Please check out his substack at https://iceni.substack.com/
2nd August 2022,
Ferocious storms are battering this city with wind gusts hitting up to 100km/h and blowing for over 36 hours. Forecast is for another 36 hours of incessant gale / potential cyclone force winds, along with flash flooding from > +75mm of torrential rains downpour.
I am comfortable in my apartment, hatches are all battened down yet still there's rattles, whistles and wails which frustrates all my attempts at recording subsequent podcasts.
Comfortable but distracted. A little stir craziness sets in; usually calm livestreamers, podcasters that are my stalwarts for daily listening, for insight, interest & immersion factor are all cranky today. Exasperated, brittle, stuttering & frictioned by what I can recognize easily - I did explore it in a podcast I recorded prior - it can be summed up as...
It's all too much, isn't it?
*The distraction we unintentionally slip into (yep; even the best, most astute, calmest and cloud-9-est) is affecting the most stoic of us, making us feel into some subconscious facet of self-awareness that we, we are a failure (finally...)
ALAS, Stranger I hear and see aspects and such facets of your encroaching melancholia, self-seductive into pitying and out of any present state or city you dissociate yet remain physically positioned with. I have been everywhere, anywhere, except for here!
So, I know oh how I have known how low and lost I, you, we could go. Yet Can Not Still Go. No.
Hearken, Stranger and raise your crestfallen mien back up! Hear this = I am Spartacus!
I am here where you were and are and as long as you can hear one last cry I will cry out! And the cry is ringing across the Abyss:
Brains coiled, tightly wound
Sprung from spines shattered
spilled spaghetti onto the ground
Held World's weight on it's shoulders
eyes leaden,
Gasp lastly,
exhale
no sounds
A skipped breath
a caught tongue
isolated sociopathy
soliloquy of hate
slices whipped by
unending hells
hurled coldness
falters forlorn
your scorn is madness
bestial mania
broadcast incessantly
echoed mainstream rort
no present for me
no future to work for
no passage for escape is bought.
no eyes in which i see
past, present, future, history
Remains are exited,
vomit and soul hurled
nil of mind, body or soul unbattered
What happened to our world?
When I am as now, I'll tune into a Spartacast to marvel at how, he who is him who made me I AM SPARTACUS, is the brightest of fires, most riotous in sparks, neuronic-ninjitsu linguistic science-defiers, his voice HEARKENS through Daszaks so dark.
Even when I'm totally spent, insomniac husk exited.
Before the snickering seduction when forfeiting comes close to my consciousness, conscience listens to Spartacast. He can do it, you can too, you listened to it, repeated if need be, a duty compels thee, SPARTACUS ARE YOU!
Aim for the greater than anything strived for prior.
Whatever is coming, what comes are threats insaner than imagination could manifest.
As it approaches, you are approaching your eternal purposed conquest
YOU ARE SPARTACUS
NOW ROLLIN' WITH DA BEST!
Please study and research Spartacus' interstellar ouevere. There is no man who hath elucidated the entirety of nano-bio-pharma mafia militia #plandemic world order as much as he.
