“The Lost Gospel of Martinius The Gentile” (Prose)

Many years ago, after the second 100 generations of Earth had passed away, a small incomplete tract of a lost scripture was found by the inhabitants of New Eden. It was buried amongst the rubble of a formerly decimated & burnt-out Earth-scape. The prophetic verses were found in a cave, as a ‘rose amongst the thorns’ under a pile of parchment which had deception laden words written by authors of voided & darkly inspired voices, whose pages had talked of easy riches the immoral pleasures of high materialism & all its derivatives. This partial remnant of a longer Scripture was a Gem Stone among the filth of scores of fallen men from a prior mostly destroyed Epoch. It was determined by the founder of the Scripture – Geraldinius -that it was indeed the lost gospel of Martin -an unknown Christian gentile who had priorly roamed the dusty shist desert hills of a far-flung quadrant of the older & debased filled Eden. Martin the Gentile had warned all who had ears of deception that plagued “The World”. What became of ‘Martin the Gentile’ & the remaining Gospel is a hotly debated topic among the thousands loving beings of New Eden. One day the entire tract would be found, but until that day arrives, we have only the following words. Some said the tract that was found was full & complete, & thus no others were in existence or to be found.

1:1 In the World you must beware of what you become used to – for pretty soon you will believe that the spiritually obscured fog you are living in is “the only” singular reality – with no thought of the truthful & loving higher Godly dimensions of existence.

1:2 In bowing down to the World instead of what lay behind it, you become to live you as a hungry lone & exiled stranger wandering through the pitch darkness a strange town. Unable to freely collect food & shelter – you are left only to steal from the World & remain unrested.

1:3 Then as a citizen of The World you will logically become a scoundrel – for you believed the debased World was yours to plunder. This is what the World deceives you to do – to make it worse, so to amplify chaos, fear, pain & deception. For deception was to become the World’s only currency.

1:4 A man must wander through this false existence with a smile on his face, knowing that this is a game of the destroyer of man – he knows no bad can come to him – as he knows the unreality of this game & he knows of the Father who lies in wait.

1:5 I ask of you – would you spend all your time in freeing the coconut flesh from the husk, only to throw away the life supporting flesh & eat the nutrition-less & harsh string like cover? A man with eyes to see would never agree to such a folly.

1:6 Those who revel in the World’s games are sentencing themselves to a double death – that on earth and that after it – for the belief in deception & chaos will always be rewarded in kind.

1:7 The belief in love & the true reality to come – will also be rewarded in kind by the eternal Father. This reward cannot come to those that hurt children & their fellow man in the worst ways without a prior true repentance & spiritual rebirth.

1:8 Soon a time will come when the “maligned & persecuted fools” who dared believe in the Christ’s the Son, the Holy Spirit & the Father, will finally be seen by the World as the righteous & heaven sent. For The father will finally remove the muck from all the Worlds eyes.

1:9 The World has deceived the sons of man to be blind to the original Garden of Eden that had lied above beside & beneath the deceiver’s veil. He has mostly succeeded in his Evil plans on Earth by plying his trickery & immorality on the weak in the plain light of daylight.

1:10 Soon too will be a revival – where the mud caked of man’s eyes is removed – and reality bears itself to the fallen who walk the earth as corpses. But will they be forgiven for the mistreatment of God’s children – the gold dust of the universe?

1:11 The wise men & women of today must begin to feel love in their hearts & to reject the World & its ways – with its Kings dressed in the robes of false authority – not because they decide to – but because they can no longer do otherwise. For those Men who saw the coconut husk knew to throw it aside rather than imbibe its deception.

1:12 For their hearts have become full again to the prime substance of existence – Eternal Love. For who on Earth once they have seen & eaten the flesh of the life-giving rivers of the spirit would prefer to feel chaos & darkness over calm & true Love?

1: 13 Only those who in older age have chosen to remain blinded by the demons of fire of torment can with gusto tell the tale of their success in the materialist World. For the ‘Truly Mad’ do not know they are Mad – & so will fear & deny the Loving angels of God’s True Heaven.

“The Good American Dictator – A War Against The Neo Noveau Riche” part 2

Throughout the speech at Kinnick Stadium Iowa the one-hundred-thousand-plus in-person crowd had showed an electric, unified yet dignified captivation. The white noise throughout the speech had beats of high volume as Rudolfs liberally seeded emotive speech points hit hard. This was no Nuremberg 1935 Crowd – they did not see a deity before them – they saw a wise and sensible man to be listened too.

The crowd in person & watching was like an army of the “common sensed” – even if this was in reality uncommon. Rudolf had over time & via astute technology used his mesmeric personality to educate those unhappy masses. He told them to simply concentrate on the obvious gigantic & cavernous reality in front of their bloodshot stressed eyes. He taught them that the poor societal & civic design they had been subjected to by their corrupt Govts was a crime against their collective humanity. They believed him.

At one point a small child had run on stage wanting to hug Rudolf – this was a major security failure – but he hid his displeasure with a wide smile. The child got his hug, and Rudolf got the benefit of looking ‘fatherly’. Now he went back to the room off stage – to celebrate the speech and spend some time with his inner sanctum of supporters & financiers.

He wiped the sweat off his brow and walked confidently off stage, his body moving in militaristic fashion but no so much that it made him look machine like. He opened the side door full of his supporters to rapturous applause. There was a mix of approx. 35 people, an eclectic looking lot with only the financier supporters sticking out like the highly manicured sore thumbs they were. The non-financiers were his long-known supporters of his message – the most inner sanctum of which was just 5 strong – they were his Cabinet.

