Go Home, Alternate Reality Construct. You're Apocalyptic.





I know what you're thinking-- is this a headline from 2009? Sadly, no. 

Yes, under normal circumstances, this nonsense would be as newsworthy as a Paris Hilton sextape but normal circumstances called in sick this year. 2017 is covering for them. 

So if you're still nostalgic for 2017, dig those fidget-spinners and pussy-hats out of the attic because there's loads more 2017 on the way.  




OK, I don't know if you heard, but all of the top pop sensations are getting themselves all woke! since the election. 

And so they're descending from their carbon-bombs private 737s like Olympians to create Twitter-stupid musical manifestos about how horrible the system that made them so obscenely-wealthy is. 

To show just how woke! they are, these superstars hire hundreds of the top producers, designers and CIA mind-control consultants directors to create music videos whose production and promotion budgets combined could literally feed every single homeless person in any decent-sized American city for a year or more. 


We shouldn't blame the pop superstars, though. Most of them have been raised like veal since before they lost their baby teeth. 

They are told exactly what to sing, say and wear every minute of every day. They have literal corporations that need to be kept afloat and scores- if not hundreds-- of people whose livelihoods depend on their continued mega-success.

Now, I've been telling everyone who will listen that this year's Super Bowl and Halftime Show are probably going to be extremely important insofar as messaging is concerned, and Justin Timberlake dropped his new single "Supplies" justin time.  

"Filthy," the previous single, had a Robot Apocalypse theme and so "Supplies" has an apocalypse-Apocalypse theme. Because 2018. 

"Supplies" is filmed by elitist's elitist director David Meyers-- who, shock-of-all-shocks, is a Loyola alumni. Meyers dutifully packs the spot with all kinds of radical-chic imagery in a distinctly MKULTRA-training-film manner.

Like pretty much every other music video these days.


The video even has Justin and his ass-kickin' fake girlfriend stick it to the Ruling Class, man, who are some kind of dumbass Fifth Element rejects. I guess all the Monopoly Man costumes had been rented for the new Coldplay video and they had to improvise.

By the way, Justin Timberlake and David Meyers? You know these pasty-white parasitical Aristocrats your woke! Ronda Rousey here is Nazi-punching? 

That's literally you. 

You do know you are the pasty-white parasitical aristocrats, right? You and pretty much everyone else you know or associate with? You are the Ruling Class.

No, seriously. Look it up.


Anyway, it all blows up into an apocalypse (I guess) and ends with an adorable little moppet channeling this important message from Timberlake and Co.: �Just leave. Die already.�

She's talking to you and me, in case that wasn't eye-stabbingly obvious already. 

What else is new, right?


Anyway, that little camera glitch-out confirms what I had suspected when I heard "Filthy"; someone in Timberlake's camp was poking around on YouTube for cabaret-shows and stumbled upon Cabaret Voltaire, the art-damaged British Industrial-Synthpop pioneers who Nine Inch Nails and Ministry were already plagiarizing over thirty thirty years ago. 

Thus, "Supplies" is rife with mega-budget retreads of the kinds of techno-apocalyptic imagery the Cabs pioneered long before Timberlake was even born.


Even this setpiece here, which some have compared to Bowie in Man Who Fell to Earth...



...strikes me as yet another Cabs rip, in light of the other evidence.


But in a shockingly non-coincidental coincidence, "Supplies" ends in a conspicuously Orange wasteland...


...an identical Twin to the nuked-out Las Vegas of Blade Runner 2049. 

Stop, Justin. This is all too stunningly surprising. I have a heart condition. Please.

Stop. My heart. It can't take the strain.


And in the shocker of all shocking shocks, Timberlake flies the Orange on his new album cover. 

I know, I know; I was just floored when I saw that one too. Wow.

Let's move on before the angina kicks in again.


Proving he is either an Illuminist finger-puppet, Satanic jackanapes or just a pathologically attention-starved cringe-toaster, Marilyn Manson posed himself from the top floor of Mandalay Bay, overlooking the Harvest 91 Festival site.

