, as it implies “digging” in quest for something. Alas, the above promo of Kim Kard[ash/ass]ian, courtesy of Grace, who uses her vision to “see,” may show exactly “what.”

Note the extremely specific placement of the shadow of the nozzle/head of the oil rig. Drilling for Oil? Texass tea. I think I’m gonna vomit. Argh, words entrap me.

The above scenes are serious overkill of numerology and symbolism. Considering I mentioned KK [11:11] earlier, it’s worth noting that the K line in Manhattan was closed down in 1988, and that the movie was made in 2000. In other words, the wizards put it there for good bad reason. Of course, Nicky had a gay roommate.

The above, and below scenes are from “Heaven.” Wait, so the entrance to heaven is through the Vesica Piscis? Sex is Death. More vagina symbols please?

Speaking of, we all know what one has to do to earn their “red-wings,” one trophy this Rebel can proudly claim his personal case deficient of. But now, I ask you Adam Sandler, what exactly did you have to do to earn your Pink Wings? 👿

To transition from one movie to the next, we move right from the rear pink man-ring to the female one. Below, is our [the audience’s] introduction to [or, first exposure of] starlette Anna Farris in The House Bunny (2008):

Years of programming, has convinced [i.e., mind-fucked] the average bunny that movies are disconnected unrelated independent efforts. Just the other day, some idiot accused me of making it up [my blog] for entertainment and shock value. How do you reach someone like that? Quoth The Rebel, “I don’t bother.”

The [upper] above caption is the one mentioned [in audio] from Little Nicky, while the lower two [above set] are from Jennifer’s Body. Yes, lots and lots of fucking rabbits. Below, is the main “hole” worship shot I referred to from this movie. Seeing that it [the montage] is dedicated to Lucy, I would guess that is the front hole; the one that lies “somewhere beyond the rainbow,” also known as “death.”

The follow-up is our heroine’s response to her prostitute cell-mates. Yep, keep repeating that to yourself Shelly. All that matters is that you believe it. Same goes to all the other playboy bunnies, bunny wanna-bes and pretty much every girl on this planet who whores herself out for drinks, drugs, a chance to sit in ViP, or on a semi-permanent basis in exchange for a carbon rock [aka, a “diamond” ring].

More bunnies. More V’s. More sixes. And alas, just like in Little Nicky, Shelly and her fellow revelers seem rather excited and happy to find themselves in HELL.

Wow! Shelly shops at the same store as the [other] chubby balding gay guy from Little Nicky? That is unfuckingcanny! For the benefit of one cryptic Eugene, they do seem to emphasize the “Dou” in Doughnut. He may have a clue as to why.

In other news: IBM’s been assigned the task of predictively programming the sheep that “the grid” is gonna be the new internet. The below scene is from Jennifer’s Body, when the heroine delves into a book she found in the “scary” [I said “Boo” mother-fucker!] Occult section of her school’s library [a mind association game].

The House Bunny, coincidentally, had its own “virgin sacrifice” ritual as well. By chance, the sacrificee happens to be tomboy Natalie, played by Emma [sync-like-a] Stone, the tomboy “virgin” star of that twink-fest known as Zombieland.

Shelly’s proud of her body and displays it brazenly. Of note, it would seem that to most people who might care [the males in the audience], only get to see her back-side. Which, IMHO, is quite nice, but cuts right to the agenda.

Females [in the movie], are the only ones who get to see her vagina. Silly rabbit, pussy’s for girls. Yes, there’s good reason for that, and that reason isn’t “chance.”

And they lived happily ever after! But, perhaps I misinterpreted the first time around? The new math: “an asshole” + “a cock” = “the new pussy.” True Love!

We didn’t really get into Dead Girl (2008) that much [a little pun intended], but the agenda is making “pussy” a dead thing to males. Guess they’ve got another hole in mind. Anyone care to venture a guess as to what that is? Hm, and perhaps, judging by some of the images that have now invaded your mind, I’m helping them?

