Category: mythology

Everyone has a say; from top to bottom, and throughout the many outposts of commentary. Public announcements, press briefings, interviews, news reports, blog posts, lectures, rallies, magazines, social networks, conversations, demonstrations, TV, radio, and podcasts fill the air with news, opinion, propaganda, and analysis fill the communication ether with a regular feed, and the big media companies press for attention. So it goes for the responsible citizen keeping up with current events.Turn on, tune in, and get buried with information. Routinely we get crisis of the hour breakdowns that are presented as if they are like last minute do or die, heroes and villains ultimatums. Meanwhile, the crisis of the last hour disappears into obscurity. Refrains of accusations like, “That can’t be true.” and alibis such as, ” That’s not what I meant.” are the regular follow up to yesterday’s “fact”.The only way to keep up with this schizophrenic news mess is to have a working attention deficit disorder and some really cheap loyalty to long failed authorities that critically blew their credibility many moons ago. It’s hard to come right out and say that today’s news is fabricated regurgitated garbage, so suffice it to say, it’s not relevant.

Here’s one more point of view. Corporate puppet masters are pulling the strings on heads of state, and their media arm talking heads are doing their level best to drive story lines. There is, operating consecutively, an undercurrent of research hungry investigators screening the corporate undercarriage for actuality, fact, and truth. Free thinking people and truth seeking journalists undermine the corporate cause. Corporate news authority is being seriously challenged. So with big media certain commentaries are promoted while others are marginalized. The relevance of messaging is not proportional to the attention given, or received. So now we have these quirky manifests being dictated through media like the lines of some script, written by a playwright that has lost track of the plot. We have exaggerated cliche sound bites reported through caricatures of power players that have a lame failing trust posture. The subject matter of each manifesto relates to the cause that the speaker wants to support; it does not relate to actuality. The media is a tool. It’s a weaponized tool, and has been for a long long time. This is no mystery. The big media masters want to get in our heads and exercise unyielding influence and control. They must be in a form of panic, however. They don’t know when to say when, and what legitimacy cover they have left is getting blown out with idiotic hysterical hype. US President Biden’s recent MAGA rant in Philly is the latest example. It’s obviously hyped, theatrically delivered, and irrelevant. So irrelevant and wrong, in fact that they themselves could not walk it back fast enough. The upside of this debacle is the sacrifice of some final relevancy.

-Your wasted words will never be heard, go on home baby and watch it on TV. Wasted Words. -Allman Brothers Band, Gregg L Allman

“Turn it off!! Turn it off!!” pleaded the now petrified project manager. His once confident authoritative tone rapidly squeezing and leaking into a shivering plead. Then mustering a failing ability to command the subordinates, the manager began making desperate threats of the other stunned denizens surrounding the now apparently overwound core working element of this covert psychic project. You want to talk about being in over your head!? All the participants of the program were rapidly realizing that they were at the mercy of a system with capacities far exceeding the limits of their own conception. Understanding can only get so far, so fast. With the runaway momentum of a psychic avalanche; surges, pulses, and waves of energy pushed through the ether like verities escaping from Pandora’s box. Madness settles in.

How many times are the captains of material means going to have to learn the lesson that the status of materialism is puny in the big picture of total reality? How hard is it, really, to see through the seduction of material allure? It’s hard to say, but one thing is for sure; stubborn gluttony has an extremely high ceiling of its own. History’s intrigue is in the repetition; it’s pattern. Enough is proving to never be enough in the conquest of the material world. With ever increasing tenacity, each current winner of the monopolistic material race reaches progressively desperately for the levers of control. Inevitably that reach grabs hold of the esoteric. The levers of science, technology, mysticism, and magic are the control freak’s dream. It is a big beware area, but it is devil may care for the power drunk insatiable freaks that have lost the balance of sanity, or are animated by evil; thus lacking caring, conscience, or compassion and simply not giving a rat’s ass about who, and what, gets hurt, or how bad. The at all cost procurement of mine, mine, mine has taken over. This is just the slightest surface scratch of the impending download of reality that the material champion is prone to unleash, yet, as is the want; here we go again.

