The Game

I’m not sure about you, but for me the explanations of the seemingly endless Middle Eastern conflict provided by the mainstream and alternative press are severely lacking and actually rather incoherent. It’s like querying a drunk driver as to why he blew the stop sign and ran over the kid walking on the side of the road. Imagine the response and then visit the comment sections of most any blog and try to distinguish the former from the latter. Good luck with that.

But I’ll be damned if they won’t stop yammering about it (the reasons for, and specifics of, the endless Middle Eastern conflict) incessantly night and day — in vain. There are only a handful who really care, or even know anything’s going on in the Middle East. Most people are too distracted to know or give a damn if they do know — that something’s going on. So why all the time spent trying to figure out that which perhaps cannot be figured out just by the very nature of it, especially when you consider most people couldn’t care less and don’t want to know?

I suppose it’s the same reason people in a survivable plane crash but with only moments to exit the plane will calmly and routinely act as though it’s just a normal deboarding and remove their overhead luggage as they placidly wait in line for everyone else to do the same before burning to death or dying of smoke inhalation. They just do what’s familiar in a time of shock brought on by crisis, except the journalists and commentators don’t have the excuse of shock brought on by crisis — or do they? Something to consider. Does the media (which includes its commentators in the comment sections) increasingly present a reality that is a siege mentality? And if that siege isn’t truly present, it creatively presents the delusion of one siege after another to fill the insatiable, obliterating void?

None of it makes any sense and is permeated with contradictions but that doesn’t prevent the interlopers from projecting their predilections upon the cascade of events in order to make it all fit a consistent narrative because some semblance of order out of chaos is necessary to maintain their sanity. They assume that’s the trade-off — truth for sanity. They’ll have to prove to me it is the trade-off, but if it is, maybe insanity is the way to go. Think about it — no more lies. Nah, what fun would that be? Nothing could be more dull and boring than a reality based on truth. There’d be no intrigue, and an existence without intrigue isn’t an existence at all — it’s death. So, thank your lucky stars it’s all lies. As Mel Gibson (William Wallace) said in Braveheart, but his progeny didn’t in the recent Scotland Independence referendum, “I want to live.” So lies it will be, then.

What do I mean by projected predilections? One popular excuse for everything that happens in the world is that it’s all the work of the Jews. Sometimes the Jews are referred to as ZioNazis instead of Jews, but it’s the same difference. Others prefer to frame every event as a partisan argument — it’s the Democrat’s fault or the Republican’s fault. Still, others must shoehorn any event, small or large, into their pet meme like James Kunstler does at Clusterfuck Nation blog with his weekly missives. Every week Jim Kunstler discusses major news events and always through the lens of Peak Oil, or Peak Everything if you will. It gets tiresome. It’s time for some new glasses. There are so many more groovy styles these days and the technology has improved tremendously, so splurge on a new pair. You won’t be disappointed, and in fact, once you upgrade, you’ll see things you didn’t know existed and other things you thought existed will turn out to just have been scratches on your old worn-out lenses.

The pair of glasses I’m wearing, for example, are well worth the price. They are free by the way, but only because they are priceless. For everything else there’s Masterbate Mastercard. My updated lenses set securely in their stylish frames allow me to see this cascade of world events in a whole new light, but the only problem is, now that I see things in a different, more enhanced light, it’s regressive to put on the old lenses and see the world through those forsaken muddied waters. It’s depressing. It’s sad. It’s pathetic — and yet it’s the world of most people trying vainly to make sense of it all. They allow themselves to be besieged with so much information, they become mired in it to the point they cannot extract themselves and are, metaphorically, stuck in the mud of over-analysis. If they’d get some new prescription lenses affixed to some stylish frames, they’d be free in no time, but the problem is, they won’t believe what they can’t see and no amount of cajoling can persuade them otherwise, so they flop around in the slimy foggy bottom content they’ve got it all figured out. As I said — pathetic and sad. Tragic, actually.

What does any of this have to do with the title, you may be asking? Well, after updating my lenses, and altering my perspective, I now see what’s transpiring as a game — or The Game. Others see, or have seen, it too — but they are few. Clues are, wittingly and unwittingly, embedded in most everything within our realm of experience — movies, books and blogs included. If you alter your perspective, the clues become more obvious with your new & improved lenses. Once you put the new glasses on, a movie is more than just its face value and the same holds true for books and other sources of information such as blogs. They are vehicles, or a medium, in which to convey multiple messages to multiple audiences. Sometimes some of the messages and their targeted audiences are unintended, but it’s no matter, it’s all good when it comes to The Game.