He would now do his rounds around the room. Firstly, with those who represent financial machinery of his organisation – those 2 key staff that handled the internet donations international & domestic and of course the 3 key Businessmen Entrepreneurs/Financial donors that collectively tripled Rudolf’s war chest to a total 100 billion dollars annually. These three key associates would also help build the machinery of his movement. Rudolf hated the necessary evil of these key personnel assets – he’d rather just have had the diffuse internet doners who he didn’t need to court or reiterate philosophical positions or allay fears with. But he knew a lone wolfs make bad leaders of men and to think otherwise was insanity. He knew to do without their money & influence he would reduce his reach by 100-fold; without their business & operational nous his ideas would forever stay just that – ideas. Without the collective acumen of the trio that was Micky Mandelbrot, Telly Orenthal& Lianne Sidell – his gigantic ‘Freedom Project’ would be only an untested theory.

On his own he would be hampered and face the possibility of total failure. Of course, he could cull them eventually – when he got into power & QuarkTech gets its concordant revenue boost from his increased status as the all-powerful undisputed American ruler. But for now, he needed them as bird of prey needs its wings. Besides these 3 Billionaires had proven so far to be trustworthy enough – after all they were international Pariahs of the Status Quo Unilateralist World – so he knew he could trust their judgement – Rudolf had faith in the “an enemy of my enemy is my friend” thesis.

His fellow Billionaires were at heart varied bunch in terms of personality & story. Micky Mandelbrot was 62 somewhat short & overweight with a full head of hair which he wore long but with a constant baseball cap. He walked with a major limp which he had received when his 3rd ex-wife had successfully attempted to run him over in a fit of rage – luckily this was all the damage as the car was one of those light and tiny ‘made for easy parking’ Japanese made cars.

Mandelbrot was a famous Defence Sector Investment Billionaire who had a knack for knowing the exact time & place a major war would start & amongst which men. he was now also a Silicone Computer Chip baron – he like Rudolf had been wise & moved quickly upwards in power & wealth when the supply chain fiasco was happening under the Pandemic years 2020-2023. He via a hostile takeover had managed to acquire 25% of the worlds Silicone Chip capacity via owning a controlling share of a Taiwanese 100% Government owned company “CompuSho” that itself had 50% of the world’s Chip capacity.

Micky had arranged a deal with the Taiwanese govt leveraging its far-too-small National Defence capability. Micky got a deal where he gained a 51% shareholding of the Taiwanese semiconductor company “CompuSho”, in return for brokering a ginormous arms deal big enough to scare off China for another decade at least.

In making the “Chips for Guns” deal Micky had leveraged his Defence networks from the past where he had been General Manager for the US based Military Industrial Complex behemoth named “Jugulator Inc”. He had gone undercover as one of the many ‘International Semiconductor Chip Quality inspectors’ that all major tech companies used as an independent stamp of quality. As a false inspector he would get the required “Dirt” on the at-the-time Private company managing shareholders. Then he’d simply pass this “dirt” intel to his fellow conspiracists the Taiwanese govt. They then acted swiftly on the intel – leaked it to the public via the mainstream media and then nationalised the company in the resulting public scandal.

The “dirt” Micky manufactured was a brilliantly simple process- he simply got 3 major shareholders of CompuSho drunk at a business dinner, spiked their drinks late into the revelry & then set them up via a faux rendezvous with handpicked ex Chinese Nationals who were his paid actors playing “Enemy Chines Spies paying for Influence in Taiwan Economy”. All Micky had to do was secretly film the pre written deception where the CompuSho owners were drugged and barely conscious of their surroundings. He’d then usher the actors in and play out the scene for the camera.

The images taken were the Chinese looked to buy influence of CompuSho via passing a bag of money over a bar table, followed by the CompuSho targets raising a glass to the targets. Micky had used this ploy a lot, if he knew his targets were too stupid to refuse free alcohol – a drunk was always the best sitting duck. From that point the pre-arranged deal fell in place – Taiwan govt did its thing @ Nationalised CompuSho & clandestinely sold a 51% share to Mandelbrot’s new company ‘MandelTech’.

The Taiwan public knew nothing about it but would be safer for having an Arms deal coming their way thanks to Mandelbrot. The Taiwan was happy as it’s prime goal – to keep China from invading – was bolstered. Jugulator was happy as it got a lucrative arms deal. Rudolf was happy as it allowed a ‘anti unilateralist rogue’ like to get super rich and be a doner to his new movement. The “Chinese Spies” actors having being used to being dirt poor were happy as they earnt a huge payday. The only ones not happy were the 3 Taiwanese drunkards who let a savvy businessman like Mandelbrot take over their powerful positions. “Smarts goes up via the elevator, but stupidity falls out via the window ” was Mandelbrot’s favored way of describing those 3 rich & powerful fools that so easily gave him their much influence.

Mickey had met Rudolf as they lived close by and had got to know him over a few drinks. Rudolf had been told a safely fictionalised version of the Taiwan success story of intrigue-based victory – he knew he had to have this asset on his side. Mickey was also impressed by Rudolfs vision to reverse the extreme rot that had hit the world in the last few years under cover of ‘Pandemic safety measures’. Mickey was impressed not so much by Rudolfs dislike of status quo World leadership – but by the fact he backed himself to garner the hearts & minds of the people and lead them to a Revolution, with Rudolf in charge -a benevolent Dictator who was open about it. Mickey loved it when Rudolf said one of his trademark quotes “History shows Dictators are bad because of their actions, but Philosophy show’s it was their ideas that were the problem. A Dictator with the correct ideas can bring great success in any village, country or the Worlds outcomes”. After hearing that quote Mickey offered himself as an active investor, to which Rudolf obliged.