The above [right] scene is from eXistenZ, and pretty much supports precisely what Stygian and I talked about. If they create a new hole in the human body [in the case of Cronenburg’s movie mind-fuck, as a game-port for virtual reality], people will shortly thereafter be programmed to lick and fuck it. “Hey Jude, don’t make it bad.” Um, is there a little revelation of your acting talent taking place there?

Thus, we end up in Jennifer’s Body. Ever wonder what lies Behind the Green Door? Do you really want to know? I created the above image as something fanciful, for my [and your] amusement, plus the movie strongly supports my original recrafting.

But, you’ll have to make up your own mind, whether I stumbled into something more, after looking at the below series of [real] ads from [innocent] days gone by:

Coincidentally [well, at least somewhat in this case], when I logged into myspace yesterday, I found myself face to face ass with the below image. Thus, I gotta ask, does that pair of jeans, worn by our dearest back-door “queen” Megan Fox, come with “skid-marks,” or is the lucky winner gonna have to pay extra for that?

I jest, and I don’t. I can only recommend you watch the movie for yourself. It really is an amazing piece of work, put together/subtly crafted by geniuses, to cater to degenerates [i.e., your friends and neighbors] and “truth-seekers” alike. It is one subversive piece of artistry, and tells me, that people involved in the project either read my blog in detail, or I am fucking on to something/everything:

In at least three separate [unrelated] movies now, I’ve notice these “X-lamps.” My mom’s been in the home design business for ages, and to this day, despite my having been yelled at for daring to suggest/joke at one time, that she was turning her business into a lamp store [it’s because they are a royal pain to unpack], I have yet to see a single X-Lamp come through that place.

There are plenty of “X-boxes” and “Xs” in this movie, central to both the plot and subplot. For those in “the dark,” here’s the first post where I talked about them.

Heck, it even makes a point of telling you that the two girls, Jennifer and “Needy” had been friends since the days spent in the sandBOX [¿from ashes or dust?].

Taking it one step further into my [mental] breach is the DK (in this case Devil’s Kettle), and my prior supposition that the sigil, ala the Dead Kennedy’s logo, is somehow connected towards bridging across/cutting through the spirit grid.

Of little surprise were the fire themes, whether foreshadows [left] or the noncritical [plot-wise at least] burning fools running about in this film. I guess I need to shift my energies back to closing off the remaining two parts of my [open] octology.

Aside from either hints [or implants] to the wise, the “box-cutting” metaphor is also a trauma-reminder for anyone dumb-enough to fall for the yarn about Mohamed aTTa’s Flying Circus [my striking conclusions on]. No, I’m not reaching, there were other subtle [and not so subtle] reminders for such lemmings. Case in point:

It was hard to hear, but the drinks Megan is holding up were called something like “911 Turkey Shooters.” That’s kinda evil. Moving onwards, or backwards, to scatological references, this film was chock-full of back-door/brown-eye memes. As a matter of fact, I’m gonna trademark a new drinking game: watch this movie with friends and every time an anus or shit reference is made, you drink.

Plan on being wasted 30 minutes into the movie. You may also want to bring lube along, just in case. Most telling, or should I say, subservient to the exact fucking words I’ve been writing about, was the below, um, observation from Needy’s boyfriend. Are you fucking kidding me? Dude, the “front butt” is called a “vagina!”

“Why can’t I get just one screw? Why can’t I get just one screw? Believe me, I’d know what to do. But something won’t let me make love to you.”

Wait, is that their way of telling us he’s a fag? Before some chance reader from The Collective interprets that as “hate speech,” I’ll add, “Don’t shoot shoot shoot that thing at me” [literally, or figuratively]. By “fag,” I don’t mean homosexual. I mean little closet twink that has no fucking business being near a vagina, and needs to stop occupying the time of girls us genuine pussy fans [i.e. guys who don’t think the pussy is a “butt substitute”], could save from being converted through the methodical disgust that builds after wasting their time with likes of the former.

“Can I mix in with your affairs? Share a smoke. Make a joke. Grasp and reach for a leg of hope. Words to memorize, words hypnotize. Words make my mouth exercise. Words all fail the magic prize. Nothing I can say when I’m in your thighs.”

