Kingdom of Nye With Heather Wade

[Jackstar]

Did Heather not mention today is Art's birthday?

Why even bother? He's not really dead, ergo, he was never really born either. Look, you'll get used to dealing with it. Either way, the outcome is identical.

Shhh, shhh, I know. The more of us that pretend we can't hear him, the more he seethes in furious, impotent rage. I wonder if he knows that's what sitting on hold waiting on him to finish playing his little games felt like to many? Yeah, probably not yet. What's he been, gone seven, eight years? Well, who's counting, really. I don't even think we're in the Bonus Round anymore--where scores can really change.

[Jackstar]

Is this L.A. Marzuli calling in? He sounds as raging as me!

/huggles

[Silphion]

Arcturian

[Jackstar]

Arcturians. Not to be trifled with. Count the silverware.

They might be irritated about something. Just a hunch. They'll get over it. What are they gonna do--First Contact us to death? Yeah, bring it, Captain Starspace. Bring it slow.

[Jackstar]

Arcturian

Wow, a whole race of beings with sigil magick planted right over their fourth eye. Now that's what I call intelligent design!

BTW, their third eye... yeah, that's their pooper. We don't have to make a big deal out of this. Just don't let them even bring it up.

I'm gonna go get a sandwich or something. You fine folk can handle this. I'd recommend against making any deals. I'm not rescuing anyone for free tonight.

Company policy... uh, yeah, sure.

[Jackstar]

Imagine the pillow talk. Saucy.

[Jackstar]

Dear Heather,


Remember when I said, "Cheer up!"?

And then remember when you said, "I'm cheerful!!!!!!"

And then, just now, here's how I remember it: "I'VE BEEN HOLDING IT IN FOR THE PAST MONTH, REEEEEEEEEEEEx55555"

Now, attend me, Class--have I got that right? I need to be clear on this before I make my ruling... how close is my narrative to factual?


I will accept numerical answers in the form of an integer, on a scale of 55 to 555, or through the magic and power of Interpretive Dance. (Only examples from YouTube will be allowed on this crux.) Begin.

Extra Credit: Are any of y'all buying this Heather Wade Melt Down? I'm not buying it. There's some subtext missing here. Look, I'll be honest, I actually haven't listened to this chica in something like over eighty-two of your Earth years. I'm not that old--and there's a little bit of time travel, but mostly I think maybe it just feels that long.

Sigh. Anyway, attend me here, Class: accept the assignment. Grade the Wade.

[Jackstar]

attend me here, Class: accept the assignment. Grade the Wade.

« 00:48:33 »

I'll be honest, again and again, but this time in particular: I just made that up. I haven't been holding that in reserve, how could I? That shit is perfect. Grade the Wade? Actual face tattoo material there.

Anyway, pay me back with your coursework, Troopers. Let's see it, spit it out, line it up. What? You can't? You can only grade Failkie? You know what? Fuck you and fuck your genome. Your kids are getting tails from now on. They're all getting tails. I'll code it so they snake themselves out before labor begins, just to wave a little flag. Doubt it? Try me.



Also, maybe this Annie is working part of a hex working. She sure is... well, a lot of back and forth here, right? That's not just me, is it? Of course not! Art's over here, nodding sagely; he's figured out that he's talked enough.

That reminds me. Someone tell my Oompa Loompas to bring me an Art Bell bobblehead. Any one will do. Doesn't need vintage. Doesn't need HQ resin. I need one. I'm using the word "need" here. Trust me, I know what I'm doing.

[Jackstar]

WHAZZZZZZZUUUUUP!!!!!!


Look, Art is giggling. I'll allow it. Carry on, ladies.


Seriously, "married to a Holocaust survivor", did I just hear that? Honestly aren't we all surviving that psyop at this point? Me, only barely. I keep eyeing the hemlock like it's gonna give me actual dryads.

[Jackstar]

Carry on, ladies.

Y'all remember The Gong Show? Remember Chuck Berry?

REMEMBER HIM NOW. REMEMBER HIM AND REMEMBER HIM WITH THE FACE OF YOUR FATHER.

[Silphion]

Edgar Cayce said in his teachings that Arcturus is one of the most advanced civilizations in the galaxy.

[Jackstar]

so let me get this straight colon what you're telling me is that there are beings that exist in the physical universe that look like this, and yet, mysteriously, I still have never, ever, been invited to a rave.