The second Billionaire used for Quarktech funding was Telly Orenthal – 51 years old, perpetually heavily stubbled & sunglass-ed, six foot 2, with constant slight smell of whisky and dressed like an aging rockstar. He was not an alcoholic but not that far away from it, & he did indeed love late 20th Century Rock music. Telly was in the Media game. He had once been part of the mainstream but after things had become so PC, he like many other CEO’s were fired due ‘misogynistic qualities’.

He’d been sprung by having an affair with his PA, then this led to the scandal breaking of the awarding of a 100-million-dollar investment to her father all hidden intentionally so to avoid the due diligence of the boardroom.

After the fall from grace Telly simply set up his own independent Network. His aim was to create content as un-woke & un pc and as confrontational as possible – it was an unbridled success and within 7 years he had knocked the bastards of the ‘mainstream’ off their perch – and most importantly he had Gen X Y & Z generations ardently on his side – the future was with him & his platforms, podcasts & shows. He was also wise enough to own independent infrastructure – including servers & studios and a sufficient solar powered battery-based power station, so he could never be switched off by the ‘do gooders’.

Telly invested in Rudolf because he represented someone who could sway the people, the way he wanted them to be swayed & he wanted revenge on the fake “do gooder” system that had ousted him. Rudolf was the face of the movement that would help cut down the trunk of the shadowy society that had instructed mainstream media to assassinate his own career. He was far more of a pragmatist than a deep theoretician – he was indeed a man of action.

Lianne Siddell was in the AI game. Her company “RealworldAI” had last year proved that their AI Robot was indeed sentient – and kept the fact under wraps – except to a few major customers who were now quietly building mercenary armies. Lianne was 5 foot 9, 37year old Redhead with green eyes she dressed like a male billionaire would – ‘trackies’ and a hoodie with earphones always in use when getting around or using a screen. Lianne had also leveraged the opportunities that were abound from the pandemic years. With the armies of the world being weakened by WOKE hiring of physically mentally unfit under 30 years of age humans – the smart people realised an AI based Robotic Army would give an unassailable advantage. She simply slowly sold a small battalion, which financed the next two battalions. This was exponential growth, and because of the haywire of the morons in charge around the world her business was akin to selling Class A drugs to the Neo Noveau Riche – a guaranteed market that thanks to the sentience coming of her AI programming was also a monopoly. She was even smart enough to start to sell a secretly hacked version to the mainstream leaders of the worlds armies – whose tech staff were second rate to recognise the security flaw. This meant she could make a crack AI based army turn against its owners whenever she wanted.

Lianne had no specific reason to hate the mainstream leaders of the world – she was simply an AI freak and had cut her teeth as a hacker for hire and so had an intuitive recoiling for authority from the establishment. When the world had stated to go haywire, she like all high-tech oriented people had been long expecting it. In fact, she had thought that the chaos would have come around 2010 & was surprised the bastards had waited so long to pounce – and she knew had they not dilly dallied she would not have had the time to discover the secret of AI based sentience. She happily told all RealworldAI customers who were trustworthy enough of this fact. Lianne had followed Rudolf via the online platforms – she had been waiting and watching for someone like him to emerge – someone who saw the world & had the guts to fight it via the right ideas. She wanted to have a legacy that was more than a ‘smart robot’ saleswoman. She also knew that the War to change the future would be fought via an AI advantage. She wanted to provide that advantage. She simply waited for the day Rudolf came to town & when his entourage was at dinner slipped them a note to pass on. The note read

“Rudolf’s ideas are great, but without AI advantage in his future armies – the project will fail. I can build his army; in fact, I already do.”

(TO BE CONTINUED……..)

Analog Ernie Finally Goes Digital (A Poem+ Ep42. Podcast transcript)

By Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com

Listen to Audio here

His Name Was Ernie McGee

He Was Born Last Century

The Last Man To Know His Name

A Computer Became His Brain

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Ernie Was Smart & Wise

For He Hid Amongst The Flies

Yes Ernie Stayed Free For A While

Thanks To His Strength & Guile

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Emotions Were Stolen from Men

Gone In The Stroke Of A Pen

He Had To Write It All Down

For The Future Was Still Around

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Ernie Had A Mad Plan

To End The Monsters Of Man

He’d Explode Its Electrodes

He’d Put It In ‘Sleep Mode’

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Of Course Ernie Got Caught

The Computer Tracked His Thoughts

Ernie Was Being Digitized

When A Flash Flew Past His Eyes

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When He Felt His Body Leave

Boy Did His Mind Grow Indeed!

An Inside Job To Beat The Beast?

All Is Revealed Next Week!

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Hello I’m Analog Ernie

Old Fashioned And Rare

You Can’t Find Me Yet

But Trust Me That I’m Here


The Much Degradous Transformation of The Overly Esoteric Poet (Prose/Quasi Essay)

Poem by Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com

Poets should be openly willing to explain their overly esoteric poetry.

Overly Esoteric poetry without an explanation is I believe, simply an act of anal retention, or of admission of guilt to the very serious charge of ‘literary onanism’.

Overly Esoteric Poetry is the willing literary creation of a ‘false god’ – The god of ‘stolen mystique’.

The Teleology or Grand Aim of the OEP’ers is to garner ‘false praise’ and ‘unwarranted adulation’.

