Dimwits of Pseudo-Science
"An economist is one who speaks
Of things he does not understand,
Yet makes you feel the fool who seeks
A grasp on all that's planned."
— Herbert Prochnow
These frauds of fog and tangled lies—
Save math and physics, all is dust.
Their books confuse, their jargon ties
Even themselves in webs of rust.
And yet, with graphs and gadgets bare,
They lead—but where? They have no clue.
Their masters do—the ones who tear
The soul apart, then sell it new.
Through babbling nonsense, dull and grim,
They crush the mind, they dull the spark.
And media joins in with them—
A chorus spreading lies in dark.
The fool who serves, so proud, so blind,
Licks at the boots of beasts above.
No thought, no soul, no higher mind—
Just hollow words for hollow love.
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Sense of Nonsense
The Sense of Nonsense—key to stay,
To keep a mind both sharp and free.
For reason’s crushed in brutal play,
Yet feeling sees what eyes don’t see.
If you can cast the nonsense out,
Let instinct rise above the mind,
Then let it grow, erase all doubt—
And wisdom stays, refined.
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To the Summit!
Do not walk—rise up in flight!
There’s no other way to go.
This was always nature’s right,
Now as ever—leave the low!
Depths are foul, a shameful snare,
Only Spirit—burning bright—
Stands as real in dark despair,
Guided by its inner light.
Only fire within can show
Paths beyond the choking night.
Fall to lies, deceit, and woe—
And you're lost without a fight.
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The Path to a Distant Land
The fascist lie, a shroud so tight,
Keeps minds in chains, obscures the light,
It molds the fools in fearful ranks,
And drives them deep to terror’s banks.
Their hollow cries grow wild, insane,
A twisted choir of grief and pain…
Yet still they march, yet still they kneel—
Blind to the fate they help to seal.
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Mammoth
Mammoth gone? No, mammoth stays!
Lies still guide his twisted ways.
Since the rules were first decreed—
Only he may learn and lead.
All alone, he claims the right,
Blind to truth beyond his sight.
Scorns the sense that whispers near,
Yet without it—lost in fear.
Sense is light, but he obeys
Black-and-white, the mind’s decay.
Trapped in logic, cold and grim,
Doom is certain, bound to him.
Falsehood fades, its time is done,
Truth will rise with morning’s sun.
A new world will shape and grow—
Where intuition reigns to know.
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Cupid and the Riders of the Apocalypse
Cupid, fool, your aim is wrong—
Love, when all won’t last for long?
Hooves are pounding, cold as stone,
Be their herald—ride, be gone!
Let your wings bring news to those
Pure of heart, still sensing fate.
See and check—the end soon shows.
Curse it loud, but don’t be late!
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The Eternal Song of Blatherskite
Suicide’s a wicked sin—
A waste of meat, yet he keeps driving
The herds to slaughter, kith and kin,
For ages—Blatherskite’s surviving.
He shifts his shape, he hides his face,
Yet still his song remains the same.
A traitor dares to shun the race
Of chains, enclosures, death, and shame.
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Roulette of Pseudo-Life
Odd and even, even, odd—
Yet this roulette seems so flawed:
Whole numbers spin—oh, can't you see?
I would rather bet on Pi.
Golden ratio haunts my mind,
Not a day it stays behind.
Every thought comes back to Phi,
While the world just sighs: "Oh my!"
Cash and status rule the game—
Roulette’s flaw remains the same.
So I place it all on zero,
Though it shines, it isn’t hero.
"Yes" or "no"—a mere machine,
But the world is in between.
Trust your senses, look around—
See the shades that can't be found...
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Twist Them Tight!
"The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure, and the intelligent are full of doubt."
— Bertrand Russell
No doubt! No fear! March on, be bold!
Our leader guides us to pure gold.
And if you’re not with us—beware!
He’ll raise his hand and shout: "Go tear!"
We’ll hunt them down, we’ll break their backs,
We’ll chase them, sniff out all their tracks.
Those clever fools—we’ll make them pay,
They’re spineless worms—so bend, obey!
Twist them tight and don’t delay!
Drag the nearest scum away!
A worthy foe is what we lack—
Once all those thinkers hit the sack,
Once madhouse doors and jails are filled,
We’ll march ahead, we won’t be stilled.
Against outsiders, strike and burn—
Our flag will fly, our ways will turn
Into the norm for mindless sheep
Who trust the lies, obey, don’t weep.
And those who dare to doubt—beware!