He’s got a fucking “Tito Puente on Broadway” poster in his room? He’s a poofer! For the slower people in the audience, his Mom blatantly displays the tool she gave him to protect himself. Pink panic! Oh my God! Now, that’s funny!!! Hey sissy boy, why don’t you hide behind your little bitch? Oops, I mean “man substitute.”

Personally, I don’t think the below image warrants further explanation. {*2} It also dispels the propaganda put out by eugenicist whores like Planned Parenthood [and their mindless recruits/suckers] that “Hollywood, by not promoting condoms idiot wisdom is leading to more teen pregnancies” [hint: “not selling enough product”].

Ooh, time for a sex scene. About fucking time, cause my penis has been sound asleep since this move began. Well, “sex scene” may be overly generous, because it is a far cry from what the phrase suggest. Looks pretty fucking boring to me. Harsh lighting. What an unappealing camera angle [below]. That’s odd, isn’t it? Oh, wait, I know why. D’oh! The new directive for showcasing “straight” sex. Yawn!

Now, let’s contrast it to the lesbian scene that follows not long after. Oh my! How sensual. Soft delicate kisses. Close ups. Rhythmic movements, accompanied by a musical beat synced to the [pulsating] human heart-beat. How hot is that?

Her boy twink, was even scripted a line [another nail to drive the point home], asking her about those “four minutes.” So, I wonder if this will leave any kind of impact on the mind of the average twelve year old girl that watches this movie? No. Obviously not. Only a crazy conspiracy theorist would think something like that.

Also purely random, was the sequence of events after Jennifer came to the football player, the “toughest guy in school.” She undoes his pants, and just when she touches his cock [not depicted, as the camera cuts to him, and he makes that goofy boy face all of us guys make when the curious soft hand touches our unit]. Jennifer then [while she’s stroking him] asks him the below question:

Coincidentally, said lad’s name is “Jonas.” A remote connection through this pile of crap is that JB is short for Jennifer’s Body and the Jonas Brothers, who share the same feminine build and “hair-style” as the virgin Emma’s “twink” from Zombieland. You hear that sound? That’s the sound of one of the elites pounding himself some Jonas Brother twink-hole as your ass is reading this. There are three of them, so odds are, that’s a safe bet to make whatever time day or night.

Had to include the below images. The one to the left speaks to my theory of the real definition of the word “hero” [more on that in an upcoming CR/SP podcast]. Also, the whole spiel by her mother [right] syncs to another old post of mine.

There’s also the potential that “needy” serves the role of a converted truth-seeker on one level. At the beginning we’re shown her being part of the apparatus, spreading disinfo [basically, ALL news headlines]. Later, she learns for herself [the radio scene] that the media lies and confronts other “mainstream” believing morons on “the truth.” And, like many of us, gives up, realizing it is a lost cause.

Speaking of the band, “Low Shoulder,” they justified their sacrifice of the [by no means a] virgin, by saying something to the effect of, “How do you think Maroon 5 got to where they are.” I’ve never heard of that band, and am not interested.

The Rolling Stone cover says loud and clear: “This band [their music] sucks ass.” [I’m suggesting that in the old fashioned negative connotation. Did I just date myself?] Anyway, the subsequent image says a HELL of a lot about their loyalties. Note the Vescicas and the chance intersection of the V above the Double-V.

Again, I seriously doubt that either of the below scenes were in any way conjecture. Well, unless by “conjecture,” you mean spell-casting; the intentional placement of images and words to serve the goals of the wizards [servants of the priest class].

Near the end, the “BFF” bond is broken/severed. I think Stygian is addressing the necklace in more detail, so I’ll skip it [the lesbian promotion meme-lette]. The BOX–cutter is put to good use, being thrust deep into the box/heart/vagina. The blood starts to flow. Jennifer’s hymen/sliver [¿silver cord?] is broken; for good this time [i.e., “forever”]. Again, the penis/knife metaphor surfaces; just a little more overt this time around at The Holy Wood’s Box Office [Orifice]. {*3}

“City’s restless. It’s ready to pounce. Here in your bed from ounce to ounce. Sayin’ oh my my my my my mo my mother. I would love to love you lover. I’ve given you a decision to make. Things to lose, things to take. Just as she’s about ready to cut it up. She says: Wait a minute honey I’m gonna add it up. Add it up. Add it up.”