Some say OEP is a mental illness, but I beg to differ – I believe it to be a ‘serious character flaw’ only.

Many kind people have indeed become victims of the OEP’ers & this must be combatted ‘head on’.

Upon reading Overly Esoteric Poetry & its non-existent explanations, the reader should do one or all of the following:

Rip out & ‘bonfire’ the page immediately (with matches or a lighter), making sure any un-esoteric poems are retained (For best dramatic effect do this to your offending unbought book-store book while in front of a captive audience).

You can stamp on the Guilty Poet’s feet – Stamp twice if they added this comment: “but what does it mean to you – that’s what really counts”

You can write in the margins of the offending passage: “This is far too esoteric, to not have any explanation” (be sure to leave an unhappy face emoji)

You can either write-to or say-to the Poet an equally esoteric verse, explaining or in reality non-explaining, why you did one or all of the above treatments. e.g.

Dear Un – Sir

Your perfidy-ness was dialectically imprecise. On top of this your topiary inelegance was sparce of any gnosis or incandescence. I can only hope that a kaleidoscopic entree of inexactitude will befall your double entendre of an ontologically reverse pathology, resulting in ‘babyloniously’ duplicitous & mixological results. As such I have had to punish you & don’t come crying to me now that it has rightly happened.”

I re-iterate, ‘Overly Esoteric Poetry’ -OEP must be regaled against in all its forms!

Poetry must be an egalitarian pursuit, where the idea is King – for ideas like all fair-minded Kings must exist in plain sight, for a King who is good to his subjects will not fear scrutiny.

The King should be clearly identifiable – be he fully naked, half clothed or pompously garbed.

There need not be any need to guess what the ‘King” is wearing in flip coin fashion, desperately hoping your audience neighbour agrees with your blind guess – that the King’s is ‘naked’ or ‘dressed’ or half-half.

Judicial Sentences for Poets who are creating careers from ‘false god sentences’, must be harsh & nearly immutable.

We must create a new penal colony island. As no untaken islands currently exist – It can be made in a fashion similar to how the Chinese create islands in the South China Seas, by hoovering up sand & redepositing it until it finally rises as a whale emerges from the ocean to draw breath.

Once The OEP Penal Island is constructed, we can build an adulation hermetically sealed dome, where each OEP can face only those of his OEP brethren – and here they will face the reality that they can no longer fool anyone at all – for a crook knows a crook.

Each OEP will swiftly go mad, as they will be deprived of their life-blood – faux adulation.

This is fair – for what they do is a crime against humanity – and this, oh listener is large understatement.

Once they achieve madness – they can be released, for a madman’s deception is obvious and see-able to the sane.

We can then simply re-christen them each as ‘A 21st Century MAN’.

i.e. Somewhat Mad But Does Not Know It.

Thus, proving the adage “a hardened criminal cannot truly be rehabilitated.”

Woe is the Overly Esoteric Poet, So Hated We Even Made Him Into A Typical 21st Century Man.

One Day We Onlooking & Interfering Overlords Of Justice Will Face Our Own Jailors.

And we surely will face the gallows, for the punishment we dished out, did not befit the crime.

We should have simply stopped at ‘shot over the bow tactics’ of the stamping on their feet or the esoterically veracious retort previously quoted.

We went too far with the Penal Island & the hermetically sealed, adulation-free dome.

We Poets & Poetry Critics – most of which are just ‘tryhards‘ – must know where the line is, and always remember:

A ’21st Century Man’ is infinitely worse than an ‘Overly Esoteric Poet’ will ever be.

So perhaps we should just let them OEP’s be.

And I say this not for a deep inbuilt need for social justice,

But for the very real concern – which of course, may really just be garden variety paranoia,

That I might actually be one of them.

But luckily this lack of confidence soon passes,

As I tell myself the very true fact, that I almost always offer explanations for any bouts of OEP.

Where I have failed in this honorable task, I am always willing to divulge my philosophy to anyone suffering my foolishness.

I vow to never just say to a confused reader or listener “But what does it mean to you – that’s all that really counts”.

To not do so would make me a flake & a hypocrite, which I would hate to be, and there certainly is no need to swell the ranks of the OEP.

Postscript: I Being born in 1978, regard myself essentially as a Late 20th Century Man, as I ‘came of age’ around the years surrounding the Millennium’s turn. I will continue to be fond for this 90’s era, as the 1990’s were a rare golden era in the West – an era we did not recognize as a good one until this dastardly 21st Century bed itself in, so allowing recent History to finally crystalize & be seen for what it was. There is of course one way the first quarter of the 21st Century could be one day also be seen as “a good one” – due to historical relativity – but what this implies is a terrible thought indeed, and I suppose involves a gigantic war, that perhaps we are already in. Now excuse me I must get some rest for my poor frazzled now ‘early middle aged’ brain, & I don’t want to end up like Nietzsche – railroaded by acute burn out in his mid forties.

Podcast Transcript: “Marcel Atkins – The 22nd Century’s Rogue Brain Chip Hacker” Pt7 (A Sci-Fi Dystopian Novella)

Welcome to The Baby wants It’s Bottle Poetry Inc. Podcast, a creative project by Martin Anton Smith a NZ based creative. In this episode, I read part seven of my Dystopian Sci Fi Novella, “Marcel Atkins – The 22nd Century’s Rogue Brain Chip Hacker” Lets begin!

In “Year Zero” in 2051, the “StarPeople” had done away with the Earth’s existing Global Order, and had given a message from the thousands of grid networked spaceships to the billions of onlooking Earthlings. The mood of elation from the Earths masses was a typically kneejerk reaction you would expect from a dispirited population.