In order to better understand this, let me be more specific. Recently, a commentator commenting to James Howard Kunstler’s latest blog post here at Clusterfuck Nation blog had the following insight.

rapier

September 23, 2014 at 7:46 pm #

Ukraine, Iraq or anywhere don’t make sense until you recognize the strategic goal is chaos.

To which I replied:

Cold N. Holefield

September 24, 2014 at 7:22 am #

Close, but it’s even worse than that.

The Object Is Not to Win

It’s a game — a bit like Monopoly, only more people get hurt. There’s no good.…and no bad.

The object is not to win, but not to lose, and the only rule is to stay in the game.

Here’s the YouTube behind that link:

Intelligence services, particularly the CIA but others as well, aren’t shy about hiding in plain site. In fact, they’ll broadcast their tactics and intent if you tune to the right channel. I’ll never forget a certain deplored commentator at Rigorous Intuition forum by the name of Hugh Manatee Wins. People hated him with a vengeance. He didn’t bother me. He was clearly obsessed and over-the-top, but directionally he was on to something. Would he take it too far? Yes, of course, as all obsessives do, but that doesn’t mean you shoot the obsessed messenger and throw his baby out with his bathwater. Hugh Manatee Wins’ thesis (or obsession) was that it isn’t the Jews who control Hollywood, but the intelligence services, namely the CIA. He claimed they controlled all information — movies, books and the news. He would dive into the specifics and provide examples, and it was some of these outlandish examples he provided that would cause people to reject his overall thesis and throw his baby out the window with him. But his detractors became obsessed with excoriating him and would haunt him at every step. I couldn’t understand the vitriol he fielded. The hatred was palpable. If it was a bar, he would have received the fate of William Wallace. It made me think — was Hugh hitting too close to home? Maybe so, and it would prove his theory. If he’s correct, and my only quibble with him is the magnitude or degree of effort involved in the control of information, then the response to him would mean certain agents were responsible for smothering his ass and branding him a kook for internet eternity.

Hugh Manatee Wins provided a wealth of information related to Western intelligence agencies’, specifically the CIA’s, strategy to socially engineer the population. His breadth of knowledge on the topic was impressive. He really did his homework. Even if you were to take Hugh with a grain of salt, there’s something to his shtick. As the Scorpio movie clip above revealed, they play a game (and games). The Game. It’s not about winning or losing, but about playing The Game. The Game must go on, and you must try to stay in The Game. And, no doubt, like the simulacrum and the simulacra it spawns and contains, there are games within The Game as this clip from Three Days of the Condor (one of my favorite movies) reveals.

This telegraphed messaging is aimed at multiple audiences, children and adults alike, but especially children. There are a myriad of examples of this, and Hugh Manatee Wins provided many, some more outlandish and outrageous than others, but the following is about egregious as it gets. It’s a movie who’s presumed target audience is children, but the messaging, although cleverly disguised with a certain “Cheese Factor,” is quite intellectually sophisticated and the focus of it is a wider audience than just children. The movie Spy Kids 3: Game Over is a perfect example of intelligence services hiding in plain site. By strategically placing The Family Jewels in public view via books, the internet, news media and movies, those jewels can be protected via misinformational containment and the plausible deniability of fictionally absurd entertainment. Spy Kids 3: Game Over is the latter of those of the two strategies. It’s a silly kid’s movie, so anyone attempting to expose the Family Jewels will be seen as a kook since such nonsense is the stuff of Hollywood fiction. It’s a brilliant strategy that puts an end to all serious inquiry and inquisition of the National Security State of which intelligence services are a major component.

You may be curious as to how I know about Spy Kids 3: Game Over. No, it’s not because I have children and I watched it with them. I was surfing the channels one night a couple of years prior and stumbled upon it. Something compelled me to watch it even though I had a strong compulsion to change the channel. I’m guessing it was the special perfidious herbal frames that were holding my new lenses that evening. I was blown away. Every ten minutes I was like “WTF!” Now granted, most don’t see this movie this way, but I sure did. It’s in-your-face imo if you can overlook the superficiality and Cheese Factor to separate the wheat from the chaff. It’s about The Game and it goes into much greater detail about it than the previous two movies despite its light-hearted, File:Order of the Cross of Liberty of Finland (heraldic).svgcomical edge. Not to mention, it has a star-studded cast with the likes of Ricardo Montalban, Antonio Banderas and Sylvester Stallone. Sly should have won an Oscar for best actor — it was one of his finest roles to date.

