by
Jaye B.
6-18-24
Spring Mountain, Nv.
Greetings All,
Recently, I told a Reset News reader that what I bear witness to here in Poofville reminds me of Diane Arbus’s photographs taken during the dust bowl years in the last century . She told me that Arbus had committed suicide, something I did not know.
(editor's note: A big TY to Pirate Studebaker for the heads-up on my mistaking photographers. See comments below.)
Another photographer, Kevin Carter, whose grim pic of a starving African child with a vulture in the background eyeing the prey up, won him a Pulitzer prize. He committed suicide a few months after receiving it.
Such happens when one realizes just how hopeless changing anything for the better is. No vain philosophies, Pulitzer prizes, imaginations, utopic wish fulfillment or bullshit anticipating Aquarian golden ages to come will help. And no, the Pleaidians are not going to UFO save the day either as many duped New Agers believe. (I actually had one tell me that they were cleaning up all the pollution via their spacecrafts. Nothing to worry about.)
It is stark and unsettling when all delusion buffering is stripped away and what’s left is nothing but grim existential. There is no getting used to it either and that is the gulag torture many are enduring these days. And I get my RDA of it on the front lines. I RDA pray for discernment as to why I’m put here and the answers come back to me, always in ways contrary to the usual assumptions/expectations, unconscious and otherwise. Such as me watching a meltdown in the library parking lot this morning, through my sunscreen, involving two people I know. One called the cops on the other and split, so I started reading Psalm 91 for the remaining one when they arrived. She def needed some protection and got it because the cops eventually left. I then got out of my car, walked up to her and saw just how out-of-body upset she was.
“I was praying for you the whole time. God put me here for a reason.” I said and the relief on her face was priceless. Her little Cairn Terrier came over, wagging its tail and jumped up my leg for an ear scratch. My friend then hugged/thanked me and I told her I would do more prayers and healing for her.
Hardest part of this gig is not the physical and psychological demands, or bearing witness to suffering. It is just how carte blanche indifferent people are to others’s suffering. Something I’ve pointed out ad nauseum on this blog…only to be greeted with indifference. To date, I still get treated as something less than human at times and there is no acclimating to that either. The primary reason people wax cold in such a way is because they can’t pigeon hole outcasts like me ergo we are a threat to them.
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I’ve come to believe that Substack is nothing but an AI driven, energy harvesting, 100% certified gone woke Marxist WTF POS and many truth bloggers are noticing a significant decline in readers and paid subscriptions. It is all done through algorithmic censorship and shadow banning.
Here’s Mike Huggins recent post on it:
Psyop indeed. In the early days some of my posts would get up to 6k reads, scads of likes, shares, re-stacks. Now less than 200 usually is the no shares, no re-stacks norm. All for speaking out against Rainbow fascism and getting censored as a result.
-Dog rescue woman came to my campsite late at night recently and let a pooch out of her truck for me to inspect.
“I’m 100% sure it is her sister.” She said, referring to Ms. On the Run, that I’ve blogged about. I gasped when I saw just how identical looking they were. The dog let me pet it and I animal communicated, hoping that the sister would send an instinctual, genetic mssg to her wary brethren. KW then showed me before/after pics of it and many more of her dog rescues. Said she had 15 of them crammed in her house and how they are struggling keeping their operation afloat as it is all volunteer powered. I told her that I could relate to that and would pray for breakthroughs.
-As disgusted as I am with Substack, it has brought me into contact with some extraordinary, rare people who can actually think, listen, dialogue. I’m planning on putting out a private newsletter for you all. Maybe via secret draft links. A bit clunky but I’m done with POS SS.
TY for your support dear ones. Come chance it on the wild side with me and I’ll play my guitar in 528hz for you and show you how to ward off astral goons and their human hosts too. We can watch nighthawks scarf down bugs around the soccer field lights too.
Blessings,
Jaye B.
p.s. The kangaroo rat has returned as there are tail marks in the sand!
©2024-Jaye B.