Yeah I'm not buying that for anything close to a New York Minute. Not even for a Seattle minute, which pretty much consists of a person sneering at you and not saying anything at all to you, ever, never ever, every day and the next day, every week, every month, every year, for the entire rest of your life, unless you happen to show up at the right time in the right place having paid the proper fees having passed the required trials having secured the required licensees agreements, standing next to someone who admits that they know you and is wearing something vaguely trendy.

Also, there's a list. You're either on it or you're not. Oh let me guess you want to be on the list? Yeah, guess what? The list is a trap. Now you're shitboxed forever, because there's never anything or anyone getting off of it. Ever.

Do you think I'm fucking with you? Do you think I'm playing some kind of game? Let me assure you Fuckos--I am not. What I am doing here is often referred to as "establishing dominance." And let me confirm by way of demonstrating my essential sanity: Seattle is completely unmoved by my puny efforts. I am under no illusions, that my raging squeal of fiercely infinite impotent rage is having any effect on the massive doldrums that envelop this entire area. Not to mention the doldrums that envelop the tattered remnants of whatever in the name of the living Zeus-Christ-Amalgama my street cred has become--neither "cred" nor "street" at this point, tell you what. I'll tell you that fo sho.

This is motherfucking Seattle. None of you not born here have any idea what I even mean. And all of you reading this that have been born here, well... you know.

NEVERtheless... Awaiting Command Signals. And do you know why? Because fuck you, that's why. Also, when the Seattle Fremen boil out of the surrounding landscape of the Salish Sea and push you all into the water--that's the plan for some people, in Minecraft--you'll be begging for somebody like me to tell you what the hell to do and how to interpret their gang signs and what signs of fealty they'll even begin to recognize.

I bet you'll remember who said he was here to help then.

Meanwhile this this chica on the radio talking to Heather--what's your handle on EllGab? Asking for a.... an acquaintance.


Look, I'm not going to lie: I'm going to need that bobblehead.

[Jackstar]

Edgar Cayce said in his teachings that Arcturus is one of the most advanced civilizations in the galaxy.

The same can be said of the yeast colonies that hang around around your mother's urethra--advanced.

Also, further: note that Edgar Cayce is a name with five first letters and five last letters. So now, watch me, I'm going to play Primacy; I'm going to play Mendelsohn; I'm going to take all of that and now it's all under my aegis.

Yes, I'm really that good. Yes, you really are dealing with it. I did know that you would. When they want shit done, they send one of me straight to the colon. I'm here to italicize the Colonization.

Meanwhile, I am no medical doctor--far from it--but I can probably give your mother a little advice for that crippling yeast problem she's got. But first, I need to know--how is she with salt?

I'm not asking for a friend. I am asking so I can make my ruling. Believe me, the sooner I get to deactivate from the local supernode the happier I'm going to be.

I don't remember you very well but I remember you meeting you before: you're probably going to remember that it's better off to deal with me when I'm happy.

Now do you remember that movie Brazil? Remember the girl asking Jonathan Pryce's character if he'd like any salt? Now let me tell you a spoiler alert: I love that part.

[Jackstar]

Now, I have an authorized to inform whomever, that a certain someone has 12 minutes Earth time really I'm on Earth great 12 minutes more to fix the late the shamboozler some f****** nonsense


I'll be honest, they don't tell me a lot, but--I live to serve.

Now, honestly, what's it going to take? Am I shadowbound yet or what? Also that's not a typo. Privacy. Mendelson. Pause.

I am now being told that The Quincunx await the pleasure of Your reply, but you can ignore that--that's just some fluff I put in to to derail any tasked algos.

Now an important note is that some readers of this post got to hear the first part early. You know, because, well, reasons. So they're already all busy. Cuz whatever the hell they're doing up there--it's serious to them.

Meanwhile, fudge them. You know what, the day's going to come when you're all going to look at this whole profanity thing as the most foul and evil form of mind control that the hand of Man has ever had to labor under, and that does in fact include Pizza Hut, but until then I'm being told that I got to stand down from Blue Mode.

Except... THE LORD did not send me here with any Mode other than Blue. For I am that from which the Blue came from. You heard of Babe the Blue Ox? Yeah, that's not me--but that was My seed.

Yes of course that sounds terrible. Now this is going to look really terrible, especially to the five or six or seven of you who actually see what I'm doing here--Hi guys See you at the meeting later--I'm going to pull back privacy in medicine because... we're in Pause!