The weak in war have no place there.
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Brutodrome
Glad to serve!
Why observe
All those foolish dreams of mind?
In the FILTH, I'm feeling fine!
Bow and follow, praise the lie,
Evil wears a saintly guise.
Eat, breed, babble—don’t ask why,
Live it up—till no one dies...
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Distilling Rot into Rant
The system rots—it’s nothing new,
For centuries, we’ve watched it stew.
But now the rot itself has fled,
All that remains is stench and RANT.
Beyond this RANT, so few survive,
Once more, we’ll build—bring back to life
A world that’s torn, consumed by blight,
Worn-out, exhausted, drained of light.
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Humans and Humanoids
Ego will lead you into the void,
A hollow world, so loud, yet empty.
The worthy few stand unalloyed—
But who is real, and who pretends be?
It isn’t hard to tell apart—
Their eyes will shine or stare so lifeless.
Divided deep, in soul and heart,
Though outward marks are blurred and sightless.
That emptiness… it weighs us down,
Without paradox, life’s just fiction.
Darkness will claim its rightful crown—
CowID’s the test: the mice show friction.
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Chemtrails Reflect the Sun’s Fierce Rays
They spray the skies with chemtrail streams,
Not at night—so faint, they fade from sight…
By day, a silver veil redeems
The air from sunlight’s burning might.
The raging Sun keeps turning cruel,
Its scorching beams will leave no trace—
It burns the world, no shade, no fuel,
A prelude to the End of Days.
And fools stand blind—they cannot see,
No thought, no reason, none will heed.
The ones who think—not just agree—
Are cast aside by fools and freaks.
For those who know, one path remains:
A Spirit’s Road beyond this lie.
When this zoo burns in crimson flames,
Their souls will flee to worlds on high.
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A Touch of "Madness" for True Knowing
The Mine of Death—
A well of lies.
Go test it, lest
You pay the price.
The mind goes blind
In halls of lore—
But cracked, it finds
A sharper core.
Less of "facts"—
More sense, more feel.
All true knowledge
Drips, not spills.
Yet intuition, strong and wise,
May turn the trickle to a tide.
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Marine and "Nerd"
Marines—
They win.
The troops—
All in.
The "nerd"—a joke,
A pawn, a clown.
The bureaucrat—
He wears the crown.
A traitor’s praised,
A king of lies.
— Who needs the Lyre?
— It slowly dies...
The scholar, the crook,
The jester in power—
They poison the souls,
Make masses cower.
Deception reigns,
Truth is denied.
Who needs the Lyre?
Their life’s designed—
From bistro to the latrine aligned...
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"School"—So They Say
Memory overload’s the key—
To rot the school intentionally.
A fool’s no fluke, but just the rule,
As nonsense turns the mind to gruel.
And all the manners, all the grace—
Just tricks to keep deep thoughts erased.
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Rejecting Evil
We resist—yet we obey,
Bound by fear, we walk astray.
Then we stumble all our lives,
Turning all the world to dust.
Evil’s vast, corrupts the soul,
To reject it makes us whole.
Dare to stand, refuse to bend—
Cast the Darkness to its end.
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Intuition
To wake from coma—
Means to rise,
Leave the familiar
World behind.
Step toward Spirit—
Life is there.
Sense it, feel it—
Poets dare.
Push perception
To the brink.
Hard at first?
Just act—don’t think.
Mind surrenders,
Turns to steel.
Not by learning,
But to feel.
Answers come
Through keen insight,
Crushing nonsense
With its light.
Rant is coma—
Time to wake!
World’s a tumor—
Bend, you break.
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The Upside-Down Mountain
The pit grows deeper—digging down,
Still chasing bedrock, far below.
It’s damp and dark, no light, no ground,
Yet miners toil—their task is so.
The money flows? Then dig with pride!
They’ll carve a hole both vast and grand.
And books will tell the kids in time:
"That mountain once stood tall and planned."
A new pit comes, and youth will learn
To dig once more, to carve the past.
And doubts will fade, as echoes turn:
"Those men were heroes to the last!"
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"Choice"
A squirrel runs—round and round.
They shout: "You’re free to choose!"
Yet in her mind, so tightly bound,
Lies nothing but obtuse.
Pick a bar—you get to choose
Which one will keep you spinning.
Trapped in lies, they chase the ruse,
Convinced that they are winning.
Young ones learn to jump and race,
Never pause, just keep on striving.
No one dares to say: this "choice"
Is nothing but conniving.
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