dolores666's photos with the keyword: Survival

Winged Grub. aka The Grub's Lament. Once more, let the little ones tell you a thing or two about cooperation, connections and survival. Stay sane.

Leviathan. aka KingClownWatch. (Unnumbered.) aka The Perfect Solution 2.0 There. Just follow the instructions and everything will be fluffy.

Sin comentario/ No comment. Just a reminder that WE are watching YOU, you ghastly so-and-sos. Some of us are actually alive, don't you know...

Here be the ever-useful subatomic particles Smith and Jones, shining stars of the Far Fringes Commentariat, expressing their considered opinion on the latest tactics dripping from No. 10 to get rid of as many as possible of the superfluous, non-productive, non-consuming, pension-cashing members of this our wonderful Late-Late Crapitalist society. And here’s a nice bit of gossip: www.medialens.org/2020/for-unknown-reasons-they-waited-and-watched-lancet-editor-exposes-devastating-government-failure-on-coronavirus

It’s a little known fact that our galaxy is guarded by a couple of hyper snakes called Tilly and Tully who are distant cousins of Odile, the Strident Sneak. Tilly is the mother of Tully. Tully is very young, a little vain and still a bit wet behind the ears but she’ll do very well, Tilly thinks. They consider the Milky Way to be their precious pearl and so they guard it fiercely. Their verdict on and advice to us, poor carbon-based humanoid bipedal peasants is: You are fools. You must stop being fools. I’d listen to them if I were you. Here, have a wee bit of juicy gossip: www.informationclearinghouse.info/54044.htm Stay sane.

No comment needed. Let the moggies do the talking. But...have a shufti at this: www.thecanary.co/uk/analysis/2020/03/18/the-tories-just-revealed-the-most-terrifying-part-of-their-coronavirus-plan

The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living. Karl Marx There never has been a greater need to swim against the current, to dissent from the norm, to resist and build barricades against this crushing, seemingly all-powerful tide of Crapitalist rubbish that’s engulfing the world at this moment in time. We must really, truly and categorically wake up from this muddle of a collective nightmare of dead traditions, outdated values and rancid doctrines. Else we (not the planet; the planet will be all right in any case) are surely fucked and then is good luck to the rats, the bugs and the tardigrades. ‘ere, ‘ave un po’ di mu’, to encourage your resolve. www.youtube.com/watch?v=BP-aYdhHwro www.youtube.com/watch?v=-srLjMRjoVI

Here’s wishing you the customary bundle of happiness, love, prosperity, health, fun, games and, above all, obstinacy. There’s no reason to think that 2019 is going to be any better than 2018 has been. But. But who knows? It may be the year that really intelligent AIs take over the world. In any case, do stick with a rudimentary Gramscian outlook: Pessimism of the intellect and optimism of the will. And to the Mehitabel Paradigm.: Toujours gai, toujors gai! They both annoy The Man. Happy New Year!

Say hello and goodbye to Mitzy the squid. Until yesterday she was quite an ordinary squid, doing her squiddy bit in the watery depths. But last week she had an epiphany whilst watching the latest global warming denier’s rant on YouTube. So, she decided that the oceans were becoming far too uncool to stick around and then and there decided to opt for transcendence. That is, she grabbed ink sack, egg bag and her latest brood and initiated the process of sublimating to a higher, quieter and more rewarding state of being. She’s nearly there, although her redirected electromagnetic field is still a wee bit thin. But before the day is out she’ll be SomeWhereElse. We all wish her and her offspring much fun, happiness and a long, groovy life. And wish we could do the same, of course.

Sea Life Somewhere in there, in this image, there should be a Doomsday Clock. Imagine one if you will.

What with the current so-called reality unravelling and illusions beginning to collapse right, left and centre, the peerless Grumpy, in semi-formal office regalia, has taken himself and his off-the-cuff ADCs, the BearThing and her new cub, down to the shores of Samsara to wait for the tide to turn and thus be ready to welcome the new ship of fools to their rightful inheritance. Mrs B has her money on the rats and, hedging her bets, the cockroaches. The baby is wondering if there's half a chance of persuading the Teddy to play with him, as all this waiting is beginning to get on his wick.