Alas, we have the discussed escape scene. Holy Butt-Fucking Virgin Mary, God-Damn Mother of the Overdue Antichrist! It really, just blows me away. Not only does she tear a hole in the grid, but afterwards tears another hole in the outer grid, speaking to the box within the box, the matrix within the matrix suggestion that Stygian and I were discussing in one of the prior shows [coming soon].

Now, I don’t quite know what to make of this. I’m not going to say it’s “good,” nor that it’s “bad.” Worth noting: she was wearing the bunny slippers during her escape [clearly demonstrated], which suggests the way out is through Lucy Für.

Two, what she does after she escapes [goes on a murder/revenge spree], is hard to justify in terms of spiritual escape, unless it was thrown in by one of the mindless, yet influential marketing people involved with the film on some level. In retrospect [post-publication], it [the end] makes a lot of “sense,” when one considers the subversive nature of the wizards [see my comment on other stereo channel].

Speaking of people involved, the credits tell us a lot, while directly reVeiling plenty. For example, they inform the audience that they are being fucked with. C’mon, are those real names or what? There’s actually some guy named Tummy Plucker? Please! I can safely say though, that some of the best minds in the business of wizardry and social engineering [the hidden hands] were involved in this project.

I highly recommend Jennifer’s Carcass. Not as a movie, because on that level, it sucks ass [literally and metaphorically]. However, if you watch it as one might watch an autopsy, and dissect layer upon layer of it, you may learn something. However, I do understand that watching an autopsy is not for everyone.

Well, that’s it for now. It shouldn’t take too long to put our other “Dinners With Andros” out, as none will require anywhere near the volume of support this one did. Let us know what you thought.

 

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*1: You have no idea how personally intimate some of the Oz themes in these films connect with events in my life, and won’t cause I won’t share them unless you find yourself sitting opposite me and picking up the tab for our drinks.

As for Los Angeles guy, I heard he left Rio some time after me. Looking back, the guy probably hated me cause we always despise that which we can’t have. Fortunately, for him, the night Sam and I were gonna “pound him,” the secondary plan was to toss him into a river of shit by Leblon [Rio’s sanitation leaves much to be desired]. I shit you not! As is common in Brasil, where “plans” are utterly meaningless, our scheme was tossed out the window shortly after we hooked up with two lovely creatures in said pub. [LB]

*2: Stygian Port reprimanded me on said issue in one of these shows, reminding me that not “everyone” has looked into the issue or read my article on the topic. [LB]

*3: The first show I did dealing with the penis as a knife metaphor was the one where Heath Ledger “twists” his thrusting dagger up into Christian Bale’s netherhole. Worth a listen. I normally wouldn’t do this, but this “black guy” should probably “help out the white guys,” who may not be rhythmically inclined to follow my mental dance moves regarding the lyrics from the Violent Femme’s “Add It Up.” To get you started:

1. the song popped into my head right after I wrote “vomit” and found myself trapped by/mired in language [“words all fail”]
2. a “city” (as in “ready to pounce”) is, per Tsarion, based on the word cetis, which is an old term for vagina
3. Jennifer’s “mother” enters her bedroom as she is dying/slipping away from this world, hence mother, lover, Capricorn and Cancer gates all present
4. “cut it up” is what one might do with a knife/penis
5. “add it up” connects us back to the closing image from The House Bunny

Don’t forget to start with the right brain/foot, else you’ll muck it up instead of add it up. The rest should be relatively obvious in relation to the context around them. [LB]

*4: I will be a guest on the Iconoclast Report this Saturday on Oracle Broadcasting. The show airs at from 1:00 PM to 5:00 PM, and I should be making an appearance, morning coffee in hand at around 3:00 PM (Eastern Time). From what I understand, the topics I will be asked about are Mind Control, Disney and Miley “are you fucking” Sirius? [LB]

~ by celticrebel on November 12, 2009.