chanting of the ever-circling skeletal family

Fractured visions of an open prison coming into focus, unsustainable materials to the expendable horizon.

…Worn fingers rattle the worn keys as a grey nothing sky has light drizzle fall over slate rooftops in an ‘unusually warm’ late October…

…/// The Minister for Information hangs disembowelled from a subsiding flagpole as gaunt workers are herded into pits, jet-washed with petrochemicals and set fire to.

The President is on the screen, dribbling and mangling his sordid words, his foetid maw undulating sickly between the pop-up advertising bubbles for additional content, fundamentalist Christian worship centres, arms expos and (your very own children being molested by ingrates).

Sacks of body parts are being unloaded from container ships as jaded shoppers are encouraged by halfwits in NBC suits with cattle prods to browse for white goods between the carcasses of refugee starvation victims.

Advertising space on the new border wall is going fast; hundreds of miles of pop princesses, beautiful alabaster white skin, baby blue eyes; just enough curves for the fat white rich rapists, just enough teen for the family values witch trial grand wizards’ ongoing abuse pageants. White bread privileged teens calmly loading assault rifles in their COD approach to small town high school blood bath under a beautiful spring morning sky.

Islamist fanatics greedily saw off the head of an embedded journalist under flickering generator lights in a Machiavellian tunnel complex, just hidden from the grasp of western intelligence agencies.

National Security computer mainframes loaded with sex tape revenge porn snuff jail cell execution double features and enough petty drug deals to sink the whole schooling system. Financiers writhing in bad debt print-outs folded into paper boats to float out into oil fields running tidal over native reservations.

‘…Our lord and saviour, Jesus Christ, dunked in a vat of urine by a homosexual…’

Greasy Hollywood mogul fingers stuffed into the mouths of disassociating rape victims. Hideous death dream of the one thousand year casting couch in flames. Left-wing protestors hosed in acids, beaten with clubs and violently arrested, as Klansmen march unhindered into the White House, shaking hands with the most sadistic reaches of Government.

Glass mirror towers to the heavens harbouring greedy, ruthless, white pieces of shit, sulking behind rosewood tables, idly fondling their secretaries, their tumours and their colostomy bags.

A series of photographs of the future Prime Minister gleefully fucking herself with the trotters of a dead pig, surrounded by her drunken school peers, egging her on, showering her in cocaine, while a cavalcade of poor and homeless types are boarded up into a derelict tower block, forced to starve and subsequently burnt to death…

…towers of asbestos insulation walling in flames///

Snapshots from the terminal field, broadcast via propaganda outlets, parading as fake news, acting under the auspices of shadow government agencies, operating behind fields of advertising agencies, marketeers and board room executives…

…all signs are pointing to a global scheme to make sure the rich outlive the poor. Bottom line beyond the bottom line. The workers will work and die at the factory. They can be directly reprocessed at the factory. This eliminates many costly steps in their exploitation.

Buy all of this garbage and believe all of this nonsense; whatever you want to think the agenda is, it is not.

Welcome to Annexia.

 

jamesreindeer
26th October 2017
London, England
VI.VI.VII

insidious utterances of the grim witch no.1

a dead, lifeless face, ripe with basic dishonesty, stares into the camera, as if a dismal puppet, or marionette for the depraved… we will support brutal dictators the world over…… we will sell arms to them, help bolster their oppressive regimes…..

we will turn our backs on our peaceful neighbours and help create new borders where they had previously be broken down……. her nasty countenance twists and contorts as she spills her evil and lies like foul bile being purged from her twisted and contorted guts…

we will help spread racism, bigotry and xenophobia…….. we will crush public healthcare, transport and education……. we will make sure that not one britain ever learns a second language or sees themselves as equal to the rest of the world……….

we will sodomise the heads of dead pigs and writhe in the blood of sacrificial children, we will completely dismantle any last traces of what could once be described as civilisation, culture, or even hope……..

……….she fixes her gaze one last time on the lens and stares, her elongated death stare, her lifeless, poisoned insect smile, insidious, sinister, evil…….

