Country General Store

by cybersensei | September 14, 2024 | Blog, Civilization

Country General Store

Everyone, no matter what, begins from a designated starting gate—initiation into Earth’s atmosphere via the sacred womb—wherever, whenever that may happen to be.

Born into the neo clan of free-range avatars—life never ‘gets in the way’—for it is written in the mainframe of the brain—the silver spoon is a double-edged sword, with a razor-sharp edge and, more often than not, unpredictable delusional rage.

Get up again and again, it’s just a game—life began at a country general store—what’s more, this is where the protocol was born: follow the sun, beholden to none.

Pondering the future as a boy of destiny The curmudgeon of an old Anglican Occidental tradition and his dimwitted wife were the profiteers proprietors of this general store.

The invisible hands of the sublime are measured in earthy time, his came and went in no time.

This most valuable lesson, a gift from Muse—pay attention to such incidents—there is no such thing as ‘coincidence.’

Adhering to the protocol of ‘in ga ō hō‘ (divine retribution) came a principled visceral reward—‘life is an infinity event’—thus, it was so.

What goes around comes around 因果応報 - Land ΩF The Rising SΩN - cybersensei One fine morning, on a daily routine, a quick car ride to the bank initiated this surreal scene—life spent in the subpar category of lesser human beings—killed on the spot by a drunk driver—smeared onto Highway 97B at 11:30 in the morning, never to be heard from again, nor seen.

Shortly after this untimely exit, and thanks so very much to our tutelary deity, a position at the Liquor Control Board of British Columbia was arranged serendipitously—this Incidental Occxie was given a brief reprieve—$11.75 an hour, rich beyond belief.

$11.75 congratulations This is where the full realization about the majority of government employees and their backhanded machinations radiated like an LCD (liquid crystal display).

Having started the monetary journey based in actual reality—real life starts really early—scrubbing floors and the lavatory of our tutelary deity’s Datsun car lot—peeling spuds at Fili’s deli—enshrined an unshakable work ethic, coincidentally.

A plethora of complainers, along with whiners and life-long loafers, infested this particular anemic matrix game.

The road going nowhere the destination is despair Hop, skip, and jump, to the Land of the Rising Sun, leaving this miserable ramshackle atmosphere behind—January 11, 1987—welcome to the exquisite notion of an esoteric ancient society encased in the kaizen of modernity.

The gift of the gab was inherited from the hilarious, jocular side of Maggie May—what’s not to love about talking people’s faces off, while internalizing the secrets of the Japanese—with their ancient customs and quirky proclivity of modernity—the spiritual embodiment of ‘life in all things.’

laughter joy humor are the elixir of the world Things escalate quickly, as there is only one Incidental Occxie, along with massive piles of opportunity—it was time to seek help, which is when a stark reality came into being.

The deep contrast between one who was forged at a country general store and the tenderfoot mal-matriculated university graduates, coming in at several degrees below average—were they also stupified, or were they not?

Importing and exporting atoms and molecules to and from Japan triggered an emergency signal—‘work must be done’—in order to communicate with pinpoint accuracy—‘read fluently’—cajole sourpuss bureaucrats operating the fiefdom of Japanese Customs as empowered government employees.

Mean customs agentー堂々巡り祭り Following the sun leads to really weird places—’drug research laboratory’—by virtue of more serendipity, and the need to feed the family, becoming an incidental scientist was the way Muse had scripted life to be.

After years of osmosis and clearly understanding the inner workings of ‘laboratories’—this quasi-scientist had had enough, thus deep wells of gratitude for the magic spells of TBG.

The nascent Internet was sent as a sublime gift—Photoshop 1.0—into the world of computers launching Civilization Three—humanoid avatars can only catch an instinctive glistening as to where this whole thing is supposed to be—the unfolding mystery of—‘seity’—what it means to follow the sun.

The possibilities are endless when you listen to Museー無限 The beauty of wabi-sabi permeates this ancient plane, along with powerful resonating frequencies radiating from the Colors of Japan—having coincidentally emerged at the urging of sublime hidden forces.

