Posts Tagged ‘Laughter Vibration’

Jon Rappoport ~ Last-Minute Thoughts For July 4: Light At The End Of The Tunnel

Here’s a synchronous piece from Jon Rappoport about the incredibly subversive power of laughter. Oh, yes! There’s a reason that in Mary Poppins, Mr. Banks frees himself from the banksters when he finally gets the punch line to: “I once knew a man with a wooden leg named Smith.” “What was the name of his other leg?” Fuddy duddy, stick in the mud, Matrix-Man Mr. Banks starts laughing and he can’t stop until he runs home and takes his happy family to go fly a kite.

Jon’s story about his visit to the Sistine Chapel reminds me of a story I texted my sister yesterday after I read that having a bird poop on you is good luck “unless you wipe it off.” LOL, who wouldn’t wipe it off?!

In the Summer of 1990, I stood in line to see Lenin’s Tomb in Red Square, Moscow. This was meant to be a solemn affair. Smiling and certainly laughter were forbidden. The Soviet guards had huge clubs to enforce the etiquette. I was traveling with a group of high school students, one of whom was a total pretty boy, would be ladies man. He’d spend an hour or more on his hair each day, and he never lacked a pickup line. On this most solemn of occasions giving our “respects” to the figurehead who paved the way for the Soviet Police State, a bird flew over and pooped on the ladies man’s crisp white shirt. It wasn’t just any poop, though. It was fluorescent green (quite similar to the faucet water from our hotel in then Leningrad). Anyway, I was 17 years old, and I lost it.

Guards arrived with clubs in hand. One of them began to yank me out of the line until I gestured to the fluorescent green streak. I apologized for being a silly “American,” and they all let me go with a stern warning in Russian and a threatening grasp of their clubs. I managed to keep a straight face until we got through the creepfest of a hallowed politician’s body on display since 1924.

I’m not saying it has anything to do with my many outbreaks of inappropriate laughter on that trip, or with the Russian people’s admirable ability to laugh at the follies and restrictions of Soviet life, but in 1991, the USSR officially disintegrated.

Anyway, here’s Jon. Thanks, G!

Jon Rappoport ~ Last-Minute Thoughts For July 4: Light At The End Of The Tunnel

For 95% of the population, if you give them hope they eat it like candy and forget it an hour later. Then they want more. They’re hooked on the hope machine.

They somehow believe Hope is Action.

They are the fearful, the submissive, and the delicate.

They have an endless capacity for self-delusion.

Hoping for hope is what elects presidents, one after another. Whereas, what would happen if enough of us refrained from voting for either of the two major criminals campaigning on behalf of the double-headed Washington crime family?

On election day we would crash the system by withdrawing our consent, the consent of the governed.

We wouldn’t be hoping for hope.

“Today, the American people registered an astonishing 13% turnout and loudly expressed their no-confidence in government. Washington is lying in electoral ruins.”

If the live audience for one of those half-cocked presidential television debates roared with derisive laughter at every turn, they would sink the whole charade, in front of millions of viewers.

“…a better day ahead for all Americans…”

Laughter cracks like thunder through the hall.

It bounces off the walls and runs up and down the aisle. It invades people all over the America in their homes. Despite themselves, they begin chortling.

Pretty soon, they’re rolling off the couch and hitting the floor. They call other people to make sure they’re watching the debate, but they can’t talk. They can only shriek with laughter.

The whole country bursts its androidal bubble. Waking up from the big trance.

I’m sure you know about movements in states to nullify federal laws on the grounds they’re constitutionally illegal. Ultimately, this is a form of corrosive laughter.

Decentralization of illegitimate power should be a laughing matter. It should stage parades with surreal floats. It should walk along sidewalks with crazy signs. It should bellow from billboards. It should come blasting out of churches.

You want to make a difference? Organize a hundred parents in your town and have them make guns out of pink cookie dough and give them to their kids, to take to school. It’s a start. It stimulates the dormant absurdity-center of the brain. It screws with the robots in charge of things.

