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Psychic Forensics: Autopsy of Karl Rove’s Brain

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Psychic Forensics pursues crime with tools unavailable in 2005. The ability to use these tools through warp-rinths mapped through the Akashic Record didn’t get discovered til 2211 by Myrth, part of the S. Finley Breese Morse communications-inventions bloodline.

Before we begin our story about the horrific discoveries about Karl Rove’s diseased brain using Psychic Forensics, let’s clear up some lingo for you.

The Akashic Record is that indelible record (or imprint, really) of experience upon the all-senses papyrus of the multiverse. It’s all there in infinity for those who can read it. Your cat can’t read a book, but that doesn’t mean that a mammal (you) with a different skill set can’t decode a myriad of information distilled in those squiggles.

There is no thought, no envy, no patience that can be forged (faked) or forgotten. The multiverse is an incomprehensibly gigantic information system. You are embedded in the multiverse – it’s not like you can step out of it, have a rotten thought or action and step back in — in disguise by deceit. Yes, it is all recorded. A sobering thought.

Anyhow, Myrth was into maps. Maps are not truth, but they are links, useful links by which you can follow a theme or a thread. Warp-rinths are a kind of pattern of tunnels through time that orient you to certain threads in either a life of surpassing beauty or a life of surpassing ugliness like Karl Rove’s.

A labyrinth may seem confusing, but it is a path. Warp-rinths are just such paths through times as well as spaces.

Consider Mavericks, the greatest break on the planet – a wave so thick, deep, and powerful that only a handful of the greatest surfers dare ride it. And it killed the best of all time. Surfing the Akashic Record is like riding Mavericks except that you’re not just dealing with that one wave in one time. The times can slip a chron on you and you lose the thread. (Your mind can be mangled in time-riding certain time-waves.) It’s very tricky, though sherlockianly fascinating, of course. I’ll explain more about that another time (haha), about how to stay oriented in time when navigating the Akashic Record. Think sense of smell.

Myrth and Quetzal were time-riders and psychic detectives. They returned through a warp portal to confer with pogblog, an early 21st century bloggelist.

When you deal in nanotime (later called luzime or light-time), it’s a question of angles, not of distance. It’s very origami, very folded. It’s all potentially immediate.

Karl Rove was a very nasty piece of work. He derailed planet progress, equality, and happiness, and added to the sum of human misery as much as any sick villain who ever trod the dear earth.

Psychic forensics examines crime with a psy-ray. A psy-ray is like an x-ray in that it reveals interior things. It just reveals mental/psychic realites (shapes, forms, sequences) rather than bones and tissues. It’s all a matter of tuning frequencies – and what isn’t?

Instead of wanting to tenderly and effectively do good, somehow there came to pass a group of greedy and empty people who wanted to aggrandize and rule.

The question in 2211 was no longer how to psy-ray a deviant psyche, but rather how to translate the forensic info back into the less holospheric 2006 brains.

Karl Rove stank. His diseased mind fed on misery, on the pus of fear. Pain, especially humiliation, tasted good to his herzgeist, the spirit of his cold heart. Deep in his DNA, he was not a mammal. He was cold-blooded. The only way he could feel warm was to drink the blood of the mammal – of the kind, the tending, the care-full.

In addition to being inherently cold, he shared DNA with a long bleak line of cold creatures called anti-empaths. They invented torture tools such as the rack and methods like burning people alive. They rose in the Dark Ages in the Inquisition, justified their atrocities in the Name of God and of protecting the world from sin and sinners. That strain of cunning and sickness went recessive in the DNA until it exploded back on the scene in about 1950 in a batch of killers born on Earth in those years. Karl Rove’s birthday was 12/25/50 – an antichrist indeed and in deed.

Karl Rove likes to humiliate people. He so resented not being the romantic lead, the handsome swaggerer, that he is making the planet pay. The reason madmen often come to power is that they have no doubts. Sane people have doubts. It is very hard to avoid being swayed by coherence (cf a laser) – it is simply a stronger signal. The form is strong. People are convinced by the form, the conviction – amplified by mob effects. It takes serious discipline to see that the completely convincing form may be a vial of poison – what it contains may be evil. (What do you do anyway if you look behind the curtain and see the maggot-writhing corpse of Dick Cheney pulling the levers? The potent hallucinations of patriotism and religions are certainly more apparently comforting that the bizarre and terrible and lonely truths.)

Karl Rove is psychotic. “But he doesn’t look psychotic,” you cry. They seldom do except in movies. The real nutcases have perfected cunning to a degree that you who are fairly sane can not conceive. Look, we all have some complex, hidden peculiarities or worse. But you’re just milling around in the wooden handle of the ice pick, vanilla in your deviance. Karl Rove is the very tip, the perfectly piercing sharp tip of the ice pick of dark and grotesquely disturbed. What is your swath of destruction? Your own peace of mind? Your family’s peace of mind perhaps? You’ve stolen from yourself, your family, and your community. You might have developed your fruitfulness more if your hidden deviances hadn’t stolen so much of your better discipline.

But Karl Rove’s swath is the planet. The creeps he’s enabled have derailed all of America’s crucial collaboration in tending the health and education of its own population. It has poisoned the international atmosphere not only Kyotoilly, but in its paranoid and hysterical response to 9/11. (Three thousand people died. It sucks, but 485,000 people die of tobacco-related deaths every year and there’s no comparable hysteria about that – we don’t do shock and awe on Philip Morris and invade North Carolina.)