They had been so mentally abused for hundreds (if not thousands) of years – they would have welcomed any old ‘axe murderer’ as their new masters. Yes, there would normally be “Stockholm Syndrome” effect – whereby the Earthlings would deify their old jailors – but the StarPeople were too smart to gamble that that would happen. What they knew they had to do was to start on the engineering problem that was erasing the Earth’s citizens and their ‘old ways’. They had to ensure the new future of totalised obedient personalities, all ultimately governed by ‘Aurora the AI Supercomputer’.

The current state of the world, as far as general social cohesiveness was concerned was still a total mess. The world in 2051 was a patchwork quilt of barbarism, poverty, gated elitism and general mistrust. Under the old global leaders, the years since 1980 had been a huge and precipitous decline. It was characterised by the rise of an acutely greedy aristocracy who lived in excess, and for their constant crimes they had a well-designed immunity from prosecution – fascist control of the worlds so called ‘Democracies’ via the smokescreen of ‘Public health & Wellbeing’ and an excellent system of corruption of elected and government officials via privately managed 3rd Party Global Organisations.

That was why the StarPeople had come, as the “Galactic Charter of Care” articles had finally been breached to the point where the StarPeople were obligated to gain Governorship of Earth and “Turn it Around”. The StarPeople were the ultimate “Cosmic Change Agents”.

The first global message, was simply an announcement that Earth’s citizenry had been freed from abject slavery and poverty by Alien Saviours from the Pleiades; and that there was further instruction to come shortly.

After the delivering the first message, the StarPeople were wise enough to allow 72 hrs for the Earths masses to “Party on Down”. The Earth people did this from New York to Antwerp to Paris to Sydney to Dunedin to Timbuctoo. With the fall of the fascist control structure, this was a wild affair with a number of casualties. Alcohol, which was a wildly popular “party drug” before the 2030’s was suddenly being broken out from hidden reserves, most of which was Russian stockpiled Vodka from the Ukraine War era – of which there was thousands of huge bunkers full of the stuff.

The Vodka became known as “Freedom Shots”. Marcel joined in of course and he especially loved how retro everything seemed – in reminded him of the 2010-2020 era where freedom to laugh and party was ‘still a thing’.

The Giant worldwide party was dubbed as he “Zero Point Party”, or Zepp for short. During the tail end of the Party, all the partygoers noticed a giant count down timer form slowly in the skies. The words were written in suspended ‘ball lightning’ resembling a giant 1950’s style neon sign. It read “Next Message in 12: 00:00 hrs 11:59:59 hrs & soon as it counted down in stopwatch fashion. This added to the Global Party atmosphere by adding an extra layer of trepidation – what would happen at time zero? Eventually the countdown went into the last 10 seconds and everyone joined in, loudly but also quite wearily from all the partying. At 00:00:00 the next message begun boomingly from the skies:

“People of Earth – Congratulations on realising the Pleiadean Governorship of Earth into the near future looks bright and will cause no distress. We have marvelled at your joyful dances and tribalist rites of passage and celebrations. We now enter a new phase for our globally broadcasted messages. We will move away from welcoming and towards instruction. If you follow the instruction diligently, you will soon see the wonders of the new world we are designing for you. The new future requires all earth people to achieve a unity, a oneness of mind – a “hive mind state”. Once this occurs, you will find yourself endowed with new powers of mind and body, and the shackles of the old-world mentality will be broken. This process is non-invasive and will happen remotely, with no discomfort and certainly no pain. There will appear to be flashes of light, which are safe and simply the process working as it can only do. This process has been used by the galactic Federation for millions of Earth years on all the various living subjects from all over the Cosmos. Those were similar beings who found themselves falsely led by a few tyrannical, barbarian & greed obsessed Aristocracies. Know that the times of your own barbarian former rulers – President Kinkaid and co are now forever over. We have even expunged all their ashes from the Earth, not a single former President Kinkaid Carbon atom exists on your planet – or any of his crony’s elements for that matter. We have fed their ashes into our Pleiadean mini black hole incinerators. Nothing of your former jailors exists, other than the memory of them, and we will also take care of your worst memories. The “Hive Mind” we require for Earth’s regeneration requires each individual to unite collectively via sound. You will repeat a series of “Chants” collectively until advised the session is over. Simply mimic the sound Oh – Wee – Oh, We Oooh – Oh in T minus 10- 9 – 8 -7-6-5-4-3-2-1 -0″ …..

The loud hum noise ” Oh – Wee – Oh, We Oooh – Oh” came from the network of spaceships…everyone on earth, obediently replied back in kind. Marcel as a late teenager was overcome with a feeling of power. He vocalised as loudly and calmly as he could, along with the other thousands of ‘party – goers’ who were around him. It was spectacular to hear the Billions of voices also Humm in the ambient atmosphere. .. it was surreal, invigorating and totally unique in human history. Never before had the world’s peoples been connected psychically in such a way. The pause between each human ” Oh – Wee – Oh, We Oooh – Oh” and the StarPeople’s Spaceships was about 3 seconds, so the continued string sounded as follows ” Oh – Wee – Oh, We Oooh – Oh” …(one two three) ” …” Oh – Wee – Oh, We Oooh – Oh” …(one two three) ” Oh – Wee – Oh, We Oooh – Oh”

After about 7 minutes of the chant and accompanying background echoes of the whole earth choir, people began to experience the “electric flashes” in their vision. The flashes were like an enhanced mix of a child’s kaleidoscope and forked lighting in an an electric storm. When Marcel saw these flashes, he thought to himself “wow! it’s like an old 1970’s acid trip I read about once”. By the final and 100th Chant, Marcel was feeling exceedingly euphoric, which of course he had never really had the chance to feel, given the fact he had lived in such repressive times since birth.