Life in Material Sludge flips 180° to 360° to 720° into infinity—the secret is the open book of endless possibilities—when embracing each day along with the beloved tutelary deities—now having a reason to live life in authenticity.

secrets in the open book with endless possibilities spewing from the open book Clear away the cacophony of endless self-chatter and face reality—each humanoid avatar is accompanied by individual guiding spirits, now identified as ‘seity.’

Thus, so it will be—the animated world of this Incidental Witch, with a very curious itch, inside the phantasmagorical world of TBG.

Flow Into ΩNE - 万物

Harvardtard

by cybersensei | September 7, 2024 | Blog, Education, Enlightenment

Harvardtard

Dropping the name of a famous Ivy League university is supposed to be a powerful calling card, and for the Japanese, the importance of the almighty meishi cannot be understated.

Having only heard about what are known as the ‘Ivy League,’ the filters surrounding these institutions were to be observed with some kind of reverence, and the output of such institutions is for the good of all humanity.

Thus, a Harvardtard graduate, hailing from the crumbling city of Detroit, Michigan, chose to jump into a commercial conversation with his Ivy League credentials, which represented his entire life’s narrated story.

Detroit as dystopia It is not what you know, but who you know; an open secret to piles of dough—consider it a well-established protocol in what used to be hallowed halls, now reduced to stupifaction indoctrination centers, the lowest of the low.

This Harvardtard bro, also the leader of a quirky group of business people who named themselves ‘fruits in suits,’ happened to be connected to the world of telomeres in the grand city of New York.

telomeres merging with the grand city of New York Instantaneously, the molecule trader instincts kicked in, quickly developing curiosity about these emerging health and welfare technological trends, along with the desire to be a catalyst for the continuing health and longevity of a vibrant neo-community of Japanese.

The first meeting was a wash, as Harvardtard bro was mixed up over and over again, unable to read time or the schedule on a calendar—three changes, and then you are out, and this is where the story continues, soon to end.

The final failure of this fatally flawed project was the absence of mind and missing the all-important meeting with the powers that be overseas, who were holding the keys to the telomeres scene.

This concludes the tale of the Harvardtard bro, who called himself ‘a fruit in a suit,’ to fade away, never to be seen again.

It matters not where you came from, it matters who you are today The second grave disappointment and new fly in Harvard’s ointment was the failure to understand that all who aspire to reach much higher are standing on the shoulders of giants, or so Sir Isaac has opined.

We must be reverent of those who went before and made modern life extraordinary, to reflect and build upon ideas that have stood the test of time—this does not include this particular institution’s president, who is also a red-handed plagiarist, for which Harvard has received serious black eyes.

two black eyes The last act in this egregious, shameful Harvardtard theater is the malady of stagnation and politicization of such a highly regarded academic institution—an utterly unforgivable protocol that couches itself as a center of ‘higher learning with a moral code.’

The magnitude of Harvard’s failure ignited a discussion about the intentional suppression of intellectual freedom and the corrupt, entrenched power structures within not just Harvard, but amongst a broad swath of universities in perpetual decay.

The brilliant minds trapped inside stagnating education schemes are soon to be released; corruption of knowledge eventually dies, only to be naturally replaced.

break free from the chains Regeneration of the way of matriculation—the neo-prototype phase of the reconstitution of education, with unprecedented paradigm shifting, is now complete and on its way.

Bungaku Mama Juku Juku, a luminous example of the future of education, folded into beams of brilliant light showing the way. 津田大学と梅子先生の弟子達 Knowledge and reach, the vision to see—humanity jumping into the flow—outside the industrial fray.

As for this decomposing university and the stupefied Harvardtard graduates, experts with ‘4-year degrees’—along with a gaggle of administrative minions enacting a vulgar charade.

The world looks on you with a deep sense of shame and distrust, a cesspool of corruption—Harvard’s just reward is nothing more than a much-deserved failing grade.

無知蒙昧工場

Stupification

by cybersensei | August 31, 2024 | Blog, Education, Enlightenment

Stupification

Intentional stupification straight out of the starting gate—instantiated into this viscous, visceral, material sludge called earth—animated as a humanoid avatar—drawing the short end of the stick, an unwilling participant in the nascent industrial education complex petri dish—and through this, someone somewhere at others’ expense got rich.