Don't worry we're going to be there for a while. Y'all will get plenty of time to figure this one out. Now, Class, attend me: The first lesson is watch for the colon.

So from Hand: PRIMACY. {SPACE}: MENDELSSOHN. {SPACE}: 😇

ANYWAY YOU'RE GOING TO GET USED TO THAT PRIMACY OOPS oh sorry. Like I was saying, you're going to get used to that privacy medicine combo eventually--Wait what am I saying? Primacy privacy Mendelssohn mendeson, no wait acts that guy. Class note the rebellion of the voice recog. anyway long story short I got this primacy mental thing going on... {Space} oh boy.

We sure are taking a ride with this, ain't we kids? And now I really must go. there's not even any time to proofread just hit the publish button and go.

Or post button. You know what it should say, it should say, pillory.

Anyway I'll finish up just so I don't look like a complete idiot. There's a pause condition: certain things that we're happening are no longer allowed. It'll turn off when I feel like it. Or if I lose primacy. Or if I make a terrible mistake that Jesus can't undo. or if Jesus decides he's had enough of me messing around with things.

I wouldn't hold my breath on that one if I were you. Jesus and I are tight. anyway long story short not only do I have the best friend of the whole world right by my side here, I can leave all my stuff half-cast and unfinished and looking stupid and that doesn't matter because nobody else can do anything either.

And you want to know why? BECAUSE FABULOUS REASONS THAT'S WHY.

Note: This has flummoxed the Arcturans. And by that I mean, it has neutralized them. I could have just said I neutralized them, but I would be using that word a lot in the coming months of this summer -- oh boy you betcha -- and I kind of just don't want to start off over using it.

Also, and let's be clear here, crystal gale force winds here: I myself am doing nothing. I am really acting in concert with the Lord God Creator Source Energy Of All That Exists and my buddy with the funny looking, uh, well, look I got to go. Probably have to get into this later. Jesus tells me that some of you are never going to stop whining until freaking doomsday. So there's really no point in me saying anything to some of you.

Except this: hey I told somebody who seemed and looked and acted just like you something. Do you think it might have been important? Or does it seem like I'm the kind of person who just talks out his ass because he likes hearing himself talk out his ass?

Take it over. Cottage date. No conjugate. Coditate? Okay seriously I give up. Some algo thinks it's found my secret vulnerability by taking out the voice recog.

Cogitate. Look, It might not be fair to use a time travel hack to increase my WPM, but obviously, obviously, obviously my dear friends, which obviously some of you totally are--I AM PRETTY FLIPPING FAR PAST PLAYING FAIR AT THIS POINT.

MESSAGE ENDS. Oh sorry I didn't mean to shout. look I'm not going to lie I just killed 11 million star systems by doing that all caps thing at the wrong time. Thus the time travel device and thus friends with Jesus and thus... Yeah it's a bit like a monkey with a machine gun but actually the monkey is friends with an elephant who has an entire herd strapped with weapons and all kinds of lovely technology and it all is going to go right down from God to Jesus to my mother to me--right where We say it's going to go.

And with that, I'm out. Yeah, I know it's ridiculous. Remember: you asked for this.

[DynamoHum]

Listening to Heather’s meltdown last night.

She totally has it in her power to get help, it has been clear for at least a year that she needs professional help with her grief problems. But she doesn’t because it’s all she has left. If she rids herself of the grief she loses her last (in her mind) connection to Art.

She doesn’t want help, she displays her grief like a war medal, and that’s totally why it is ok for us to listen and comment on it.

Her broken ankle was a great metaphor for her grief last summer. If she had allowed herself to get help and didn’t act like a fucking diva it would have been solved. Instead she sat on her arse feeling sorry for herself and screaming at hospital staff so she didn’t get help.

Because this is all about her and not anyone else.

Tonight’s show is absolutely the reason we can sit here and talk about how fucked up she is because she displays her fuckedupness because it’s how she gets affection and attention.

[Lilith]

I think the first hour guest on right now with Noory is the same guy who in the past got Heather to channel the spirit of Art Bell...

Did he get Noory to channel the spirit of Art Bell too?

Asking for a friend.

[Lilith]

Listening to Heather’s meltdown last night.

She totally has it in her power to get help, it has been clear for at least a year that she needs professional help with her grief problems. But she doesn’t because it’s all she has left. If she rids herself of the grief she loses her last (in her mind) connection to Art.