The Montauk Project is a great example of what happens with runaway realty surges. Montauk Chronicles is a documentary of the Project. It lays out the fascinating story of the secret work, the difficulties of reconciliation, historical accuracy, detail, and the meaning of endeavoring to tap the quantum field for strategic purposes. Good luck reconciling the extra-ordinary elements that unfold from the quantum field. When it becomes clear that the power of creation is ultimately what is in charge, it’s too late in the game to reverse course and un-happen the happenings, or un-witness the events that precious few are prepared to witness. It is a runaway event procession of anything statistic or relativistic. Predictability is long gone. Stopping quantum looping is like trying to put a lid on an atomic bomb with a paper cup. So, whether you are Aleister Crowley, Napoleon Bonaparte, Idi Amin, JP Morgan, or any other power drunk monger that is endeavoring to claim ultimate power for their own, once the seams of reality loosen, and a bit of the Infinite begins to leak through, you are immediately disabled.

In the modern world we find ourselves on the enforced, and largely agreed upon, calendar timeline that puts us in the year 2022, there is a current events news feed that reads like a maelstrom of urgency, crisis, and chaos. Around the world there are edge of your seat dramas of do, don’t, and/or die. an epoch of serious liberty infringement controller programming. Highs of scientific expression are proudly described as root of reality tools. Quantum computers, geo engineering, CERN, and HAARP all push the fabric of reality. The consequences of this determined effort to make Reality obey has set the stage for a whopper of cascading enlightenment. Daily duties of practicality may, and do, work to lure most of us into a trance like one foot in front of the make ends meet practice estranged from the truth of peril. To be sure, there is immense good will among people and peoples, however, the efforts of the parasitic control class is critically toxifying the environment in the runaway way that is the out of control crash of a quantum reset that has already had many people of all walks exclaiming, “Turn it off! Turn it off!”

It’s been clear for a while now that by consenting, even passively, to the workings of the modern corporate world, I have been helping to feed it. The vision of the out of control crash of the world, that is enhanced by such things as Montauk, leave me pondering… In small ways and large it’s important to operate on a sovereign schedule, independent of control. It’s not easy to do, and hard to stick to. One thing is undoubted right now; on planet earth there is a quantum download running on its own. Anyone(s) that thinks that they are in control could not be more wrong. Let those that claim to be in charge run their mouths and have their own. It sucks to think that this world of overflowing abundance was exploited to the brink of exhaustion and collapse, but guess what!? The veil is torn. The pins are pulled. Though we may not realize it, we are on a cosmic Nantucket sleigh ride. I’m sensing strongly that holding it together during this cataclysm will require a serious effort to endeavor to forgive and help others. From animal to vegetable both loved and loathed the era of self service is over for those that would like to see a brighter day.

The most hopeful aspect of this beginning/end is that the controllers, operators, and authorities are eternal cowards. With the final failure of their lies collecting, it’s a sure bet that these creeps will be the first to jump ship. If the time is right for a return to balance these freaks will jump straight into hyper space like the desperate sailors on the Eldridge in Philadelphia. Once over board you are into the most soaring energy fields. Swept up into time and space. See ya!! For some harmony in the hearts of those that don’t explode of crazy perhaps the dawn is of the day beyond good and evil of today to an egalitarian era of reasonable bliss. For one thing there is no denying; we are well on our way.

Any reason for war is a total, complete, comprehensive, insidious lie.

The Colorado River peaks / Inventing passes, watching beneath / The tide’s abundant tree venom loose / Cannon shot shaft cleanly remove

Bast bast bast the last / Dripping webs so sacrifice / The dreaming dream dreamer up so along / Mining a mucous phlegm all alone

Carrying torches, monkeys, and cream / Developing petals by an atrophied stream / Coming back fishing, coming back clean / Miraculous marvels, the death birds relieved

I was four or five years old when my mother, my one year younger sister, and I were over in the next town to see the pediatrician, Dr. S. None of my memories from this early time are clear; not in a linear way. That said, all my thoughts and memories of visits with Dr. S are pretty friendly, except for one. The memory that is indelibly etched into my mind is of what happened on this particular day.