The proof is in the Yorkshire pudding, as this trending old adage reads—the first acrid taste of industrial evil is all that remains to be said.

Proof in pudding Elementary school, two classes of grade ones—who was in charge of the curriculum matters not—what is important is the origin of such a malicious plot—the ancillary minions of the industrial overlords stupified one class, the other one not.

Wickedness circa ’69, malignant indoctrinated government employees programmed in autocratic mal-matriculated ways—clearly related to the abhorrent human mind disease and the accompanying spirit of decay.

Those who cannot read are destined to a life of peonage and its attending misery, you see.

The child miners of Congo - Land Of The Rising Son A novel reading system for the implementation of stupification using the protocol Initial Teaching Alphabet (ITA)—a piss-poor way to start an academic life—regardless, embrace the day.

The abject failure of sub-standard instructors left this experimental class far behind, in essence, left for dead—in the blink of an eye, a merciless jackboot from behind—off to grade two with no reading skill, and no clue. Elementary Grade One-November 3 1969 All the worse yet, there was no time to hone poetic prowess, therefore, to opine about the meaning of life and what it means to become Master Robert Greene’s follower, thus joining the ranks of the sublime.

Robert Greene and his disciples
Problems perpetually seething, then bubbling up, culminating in a massive blackhead full of sycophants and cucks—pusillanimous juveniles in adult skin getting schooled by small children in whom curiosity, doubt, and reason are inherent, where all authentic stories begin, by now this should be apparent.

The fact remains, we are not the same; willful ignorance and tyrannical malice are to be challenged, every step of the way.

It matters not what is inscribed in the playbook of mediocrity—the epitome of lifelessness, ignorance, and banality of ‘teachers’—early representatives of the industrial educational indoctrination F Team.

Crazy Teachers
Such a story can take any of many forks in the road, appearing in the nooks and crannies of emerging civilized humanity.

The foundational universal principles of Maggie May and her timeless protocol—‘embrace the day’—is what she used to say, to wipe this wayward autodidact’s raging tears away.

A chip on the shoulder, a pep in the step, induced by this early industrial grind—led to a satisfying protocol of the practical, and oh so very useful kind.

A pivotal moment of clarity is the notion to follow innate curiosity—she guides y0u to where you are supposed to be—mentation of things manifestly seen—each seity, a distinctive way—‘embrace the day.’

無知蒙昧ー反面教師 Internalize Japanese until the phacken eyes bleed; this untamed wild beast must speak, read, write, and feel Japanese.

Muse penetrates stupified souls by showing the intent and purpose of life’s game—a wisp of fairy dust into the eyes, so as to see life in all things—万物—much more intelligibly.

Muse with children 温故知新 Throughout the nooks of random books, inside the crannies of the mind—ancient philosophers embrace modern times—hallowed halls of immortal wisdom and emergent knowledge—potent antidotes initiating de-stupification of a weary, exploited, enfeebled mind.

The never-ending flow of consistent methodology drawing from the well of the river of infinity—creation of an ideal situation, as you will soon see, fortifying all theories of renewed sentient beings.

万物Ω

Eighty-Four Suns

by cybersensei | August 24, 2024 | Blog, Enlightenment

Eighty-Four Suns

What does it feel like to witness the arc of modern humanity—viewing this earthly spectacle—from analog to digital and every spectacular spectrum in between?

August 24, 1940—Margaret (Maggie) Richardson entered Earth’s atmosphere via Christina Primrose Addison, the first granddaughter of Really Great Grandmother.

Christina Primrose Addison What has carried Maggie through the trials and tribulations of a pioneering life, hardships where I was there to bear witness, facing life together as one?

From early on, it was clearly understood that resilience and fortitude were the mind-frames to embrace, guiding one through the nooks and crannies of a materialized existence, navigating murky waters and dark alleys of the emerging human soul.

Maggie as a guiding light As she often said with a comforting smile, she is the originator of the ‘daily embrace’ after all—where each new day is a restart, a blank canvas for a trapped piece of soulful art, regardless of what lies within the fray of any particularly icky, grimy frame of an industrialized day.