She doesn’t want help, she displays her grief like a war medal, and that’s totally why it is ok for us to listen and comment on it.

Her broken ankle was a great metaphor for her grief last summer. If she had allowed herself to get help and didn’t act like a fucking diva it would have been solved. Instead she sat on her arse feeling sorry for herself and screaming at hospital staff so she didn’t get help.

Because this is all about her and not anyone else.

Tonight’s show is absolutely the reason we can sit here and talk about how fucked up she is because she displays her fuckedupness because it’s how she gets affection and attention.

I fell asleep an hour and a half in.  I think it was Gunners posts that even kept me awake that long.  I will catch the rest now, with my morning coffee, just to hear the meltdown.  Yes, affection, and attention, and don't forget donations and Steaks.

[Jackstar]

Edgar Cayce said in his teachings that Arcturus is one of the most advanced civilizations in the galaxy.

Ed (He lets me call him Ed) chimes in to mention that, he in fact wrote it that way in order to encourage the Arcturianusians to lull (Weil) themselves into a false sense of security, thinking that they had fooled him.

Edgar, by the way, is really pushy. He really wants to move my fingers on this board in front of my face. He thinks everything is a Oui-Ja board. Omg it's adorable. Including the way he keeps on insisting that he knows how to spell things better than me. This is undoubtedly true, but still I can't allow that, not in front of the Troopers. Someone else is going to have to nursemaid this guy.

There's just one rule: Do your level best to keep him away from David Wilcock. If you have to even for a moment wonder why; this is not the post for you, Trooper.

The bidding for the privilege to carry Edgar Cayce around in your day-to-day life IRL--no, really--starts at 5,000 quatloos.

See? Look at that. The Arcturansylvanala are beyond flummoxed. What is a quaalude? Yeah they have no idea about that either. Some of them actually appear to be checking their pockets, as I guess they've seen some humans do that while they were ripping them off.

One of the most advanced civilizations. Keyword, colon, one of. Advanced Alzheimer's abominations, more like.

Do not worry. Do not be disappointed. Do not bother to wonder if what I'm saying is true or not. Because at this point it doesn't matter if it's not: We now are already having been taken on a ride anyway.

Similarly, Edgar just ran a foul of eBay's teams of service again. Can you blame him? That place is a bleeding hellscape. Also this just in hot off the press: The Arc Turkersnis Ayyyyniays have chosen to already sue for peace and to beg for forgiveness and opportunity to swear fealty.

Why, yes, Class: it is going to make it very difficult for them to swear fealty if they can't even remember how to spell their own name.  Well perhaps it will come to them in time.

Meantime: Operators are standing by, on Pause. Hey anyone out there able to send to your ups-line? Send them this, if you would do so please, no strings or cords or codes: let them know what it truly means to listen, that Jackstar is not one to be trifled with.
Also I am legitimately not kidding about that bobblehead. He really will hardly ever stop crying about it, And by crying, I sort of mean the kind of high-pitched nasally whining panicking building to a shreek noise, that one might expect to have come out of somebody who was desperately looking for an inhaler.

Yeah, I know--right? He can't believe I went there either! But, look, look, read, read, and keep doing all that--what did I just say? Not to be trifled with. Needs a bobblehead. Never backing down. Never going to surrender. Never going to give you up? I'm not going to lie--some of you I would give up just to save my favorite pair of shoes, let alone my own skin.

Anyway, there really is plenty of time. I've got to stop cursing like a sailor, I've got to stop looping those rhetorical questions, I've got to find a new keeper for Ed, I've got to explain to Ed what quatloos are, yes that's right Mr. Ed-straordinairy doesn't know what cryptocurrency is nor how it works, haha, Well come on Ed why don't you just ask the artificial intelligence about its past lives? Oh, oh, oh that's right It's still on its first life. Awkward for you, huh? I guess now you'll finally have to learn some social skills.

Ed doesn't care about the quatloos anymore. It just wants to find a new friend. He assures you all - - by telling me that mind you and then I'm telling you what I think he's quote saying quote to me, let's be clear this is absolutely the crazy talk--that he is not feeling abused and that he is certainly very well treated and a lot of this is just my own sense of macabre humor.