Our doctor’s office was in a house. You would walk in from the driveway/small parking lot into a basement room which served as a waiting room. The room had the 1950’s – 60’s vintage panelling that worked to make the room feel dim brown. In this case it was a lighter shade of dim. Off of the waiting room was a corridor. Down this hallway were the examination rooms. The hall wasn’t long, and there were maybe three or four rooms. We were going into the first room on the left.

The room was a typical, as seen on TV, primary care physician’s room. There was the obligatory examination table, counters, and cabinets surrounding the room. My sister and I were invited to sit on the table. We dutifully agreed, and got up on the table. We were sitting next to each other. She was to my right, and I to her left, side by side. I’m not sure how my sister felt right at that time. I don’t remember feeling any real nervousness. I can’t remember where our mom was. I do remember following the doctor across the room with my eyes. He made it in the direction of the the door to the room, and got busy with some materials that were there on a like a counter to the right of the door. Dr. S. turned in our direction holding a hypodermic, a needle!! Every thing went code red for me.

An emergency panic alert went off inside me. All of a sudden, I had no access to duty, compliance, or control. I literally hit the floor running. Out the door, through the lobby, and crashing into the exit door I went. Hysterically screaming in horror and terror, I desperately panic grappled with the door knob for escape. Grabbed!! I was grabbed!!! In their immediate surprise, my mom and Dr. S. tried to hold on to me, and calm me down. My visceral trajectory was skyrocketing. There was no calming this kid down. Spontaneous wails of pleading, “NO! NO! NO!” coincided with the most ferocious desperate writhing wrestle for release I could muster. In this precious moment of blind terror, I was either going to get out of there, or die trying.

What happened next is blurry, yet distinct. I was being dragged back into the examination room. Dr. S. was no feeble guy, and my mom was very strong. In the ensuing human tug of war, I gave it all I had. Clinging to anything I could grab was my emergency strategy to avoid this sudden, unexpected nightmare. At no point did I try to attack my persuaders, but did I plead!? The struggle lasted for a blind amount of time. I was lost in desperation. Screaming, grabbing, running, pulling, holding, grappling, and straining to the maximum. “You can’t!!” “I won’t!!” Then a sort of inevitability took place. I was losing strength. I remember feeling my arms and hand losing their strength. Just like in a tug of war, you could see that the progress was slowly, but surely, inching in the direction of the stronger side.

I collapsed. There was still a little strength left in me. Just enough to sit up next to my sister again. After being replaced in the jump seat, I was sitting there overwhelmed, exhausted, and temporarily resigned to compliance. It now seems like a hypnotic trance had taken over. The memories are quiet. First my sister, then me. In and out went the needles, delivering their quiver of “whatever” to make you better by vaccination they are supposedly about. The rest of this visit has disappeared from memory; disappeared like the vague aspect of a suspicious dream. What remains is the intensity of the feelings.

In a world of crippled discernment, and shredded trust, a survival reliance system is really for one’s own making. This pre-political, pre-programming, pre-illness gut response of mine is still alive. The gut feeling is the most reliable. I’m going to trust it. These modern day shots are everywhere. Pass at one’s own risk. I know I opted out at the outset, and the no shot conviction is stronger now than ever. With all due respect, take your shot and stick it. Blessings, and mercy, for anyone that will have them in their body; they are totally unwelcome in mine.

Whenever an information, or news source, that seems reliable for accurate, effective, and factual information is found, I apply another evaluation criteria. Is the news delivered without editorial opinion. In other words, is the news allowed to speak for itself? When the reporter becomes commentator they rapidly enter the margin for me. Interpretive reporting smells of agenda. If it’s opinion we want, that’s what we will look for. OK!?