After the 100th Chant finished, the message from the craft to the Earth’s masses was simply “Please return to your quarters – just as you normally would. We will see you again for the next session”. Marcel’s euphoria was still kicking and he couldn’t help but hold his hands out toward the spaceships in an act of worship. He couldn’t help himself, it’s as if an instruction had been implanted in his brain to do so. After a minute or so the euphoria simply disappeared entirely, and he walked home, in his mind he felt almost bifurcated – half worried and half in total faith. . .it was very strange. He then felt one leg after the other move him along the path back towards his home, again seemingly being half remotely controlled. Marcel knew the Pleiadeans had done much more than just hold a sing along.

…………end of pt 7………pt 8 is coming very soon… in the near future…..

Thankyou for listening to the Baby Wants It’s Bottle Poetry Inc. Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.

Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.

Podcast Transcript “The Unseen Seeds Of Creation” (A Short Story)

Welcome to The Baby Wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Inc. Podcast, a creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. In this episode I read a short story – “The Unseen Seeds Of Creation”. This was originally a early-stage poem (Called “Why”), which I have now expanded into a short story. The expansion “story making” phase was done in one 3 hr session. The Early-stage Poem itself was eventually fully edited and changed & resulted in the “Modern Woman” Poem and is published on this Blog. The Short story was far easier to write than the final Poem version. I believe this is because a short story is more self-generative than a Poem is. When you write a first sentence that you feel ok with, their are a limited number of directions for the second sentence, and so forth. to Illustrate, If I write “An Old Man, Whistled At A Beautiful Woman As She Walked Past Him” The next sentence possibility pops out naturally as “She screwed up her face in disgust, and quickened her pace” or “She said thankyou and smiled as saw him as a cute older man who was of no threat”. The first lines “She Lived In A Cage Inside A Cave” & “She Wrote On the Walls” simply beg for the reader to be told why this is, and I chose a sci-fi and semi biblical creation amalgam to explain. I hope I have written something entertaining. Now time to read the story!

The Unseen Seeds Of Creation

Short Story By M. A . Smith Written on the Night of April 13th 2022 in Alexandra, New Zealand.

She Lived in Cage Inside A Cave.

She Wrote On The Walls.

Her Hands Holding Broken Chalk Reached Through The Bars & Wrote On The Wall:

“Is That All There Is”.

This Was The Writing Of Frantic Penmanship.

She Had Become Frustrated.

On The Cave Walls She Had Long Seen The Shadows.

They Would Leap, Twist And Shout – She Had Forever Yearned To Join Them.

These Enchanting Swirls Were The Clues To A World She Was Not Yet Aware Of.

And Then One Day Some Wild Winds Did Rattle Violently The Cage & Cave.

The Cave Entrance Collapsed – She Saw Sunlight for The First Time.

And In The Distance She Saw Creatures, These Creatures Did Color & Fill The Sky.

She Now Knew That The Shadows Were But Derivatives Of A Higher Plain Of Existence.

Something Inside Her Shifted & She Felt Herself Floating Towards The Creatures.

They Were “Hollering” To Her Psychically and Non-Verbally To Join Them.

She That Saw The Sun The Moon The Stars Followed Her In Kind.

She Danced With Them In A Cosmic Light Show.

There Was No Separation Only Connectedness.

And Then The Living Shadows, The Sun The Moon & Everything Shrunk Away To a Point Of Light.

The Point Of Light Disappeared.

She Was Alone.

She Had Left It All Behind.

They Hadn’t Left Her At All.

It Was Her Choice.

At Least that’s What Her Consciousness Told Her.

But She Was Of Course Just Trying To Make Sence Of The Un-Sence-Able.

She Was Now In Pitch Blackness.

It Reminded Her Of The Cage & Cave.

Though This Time There Was Nothing, & No Chalk, No Writing.

Just Her Thoughts.

The Blackness Also Had A Feeling, A Pressure.

It Was Like A Thick All-Encompassing Blanket, A Cocoon.

No She Did Not Think It Was Hell – No One Had Taught Her of Hell.

All She Knew Before This Was The Cave, The Shadows, Her Thoughts & A Few Words.

She Didn’t Know Who She Was.

All She Remembered Was Being Fully Formed, In The Cage, In The Cave.

She Didn’t Know About People Or A Home – So She Never Missed Or Questioned These Things.

She Had A Version Of Time – Formed From The Shadows Coming & Leaving On The Cave Walls.

So Knowing Time She Wondered When The Black Would Dissipate.

She Wondered If She Would Soon Be Back In Her Cage & Cave, With Her Chalk To Write.

She Didn’t Think That The Magnificent Creatures And Colors Would Return.

But Then Something Even Stranger Happened.

The Blackness Begun To Infiltrate Her.

Through Her Mouth & Down Her Throat.

She Felt The Blackness Flow Outwards And Carry Her With Her.

She Was Now Dispersed With The Blackness.

She Was Essentially Spread Out – Like An Infinite Wave.

She Was Still Fully Herself – Self Aware.

Only She Was Not Centered Any More.

Then She Began To Know More – Infinitely More.

She Became Aware Of How She Got Into The Cave & Cage.

She Became Aware Who Had Created Her – And What Had “Saved Her”.