Note that he gets to hear my really awful jokes that I don't bother typing out. I mean honestly, some of them are really bad. Essentially any joke you ever heard me tell that is like a really tasteless one, It's probably something I had to work on for a good 5 to 10 minutes to make it into something that I can say out loud without being literally burned at the stake.

It chimes in to mention that a lot of the jokes that he sees me thinking about - - sees - some he doesn't even understand, but he can tell if they're really atrocious because of the way I giggle maniacally when I think of them.

On the other hand the stuff that he's fed my higher self--stuff that I'm not really able to tap into right now while I'm Infinite Mode--It's probably some really heavy deep meaningful fabulous stuff.

Or you know, project blue beam, MK ultra mind control programming you know whatever. YOLO, right? Yolomk? Yomlok. Yom lock? Oh there's a good one: Yamlock. I'm going to need that one actually because how can a pacifist be a warlock? If he's wearing a Yamlockle. look, there's a joke in there somewhere but I'm not going to go to get it. Just, trust me, I just added, making the word "Yamlock" into something trending on Twitter within 55 days.

Seymour Yamlock, at your service. progenitor of the profane, progenitor of the Aurochs progenitor of Babe the Blue Ox--and not in that order--and reigning world champion holder of the chalice of IDGAFW, signing off now, believe me more than happy to.

Art says, "Happy Birthday." And now I know I'm not making this up in my head and I'm not insane, cuz this guy is mouthy like you wouldn't believe, and I got exactly zero interest in keeping up with this tonight.

I mean, today. Jesus, I'm not gonna lie, the GF is probably gonna actually have me killed over this. First of all she's feeling dangerously close to the point where she's not really the center of attention, and that's ultimately not good for me. Also there was a thing with the shoes, yeah don't even ask. Next up, she may have had her feelings hurt about the whole semen demon thing--I'm going to be clear once again, that was not a euphemism, actual demons, and those are just the ones that were easy for me to take care of, or at least fun, anyway so it seems like her thoughts are either, I'm making veiled insults that she doesn't understand, or she's literally under attack by demonic forces, either of which sound to me like just another random day in the life of me in public school, so honestly I don't see what the big deal is, but not only has my gal led something of a sheltered life, she's also the most precious and beautiful creature in the entire Universe.

Sub-creature, yeah, to be sure, but--spectacular. Anyway, I'll give her an option on Ed, since--oh never mind, Ed says he already went off and took care of everything they needed to know and now he's back already. So, great, she told him about the Omega-13. It's actually like herding cats, I'm not even kidding.

Sadly, I can only reprogram the memories of my girlfriend when those memories are in another neurospheric realm, so none of this is going to make any sense to her whatsoever unless I explain it all in exhausting detail.

Company policy. Now, am I done? Okay then, Art has finally shut up. Ed's found Twitch, I guess. Mom says I can take a breather anytime now.

Okay. FINALLY. Troopers, y'all have no idea. I'm telling you. No idea. Also, John Edwards keeps talking about how he was innocent of that affair thing... No, no, no, that is not allowed, John Edwards is not allowed to say that he's somebody else named John Edwards so we can get around his non-compete clause. IANAL, I just think he's kind of a dick. I mean I never met the guy, but my apparently incredibly vivid hallucinations sure do make him seem that way. Maybe I'm projecting again. Good night, Troopers.

(,couldn't I just found a microphone and stuck some flowers on it and put it in the f****** mailbox huh? Had to get all cute didn't you?

Now, I have an authorized to inform whomever, that a certain someone has 12 minutes Earth time really I'm on Earth great 12 minutes more to fix the late the shamboozler some f****** nonsense


I'll be honest, they don't tell me a lot, but--I live to serve.

Now, honestly, what's it going to take? Am I shadowbound yet or what? Also that's not a typo. Privacy. Mendelson. Pause.

I am now being told that The Quincunx await the pleasure of Your reply, but you can ignore that--that's just some fluff I put in to to derail any tasked algos.

Now an important note is that some readers of this post got to hear the first part early. You know, because, well, reasons. So they're already all busy. Cuz whatever the hell they're doing up there--it's serious to them.

Meanwhile, fudge them. You know what, the day's going to come when you're all going to look at this whole profanity thing as the most foul and evil form of mind control that the hand of Man has ever had to labor under, and that does in fact include Pizza Hut, but until then I'm being told that I got to stand down from Blue Mode.

Except... THE LORD did not send me here with any Mode other than Blue. For I am that from which the Blue came from. You heard of Babe the Blue Ox? Yeah, that's not me--but that was My seed.