6|6|7

modernity hymns no.3

replacing the idle hour with the corporate regime, taking the human out of humanity… marketing and advertising, invisible indoctrination, a band of ogilvy’s parade alongside feminist torches of freedom, pressed white shirts, eye patches; edward bernays chuckling from his celebrity booth…

we are here to replace raw existence with political games… make every resource a number or a debt… choke on our fingers, writhe in the blood of the lamb… taste of the corporate body and drink the economic eucharist wine, make the world your adversary… let your policies do the talking…

we will sanitise and synthesise… plans laid-out over the finest rosewood and mahogany boardroom tables… bloated pieces-of-white-shit, tailored in hugo boss sign white papers and fantasise of young girls and younger boys; preach moralistic agendas and try to coerce reality according to the revelations…

cop cars patrolling; thugs with shiny badges and guns, ready to murder, execute and torture on the drop of a dime… patrolling city blocks like vultures or carrion crows… pools of blood along worn sidewalks… we aim to take the civil out of civilisation… turn every person into a code without a name…

burning oil rigs pour plumes of black smoke columns into the endless night, endless radioactive materials spilling into the oceans… we side-line the mind for the digital program… rape and pillage, pollute and desecrate… eat it, shoot it, kill it… sell, sell, sell… fuck ’em all then go to hell….

6|6|7

trump after inauguration no.4

sweden! …a thousand white piece-of-shit beer guts in baseball caps grunt and cheer… a duped mark is wheeled up onstage, all out of breath and out of time, freshly printed propaganda shirt… make amurikkka the ultimate police state again… a fallen star is born, mayhem and gang-rape in the aisles… 2% beer, corn dogs and foot long sandwiches of raw human waste…

this administration is running like a smoothly-operated death machine… IBM computers calculating KZ throughput as guards draped in finest hugo boss sip from their fanta bottles, reading fuchs news telling of great progress on the mighty wall… a hundred thousand mexicans flogged half to death and then brutally drowned in holy waters of the rio grande… boots in backs, tears in eyes…

watch him grab her aggressively by the pussy and leer close into her face… tangerine grimace, oily saliva, licking his lips, breathing through his nose… tiny shrivelled white piece-of-shit cock in his satin draws… aching cocaine uselessness and empty, soul-less sorrow… protracted octopus handshakes ensnaring their disgusted prey… being pulled into the vile slab of amber flesh and idiot stupidity… bleached grin of the bloated ignorance demon…

the world is a mess… the world is an angry place… mothers and children trapped in poverty in our inner cities… rusted-out factories scattered like tombstones across the landscape… the world is as angry as it gets… and from this day forward it is going to be amurikka first… we must protect our borders from the ravages of other countries… and we will be protected by god… a hundred thousand severed hands and feet form of mountain of flesh, soon to rot under a chemical sun…

6|6|7

trump after inauguration no.3

the sinister grin of the tangerine dictator beams out from hundreds of thousands of ornaments of servitude as toby keith sings his little ignorant, racist heart out… black lives don’t matter… mexican lives don’t matter.. muslim lives don’t matter… queer lives don’t matter… poor lives don’t matter… a military drone sails high above a group of protesters, soon to be hosed in pig fat and fed to the dogs…

if she wasn’t my daughter, i’d probably grab her by the pussy and have her urinate all over me, every single day; until my interest or her beauty waned… thousands of column inches of fake news spiralling up into the sky like an all-new vj day ticker-tape parade, making amurikkka great again… strange fruit, gang-rape on the mason-dixon, oil barons and daisy duke… shock and awe lighting up your world like the 4th july…

we the people, jet-washed in kerosene fuel… set fire to… a glorious barbecue for the one per cent… holy-wood liberals throwing their toys out of their prams from their ivory towers, private islands, fleets of vehicles and vessels… draped in gowns and jewels… carbon footprint of the rock gods forever shrouded in the fog of their celebrity… starving children too weak to idolise anymore…

let us hand you your next one hundred years… peak oil, famine, rising tides, the war for fresh water… military drones flying over war zones back home… black helicopters, riot police, terror and celebrity… your children were not born free… a greasy fat bloated ageing white man sitting naked in a leather chair, all belly-guts and body odour… greedily stuffing his fingers into the mouth of a young black girl in tears…

