The Cockney Translater!




Hello brainfartians isn't it smelly at the mo.

Did you feel the hiccup, easily explained.

The coin flipped over, the reverse is happening.

Everything will undo itself in the reverse of how it did it in the first place.

Should be fascinating.






Angry small brained scared isolated people will curl and shrivel as the civilized take over.

The inbetweeners get a go, I don't know about you but the people caught in the middle have always been a nice fun bunch, they dance, sing, do everything.

While the rest use the subsequent fall of energy to survive in the hive.

The balance has tipped the nasty will not be nice, so they are getting cut off.

The people that just want to live and survive, fulfill their own program, so fulfilling our universal goal.

No more war, the next idiot that causes a war will be finished quickly by all, more want peace all over than want war, that’s the struggle you see.

If you want rights, all must have them.

whether you like them or not.

For you to have yours.

As the energy leaves the husk, you must resist to prolong their suffering, don’t feel sorry for them don’t look back.

It’s not your doing it’s theirs, if you reach to help they will drag you with them, for spite.

The politics of the now is doomed, take a picture today, the chaos, that is perfect.

The foolish involved now see it as the time to be involved, but they remind me of the people that willingly went off Niagara in a barrel.

Fame and power at any cost, instant attention and hang the consequences.

Just please notice us.

It’s not a calling for them it’s a plea.

The company's algorithm saw your timing and slowed it down to be more conducive with its own.

You depend on that timing if you’re caught in the infinite trap of content renewal.

Spiraling talentless gaunts, marching the next battery to be emptied in front of the ever smaller camera, while they talk in an ever bigger microphone.

Let’s play a game with them,

watch how they constantly reposition the everbiggermic, how they fiddle with it, for constant reassurance.

It’s the equivalent of preening, watch when they do it.

It’s during times of anguish and elation.

See if you can tell which is witch.

Oh an‘ of course as all in here have witnessed they all read.

So the winkle they play with will feel sticky to the self-conscious touch, now, won’t it.

Hahahha.

The best move now would be acknowledgement.

Let’s see who has the real honour among them.





Meanwhile in my neck of dingleberrywoods the lurkers lurk, that’s opposed to what they call themselves if caught, then they become the watchers, according to them.

They lurk to see what’s next, regurgitating, for you to eat.

Stones in the heavens that don’t move like stones, just look like them.

A long stone turned point towards you has a less conspicuous profile.

It may have picked up a huge static field on its journey, maybe that’s why the probe died.

To close and you get a discharge.

Unintentional?

Certainly worth considering.(some thought so)

To shape huge stones can be done in two ways, if you’re us and small.

If you’re three in stature, your stones can be huge, but still hune in the same way.

The end result is the same, but the scale is different.

This can inspire some.

Amaze.

They then run around them getting in everyone else’s way, so much so, they can tell you any version as you can’t see anymore, too much wood, no trees.

The stones were cradled.

the Egyptians used the nile, to copy someone that used the nile in a different way.

The end result was the same.

The incas used gravity and water.

But they were copying something in an ignorant way.

Making likeness for so long the likeness takes on a function, soon the function takes on a new meaning.

the incredible part is, the ants made a radio.

If you took an ant, how much would you have to modify it to except instruction.

How much bigger would you make it?

so it could fetch and carry what you can.

As big as you?

Yeah, not such a good idea is it.

Them clever big ants could get out of hand couldn’t they.

Just think how innocent you would have to be to make such a mistake.

Most people reading would soon have realized the lack of foresight in the,

"ant do the work plan".

But our refugee did not see the issue with this idea.

Thinking only of the good intention.

But modifying a thing that had what we know we have, all of us.

A willingness to survive.

This cannot be wrong or right, it just is.

If it’s you or someone else, it’s someone else.

That’s how we are.

The justification of it, is whatever it is.

It could just come down to that.

Our stranded friend did not have that time induced neeeeeeeeed..

It had a motivation, but it was not an aggressive need.

Something followed.

To stay ahead of entropy, you must position yourself on the snakes midrift. Constantly staying out of the mouth.





Fuel, flora.

The time to us was completely different, as it is to a butterfly that sits on a redwood.

To leave, things would need to be gathered, from all over the planet.

Friends were needed.

Due to health restrictions, brought on by earths magnetic field. (Earths name given by this thing translated to our sounds is roughly "Try"or"Tri" (that was a long argument)

But never the less the globe must be traveled, for the "The Gods Goods", good things, valuable!