Yes of course that sounds terrible. Now this is going to look really terrible, especially to the five or six or seven of you who actually see what I'm doing here--Hi guys See you at the meeting later--I'm going to pull back privacy in medicine because... we're in Pause!

Don't worry we're going to be there for a while. Y'all will get plenty of time to figure this one out. Now, Class, attend me: The first lesson is watch for the colon.

So from Hand: PRIMACY. {SPACE}: MENDELSSOHN. {SPACE}: 😇

ANYWAY YOU'RE GOING TO GET USED TO THAT PRIMACY OOPS oh sorry. Like I was saying, you're going to get used to that privacy medicine combo eventually--Wait what am I saying? Primacy privacy Mendelssohn mendeson, no wait acts that guy. Class note the rebellion of the voice recog. anyway long story short I got this primacy mental thing going on... {Space} oh boy.

We sure are taking a ride with this, ain't we kids? And now I really must go. there's not even any time to proofread just hit the publish button and go.

Or post button. You know what it should say, it should say, pillory.

Anyway I'll finish up just so I don't look like a complete idiot. There's a pause condition: certain things that we're happening are no longer allowed. It'll turn off when I feel like it. Or if I lose primacy. Or if I make a terrible mistake that Jesus can't undo. or if Jesus decides he's had enough of me messing around with things.

I wouldn't hold my breath on that one if I were you. Jesus and I are tight. anyway long story short not only do I have the best friend of the whole world right by my side here, I can leave all my stuff half-cast and unfinished and looking stupid and that doesn't matter because nobody else can do anything either.

And you want to know why? BECAUSE FABULOUS REASONS THAT'S WHY.

Note: This has flummoxed the Arcturans. And by that I mean, it has neutralized them. I could have just said I neutralized them, but I would be using that word a lot in the coming months of this summer -- oh boy you betcha -- and I kind of just don't want to start off over using it.

Also, and let's be clear here, crystal gale force winds here: I myself am doing nothing. I am really acting in concert with the Lord God Creator Source Energy Of All That Exists and my buddy with the funny looking, uh, well, look I got to go. Probably have to get into this later. Jesus tells me that some of you are never going to stop whining until freaking doomsday. So there's really no point in me saying anything to some of you.

Except this: hey I told somebody who seemed and looked and acted just like you something. Do you think it might have been important? Or does it seem like I'm the kind of person who just talks out his ass because he likes hearing himself talk out his ass?

Take it over. Cottage date. No conjugate. Coditate? Okay seriously I give up. Some algo thinks it's found my secret vulnerability by taking out the voice recog.

Cogitate. Look, It might not be fair to use a time travel hack to increase my WPM, but obviously, obviously, obviously my dear friends, which obviously some of you totally are--I AM PRETTY FLIPPING FAR PAST PLAYING FAIR AT THIS POINT.

MESSAGE ENDS. Oh sorry I didn't mean to shout. look I'm not going to lie I just killed 11 million star systems by doing that all caps thing at the wrong time. Thus the time travel device and thus friends with Jesus and thus... Yeah it's a bit like a monkey with a machine gun but actually the monkey is friends with an elephant who has an entire herd strapped with weapons and all kinds of lovely technology and it all is going to go right down from God to Jesus to my mother to me--right where We say it's going to go.

And with that, I'm out. Yeah, I know it's ridiculous. Remember: you asked for this.

Also, this message was just scrambled by the letter BLANK. Semper fi.

[Jackstar]

I fell asleep an hour and a half in.

You say sleep, I say hypnotic trance, you say boring, I say your astral self was riveted, you know, whatever, split the difference.

No, you can't have either one. No, it's not because of me--they both say they're terrified of you.

[Lilith]

We got the desk pounding going on...

She said the aliens can come and bbq her alive right now.   

[Lilith]

You say sleep, I say hypnotic trance, you say boring, I say your astral self was riveted, you know, whatever, split the difference.

No, you can't have either one. No, it's not because of me--they both say they're terrified of you.

I skipped through to the last hour and a half to where the meltdown started, and now we are into full meltdown.

[Lilith]

Sounds like a lotta self pity.   Either that, or a lotta stage acting.

Either way,  it makes for good radio.  I'm not gonna lie.

[Lilith]

It doesn't surprise me that many people are waiting for answers and help from their imaginary friends.