Harsh winters and bitter cold forged iron and mineral into forbearance, creating deep wells flush with eternal gratitude mixed with copious amounts of fortitude—bubbling effervescently from the nooks and crannies of Maggie’s enduring soul.

Naturally, it came to be that her personalized ‘seity’ led her to the “earth mother” scene—like an incarnation of a wise deity, a mother to those who had no one—her endless tears of empathy filling black holes in humanity’s soul and soothing raging, savage beasts.

Tears for humanity The protocol of talking to strangers and the enrichment from such encounters are testaments to a life flowing from within, awakening those who feel the vibrations of her energy and enlightened spin.

Maggie May has now been playing this phantasmagorical game for over eight decades, collecting eighty-four suns with many more to come, for she too, was mandated to follow the sun.

Shake the molecules, Maggie, like no one else can—from humble beginnings to a seminal historical figure, a reflection of ingrained humanity of the most rarefied air—an incarnate of an earthly deity who dared to care about others.

Maggie as a goddess Indeed, the mysterious Maverick who came himself to see, on a pilgrimage in its own right, stated frankly: “I got the same vibe and felt her presence just like when meeting His Holiness the Dalai Lama”—a delightful, unsolicited review, to say the least.

Forever modest, she is also gracious, having traveled the world over and become privy to the emerging human condition and thus, everyone’s games.

An astute observer of culture and society, she illuminates ideal suppositions at the forks in the road facing all humans, always pointing to the hard road—where there is less hope and more vision, exposing the evil of suffering to poignant light—a soulful release.

utopia dystopia Perseverance proved to be a practical protocol to which she adheres—after years of self-administered education, a quasi-matriculation of actualization, she took the long road to a psychology degree—the script written in the stars by ‘seity.’

The sublime Maggie May, instantiated as an earth mother on a fateful August day in 1940, was sent to battle by her neo clan’s tutelary deities, mandated to create a sanctuary for the psychological care of the frazzled and downtrodden.

A meeting of minds where infinite energy flows to optimized resolutions—her sympathetic ear gives broken heartstrings a gentle tug, and with a wink and a nudge, she clears away the fear of facing deeply rooted sorrows of yesteryears.

Master your emotions says Maggie May No one can know when it is time to go, but true to form, Maggie lights the eternal flame of benevolence toward each other, embodying the model of a modern woman hailing from ancient traditions.

One fine day, she too, by the koi pond, will know that the next step is to return to flow—something she has always known.

The prodigious daughter of the Richardson clan—take your place, Maggie May, as the archetypal matriarch—Earth Mother of Kizuna Shrine—matriarch of the neo clans—genesis of Civilization Three.

Lawrence Joseph Filiatrault the tutelar deity of Kizuna Jinjaー絆神社の氏神フィリアトロー・ローレンス

No Carping

by cybersensei | August 17, 2024 | Blog, Enlightenment

No Carping

Inside a disastrous mouth flows an infinite river of gobbledygook secretion—carping about the short end of a random stick—inertia is a bizarre game of an abysmally constructed life-frame—the total loss of reason.

Indeed, a certain segment of the Japanese have the art of the carp down to a passive-aggressive science, playing everyone like a finely tuned Stradivarius fiddle in a highly refined game—welcome to the FRAY.

Played like a fiddle no time to diddle tune in the frequency to the Way

The Japanese Cultural Code Words arasagashi saliently describes the art of nitpicking.

This is where a highly refined form of unpleasant passive-aggressive behavior reaches the pinnacle of high art—a specialty of the Japanese.

Be that as it may, appreciating the magic of arasagashi facilitates a sticky-icky wash-away of the enigmatic veneer of Japanese peers within this hierarchical society to which all citizens of the Shingo era must honor and adhere.

peel it all away Finely tuned microscopic details reveal a surreal abstract notion of arcane non-verbal communication protocol—dial in to see *\(^o^)/*

To edify those with a quest to know of mysterious Japanese societal protocol—when feeling the squeeze of surrounding walls, indeed—when doubt creeps in, the why wearing dangerously thin—certain this time would be the final downfall—not at all—the spirit of your tutelary deity gazing upon a manifested material destiny via the God shelf portal wall.

wazuwai tejite fuku to nasu—災い転じて福となす—disaster to advantage

Once upon a time, in a spectral instance of a phantasmagorical kind, a newborn baby boy wrapped in beaver fur was abandoned at the inner sanctum of the of Kizuna Jingu’s historical koi pond.

