Mr Andrew James Brinkman


Welcome to my blog. I document my adventures through the mind. Hope you have a nice stay!

71 Make

71 Make

Make, means, Sacrifice dies.


To make a golden weapon, will kill a golden monster: Or will it?


If we ignore our demons, we live without resistance or persistence, which dwells in the quagmire. If we are to dwell, we think really hard about the emptiness of being without a fight or flight path, of breaking fashions and ties with the modern world and into the depths of internal hardship. We are only heavenly when we open up and produce or reproduce, whether this is sex or some progenitive force. After all, we come from a real, unclassified concrete system, prevailing in enquiry to try harder than ever before. This may be when we have an opportunity or when one arises, by our own making, if anything is possible. As we learnt from the Secret, and the Law of Attraction, to attract an abundance into our lives by positive thought. Some already know how to bring good into their life, and all it takes is to believe in oneself, and bring an abundance to yourself, for what you say, who you are and how you act: with ingenuity and confidence in the self, a belief system. Coolé. Therefore the making makes us into being, not only thinking, but doing, therefore I am. To be a visionary may mean the last is the best and always the last accomplishment, as the journey of building rises from beginning to end, it only takes to continue on. Think twice about a lifestyle alongside that effortless trying and crying. And we do it with ease.


To build weapons to kill Monsters, is obtuse. When the monster will only come back bigger and better. Therefore before we sacrifice ourselves we need to accept monsters and love them all the same. To let go of the monster and to let it be, well, there is a gangsta in all of us, running things. The monster might be paranoia, angst or just something unsightly. If there is a reality to this, we only need to look at dinosaurs, our ancestors, from which we have evolved, and to see the primitive spirit in us all, as we turn to our local talisman for guidance. When we silence our soul, we are more accepting, but still the pain, welling up inside, can feel like a sacrifice itself. When we create with negative energy, we may find more passion, and a reflection or resurrection of our emotions into material matter. Getting messy, mucky and filthy, both physically, and metaphorically helps the mind to step up a gear, after all sex rules! To invigorate the soul, as it is nothing to be ashamed of. If the mind is already at ease, then there is no sacrifice, and one has the catalyst and stimulation to have conquered the monster, and we are into being.


Are we making a weapon?


In some respects tools, less weapons are being made to overcome adversity, however: Are they universal or not? Not always, sometimes for a fan base, or merely the joy of the maker. How do we know if we have a universal tool of popularity? If it is clear, snappy, to the point and ingenious. Originality can suffer at the hand of pure originality, where sources are not referenced, save genius. To make something off the top of one's head could be an insightful remark to start, but will need the continuity of history and progression in the long run. In an age of anomaly and even anomie, the better heart on the sleeve is a weapon. Not of mass destruction, but quite the opposite, as a form of construction. Constructive weaponry based on real weapons, as the chemicals that save, destroy, so the weapon that destroys, saves. This is the key to a better living breed to reverse the wrongs through devolution, the CARTOON GUN, and the dot on the wall, equally help to resolve what makes no sense in the sacrificial mind; into war over monsters, through artistic means, it only takes variety.


Sacrifice is the weaponry, so we will save sacrifice, and pray! In a world of meta modern, one must reverse the spell, to find solace in artistic weapon making to avoid sacrifice.

‘U / N / I / Verse at War’ © The Roots 1996.  ‘... . -.-. .-. . - / .-- .- .-.’


‘You don’t see us, but we see you’ © The Roots 1999. ‘-... .. --. / -... .-. --- - .... . .-.’


‘Return to Innocence Lost’ © The Roots 1999.  ‘.--. . .-. ... --- -. .- .-.. .. - -.-- / -.-. .-. .- -.-. -.-‘


You only vice in life to burn your own soul, making life slow and slurred, rushing to break train, open door, hustle for seat, done with this day.  Get up tomorrow and repeat.


Your only lie to yourself is calling yourself names, under vigor of childish attitude like you need this to understand your inner devil to be blamed, and framed.


Mother’s do despair when child hates oneself and no-longer stands his own, for his own ground.  There is only one way to believe you are beautiful, and make that your war of the day.


But hook, line and sinker, sins this spin into annihilation of twisted sexual proud, caught in life, for rhythmic shroud, in time louder, and loud, making hump loving a must to war the sex, and bust the cuss into utter childish flattery for we need humping into vexation but no longer vexed. 


We’re in a secret war.


The Lord we rest on, ‘guide us’.  Guide ourselves, make declarations of war and we find love.


The war of interjection means we need time to pace, but only really our love is hurt not the criticism.


Critical theory tells us to infer which way of two sides to go, but neo-Nazi stops I dealing in truth, honesty and freedom.  Sodomy never caught up with me it is utter war next, just to finish him off.


The danger of war is to make a reaction in a Monist way and find one wrong not to know all her curves, all her facets.  Fun-loving always wins, no war, just Man’s secret to conquer her, and her entirety, until she comes into being.


Secret wars like Che and Fidel’s make us look naive, nimble, but translucent, for his cloak of dense coloured smoke for which we live by in our minds, but always tempered by 21 st Century realities.  We live as if we are history through existentialist reprieve and go on making new ideas under the roof of new order, next movement, and a safe party!


Pleasant stops at the fun fair, candy floss on her lips tell us that is all we needed.  The real secret war that goes on behind curtains is over money, foot limits, busting your card on the contactless machine, making yourself in a drunken stupor to find out there was really a point to that?  You need to make your life with yourself and your home. 


‘Everything you need you have’ by Gerad Kite, states we all talk rubbish, embarrass each other, make presumptions and find out it is our physical health that is to blame.  But you have to be really lost to believe you need to read it if just taking on a song, a good drink in moderation, and fight that mediocrity, just as I am now with intelligent provocation.


Statistics mean we have no chance under a system unless we have the reputation to overbear it, and too much abuse gets in the way.  ‘No we do care, that is exactly why you are not allowed!’  The answer my friend is to ask for justice, and govern yourself.  This can be done by understanding law, the order of life, and where we come first.  


How to aform chaos is to listen to the Gods, for here comes CHE, and the LORD!




And the reason is thus: ‘Our health is empty instead of replete’.


There are innocent people being misinterpreted by their old friends wishing ill-health, surgeons finding out mistruths to cut further than is required, people forced by black mail to have oncology, misdiagnosis of mental health, the list goes on, all because insurance companies and big cats have to get wealthier and wealthier, whilst the innocent suffer.  This is our secret war, our stealth, our private interlude, to begin a revolution in health.


There have been enough 'IOU’s' says Noreena Hertz.  So the World Bank Wins, and by the way they will not be at your funeral, because they’re a bit busy making everyone pay their way, and oh what a shame to know you’ve gone, actually we could do with some of him, I know says someone?  We’ll clone them, then we’ll all be happy, and by the way they can’t procreate, so we’ll make fun of them behind our nouveau-riche existence.  OH what fun says the banker.


‘U / N / I / Verse at War’ is where we’re at.  Burning more than we’re learning, now is the time to learn the art of your secret war! Go! Go! 

72 Meritocracy

72 Meritocracy

70 Friend

70 Friend