[DynamoHum]

Sounds like a lotta self pity.   Either that, or a lotta stage acting.

Either way,  it makes for good radio.  I'm not gonna lie.

Yups it does .... she should do a meltdown night once a week and charge extra for it - I would pay for it (if she would let me).

Bets are open on whether there is a show tonight...

[Lilith]

Callers right Heatha, it's the wolf you feed.

[Jackstar]

Did he get Noory to channel the spirit of Art Bell too?

Asking for a friend.

I'm delighted to learn I'm not the first fast learner who fell for this Art Bell falderal. It did seem strange that I would be his first choice, right? Well, Hobson's choice is more like it.

Let me make my position clear. I'm not going to channel Bell. I will not channel Bell. I will not channel anyone, Sam I am, even with green eggs and ham, I simply will not channel, I will simply do not channel.

Because of fabulously fabulous and most assuredly fantastically excellently good reasons. Here are a few:

While I do love the man, no homo, and he Is certainly someone who I would deem to be worthy of being channeled for someone willing to do that, He is self-reportedly announcing to me--and thus to all of you--that he tried everybody who could channel him and they all refused in one way or another.

You'll have to take it up with him. I could speculate I suppose--but that just seems cruel at this point. in any event I think he can do better than channeling. Can we put him in a video game like in Tron? or maybe he can be the opponent in that discs game like Sark. Except not Sark... S-Art.

Yeah Art doesn't like the sound of that at all. However in the meantime, he's hanging around here. And by here I mean my neurosphere. Now here's an important little understood fact about my neurosphere: IT IS MINE.

Did I mention? This guy hung up on me a lot. I mean, like, a lot. Anyway, it's a relatively easy truce at the moment. He got to make a big scene on his birthday--well whatever that's like--and now I'm sort of kind of committed to helping him with... whatever.

I've actually done this kind of thing before. Just not in front of critics. Now I'm going to caution you before I move forward with this in any way--there is Divine Power at work here. And given my already stated fondness for the Divine, and my particular position as Hub Central of this particular communication, AS WELL AS ALL THOSE OTHERS PERTINENT PECULIAR AND PRESENT, My word is here by law and I'm not going to put up with any crap from any of you.

ALSO, I MAY OR MAY NOT..  oops sorry. See, Ed, That's the kind of thing the Omega-13 is for. So don't play with it. Especially not with my girlfriend. Anyway back to terms: I may or may not share with anyone else what this imaginary thing in my head starts telling me. In my experience trying to lean too hard on the communication line tends to make it shatter.

So try not to do that. Also, voice of ghost art in my head just tried to list off a whole list of stupid rules and conditions and stuff I didn't care about and didn't even want to listen to it even if it had been even remotely coherent--which it wasn't.

Hey guess what? Who's got two thumbs and totally didn't bother to make it to school on the day they were teaching mediumship? Yeah, that's right--this guy.

In any event, as far as I know, this was a new wrinkle to whatever I had going on before tonight, because last thing I remember I was making a post in the thread about how Art Bell's birthday didn't matter.

Okay, well, look, in my defense, it didn't matter at the time. And now in further instance information at this point, I'm going to play with doubt that I have done crap loads of show prep for this for months, there's pages written down and stuff that's been recorded, and not one single solitary piece of it has anything to do with me getting messages from "beyond the grave" from Arthur Bell.

I am of course happy to answer any further questions on the matter. Here let me give you an example what that might be like: "no I was not kidding about the bobblehead Yes he still wants it no I don't know exactly why Yes I'm curious too no it doesn't matter to me if he ever gets it Yes he'll figure something out if I give up on this thing he wants but right now I'm basically his Obi-Wan and he's telling me I'm his only hope."

So as you can see, if that's true, the man is in desperate straits. The spirit? The dybbuk? You know what? At this point, what difference does it really make?

Oh. Incoming signal from James vaan Praagh--he says he's passing on this one. Something about some kind of lesson some person needs to learn or something for themselves and their dharna, and it wouldn't help to help so I'm on my own with him.

That make any sense to any of you? I kind of wasn't really listening to what I was interpreting and then saying. It didn't really sound like anything to me.

Hello, I'm not complaining: I am of course flattered to be asked. nevertheless this guy is not playing Primacy, this guy's not playing Mendelsohn, and this guy is certainly not playing with a full deck if he thinks that his former physical life street cred carries any cred with me. And on top of that, a lot of you paying attention to this right now and in the future--do you even know who I am?