Koi pond with baby It just so happened that two seminal female educational pioneers heard this forlorn baby boy’s subtle tears.

Ms. Alice Bacon, a Victorian-era power matron, and beloved Aunty Tsuda Umeko, a refined, sublime creation of Meiji-era Japan, were strolling by.

As the ladies meandered along at dusk on the cusp of the Shingo Restoration at the emergence of Civilization Three’s dawn, they chatted excitedly about the merger of their two extraordinary civilizations and how Ms. Bacon’s and Aunty Umeko’s worlds go hand in hand in homeostatic unity as archetypal matriarchs of dignity and reason.

Aunty Umeko Alice Bacon and Muse and Tsuda Umero circa 1969 Is this a miracle or happenstance?

Perhaps all things in life are left to the fickle finger of fate, or chance and circumstance.

Was this a divine intervention, a molecular wake-and-bake, if you will—invoking a novel narration into material existence—could this be the elusive golden thumb of rule?

Providence shone upon the Rising Son as Japanese Sun Goddess, the exalted Amaterasu, sent him on an incredible journey swirling around the whirlpool of life, with a mandate to follow the Sun—this fantastic story begins with humble beginnings at the edge of the Kizuna Jinja koi pond.

Great talent matures late Alice and Umeko could not resist their hearts speaking to each other via powerful intuition—i shin den shin—the edict from Muse—create a deep reach of infinite floods of knowledge as they too flow, as all do inevitably becoming ΩNE.

Raise the Rising Son as your neo-clan, force him through trials and tribulations molding him into a renaissance man—it matters not how many generations, the script has been written with endless takes.

The Incidental Occxie is a gift to you two—your one and only son—raise him well so as to reach destiny—this fable has been consecrated by the truth of ΩNE.

Drill knowledge deep into his thick skull while mollifying the chip on his shoulder—this wayward autodidact must be forged by fire—pour the hallowed oil of desire, stoking the insatiable notion of flow into ΩNE.

Flow Into ΩNE - 万物 As has been foretold, the koi pond comes once again, the final chapter of this fable being written, where the fork in the road leads to ΩNE.

Transition from material to ephemeral—disassociation from nature ends—reanimation upon conclusion of this state of being—reveals that there is no end.

The beginning at the end with koi Return to the reality of the infinite nature in harmony with spectral spirits known as ‘seity’—embedded inside all beings inhabiting the nooks and crannies of humanity’s highest visionary dreams.

At the end of the material sludge fray is where Tsuda Umero joins the tutelar deities by the Kizuna Jinja’s koi pond—release the fleeting remnants of his bio-material sludge on the final earth day.

Enlightenment is the tingling notion of your own neo clan’s magic potion—reflecting the levels of valor and raw power of manifested tutelar deities.

Click the button to see the nature of ‘seity’—primordial ancestral spirits indeed—the reality of nature fully revealed—the quantum playing field—mentation of the surreal into lucid illusions—the subliminal embodiment of surreal delusions.

The transition from material to ephemeral

Onoda Hirō Sama

by cybersensei | August 10, 2024 | Blog, Inspiration

Onoda Hirō Sama

What is the meaning of a true friend?

Originally, it encompassed trust, loyalty, and honour, among other noble innate traits of conscious, conscientious humans.

The meaning of friendship and its embedded Universal Truth was succinctly described by Onoda Hirō, an exemplary example of loyalty to one’s ancestors and as a citizen of Japan.

“If you have some thorns in your back, someone needs to pull them out for you. We need friends. The sense of belonging is born in the family and later includes friends, neighbors, community, and country. That is why the idea of a nation is really important.”Omnipresent social constructs, cultural protocols, and encoded DNA formulate diverse cultures and their distinctive emergent societies.