The message of this “kid’s” movie belies the “Game Over” part of the title. It’s not about the game being over — quite the contrary. Keep in mind, the main character’s surname in this film is Cortez. Cortez, as we all know, was a Conquistador who brought civilization and religion to the New World and slaughtered a great many Indians in the process for good measure (but as we’ll see below, it was for their own good and they should not only forgive Cortez and the Spanish, but be thankful). That Christianity was of the Papist variety and the cornerstone of that religion is suffering. Suffering is not only embraced, it is sought after, because suffering is an offering to God. Without suffering, God’s grace cannot be received. This message is addressed and reinforced by the intelligence services with this film. Juni’s grandpa, Valentin Avellan, delivers a great speech to the Toymaker Sebastian (Sly Stallone) forgiving him for making Valentin suffer with paralysis. He actually turned forgiveness into thanks just as good Catholics should be thankful to God for the suffering he enabled with “free choice.” Here’s the dialogue between Sebastian the Toymaker and Valentin Avellan (Juni’s grandpa):

Scene script:

BEGIN CLIP AT 1 hour and 11 minutes and 10 seconds (in Chapter 27)

(The robot powered by the Toymaker stares down the good guys as Grandpa decides to confront the evil genius.)

Toymaker: Thank you for freeing me, Valentin, but it’s too late. Nothing can stop me. Not even you.

Grandpa: That’s true. Only you can do that. You double-crossed us. The agency, your fellow agents, and me. Your mistake cost me my legs. Well, a mistake like that could only push someone further into the dark. And it has. Look at you now.

Toymaker: I gave you back your legs when you were in the game. I did that for you.

Grandpa: Let me tell you all the things I’ve missed in my life because of the accident you caused. I can’t walk on the beach with my wife. I missed my daughter’s birth. And wedding. Shall I continue? … Now let me tell you all the good things that came of it. Humility. Spirituality. Understanding. You’ve been living in fear of me all these years. But I’ve only been searching for you so I could tell you that I forgive you.

Toymaker: I’ve only dreamed I would hear you say something like that.

The following YouTube clip of the movie’s theme song reveals and underscores the messaging. For example, per the lyrics accompanying the theme song it states, “it’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play The Game” — and the intonation and subtle coy emphasis the vocalist places on the latter part of that extracted lyric is telling. Also, the lyrics consistently repeat “game over, game over, game over — for now,” thus giving credence to the fact The Game is never really over in the sentiment of the Gloria Patri; “Glory be to The Game … as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be — The Game without end. Amen.”

Spy Kids 3: Game Over makes mention of another aspect of the CIA and intelligence services that the previous two referenced movies doesn’t — family. Intelligence services is a family, albeit a highly dysfunctional one. But hey, what family isn’t dysfunctional, right? There are degrees of dysfunction just as there are infinite shades of gray, so some families are more dysfunctional than others. Intelligence services is about as dysfunctional and twisted as it gets. Pretty much off the charts.

One object (there are many objects) of The Game is to preserve The Family so The Family can stay in The Game. In an earlier Spy Kids movie, the Cortez’s daughter, Juni’s sister, Carmen delivers the dual messaging at the outset of the movie when she states:

Spy work, that’s easy. Keeping a family together, that’s difficult. And that’s the mission worth fighting for.

Here’s the clip containing that quote:

Once again, I’ll emphasize that the genius of this method of hiding the Family Jewels in plain public sight is genius, but it’s there if you change your eyeglasses prescription. The CIA has been referred to as many things over the years — The Agency, The Firm but most importantly, it’s referred to as The Family, especially by insiders. Don’t believe me? I’ll let Barack Hussein Obama, an insider according to some, explain per this link:

Remarks by The President at Memorial for CIA Officers
CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia

THE PRESIDENT: America’s intelligence agencies are a community, and the CIA is a family. That is how we gather here today. I speak as a grateful Commander-in-Chief who relies on you. There are members of Congress here who support you. Leaders — Leon Panetta, Steve Kappes — who guide you. And most of all, family, friends and colleagues who love you and grieve with you.