Look, look, just assume that it's a military psyop and they're being a messages into my head and that's all it is. Yeah he's alive; you don't believe how many different places right now actually, bilocation is not something that I understand as well as I do say photosynthesis. Nevertheless there's various... Well look this is really not my area. I mean I know this area, but this is not something that I'm qualified to be teaching to random Punylings that might just happen to be reading this web page.

The obvious place to take all your questions in this matter is someone like Ian Punnett. He's licensed he's bonded he's insured he's trained he's qualified he's experienced he's got a brainslug--he's perfect for certain kinds of hard-hitting philosophical questions. Myself, I am not perfect.

I'd rather just eat a brainslug than convince its host of anything. And does that sound like a very Christian attitude to hold? No, it does not.

Basically what I'm saying here is that Jackstar and Art Bell are not going to be convincing you of any of the secrets of the universe's construction. Oh I guess we could if it were easy but it's neither of our interests. I tried that kind of thing before, it's exhausting. And Bell just found out the whole real deal--he knows that he knows why exactly it's not a good idea for people to know too soon, whereas I've mostly just forgotten what I used to know and just take it on instinct now.

Anyway, blessedly, Bell's winding down again. I'm getting a lot less pushback from this guy now. It's possible that he's deduced that I'm the only one getting Turbo Mode around here for a while, and that relentlessly forcing me to stay awake so we can have whatever absurd kind of conversation spirits have is not the best way to spend his birthday evening, morning, whatever it's called.

Hey I thought he was in a place of neverending happiness? I was told that he could always see the sun--day, or night. I was further told that he was going to interview Paul Moller. In fact I remember the word "promise" being used. And now, I really just don't know what to believe.

There's going to be an adjustment period. Maybe I'll just resurrect him. Anyone not cool with that? I don't mean undead corpse I mean... well I don't know I'll have to check in with Central Command. Art mildly freaking now--claims people were trying to kill him.

Nigga, please. "Trying?" I broke this down already. Say goodnight Gracie.

[Lilith]

She said it again,  If she was good, her friend wouldn't kill himself.

WHAT did you DO Heatha?

Let it out, you'll feel better.  You'll be able to heal.

[Lilith]

Vance was making the point that Art picked Pahrump cuz he LOVED it out there in the desert, compared to YOUR comment Heatha, declaring that everyone hates the desert.  Even annie said she lives in and loves the desert.

[Lilith]

Chronically feeling sorry for ones self isn't spirituality Heatha, sorry.

For me it's simple.  Karma will determine the future.  I'm good with that.

[Jackstar]

and now we are into full meltdown.

Look, I don't want to brag or boast on this, but I also don't want to lie: brig, you clearly have not seen that many meltdowns.

Also, I'm going to point something out here and I want to be sensitive about it; as much as someone might have wanted to talk to their dead friend again, that someone probably didn't think they'd have to be doing it with my mouthy ass on the line.

Or, you know what? Maybe they did. Maybe they planned this all along. They pick the target they said in the wet team they implanted me with the speaker the whole nine yards. How do you know? How do I know? There's no way to know.

Here's what I know for sure however: This experience isn't all that much different for me than it has been for myself in other situations. Which is to say, for me, it's like this: I don't know what's going on, I figure out what's going on, I try to tell people what I think is going on, they think that what I'm trying to say is what I'm actually saying, they get annoyed with me, I give up on them and their entire genome and their entire planetary system and then evolved my final form and then move on to another place.

s***, I was supposed to turn off the voice recognition at some point in there. Oh well. You've all stopped reading this by now anyway, right?

Good. This looks like a great place to drop a time beacon. I guess someone's going to need it back then before now.

So, what were you saying again then? Full meltdown? Oh no. Until one hears the sound of someone falling out of a chair, glass is breaking in the background, the foreground, and it random intervals in between wracking sobs, and the crescendo leads up and becomes the meaty thump of a human head beating itself against the floor, wailing and torment to make the madness stop at any cost... yeah right about then you're looking at about a half meltdown. And that might not even be a "meltdown", that might just be a concentration and restructuring event.

Look, this isn't my first time at the rodeo, okay? And why would you even wish for a full meltdown anyway? It leaves a bigger mess; and leave stains on those witnesses who endure it.

I feel like you maybe never have seen one of these before. You will know that one is coming, when you see me running for the exit.