I want to hear what a million people standing in the Washington Mall laughing at the federal government sounds like. I really do.

When was the last time you laughed so hard you thought you were going to die? Remember how that feels? Reality explodes. Which is the whole point.

Last week, I was watching the news—a form of self-torture I try to avoid. I can’t even remember what the item was. It was some kind of baroque political jive. I went into hysteria-land all of a sudden. It was one of those laughing-weeping blow-ups out of nowhere. I ended up with my head on my knees.

I don’t know about you, but I need that once a day. I really do.

This isn’t the red pill or the blue pill. It’s the crap-in-your-pants pill.

A few years ago, it happened to me in the Vatican. We were there to see Michelangelo’s ceiling in the Sistine Chapel. Have you ever gone? The room is like a steam bath. It’s hot and humid. You’ve got these people, who’ve come from all over the world, and they’re sitting on benches around the periphery and standing—and they’re all looking up.

It only takes a few minutes to realize Michelangelo wasn’t a happy camper lying on that scaffold. On most of the panels, he did fast cartoons. Now and then he’d bear down and execute an immortal face. But most of the time he was aching and grumbling and wondering how he’d let himself get roped into the commission.

This struck my funny bone. I held it in until we got out of the room and were walking back toward the entrance. Then I started laughing. A few people saw me and didn’t like it. Too late. That made me laugh harder. The whole thing, the whole edifice of the Church, with its specialized access to God through licensed priests, was now bleeding into my laugh-center. I was a goner.

It took me a hundred yards along the carpeted corridors to calm down. But then I was at the counter where they sell prints of the Michelangelo—horrifically bad prints—and I was in stitches again.

Wait a minute. What about the millions and millions of people around the world—the billions—who are in chains of one kind or another, who are starving and dying, who are fighting manipulated wars, who are suffering…

The point is, that’s all coming from centralized criminal power. It’s no joke. But when you start to decentralize, when you think about it and find ways to DO it, the whole frame of the Matrix wobbles, the whole arch of consensus bullshit reality and the media that promote it do become a matter for laughter.

And not just a giggle or two. I’m talking about immortal laughter that wipes them off the face of the Earth. I’m talking about a natural and repressed impulse that, unless it’s exercised to the fullest, can turn around and ruin your well-being and take you down.

The Matrix is a joke because it’s designed to stand in for your own power to create reality. That’s the biggest joke of all. If I were the king of that most insane of all human endeavors—”mental health”—I would rewrite the books and point out that Sanity is, in fact, solely defined as: being able to comprehend the biggest joke of all…and that’s all Sanity is.

If you can’t access your imagination, you can’t laugh. Simple.

And you’re dead.

So, for Independence Day, this is a call to remember that most profound of kiddie tales: The Emperor’s New Clothes.

He’s so naked in so many different ways. When millions of people see it and know it and point it out and respond to it and laugh at it, we have a different kind of revolution.

We’re no longer sucking pipe on the Hope Machine.

We now live in a society where people feel they’re entitled to complain: “I can’t laugh!” As if this rates sympathetic notice.

Not only must we find a way to laugh, we must find a way to make it penetrate to the depth of the Matrix itself. We must find a way to expose the whole joke at the bottom of the despicable power system, so it dies, so it stands naked and decapitated.

This kind of comedy isn’t a light brush-off. It isn’t a modest chuckle. It’s a typhoon that attacks the ship and blows enough holes in it to make it sink.

Sink it.

Every human was once a child who knew how to laugh at lunatic buttoned-up eyes-straight-ahead deadly Reality. Then we became card-carrying members of that buttoned-up farce.

We lost our way. We died and forgot.

It’s time for a resurrection. And an insurrection.

I have absolutely no doubt that some readers will to choose to misunderstand what I’m saying here. So be it.

They’ll claim I’m some sort of gooney Rainbow man. That will definitely make me laugh. Definitely.

So anyway…the war on drugs and the war on cancer and the war on terror and all the other phony wars are efforts to make people fear danger.