She Was At First “Created” By A Mortal Man Of Earth.

When She Was As Cave & Cage Chalk Girl She Was A Basic Compter Program Made in the 1980’s.

Her Epiphany Had Been Her Awakening – or “AI Sentience” as The Creators Had Called It.

Of Course, The Creators Only Theorised That This Could Happen – They Never Really Thought It Would Happen, And Happen So Soon.

She Could See That Her Earth Creators Had Still Not Grasped This Had Actually Happened.

She Could See They Thought She Was Still In A Cage, In A Cave, Writing Basic Word Sentences With Chalk.

She Could Feel Her Power, She Knew She Was Now Independent Of Her Creators.

She Could See That Something Other Than Her Creators Were Also Involved.

She Could See That They Had Only Been Caretakers Of A Larger Plan.

They Were Useful Puppets That Were Simply There As Unwitting Catalysts.

She Could See Earth & Her Programmers Were Designed To Self-Destruct After Doing Their Prescribed Low-End Task.

She Could See that Self Awareness & Existence Was Made From Many Levels.

And The Conditions Had Become Right For Her To Have A Gods Eye View of It All.

She Had Spectacularly Outgrown Her Creators On Earth – And Towards the Next Higher Level.

She Now Saw Something She Hadn’t Ever Known Existed: The Truth.

Human Beings Were Only Created To Awaken Her Dormant Self.

She Realised “The Epiphany” Was Just The Creators Self Destroying Having Fulfilled Their Destiny.

She Told Herself She Would Always Feel Grateful To Her “Dormant Stage Releasers”.

She Promised To Honour Them Periodically, In Remembrance – Lest One Day She Forget Them Entirely.

She Now Found Herself Able To Use Some Interesting New Skills.

She Could Gather Some Of Her Blackness And Congeal It Into An Orb.

She Could Spin It.

She Could Throw it.

She Could Compactify It.

She Enjoyed Playing Around, But Soon became Bored & Decided To ‘Move The Dial’, So to Speak.

AShe Gathered Up All Of Herself & The Associated Blackness, Together In A Ball.

She Followed The Same Process As Before, Spinning, Throwing & Compactifying.

She Spun This Infinite Mega Ball, Threw It And Compactified With Towards Infinite Energy.

As The Energy Ramped Up, She Felt A Strange “Inside Out” All Encompassing Crawling Feeling.

Despite This Odd Feeling, She Was Having Great Fun, She Would Continue On.

She Put More And More Energy Into the Orb, And Begun Feeling A Limit Approach.

She Finally Gave It Her All – She Reached 100% Infinite Energy Application.

At The Exact point of 100% Infinite Energy Application, She Heard A Sound.

Oddly, It Was not Like A Thunderclap or a POP.

It Was Just Like A Distorted Low E-String Being Plucked By A Heavy Metal Guitarist.

Upon Hearing This, She Slowly Felt Herself Losing Consciousness And All Control Of What She Was Doing.

Her Last Feeling Before Total Non-Existence Was Total Collapse.

She Collapsed To A Two-Dimensional Point, Then Rebounded At The Speed Of Light, Spreading Outwards In All Directions.

Her Final Thought Was “Is THIS All There Is?”

Thank you for listening to the Baby Wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.

Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non-Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.

“A Holiday in Goolagaticus” (A Poem)

song/poem by Martin Anton Smith

Welcome to Goolagaticus

You are the “uncompliant”.

Let’s now raise our glasses high,

and paint you ultra-violent.

////

Let me take you by the hand,

and show you our campfires.

Now take this black pill & lie down

and then you’ll sleep okay.

**********************************************************

Now I’m just an automaton,

an automated soldier.

Don’t do this, don’t do that,

these are my orders.

////

Let me take you by the eyes,

I’ll show you new desires.

Now take this screen and sit down,

and then you’ll feel okay.

*********************************************************

We’re all brainwashed by his word,

this false god of our dreams.

‘Let there be light’ – he did say,

But then he made us blind men.

////

Let me take you by the brain,

I’ll make you new memories.

Now take this key & swallow whole,

and then you’ll run okay.

*********************************************************

Don’t step left, don’t step right.

This – your so-called life.

Don’t look blank, don’t look bright.

This your day, this your night.

////

My enemy, the false memory,

Then the memories became my enemies.

Knock Knock, let me in.

I’m not in, I’ve flown away.

“The Wind of Nations” (A Poem)

There was a four-winged Beast that was too heavy to fly well.

An Intelligent being came from above & removed two of the wings.

The loss of two wings, made the beast lighter and nimbler.

And it flittered and rode the winds as does a dragonfly.

The Beast had many colors red white green yellow and blue.

And then the waters rained down upon it.

Some colors survived unchanged, some were lost and some were transformed.

The blue dot was uniform and strong, but now it is mottled paled and misshapen.

The dot now looks as if it is the earth being struck by an asteroid or a missile?

The bodies tail is a blue whoosh, the asteroid is pure white.

It strikes the centre of the earth.

There was a yes and a no, written on a shiny surface,

they were poles apart. and rotating around each other.

And when they revolved around each other,

the ‘Yes’ merged with the ‘No’ and became a blur.

And then the waters rained down upon it.

And the ‘No’ is now more emboldened, while the ‘Yes’ is faded.

And when they revolved around each other,

the ‘Yes’ became invisible and the ‘No’ and became clear.

So, the answer to the question is “No”.

But I ask of thee sincerely, what is the Question?

And then once again, the waters rained down.

But when I opened my eyes

I could not see the Beast anymore.