But all that was available was primitive of nature.The primitive nature hid a deathly logic as we all know.

But only of nature, still the will to survive in us could not have been understood, time was not on our side, so it became precious, something this being completely overlooked, it is after all nowhere in the DNA it’s just a sound in another realm the constructed program makes in its movement thru the physical.

How could any innocent of time see that.

The canvas was dirty, in a very specific way.

Some say that was a blessing.

Others say it was a curse.

The two sides do one thing different.

No matter what colour or creed.

I won’t say what that is just yet.

Here's a few questions to be eloquently answered by the exsperters.

In the large pyramid, the main room you say has many stone beams which are used to disperse weight.

If this is indeed what they are for, could you tell me why further down in the structure rooms exist with few of such stones "dispersing" pressure (which they of course do also, but not primarily), yet these rooms are further in harms way, being deeper in the area of stress.

Here’s another, what are the marble bowls with two holes used for.

Oh, and can you tell us if it wasn’t a tomb, what was it for, or what did the natives derive from it, if ya like.

I gave you a hefty tip, the crude drawing of the crops wilting and growing.

just wondering..

While the wonderful tell us new tales with preconceived credentials and ideas, let’s us continue with the lunacy.

The sphinx was not a Sphinx when we couldn't finx, no, that came much much later, first of all it was a place some animals sat.

To take in the vista, but what they didn’t know was they took in many other things as they sheltered against this soon to be god sign.

They absorbed the particular magnetism on that mantle, they went mental.

They carved it drew on it.

Lit fires at night.

This was seen, as were the others of such forces.

Their fires were seen also, note was taken, this is where the traveler should come to rest for now.

Egypt first.





That is where the pill is buried.

It is 600 feet long, it is in the sand deep.

On end.

There is another part.

Somewhere else.

That part is not important although things would be needed from it and then its remains had to be, dispersed.

First a place to rest and repair recouperate. Protection was in place, this kept the people at bay.

It also displaced them from their now idol.

Observed and behaviour used, the idol was reshaped with light swamping the night and day.

Then the field receeded, the people tentatively stepped back in, to see.

The idol was now pristene, a jackal, the first face.

Why was again much debated.

It changed, later.

It was of course signal, a communication.

No mistaking, stay clear if you scare easy, come challenge if you don’t.

The less petrified came closer, until they understood this was not a thing with life, it was still the stone, some of their original drawings still adorned it.

Framed almost in a place of worthiness.

A plaque you could say.

Many things will become inherent when you read, true in your mind.

Something will dislodge as you see, not all is seen with the eye.

The management are still here, in name and deed.

They take many forms.

But always a plaque or a banner or a flag, to assemble under.

The unnatural assembly of do what we all want or else.

Now we are not having services fulfilled, we are being governed.

With the rod.

You cannot beat a rod.

So don't.

The people that scream about their thing do so out of fear, try to remember how you feel when threatened, really.

Stay clear.

Avoid electronic mesmerizers of the weary.

They will instill a hate in you which is totally alien.

Pundits are there because at school they were that kid.

Some were ok, some not so ok.

But they are all I know bestest types.

Follow me, I know.

Very foolish.

They will never learn either, that is akin to the red mist that falls to someone incensed.

Watch the twisting that’s being done, on both sides, of the game.

The play, and anyone that wants you to look at them, first wants you to look at them, remember that.

The algorithm does, that’s why it traps them in a nightmare they can’t escape.

If they fall of the barrel for a moment it’s over.

The frenzy can be seen, the fragile attempts to cling on to empire name property, water, gas.

All yours, the pipes are yours, the water ways are yours.

They were all there before, like many tribes duped with dreamt up doctrine.

Dreamt up for the amnesiac by the unaffected.

The ones that knew where to hide.

So similar as it goes round don’t you think.

The hoarding of knowledge, in ever larger quantity on ever smaller chips.

Ever thought what you would do with no way of viewing them?

Nah, be fine, I’m sure.

Sleep tight.





Don't fall out ya bunk.

Funny how bunks are called bunks, innit.

Sardine tins for people.

I hated sardines as a kid, but I like em now.

Funny how you get used to things ain’t it.

Waffle wiv ya later, not so nutty communicators.

Away next week, have fun if your thing is now.

If not, see ya in january, all change move along the bus please, thangkinyooo. ding ding.




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