Oh, Marilyn. Stop. You're too shocking for us, Marilyn. Stop. Please. 

I'm too shocked by your shockingness.


Speaking of Heaven Upside Down, the Vegas sideshow shambles on. 

Lacking a motive after several weeks of wacking off to Furry porn investigation, we're seeing all kinds of Hail Mary's thrown hither and yon, including a possible indictment against a mystery accomplice and the tried-and-true kiddy-porn two-step they shut Paddock's brother up with busted Paddock's brother for. Who happened to be hospitalized at the time. In traction.

I feel for LVMPD Chief Lombardo, I really do. It can't be any fun going along with this charade.



Speaking of blatantly-obvious fallen-angel rituals, you knew this was going to happen, didn't you?

With the ol' Westboro-styled "religious nut" protest seeding the field, they pulled out another trusty ol' monkey-wrench from the toolkit. 

Phylax --or Talos or Satan or whoever the fuck else these amateur-hour chuckleheads are pretending this lifesize Semjaza action-figure here is supposed to be -- was torn from his pedestal by what sounds very much like a military-intelligence special-projects squad (who showed up in a truck and two jeeps-- no, seriously) the other day.

Unfortunately, there were witnesses-- and the Maxwell Smart-level ops guys forgot to gun them down-- so back into the old makeup-chest they went...


...and pulled out the old "Extreme Right" greasepaint. 

One teensy little problem: Greece's extreme right-wingers aren't Westboro-type agents provocateur Christian fanatics but...


...Neopagans. Oops. 



In fact, an Orthodox Metropolitan --or archbishop-- recently went after the Golden Dawn with hammer-and-tongs over their heathen idolatry. Plus, the Metropolitan was quoted as saying, you do know those Golden Dawn pussies like little boys too, right? 

Yeah, they like the little boys a lot, if you get my meaning. They like the little boys all night long.

And how about this beard, eh? Like it? Nice, right? Yeah, before I entered seminary I was in Europe's #1 ZZ Top tribute-band, "The Sharp-Dressed Men." I played Dusty. 

Know what else? I actually had this thing insured back then. No, seriously. True story.  


And there it is: the most 2018 headline I've seen thus far.


The tl;dr here is that Satanists believe that taking one's aggressions out on sex robots will relieve stress and make for a healthier, happier society. Sounds legit.

But I think this is a revised version of an earlier Church of Satan white-paper which recommended that nascent serial killers take out their psychoses on the pets in their neighborhood. The Church claimed that this will help a budding psychopath blow off steam and will curb his appetite for eventually trying his hand at slaughtering humans. 

Satanists. They fucking love science.



Of course, Psychosis is ecumenical, as you all know from this little horror story. 

But I can't help but wonder-- are those children or are they clones? Having grown up in Braintree, I know all about 'Irish twins', but unless these are all twins and triplets I'm having a wee bit of trouble with the age range here.


Reason I ask is that we also found out that the patriarch of this little brood worked for one of the world's top peddlers of mechanized murder, Northrup Grumman.  

God. The shocks. Can my poor heart take any more.


Yeah, that factoid got my attention. Call me crazy but I couldn't help but think of this photo here when scanning through shots of the Turpin clan. 

You?


And this shot here-- where the Turpins are numbered-- and called Things-- doesn't exactly throw me off that scent.

I mean, military-industrial complex, CIA-spawned religious nonsense, weird psychological meltdown-- I mean, this all sounds a bit X-Files to me. 



And just like clockwork, we have a big Heaven or Las Vegas angle to this yarn. 

I mean, seriously-- did any of you out there expect that it wouldn't?

Bonus 2017 bonus: Elvis.

Can't wait for the horrifying expos� on this family and secret MK programs and/or genetic testing that we'll see on The Intercept or AlterNet once no one is paying attention anymore.




EXTRA: The new Secret Sun Radio Mystery Hour is up! Raj and I dig into 'This' and 'Plus One' and ask the musical question, "Does the New Season of the X-Files Take Place in an Alternate Reality," 

Timely! Current!




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Twilight of the Immortals