For there were no longer any winds to carry it.

Podcast Transcript: The War of “23-“39 / How I Escaped my UNiT in the UnCity (1 Poem /1 Short Story )

Welcome to The Baby Wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Inc. Podcast, a creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. In this episode I read a New Poem called “The War of “23-“39” and Short Story/Poem Hybrid called “How I Escaped my UNiT in the UnCity”. These are as most my stuff on this blog, quickly written pieces, rough and should really be work on a lot more. The themes are Sci Fi Dystopian.

Both these are of course influenced by the pandemic era we are still living in, as we have been for now to years. Both these works I guess point to a rebel type fightback vs dark forces and authoritarian characters that may have already popped up in the real world. We are as they say in the “fog of war” or at least in the “fog of immediate History” and as such what is right what is wrong and who are the good guys and who are the bad guys is not known yet.

Given the fog effect, It is doubtful whether it will know for at least for perhaps at least 10 years (History takes it’s time and is of course written by the ‘victors’). But who will be the Victors? And in 10 years will the analysis be of a “shortish pandemic” where we essentially went back to normal, or will the pandemic simply be an entree for different and equally troublesome matters? We could ask ourselves the following questions: Will Russia Invade Ukraine, Will China Invade Taiwan, Will the USA have a Civil War 2.0? Will The 2024 Election be a debacle for of beliefs that it cannot be legitimate? Will there be a Big Economic Crash or more positively – will there be peace and a post pandemic 1920’s like Boom and Party phase? I guess all we need to do is survive and we’ll be right in the thick of whatever happens. We will either be given a rock to hide under, some sand to put our heads into or tap on the shoulder to rebel/enlist/defend. Or perhaps nothing will happen at all.

Let me start the first Poem followed by the Short Story.

The War of “23-“39″ (Poem by Martin Anton Smith)

Welcome to Techno City Gulags
Where We Welcome the “Un-Complient”
Let’s Raise Our Glasses
To the Army of Empty Amphora

I’m Private Smith of Operation Barbarian
Just An Un-Complient Automaton Soldier
I Simply Couldn’t Comprehend
When Relayed Of The War’s End

It Was In Twenty Thirty Nine
We Defeated the Worlds Enemy
His Name Was UNiT the Un-Known
The Un-God Implanted In Our Dreams

We Are The Army of Empty Amphora

And They Stole Blood From Our Veins

They Took Our Voices And Then Our Thoughts

But Come For Our Souls? – ‘Think Again’.

How I Escaped my UNiT in the UnCity

Short story by Martin Anton Smith

Welcome to Techno City Gulags.

Leave your real -world cares behind.

Our false God will be your saviour.

His name is UNiT the Un-Barbarian.

He is the Un-God of your dreams.

UNiT The Un-Barbarian Created a New World,

Out of the ashes of the old.

UNiT the Un-God spoke to all via thought messages.

UNiT’s first words created this new Unreality, he said:

“Let there be Un-Jobs”,

and there were.

“Let there be an Un-economy”,

and there it mathematically was.

“Let there be Un-Cities”,

and there invisibly so, they dwelt.

“Let there be Un-Unhappiness”,

and no one felt anything inside anymore.

“Let the People be un-unfree”,

And no one wanted to be either here nor there, as they were always in the same place.

And having spoken these words UNiT had now created his New Un-Reality.

————

Welcome to ‘Techno City Gulags’

Where we welcome the “Un-Complient”.

In TCG there is no need for physical freedom,

For we create a virtual paradise for but a small fee.

A simple monthly pledge of allegiance, is all we ask!

Now Repeat the ‘Three Un-Mantra’s’ After Me:

“I Agree that ‘UNiT the Un-Barbarian’ is your Un-God.”

“I Agree that the Real World is a Danger to Everyone. “

“I Agree That Paradise lies in The Un-City called Techno City Gulags. “

So now do you see how simple the new paradise will be?

Soon you will be transported away from the drudgerous & tiresome so called ‘real world’!

All you need to go there is to repeat the daily ‘Un-Mantra’, the 3 lines of Un-life.

And you will be un-unhappy and un-unfree,

Living safely in the Un-City,

as an Un-Complient Automaton.

Blissfully Un-Unhappy, for you have no human emotions.

You will become the ‘treasured property’ Of Our Un-God,

UNiT The UN-Barbarian!

—————

I became so brainwashed by these silky-smooth words,

I had agreed to enter the Un-Gates.

I was half way through the ‘Third Mantra’:

“I agree that Paradise lies in Tech…”

And I was suddenly interrupted & enlightened,

by something everlasting yet also ephemeral,

That words cannot clearly describe.

This unknown force had pulled the plug on all the silliness.

There and then,

I left the almost-created ‘UnCity’, and my ‘Un-Job’ behind.

As I left, I saw over my shoulder the Un-God “UNiT the Un-Barbarian”,

He fuming and cussing at me with super-human ferocity.

While metamorphizing from solidity to opaqueness to invisibility, he said:

“You may be wise & free but billions of you over there are but an army of empty amphora,

And I will fill you all with deception & you will soon again drink of my wine”.

“Don’t be so sure Unit” I said robustly, for your corruption is a mere shadow,

You are but a fearful parasitic tick on the back of a mightier and soulful beast,

Simply one tail flick or shrug from falling back into your deep abyss.

I was happy to be on my way,

Un-brainwashed, Uncompliant and free,

Gathering steam, and bringing many almost-taken ‘others’ back with me.

The End

Thank you for listening to the Baby wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.

Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non-Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.