Turning Two

Recap of Visceral Adventure's sophomoric Substack journey and goal setting for a terrific year three

I give all this background information as I do not think one can assess a writer's motives without knowing something of his early development. His subject matter will be determined by the age he lives in - at least this is true in tumultuous, revolutionary ages like our own - but before he ever begins to write he will have acquired an emotional attitude from which he will never completely escape. It is his job, no doubt, to discipline his temperament and avoid getting stuck at some immature stage, in some perverse mood; but if he escapes from his early influences altogether, he will have killed his impulse to write.

George Orwell, Why I Write, 1946

Perhaps it’s silly to acknowledge Stubstackerversaries, or at the very least, it’s self-serving, but this is a good opportunity for a writer (or observer, documentor, and creative explorer) to revisit their goals when they’re putting out their content to the public; make those goals known so their readership can choose if this is a voice they want to hear from. My first year here was my exit out of the Matrix, at the height of the plandemonium and that was quite a big psyoppy bunny hole to fall into. Bigger than Ted Kazinsky, bigger than moon landing, bigger than 9/11, even. You could say it was like Sauron’s ring: One Psyop to rule them all, One Psyop to find them, One Psyop to bring them all and in the darkness bind them. And sheesh, wearing that tinfoil hat can really bring the darkness out and I am so glad Substack is home to highly intelligent thinkers whose different perspectives provide balance. I’m also incredibly fortunate to call some of you friends.

Lots has happened in the last year but unlike last year’s post, I’ll save the memelanche for the end of 2023 review. I have learned from my last year here that my forte is not hot takes, especially because as a newb CT (critical thinker/conspiracy theorist…potato/potatoh), I am still trying to figure out connections that run deep and putting my half-informed opinions out there will only join the meaninglessness of millions of half-informed opinions already floating around. Especially when it comes to the latest manufactured conflict. I’ve had to resist the urge to engage even if it’s to gently tell someone they are coming off as a fool when they go on justifying straight up murder.

Here’s the thing: people are (yet again!) forced to choose a side. The Jews are being played. And so are we. And so are the Palestinians whose opinion and input are so undervalued, they can’t even serve as pawnery. My inclination is to believe that both David (Palestinians, Gaza, Muslims, Hamas - not all of them the same set of people) and Goliath (Jews, Israel, Zionists, The West - not all of them the same set of people) are controlled, with or without their knowledge and/or consent. And I say ‘David’ and ‘Goliath’ because the main narrative even wants to switch those roles around, just to see if our most generic perceptions can be inverted for extra credit. The playbook is the same. Force the wars. Divide the people. Jingle the keys away from the throne room so the plebs don’t realize how we’re being enslaved and depopulated softly through war, disease, stress (different varieties of genocides, iatrogenocides, democides, etc) until it’s too late, until Moloch has its foot on our neck with us having nothing left worth fighting for. But those of us with kids, we sure do toe that thin line as best we can, finding humour in the absurd abscesses of the human condition.

kristentoomey

A post shared by @kristentoomey

Yes, end of the world stuff. But also, a bit of a paradoxical joke too, really. Recently, I commented on Mary’s post of the sublimely titled Art of Freedom Substack, that

6th gen warfare is perhaps the fight for our spirit. Do we recognise the shadow within and transcend? I still stand by my reasoning that all this havoc is the evolutionary pressure needed to get squeezed into the next level. It’s where binary choices are obsolete because abundance is everywhere.

The way to beat Moloch is not to feed Moloch. Starve it out of its maniacal, omnicidal, carnivorous gluttony. Exit its game board.

To paraphrase OG CT David Icke,

What if they call a war, and nobody comes?

Put that in your bong and smoke it.

Back to goals. This is what happens when I take days to write a post, my tangential streak perks up looking for a tributary to go down on and then my logos has to find a way to return to its main point but only manages to take its sweet time weaving out a run on sentence to try and explain itself. My main focus is to raise collective consciousness to the nature of our reality by unravelling the illusion that has taken its place. This might even require looking at the objectivity of reality itself. Let’s not go there right now.

Some of my goal might be pursued by writing. After all, my lens is just as unique as everyone else’s. Who was it that said you gotta either write things worth reading or do things worth writing?