We were on a relative fiscal even keel in 2000. Obscene and absurd kick-backs to the Have-Mosts capsized the fiscal ship with no lifeboats for the poor. Let them swim.

The outer world deeds are catastrophic and your children’s children will still be paying for the Have-Mosts’ self-centered, profligate indulgences. But the ugliness of Karl Rove’s cold soul is a genius of anti-pity stealth. He is a hungry ghost. He is a ravenous ghost. He always goes for your strength: He cuts your balls off. The thing you honor in yourself, the thing you did that was good – that’s what he twists and pisses on. And he doesn’t just twist it into a bad light – he triple twists it into a disgusting, a shameful light. And if you retort, you are deepened into the shame. It is not ever unprovable.

Dick Cheney is severely psychotic, which we’ll talk about another night, but Karl Rove is even more dangerous because he’s trickier. Cheney is less skilled at the façade. Karl Rove is a supreme shapeshifter. (A tragic shame that he is a wounder rather than a healer.) He never wastes effort. As with all consummate psychopaths, he can ape rationality with all but seamless conviction. (You have to have been repeatedly lied to by a professional liar like a compulsive gambler to have a glimpse at how good these people are at deceit – deceit fits them like a second skin. There is nothing tentative about their mendacity. They have learned that boldness works. The Big Lie works. They enjoy jerking you around – stupid, honest, ordinary you. You may be smart enough in your day job, pilgrim, but they’ve got you completely smoked in cunning.)

People like Karl Rove who get addicted to other people’s extreme humiliation can wreck a world. You must remember that nothing is what it seems with him. Even then you’ll be conned – again. Don’t look at him and his legerdeflak – look at the consequences.

End of preliminary KRB Autopsy Report.
It’d be an honor to have you visit pogblog
. …………….<^>……………..

Edited: nd

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  • I didn’t know that drivel came in gallon buckets.


  • Nancy

    Excellent & dead on analysis. “Psychopath” is right on the button: having known one actual certified diagnosed psycho, I can verify that they are indeed totally capable of appearing so ‘normal’ that YOU are the one left looking crazy. They are manipulative in the extreme, suffer no qualms of conscience, and hence are usually excellent actors & liars, capable of beating any sort of truth-telling tests, including machines & drugs. They are the incarnate argument for the existance of the devil. Unfortunately, too many of them are running this country – and others.

  • An article in this weekend’s NYT says that Karl Rove is back in the GOP driver’s seat. Did he ever really leave? He’s the spine of the Bush Administration. Nothing is accomplished without having his imprimatur. Mr. Rove is to Mr. Bush what Mr. Tolson was to Mr. Hoover (J. Edgar, that is) minus the dresses and lubricant.

  • I didn’t know that Dave Nalle had no mirrors…

  • Dave Nalle

    No, no. Liebnitz said that “Monads have no windows.” Nothing about mirrors.


  • RoveIlk don’t show up in mirrors.

    Nancy, unless people have interacted with a compulsive addict or a psychopath, they are positive that they will be able to see through the deceits. I always thought so before I was exposed to the scrupleless, qualmless mastery of these folk.

    I’m trying to grok it with all my might because getting an angle of light on these hungry ghosts would help the more simply sane.

    As you clearly know, the psychopathic seem just slightly more normal. I’m beginning to lean to the walk-in theory. My friend — and in his right mind he surely is — in his compulsive gambler mode seems suddenly hijacked by The Contemptuous Gambler as if it were an Entity out of the Collective Unconscious. It feels to me as if its skills were honed on centuries of conning the puppets — my friend seems one of The Gambler’s herd of puppets. And in the case of the Gambler (a lives-wrecking addiction — ye gods we should never depend on it for revenue), I have decided that it actually feeds on the flop-sweat and misery of losing. When someone gets very advanced in the condition, it’s hard to imagine that they could be so bad at it? They seem to lose bigger and faster, but that’s another story.

    I just thought now, one might say it’s as if he were abducted — it’s so sudden, so callous. He’s left like a wet dishrag, sodden then wrung out. But he seems in a daze.

    When he’s in the grasp or throes, it is like being in the possession of an archetype, and I’m sure it feels crackish. The ‘entity’ seems to have the levers or the faucet of his high energy. It is what gives him the thrill-adrenalin-juice. He could have this from a lot of other sources with training, but the Gambler is so Cool. (To him — I hate the thing.)

    I’m always interested in the details of your insights on these psychopathic worlds.

    sk, I like to think Mr. Rove will over-inflate his own balloon at last and good ole Hubris will fell him too. Of course, there’s always the Rapture.

  • Nancy

    Uhhhh…I would respond, except you lost me after “I’m trying to grok it….”

  • That was the gist of my complaint as well. If it’s too complex or contrived it ceases to be amusing. No one wants to have to try to diagram an essay to figure out why it’s humorous.


  • If compulsive gambling and other psychopathies weren’t fiendishly complex, we would have solved them centuries ago.

    How is it that on a pretty planet where we could occupy ourselves with construction, we are so neck-deep in either direct destruction or acquiescence with the destroyers? I’m baffled.

    We’re spending $820,000 per minute on weapons of mass destruction and their minders. I’m trying to see what’s behind the curtain of the madness we seem to accept as ordinary.

    It is complex. I think we have to bear down and stick with studying it though so in some generation, we can free ourselves of the disease of this penchant for destruction.