For more than 60 years, the security of our nation has demanded that the work of this agency remain largely unknown. But today, our gratitude as citizens demands that we speak of seven American patriots who loved their country and gave their lives to defend it:

[Names redacted.]

They came from different corners of our country — men and women — and each walked their own path to that rugged base in the mountains. Some had come to this work after a lifetime of protecting others — in law enforcement, in the military; one was just a few years out of college.

Some had devoted years, decades, even, to unraveling the dark web of terrorists that threatened us; others, like so many of you, joined these ranks when 9/11 called a new generation to service. Some had spent years on dangerous tours around the globe; others had just arrived in harm’s way.

But there, at the remote outpost, they were bound by a common spirit. They heard their country’s call and answered it. They served in the shadows and took pride in it. They were doing their job and they loved it. They saw the danger and accepted it. They knew that the price of freedom is high and, in an awful instant, they paid that price.

There are no words that can ease the ache in your hearts. But to their colleagues and all who served with them — those here today, those still recovering, those watching around the world — I say: Let their sacrifice be a summons. To carry on their work. To complete this mission. To win this war, and to keep our country safe.

To their parents — it is against the natural order of life for parents to lay their children to rest. Yet these weeks of solemn tribute have revealed for all to see — that you raised remarkable sons and daughters. Everything you instilled in them — the virtues of service and decency and duty — were on display that December day. That is what you gave them. That is what you gave to America. And our nation will be forever in your debt.

To the spouses — your husbands and wives raised their hand and took an oath to protect and defend the country that they loved. They fulfilled that oath with their life. But they also took your hand and made a vow to you. And that bond of love endures, from this world to the next. Amidst grief that is sometimes unbearable, may you find some comfort in our vow to you — that this agency, and this country, will stand with you and support you always.

And to the beautiful children — I know that this must be so hard and confusing, but please always remember this. It wasn’t always easy for your mom or dad to leave home. But they went to another country to defend our country. And they gave their lives to protect yours. And as you grow, the best way to keep their memory alive and the highest tribute you can pay to them is to live as they lived, with honor and dignity and integrity.

They served in secrecy, but today every American can see their legacy. For the record of their service — and of this generation of intelligence professionals — is written all around us. It’s written in the extremists who no longer threaten our country — because you eliminated them. It’s written in the attacks that never occurred — because you thwarted them. And it’s written in the Americans, across this country and around the world, who are alive today — because you saved them.

And should anyone here ever wonder whether your fellow citizens truly appreciate that service, you need only remember the extraordinary tributes of recent weeks: the thousands of Americans who have sat down at their computers and posted messages to seven heroes they never knew; in the outpouring of generosity to the memorial foundation that will help support these proud families.

And along a funeral procession in Massachusetts, in the freezing cold, mile after mile, friends and total strangers paying their respects, small children holding signs saying “thank you.” And a woman holding up a large American flag because, she said simply, “He died for me and my family.”

As a nation, we pledge to be there for you and your families. We need you more than ever. In an ever-changing world where new dangers emerge suddenly, we need you to be one step ahead of nimble adversaries. In this information age, we need you to sift through vast universes of data to find intelligence that can be acted upon swiftly. And in an era of technology and unmanned systems, we still need men and women like these seven — professionals of skill and talent and courage who are willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to protect our nation.

Because of them, because of you, a child born in America today is welcomed into a country that is proud and confident, strong and hopeful — just as Molly Roberson welcomed her daughter Piper this week, both of whom join us today. Piper will never know her dad, Scott. But thanks to Molly, she will know what her father stood for — a man who served his country, who did his duty, and who gave his life to keep her safe.

And on some distant day, years from now, when she is grown, if Piper — or any of these children — seeks to understand for themselves, they’ll need only come here — to Langley, through these doors, and stand before that proud Memorial Wall that honors the fallen.

And perhaps they’ll run their fingers over the stars that recall their parent’s service. Perhaps they’ll walk over to that Book of Honor, turn the pages, and see their parent’s names. And at that moment of quiet reflection, they will see what we all know today — that our nation is blessed to have men and women such as these. That we are humbled by their service, that we give thanks for every day that you keep us safe.