6|6|7

celebrity genocide in the reality fields no.1

torches for freedom, exploitation and mind-control… celebrity genocide in the reality fields… greasy fingers of the most-famous stuffed liberally into the mouths of idiot-children; taught complacency, narcissism and self in a media-field of the vapid, vacuous and beautiful… painted faces like abortionist clowns…

don’t protest, don’t vote; remain docile… look at everything that we have done for you… teenagers taught to clutch their electronic ornaments of servitude, all flickering lights and photoshopped sex delineation, devoid of meaningful purpose, quiescent and unengaged… innocents gang-raped into submission under neon lights…

sordid dreams of our holy advertisers, marketers and benevolent media… hollow meaningless death in the intellectual void of the machine behind the glazed-eyes of the soul-less celebrity mask… sucking satan’s cock for the corporate shilling… reduced to meaningless puppets, devoid of real life…

mahogany table eucharist rituals… drink of the blood capital, taste of the corporate body… a brutal race to the bottom, agony of the lowest common denominator, perfectly capturing the optimum wound profile…  celebrity is the lieutenant of exploitation, and we are all next… diseased tongues lapping at the rotting offal…

6|6|7

 

 

jeremiah iv : 23-27

i beheld the earth, and, lo, it was waste and void; and the heavens, and they had no light… i beheld the mountains, and, lo, they trembled, and all the hills moved to and fro… i beheld, and, lo, there was no man, and all of the birds of the heavens were fled… i beheld, and, lo, the fruitful field was a wilderness, and all the cities thereof were broken down at the presence of the lord, and before his fierce anger… for thus saith the lord: this whole land shall be desolate; yet i will not make a full end…

– jeremiah

6|6|7

fear incantations from the western lands no.3

surveillance drones sail high above the demilitarised-zone… insect buzzing behind insect eyes, following the nazca line blast-wall corridors circling the green zones… checkpoints, defence forces, border patrols, la migra… machine guns and flashlights out across the swamp-lands, desert lands, over the hazy moonlit delta… wheeling bodies into the pit,  clouded in cement dust; creeping existential panic…

a hostile world, slowly rendered meaningless, one which no one any longer truly understands… systems expanding and contracting; deplorables, carcinogens and pharmaceuticals… guerrillas storming the lobbies, black helicopters hovering over downtown, five percent nuclear war; game theory statisticians clawing at the disparate data strands as superstructures buckle under the weight of a thousand detuned mass dampers…

fear incantations from the western lands… controllers, operators, mannequins, idiot boys, doomed girls; decay, collapse and burning body parts… cities of the brave new world in flames… throwness, lostness… fire-bombing, carpet-bombing… child soldiers bleed out on field hospital folding beds…  embedded reporters lying to themselves as the tanks roll in like doomed centipede columns… tyranny, war, mind-games… coup, putsch, junta, regime change…

6|6|7

blood-letting and the virgin bride no.3

new jerusalem measured in cartesian geometry as technicolor fears and lucid doubts swarm with distortion out through the rusting valves… agony in the welding pit, turmoil on the shop floor… grand visions of staged reality built on a beautiful lie, now flooded with polluted ideas and strewn across fields of unexploded ordnance…

life as a series of bland background entertainment shows; live on stage ideologies… ritual blood-letting of  the virgin bride… policemen in parallel lines, idiot-boys, wild-girls… conflict, starvation, agony, meaninglessness… the screens steadily flickering through the cerebral cortex, psychotropic trips in an ongoing noise-field of paranoia and isolation…

centuries of self-harm… glass and steel monoliths rising from the desert in the dawn’s early light…  jagged knives against the city sky… greasy fingers plying their trade over mahogany tables; insatiable lust of the pension-funds… a figurehead in flames, captains of bled-out industry; tea dances and ballroom masquerades… this earth no longer sacrosanct…

6|6|7

war reports from new jerusalem no.3

here is the new jerusalem, the glorious inhuman rite… dead insect eyes staring out from endless grave-sites… fields of nothing, forever, the policeman inside our head choking us to death… water-torture, terrorise; ambivalence in waves… steadily reducing civilisation to nil…

the children were conditioned to kill, the authorities cower in fear; pissing themselves in pits of corrupt sins… those games from the old-world battles and wars justified once again; a requiem of infernal sodomy… dancing demons in the oil-pools; diabolical suicide pacts, mass graves, mass genocide…

the governments served as theatre props, the guise of order, systems in place… operators pushing buttons, reacting to the flickering lights… no one understanding, no one in control… the poison keeps on coming, business-blood inside the veins… money-hunger drip-feeding power games…

dream-death scar the broken, primal screams inside the war zone… sleep-death covers the fallen… innocents chopped to pieces by the war machine… four per cent growth, cheap white goods and nazi-trump crusaders… pain incantations, nausea, salvage… fake it, fuck it, fight, fight, fight…

6|6|7