The SYRIA Song
25/12/2017


 

It’s December 2017. Reflecting on the music that’s played its roll, been the soundtrack for this year. I don’t have to think twice as to the one track, I’ll remember absolutely as 2017.

 

 

In bed with John and Yoko on the subject of war. In my head, those that endorse it in anyway, are the spiritual minutiae at the crux of all evil. The most ruthlessly mind-programmed of us all, the kindergarten soul’s; the Police, Army, Navy, RAF, Civil Service and all those that work for the UN.  Each doing so much good??

 

Myself, feeling much like a travelling lesser Hemingway at the moment.  Here writing this piece, in an empty Athens restaurant. Eating Fava with a Greek salad, on a Tuesday night, a couple of weeks before Christmas. I first discovered this track back in early June, whilst staying on the island of Tinos. Having spent the first few months of the year in Athens, the reality of Middle East fallout in my face. The refugee’s, the homelessness on every street. Removed from BBC propaganda, paying witness to the far starker reality of ‘the displaced truth' of our endless warmongering.

 

‘The Displaced and Homeless’ now, the most daunting and desperate subject of our times. (Well this, and every other De-Population tactic). Yet this is the one that disturbs the most. I've been homeless, it destroyed my core; drifting hopelessly, no place to demonstrate our human value.  Years later, I know only how the scar 'of being of no worth' lingers.  To be reduced to that place where the only thing you can trust of your life, is the breath still present in your lungs.  Is a liberation, that can tip either way...

 

The strain is on the spirit. Yet know this; once there, once you are sleeping on the street, there is no way 'off the street' without the helping hand of another.

 

"Well, you can't.."

 

So now the statistics are out of control, the UN confirm sixty-five million refugee’s world wide; this probably doesn’t even scratch the raw truth. It doesn’t include those now homeless in their own country. In London alone, these statistics have increased by 188% in the last five years. That's 'a pavement spike.'  Anway, the well Googled consensus is that over 1.6 billion people today ‘have no shelter’ let alone a place to a call Home. Meanwhile, our evil Master’s tell us we are living in a state of progress, and the annihilation of the Middle East is with an objective of creating peace and stability??

 

And now, more than thirteen million Syrian’s are displaced. Fuck knows how many dead; but the US and their Allies are now accountable for so many million's of death's...

 

Really I shouldn't go there?  Which statistics should I trust? Yet they are all inexusable; this is ‘the subject deplorable.’

 

No man has the right to deploy this kind of suffering...  

 

"Well, you cant.."

 

It's not human. It's the alien mind, with weapons for our mass human destruction.

 

Look at these Syrian streets…

 

 

Too sensitive, these pictures don’t even fit in the imagination, how have the Syrian’s lived it? Afghanistan, Iraq, Yemen all the same. For feck, this is mass human sacrifice; the genocide of the human race. There are not words for the suffering being inflicted in ‘the name of our country’ by our governments and leaders.

 

So I dream, dreaming of a world without borders, and this, my deeply spiritual connection to the Unders, Syria track. In the essence of all of this piece of writing, this piece of music and all that is the photograph of these times. The wrongness of it all. Our human need to put it right?

 

Writing this, in 'the Human Trafficking' capital of the world; the statistics for which now greater than the drug trade, with an approximate twenty-two million soul's presently being globally traded???

 

 

The bystander, mouth open, evil beyond my imagination.  Yet look at the map, the obvious run from Iraq and Syria, being towards Turkey and Greece. European fascist 'White Supremacy' preferential to Saudi Arabia, and their Yemen example of in-humanitarian???

 

It's a coin toss, forced to leave your homelands to protect your children from biological warfare - to endure what??? Life as a trafficked slave, or if your lucky, six months in a refugee camp; released without money or support? Not a euro to your name, unable to speak the language???

 

How do you survive?

 

"Well, you cant.."