May God bless these seven patriots, may he watch over their families. And may God bless the United States of America.

Some Sister Sledge is in order, don’t you think?

All this talk of family brings to mind another dysfunctional family with CIA/Intelligence Services fingerprints all over it; The Manson Family. Who can forget Charlie Manson and Company? Charlie and his gang were to community destroying domestic terrorism what Willie Wonka‘s Charlie was to chocolate and chocolate factories. Just as there are simulacra within the simulacrum and games within The Game, there are also families within The Family. The Mansons were one such spin-off creation, and they served their purpose well. It ended the Hippie generation and sent everyone back into the holes in the ground where they hide.

And of course, Manson being the musical talent he was, also sings about The Game. Yes, Charlie, it is a “sad, sad game — mad game.”

To be continued.

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4 thoughts on “The Game

    • Good catch. It’s redundant. I’ve made the change. It now reads as follows:

      to fill the insatiable, obliterating void?

      That void implores you to fill it and when you attempt to do so, it eviscerates everything you throw at it.

      Also, interesting syntax you’ve adopted. It doesn’t fit your earlier style. It more resembles MisterDarling’s technique per one of “his” latest comments over at CFN.

      He gets a bit strident, but sometimes I like that *lofty *tone of *moral *outrage. Helps get things back into perspective (ie., where we were, where we are now, etc).

      I’ve noticed this about you. You are inconsistent at times, as though there’s another person posting as your avatar. The style is just too different for it to be the regular you. Maybe it’s just a random wrinkle every now and then, but I doubt it.

      Either way, it’s good to know you’re back in The Game, and you do have Game. So does your cuddly buddy Janos, and like you, as you’ve mentioned, he has persistence. Such unabashed persistence qualifies as steroidal tenacity.

      Personally, I’m sticking with my theory that Janos is Kunstler Gaming his own blog’s comment section or he’s a very close Jewish friend playing the rather transparent part of a White Nationalist to malign that characterization if that’s even possible. I don’t think it is (possible), so Janos’ efforts are superfluous, but if part of his motivation is “just for kicks” then I suppose it’s worth it.

      People, unlike your brother, find various reasons to live. Some live for hate. Others live for accumulation. Still others live for another day of kicks on Route 66. And then there are others who live merely because their body is built like a fortress and endures long past the time their psychical will to live has expired. My father fits that latter category and it’s sad and tragic.

    • What’s also interesting, whatever wireless service you’re using (it says AT&T) it’s accessing the same server that Book Adams (an earlier one-time commenter at this space) used in Kansas. I recollect from the old days at CFN, Kunstler had an app on his site that allowed you to view the specific locations from which traffic to his blog emanated, and there was a DoD designation in the very same location in Kansas. I always attributed it to bored employees trying to fill the insatiable, obliterating void created when staring at the end of the world as we know it in missile silos all day long, everyday. Can you imagine such a job? Weird, that. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence. There’s no place like home.

      I have FDR fresh on my mind after watching Ken Burns’ excellent documentary The Roosevelts: An Intimate History. When you posted over at CFN for the first time in nine months, I laughed out loud because this line popped into my head upon reading your first sentence:

      “1/28/2014 — a day that will live in infamy.”

      It’s important, for purposes of effect, to hear FDR‘s voice when you play this slightly altered version in your head.

  1. I hate to say this, but I sure hope she didn’t have unprotected sex when she was in Cleveland. If she did, Sweet Mother of Jesus we all better run for cover. I sure am glad I buried that bus deep in the forest way out in the country. It looks like it may come in handy.

    As Michael Shannon says in Take Shelter (great movie and great performance by Shannon), “there is a storm coming — like nothing you have ever seen and not a one of you is prepared for it.”

    Ebola, unlike the stomach flu, kills 70% of those it infects. Initially in America that percentage may be lower, but as it gains momentum and overwhelms an already inundated healthcare system, the mortality rate will climb to 70% and your survival it will be a roll of the dice — dice that are not loaded in our favor. Before it’s too late, peace be with you all. Eat plenty of Pizza, steak, ribs, chips, cookies and cake — so far, the majority of the virus’s victims have not been overweight, so fatten up while you still can and maybe it will pass over you like the Angel of Death. Consider fat rolls the equivalent of lamb’s blood over and around your door.

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