Japanese society evolved through the suppression of virtually all intellectual, emotional, and spiritual freedom to the extent that they were unable to develop a well-rounded sense of self or individualism.

Any deviation from the mandated protocol of Form, Order, and Process was met with swift punishment, often collectively.

A confrontation on the streets of Edo between an obnoxious drunk rogue and a noble samurai. The scene is set at night, with traditional Edo period arc Moreover, even now in modern Japan, it is prudent to observe each individual situation and behave appropriately, lest the hammer of Japanese society pound the pesky nail down.

The Japanese exist in an unforgiving tate shakai, and generally, they do not describe those peripherally surrounding them as friends.

Take a group of high school students—they certainly could be regarded as friends; however, in Japan, these relationships embody a more culturally significant protocol—like the kohai-senpai relationships that often last a lifetime. 甲子園大会 - Land Of The Rising Son The Japanese even have a quirky little phrase, kusare-en—腐れ縁—accepting as a matter of nature’s course that all relationships are subjected to the weariness of ennui.

Just who exactly is Onoda Hirō, and why does he represent the inherent trait of a deeply rooted constitution that has been embedded inside a select cadre of extraordinarily resilient sentient beings?

a select cadre of extraordinarily resilient sentient beings Onoda Hirō was the last Japanese soldier of World War II to surrender, which he did on March 9, 1974—a full 29 years after the nuclear holocaust perpetrated by Imperial Amerika upon the destitute civilians of Japan.

He survived for 29 years in the Philippine jungle living off the land, upholding ingrained filial piety duty to the roots of his Kainan, Wakayama samurai family and the Emperor of Japan.

Onoda Hirō Leaving the jungle Embodying values based on the ancient principles of the Japanese, Onoda Hirō was instilled with the strong values of loyalty and perseverance, facilitating the wherewithal for his 29-year, awe-inspiring camping trip in the deep, humid jungle of the Philippines.

Onoda Hirō leaves an extraordinary legacy displaying valor and Japanese-style honour—truly a modern-day samurai—reflect upon this surreal story as the representation of deep constitution and the essence of being.

Valour and Honor of the Samurai Code Living until the ripe old age of 91, Onoda Hirō was reunited with his tutelary deities on January 16, 2014—a full 27 years after the Incidental Occxie flew into the Rising Sun.

Perhaps his spirit still graces this mortal plane to this very day, an inspirational example of Japanese constitution—the continuation of divine solar winds to which Japan flows—for it is the way.

Some words of wisdom from Onoda Hirō to apply and live by anytime when you are in need of a friend: your Japanese neo clan has your back—because that’s what friends are for.

Shotoku Taishi and the Japanese constitution of 604 CE

People can not live by themselves. If you have any doubts about this, just imagine being truly alone. Can you find all your food, make a fire, sew your clothes, and take care of yourself when you get sick or injured? Can you make it?

If you have some thorns in your back, somebody needs to pull it out for you. We need buddies. The sense of belonging is born in the family and later includes friends, neighbors, community, and country. That is why the idea of a nation is really important.

Friends taking out the needles

History is written by the victors. Since the end of World War II, Japanese history education is based on the US war guilt program and leftwing propaganda. I don’t blame the US for this: they wanted a weak Japan and their mission is accomplished.

Men should never give up. I never do. I would hate losing.

Men should never compete with women. If they do, the guys will always lose. That is because women have a lot more endurance. My mother said that and she was so right.

A woman’s life is more important than a man’s. We are not equal as men cannot give birth. Sutematsu,_Alice,_Umeko,_Shigeko If we had fewer men, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Same in nature: for 30 cows, one bull is plenty.

Parents should raise more independent children. In the 1980s, I was living in Brazil when I read about a shocking murder in Japan. A 19-year-old man killed his parents after failing the university entrance exam. I was stunned: why had he killed his parents instead of moving out? I guess he didn’t have enough confidence. I thought this was a sign that the Japanese were getting too weak. I decided to move back to Japan to establish a nature school to give children more power.

One must always have a public viewpoint in mind. Every minute of every day, for 30 years, I served my country. I have never even wondered if that was good or bad for me on an individual level.

No Surrender Onoda Hirō

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