All this to say that this Substack might get a little eclectic, and maybe you’ve come here for the anti-jab stuff, but perhaps you can stay for the after party, and who knows, more anti-jab stuff might be just around the next ‘winter of death for the unvaccinated.’

All the content here will never be behind a paywall because as much as I’d like to survive financially off of Substack, it’s more important to me to offer my gifts towards our collective evolution. Substack is like OnlyFans*. There are a few people who are making a killing and the rest of us do it more for the love of it, but we do what is ours to do. The people I sub to each have their niche and I’ve had to look inward to see what it is that I offer that is unique to this space and the answer came in the form of a quip from Aussie friend Isaac who termed me the “collab queen” and I rather like that. It feels good to collaborate with people across the planet and amplify their message; it whispers the same song as theatre did for me; it’s co-creating our human experience. And even in my theatre days, as much as I had to wear the director or producer hat, I always made a better wingman. I can’t wait, for example, to share the wholesome conspiratorial collaboration that’s born out of Isaac’s gifts; or bring something to life by James Edward Taylor; or visualise the Declaration of Independence and Dependence. Or help turn the research of dot connectors and friends Mathew Crawford, Liam Sturgess, and Libre Solutions into a special treat. This list is not exhaustive. My project list runs long so in addition to writing, I plan on continuing with a lot more video creation. To unravel the nature of our reality. So we can expand consciousness. And really enjoy this ride we call life even if turns out it’s only a simulation. 😂

You guys still here?

I hope so, because in the spirit of collabs, I have a couple of treats to share. The first video is by the scathingly-tongued-open-letter writer and goosebump-inducing poet Margaret Anna Alice whose Do You Remember? was our first collaboration. Many of us have used her term ‘philanthropath’ as a self explanatory shorthand on Substack, but hoping to help the term spread in normie world where the underlying psychopathy of the corporate-medical-military-banking complex still lies obfuscated under layers of propaganda and incessive jar-shaking. Anatomy of a Philanthropath is another powerful Margaret moment and I’m grateful she has opened up her creative world to me.

Anatomy of a Philanthropath: Poem (Video)

The second collaboration is almost a year in the making as Daisy Moses Chief Crackpot and her kin, ‘the youn’ whippersnapper’ had sent me a parody song about ol’ Sleepy Joe. Now, I originally put together a video with stock images but wasn’t too keen on it, and neither was Daisy, so she challenged me to create it in a very specific collage-y style which I had no idea how to do. The process ended up being quite labour intensive, but I feel like I learned more editing tricks in doing this one video than I have since I started editing a year ago with a collection of about twenty projects behind me. So, thank you, Daisy, for the challenge, may you ever grace us with your punnery and thanks for bringing us Where, Where the Hell is Joe?

Where, Where the Hell is Joe? a spankin' new music viddeyo!

And lastly, speaking of picking up some skills and speaking of psychopaths, I wanted to expand my tool bag with a few AI gimmicks, so I went and animated my post The Psychopaths are Dying to see what will come of it. It’s a bit dark so as to compliment this Hallow’s Eve; after all, there is no more frightening threat to humanity than our psychopathy ending life as we know it, know what I’m sayin’? It also happens to be my very first Substack post, a bit wet behind the years, but hence more apropos to include it as I enter my third year of stacking. I can’t say I hate it entirely. Will try my hand at it again, with subject matter less dark and pumped on black pills.

Oh, and before I forget, as promised, my Halloween portrait for my 2nd Substack anniversary hails from the vaults when we used to imitate Victorian death photography at parties (yes, it was a lot of fun, and so was I.)

With my dear friend and top tier performer Silent Marvin

This Halloween portrait is pretty accurate to my theme of the year: waking up. I spent a lot of my life sleepwalking through life. May that phase be over so I can tune into how the universe wishes to express itself through me. As corny as it sounds, it starts with love. Can’t think of a more powerful force in the universe. Love for self, love for family, love for nature, love for humanity.

No man is an Island, intire of it selfe; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.

John Donne, Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions, 1624

*I have never logged into an OnlyFans.

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The author of Visceral Adventure believes in the gift economy and therefore offers all content with no paywall, asking you to contribute whatever amount feels good to you. Since value is unique and subjective, only you can decide what (if any) contribution is gifted at this time. All contributions benefit and support my family.

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As always, thank you for being a part of my journey.