Dane Wiggington, the host of Geoengineering Watch Global Alert News, loads a lot of information into weekly broadcasts, however, each broadcast is packed with opinion. He encourages the listener to do follow up research, and references actual data sources, which does prove to reinforce most of the key points of the reporting, but as an interested researcher, I consistently suspect that the host has some self serving angle. The subject matter is sensitive, alarming, and certainly serious. Taken on it’s face, you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t become emotional by the news. It’s important, however, to trust the person that’s listening to the news, and not tell them what to think. Sarcasm and suggestion are not the rule here. Just give it to us straight. When a host trusts us, I’m positive it’ll be easier to trust the host.

The overall value of being up to date on current events is debatable. Pursuing liberty involves making decisions of what to do, and, in ways, how to do it. When conviction comes about of how something has been helpful and useful for personal growth then one might very well like to share it. This could be helpful! Sharing information that serves to effectively challenge, fortify, corroborate, or improve a worldview has a real value. It would be a shame to corrupt the information with opinion. Sharing Global Alert News has a big caution. Dane does a good job of maintaining relevancy, so threads of coherence are discernible, and metaphysical (big picture) themes do manifest. I haven’t missed many installments over the past ten years or so. Man?! The years a passing quickly!! Over this period of time there hasn’t been many retractions or major corrections. The reporting has been consistent. It’s been largely on point. Rightness and correctness stand up on their own validity. It’s way more about what is right than being right. It would be great to share a broadcast that doesn’t come off as an effort to tell you how you should think, as opposed to understanding that there are things that may help you with what you do think. Just give it to me straight.

At the risk of making an imposition, check out geoengineeringwatch.org

What is, kind of, more important? The fate of some basketball player that thought it would be cool to turn the Russian National Team onto hash oil, or this…

Deforestation of Brazil’s Amazon hits record for the first half of 2022. ??

Or…

Summer wildfires ravage forest rich Siberia. ??

Or maybe…

Alaska’s June wildfires break records, fueled by hot, dry weather. ??

There really is a big bit of comedy to tragedy.

In a world of reactionarily creative makeshift terminology, used to claim authority over previously unobserved phenomena, comes another pseudo science term. Sudden adult death syndrome is the catch call for the unfolding rash of a new death phenomena among seemingly healthy adult people. Here’s a tip from a kooky marginal conspiratorial alarmist fool… Stop taking the shots.

The sketchy denial of planetary scale geoengineering is long past ridiculous. After recently reading the article DISCOVERING A NEW WAY BY WHICH AEROSOLS RAPIDLY FORM AND GROW AT HIGH ALTITUDE at phys.org, it hit home that we’ve hit a new high water mark for creative denial. As the obviousness of unnatural phenomena explodes, and can not, any longer be excused with the lame blame of “irresponsible behavior” in other countries, we get this “trust the science” stuff. The collective, “We don’t know.” that continues to be the calling card of the systematic denial deception of intentional climate intervention. It has become such an amazing joke.

The narration of modern society, here on planet earth on the enforced calendar marker of 2022, has collapsed into absurdity. With that, it feels like being pushed up against the wall of re-evaluation. The unreconcilable mess that’s being promoted as viable, professional statesmanship and leadership is the tragic sitcom that has outlasted the screenplay, and nobody in the public eye is any good at making it up on the fly. The crush of political correctness has left a gaping inability to communicate even the simplest forms of hellos and goodbyes. Thusly, the actors in the theater of state are reduced to these incoherent babbling rants of nonsense. Speeches and talks that are routinely interrupted by pauses of blank expressionless stares reserved for those that have just woken up from a delirious nap. The novelty of all this brain locking malfunction would be highly comedic if it were not so tragic. The tragedy is, for sure, that people all over have not only had their liberty crushed, they’ve had to deal with murderous injustice. Widespread active and tacit consent of ever increasing, and increasingly glaring, wrongs among those less immediately threatened has weighted the scales reconciliation. We can’t snap out of our collective state of normalcy biased hypnosis quickly enough. At some point you gotta figure that one of these gaffe riddled official absurdity displays is going to act like a psychological smelling salt, and wake us the hell up. The fact of the matter is that it is.