Please help support Reset News @ Paypal, Cash App , Ko-Fi or contact the author for other options @ jayeb444@protonmail.com
***
Jaye B. is a writer, musician and artist. His art criticism has appeared in Art Paper, New North Artscape, Art Muscle, Northfield Magazine and elsewhere. His articles have also appeared in City Pages, Twin Cities Reader, Mysteries Magazine, Fahrenheit San Diego, High Plains Reader, New Dawn and Rain Taxi. He has appeared on BBC Radio, WGN Chicago, WLW Cincinnati and elsewhere in the mediasphere to discuss his work. Please help support Reset News @ Paypal, Cash App , Ko-fi or contact the author for other options @ jayeb444@protonmail.com©2024
“It is just how carte blanche indifferent people are to others’s suffering. “
Like our friend Steve Miller, I had two kids about 20 I met while waiting to pick up my son at the airport. Nice boys. Here for school. They had traveled for 2 days from Turkey and arrived here in Cleveland thinking Sandusky was close. We talked allot and my sons plane was late. I knew I should help them .
My son was furious and would not ride with them as I texted him about my concern while he sat on the tarmac ( for 2 hours). His plane wasn’t in. I left and took them to a mosque. They were well received and with folks who could speak Turkish or Farsi. I was shocked by my sons cold heart, unwillingness to help others which he’s seen me do all my life. It revealed an arrogance I didn’t want to see in him and fear. Fear of being robbed or abused by 2 kids half his size and weight. The young men were kind gentle and all alone without a good grasp on English. They had asked numerous people for help and all the people waved their hands and said no. That’s here where people should be kind civilized helpful to a neighbor, welcome to America. I told them not Americans aren’t nice, don’t be offended, it wasn’t you. Either way 2 Palestinians and 3 Lebanese men helped and were kind to me too and I left knowing they would get to Sandusky safely and be fed and sleep. Like you Jaye I prayed for them. I could feel their wide eyed innocents, and hope they do well in school. I can not imagine what would have happened to them there at the airport with Cleveland’s notoriously bad cops.
Jaye you article ranks right up there. You have every right to be disturbed, and others too. I used to like SS but I have also noticed it’s crumbling. The good people writing are echoing the same loss of viewers etc. . Tragic, but, it is going on in other venues too. A dear “addicted to the internet” friend of mine who is 43 with a following JUST told me he’s closing shop. He feels poison from the internet and something very very wrong and mind controlling past what we con-theory people have screamed about forever. He’s done. Maybe it’s time all the good guys disappear. I love your work but I also would respect you pulling the plug. Everything you wrote is true unfortunately. I almost wrote you about what I was seeing posted on SS but you beat me to it.
You are awesome Jaye you really are. Still praying for the dogs. M
The Return of the Mighty Kanga! I'm so glad. Excellent news.
Okay, not to be a bubble burster, but it is Dorthea Lange who took the famous Dust Bowl photos, not Diane Arbus who was famous for her photos of totally off-beat characters in NYC in the 60s and quite a bit younger than Dorthea. Diane did commit suicide. Dorthea did not.
Though Dorthea has an interesting life story. She was crippled by polio as a child and walked with a limp. She got her start in portrait photography of the West Coast Hoi Polloi. Don't know how she managed to "start out" in that world, probably some interesting ties to someone(s), but she cast it aside and the rest is photographic history.
Dorthea did win a Pulitzer though it has been somewhat debunked since it has been proven her photos were staged as her own daughter appears in several of the most famous photos, etc.
Diane, on the other hand, did not win a Pulitzer, but was awarded several Guggenheim Fellowships, came from a wealthy family and was terribly depressed most her life or so it's said.
Though these are only facts and your point is well taken. In and of ourselves, if we have no knowledge of Anyone greater than ourselves, we have little to nothing to draw joy from in this brutal world and little reason to carry on since, as you pointed out, on our own we cannot change this world regardless of how much we desire to do so.
Though we ourselves can change and that, I dare say, changes at least a tiny speck of this world.
Though, I dare say, again, we can't change ourselves all by ourselves. We must BE changed.
Which leads me logically to this - We need God.
And, yes, Substack is a psyop, but so is any "free" platform as well as the internet itself. We don't need to be surprised by this as it's been going on since the inception of the internet from day one.
Substack and all other "comers" are designed for multiple data harvesting and psychological manipulation. I have over 100,000 "readers" of various of my posts. From where and how, I have no idea and am not going to bother to find out. Most likely AI harvesting things and considered to be "readers" or simply made up numbers to boost my ego, or who knows and, frankly, who cares.
There is no privacy online. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't speak freely. Speak even more LOUDLY. imo.
Thank you, Jaye.