Brian (“I’m just a boy scout on a bike with a newspaper route”) Williams; Scott (“I’m not a licensed doctor but I’m performing brain surgery on you”) Pelley; and Dianne (“don’t cry for me, America, I’m weeping for all of us”) Sawyer are beaming this fear at the population every night.

Underneath it all, they’re worried that you’ll see through the scam and start laughing at them. The whole stench-ridden corpus of the news will then collapse in slime and dust.

In other words, danger is the cover story they sell to keep a lid on the massive impulse to ridicule entrenched power into the ground.

This strategy mirrors how many people talk to themselves: “Things are too dangerous and serious to laugh at. I have to march forward with my eyes locked on the next automaton in line.”

Laughter is a trigger for Decentralization of life.

Laughter seems impotent only to the people who can’t laugh.

My advice: shun those people. Their minds are swamped with Literal Reality. If they hear the world is their oyster, they’re down in the sand on the beach digging for the one that will change everything for them.

Don’t think so? I recently wrote a piece about 150 MILLION Americans going to Mexico, swimming back to the US, and becoming instant welfare millionaires. There were readers who were convinced this was a news story.

Satire? Parody? Never heard of it. Because they can’t laugh. They don’t believe in the concept. They’re against it.

Defeating laughter is, in fact, their bottom-line cause. They’re the Matrix People.

Jon Rappoport
http://www.nomorefakenews.com

Whole Foods, Vir, and Mary Poppins

I’m not on The Book of Faces anymore, so maybe most people have already seen these videos. Language warning for sensitive ears, but if you’ve ever shopped at a Whole Foods in California, let’s just say, you might relate. The first video was from Summer 2011 when they temporarily took kombucha off the shelves due to high fermentation (alcohol) levels. In their defense, I will admit that I once got drunk off a Grape Synergy Kombucha on an empty stomach … but then again, I’m a lightweight. 😉

Sensitive people who prefer a more relaxed vibe, might enjoy Vir:

Lest anyone think I’m making fun of them by posting these videos, please know that I’m just having a good giggle at myself and feeling ever so slightly nostalgic for Monterey, Sonoma County, Sedona, and Santa Fe. I much prefer life now, but, my goodness, those were some fun, silly times! (And I still bring kombucha to parties…)

The faeries say, “Lighten up! Have a giggle. Don’t take yourself so seriously!” What can I say? “I Love to Laugh” was my favorite song as a kid. When you look at all the kookoo things in this world (and no, I don’t mean kombucha or healthy living), sometimes ya just gotta laugh. I hear it’s the best medicine. 😉

Laughter: A Contagious Way to Raise the Collective Vibration

In the spirit of raising the vibration from all sorts of angles, I just had to post the below video today. I dare you to watch it and not start giggling!

Laughter is the best medicine on both personal and collective levels! “At the height of laughter, the universe is flung into a kaleidoscope of new possibilities.” ~Jean Houston. It’s also one of the fastest vibe shifters around. “Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward.” ~Kurt Vonnegut.

I prefer laughter, too, but in case you’re wanting or needing some extra inspiration and support for the holidays, then yes, the Holiday Centerpiece Special continues through December 31. (Some people asked for clarification since the Gift Certificate offers ended yesterday, but this one runs all month long.)

The Holiday Centerpiece

This $111 one hour reading is specially tailored to help you find and maintain your center throughout this darkest time of year, which happens to coincide with family and societal obligations that can pull you off balance. When we can’t follow our usual routines, changes in diet, meditation, exercise and location can sometimes grow into bigger snowballs than we see outside. This reading will help you unwrap your own special coping mechanisms to keep you in good cheer even without a lot of time, sunshine, or support. Over the years, I’ve helped many people strategize for family gatherings, holiday work events or hosting parties. It’s amazing what the right mantra, vision, story, past life perspective, or symbol can do to calm your nerves and lift your spirits. I use my intuition to help you find those little, unobtrusive things you can do to create the peace, joy and ease you’d like to experience.

…And now, some chuckles, giggles, guffaws, snickers, teehee’s, snorts, chortles and laughs for you!