 

Closer to the reality of it all, here, spending time in Greece. Travelling with a surfer, discovering beaches while chasing waves. It is the shoes, the flip-flops being washed up on these Greek shores – that torment the mind. Really, the refugee run for freedom, is not freedom it is a desperate risk these men, women and children are forced to take. Again, I say look at the streets they're fleeing…

 

 

Yet this thing about washed up shoes and flip-flops on the beaches, and well, what are the statistics for 'how many lost merely trying to get out?' All these question’s go through my head, as my Ninja rises in the loathing of the whole grisly truth. Our ruler’s really have reached a new depth of spiritual sickness, a place where no shame is left...

 

But hey, lets keep voting for them. Let's pay for another Royal wedding and a few more bombs?

 

Invest our hard-earned cash in our own civilization’s ruthless mass-destruction??

 

"Well, you can't..."

 

Ffs, against these weapons, we’re all now sitting in a perpetual state of powerlessness.

 

I hate this feeling, really ‘What 2 do?’

 

How do we stop the slaughter?

 

Stop all allegiance to those that endorse war.

 

Disobey.

 

Stop paying taxes.

 

Be fearless...

 

Accept nothing unless it is for the greater good of all.

 

Determine to live rightly.

 

Find a good water source, grow vegetables.

 

"Fuck knows..."

 

Anyway surfing YouTube, finding this tune, with flip-flops on my mind in Tinos. Was like the quintessential musical summation of all senses alert, like finding somewhere to rest the emotive self.

 

And this is how it’s been; in this track, is everything I feel about the true state of 2017/2018. Its all here, expressed in this tune. Within it, is all my love and compassion and all the horror I can’t even quantify. In this tune my mind weeps, my heart bleeds, and my soul screams.

 

Alas, I’m English. My own country is up to its neck in evil global atrocities, our Queen ‘Her Majesty of Depleted Uranium’ and High Priestess of the Dark Side. Ffs, today We Brits are just the loyal dog’s languishing on America’s bed, all comfy with ‘our brother’s in arms’ rolling out the NWO. We ourselves, nodding, unquestioning, ever accepting, mind-programmed fascist Royalist’s???

 

I feel only the shame. Hence why I will never live in the Ugly Kingdom again, or at least not until we remove the Queen, and free The People to a classless state of educated equality???

 

I dream…

 

Anyway back last October, staying on the island of Ikaria. Ikaria being one of the closest Greek Islands to Turkey. Proximity, causing me to be even more consumed by thought’s of the Middle East, and the murder of the innocent on these annihilated Syrian streets...

 

 

Ever contemplating; duly becoming completely obsessed with the idea of an English refugee trying to claim asylum in Syria?? Really, to leave Ikaria, head towards Damascus?? The story of table’s turned???  Asylum from Britain??? We bomb making, bomb dropping Brits, have to date only granted 'home' to 8,000 Syrian's Refugee's (a benevolent 20,000 by 2020) yet none, who reach our shores on their own accord???

 

Avoid Calais, Wtf...

 

"Well, you can't..."

 

 

The damnation of war; yet this is only the beginning of the wave of displaced....

 

And this is the ploy, the great plan to get East to meet West, creating a war in Europe between The Displaced East V The Fasciest West.

 

We have to change our thinking.  This is a war no side can win, until we get on the same side against our alien overlords.

 

Anyway, with absolutely no information on Google on how to help an English refugee get asylum in Syria; I'm in a predicament? Where to be for armageddon?

 

Camera, laptop, more research, more cash needed...

 

Yet as only an idea in development, heading to Syria has made me really question myself.  Hardcore, punk, streetwise yes; I've the spirit for it, and yet I’m not war wise. Closeted from it, what do I really know of it?? A few pictures, a piece of music, a bit of BBC bollocks? 

 

It is as it is, with America, we Brits are the bombers, not the bombed…

 

 

As for me, well I just want to call 'STOP' on the whole galactic shenanigan of this 'War on our Consciousness' and return to The People's natural, rightful path, and far greater maturity of innocence.

 

I dream of it, it's name is the great Aquarian Age.

 

"It's just round the corner. Come with me?"