Original

There’s a big difference between low level creation and the Ultimate. Low level creators have the scientific ability to manipulate life, not create it. Not unlike what we see in our world today with genetic modification. There has already begun a debate about what rights the humanoid has?! The point here is that the human race IS an engineered race! ( I recommend Lloyd Pye’s lecture, EVERYTHING YOU KNOW IS WRONG) The engineers are of another race, and most definitely do not have terrestrial restraint. Humans were designed to be a work force, a slave race. A genetic synthesis of terrestrial and extra terrestrial instruction coding. Is there any wonder why slavery is so consistently prominent in recorded human history?

There are devastating consequences to this story. The designer race is still here on earth. And as far as the imagination can creep, it’s difficult to find a place where the master would ever consider the slave as anything but subservient. The inequality is inherent. Through force, manipulation, and control humanity resides in a metaphysical state of bondage as control patterns repeat themselves era after era after era. Gone is the primary resource reason for initially bringing about our engineered inception, however, the vampiric assumption of our vitality proceeds, and the imbalanced relationship of inequality remains. The effort required to maintain control of an increasingly threatened, exploited, and abused population is reaching a zenith. The impact of this effort has a remarkably negative effect on the planet herself, and it will kill almost all indigenous life. In the material sense the world has never seemed smaller, while in the spiritual/ eternal sense the stakes have never seemed higher.

At the risk of sounding philosophic, let’s say that there such a thing as reality. There is a planet earth, and most of us are on it. We have been on earth as a species, and we most likely are now. Here’s a story. The planet is unique. Earth has been teaming with life all over. Through it, with it, in it. The planet earth is alive, and intelligent life forms have, through the millennia, interacted with, and inhabited earth. Some of these living beings have realized earth’s potential, and have collected as much as possible for there own needs and desires. These beings are responsible for a genetic engineering practice which resulted in us, humanity. Humans are a reasonably self sufficient, reproductive species brought into existence to do work. Not unlike an inventor that creates a tool to increase productivity, so to is this human race created to be used. We’re here to work. A slave species whose energies have been considered to be property of their creative masters. Ownership which prevailed then, now, and presumably always. To the chagrin of the master class, however, we slaves have access to an eternal existence quality they no longer know. Ascension, bliss, freedom! An energy of joy which is the high reward promise of Creation Itself. The theft, and denial, of this experience, as well as it’s associated energies, has been the agenda of the slave class master rulers since inception. The perpetuation of the theft programming requires agents to be animated by antilife black field force energy. The story proceeds…

Sitting here listening to Dr. Andrew Wakefield talk about his film Vaxxed From Cover-up to Catastrophe, I am prompted. Dr. Wakefield, with all apparent conviction, lays out the details of a criminal medical cover-up in which members of industry and government knowingly and willingly supply and distribute vaccines that are tainted with toxins. These toxins are dangerous, and are capable of causing serious illness in the people injected with them. The scale and scope of the story hits home. It’s consistent with what I’ve come to believe about the assault from the sky, and through our food and water. There is an entity out there that wants the general population crippled sick! This story is about a huge compromise to the common good and well being. I can feel the fire of fury glowing temperature rise internal. God damn it!!!

Experience here suggests that right about now I lose it. Losing anything like discretion, judgement, stability, and effectiveness at expressing myself the way I  would like to. I mean we’re talking about getting pissed off and lashing out! So now what?

The recent reflection consideration of the possibility of staying calm comes back. Examples come to mind, and I notice that Wakefield is deliberate, measured, and calm. He very much seems full of conviction. Check with the conviction. Check with the internal attitude. A finding. A finding of a trust. It’s the trust that the information, awareness, and knowledge that’s being sought has an innocence about it. While not looking for personal gain argument leverage there has been an unfolding of information that has a real thread of coherence. This story is explaining itself, and it results in the exposure of awareness shared. There’s a purity to that, and it is not self created. Conviction is founded. Confidence grows.

We waited, the checkout line had stalled. The register guy was busy inputting numbers into the lottery machine, and the fellow at the front had a lot of numbers to play. The impatience in the line grew. Muttering discontent spread down the line. When it reached me I made my contribution. My standard lament of the vice of numbers games in the first place. I looked over my shoulder at the face of the dude behind me. He appeared undisturbed. It was like he would have been waiting in this spot regardless of how fast the line moved. He made no comment critical, only nodded his head with it’s tied gray hair.

When I looked back to the front of the waiting line I could not help but notice, through the all window store front, a blue SUV speeding into the parking lot. This guy is in a rush. The SUV turned to pull into an empty parking space right in front of the store. Immediate notice, “He’s not slowing down?!” Suddenly all hell breaks loose! Loud, loud, loud smashing, crashing, reviving, screeching, and screaming. It was not possible to differentiate who was screaming what from what was crashing screaming engine wheels SUV. The vehicle plowed into the store front, lurching, winding. It was sending shattering debris, racks, paper, bottles, glass, bars, and an ATM machine exploding from the impact. I don’t think anyone saw it coming. The sudden crush happened so fast it was impossible to get out of the way. Severely shoved and pushed back, the people were like a bundle of socks being crammed into an overstuffed drawer. As quickly as it started, it stopped.

The three people in front of me had been pushed back into me. I had felt the push pressure forcing me back until we stopped with my rear end in a cooler of sandwiches, and my shoulders pressing the shelf of produce. There was a sweetness fragrance overridden by a pungent burning oder, like burnt hair and plastic. Am I hurt, I wondered? Thinking for a moment in what seemed like a long echo of silence, I remembered seeing a kind of flash from out behind me. And what happened to the guy that had just been there?

The SUV had been stopped. It looked like mangled racks and shelves had stopped it about half way through the store. The driver was climbing out the window screaming, “That’s it! I’ve had it! I’ve fuckin’ had it! I’m not taking this shit anymore! Fuck all of you! Fuck everybody! I’m not taking it anymore!” The cashier was on the phone, And there was a big guy with a bloody shirt climbing over the broken pile to the drivers door. The big guy grabbed the driver. The two of them grappled for a moment. Then the big guy, who now seemed more enraged than the driver, had a strong hold on the maniac SUV driver. This big dude punched the driver flush in the face. His fist in he face made a squishing sound, and the driver’s body went weak. Then punch, punch after repeated punch! Squish, squish, sickening squish! It seemed like the was gonna kill him!

There was repeated exclamatory questioning. There was sobbing. There was quiet. I noticed that the fellow with the tied gray hair was limping over a twisted rack. There was a young man on the floor, sort of pinched in. He was saying to the gray haired guy, “Thank you. Thank you. If you hadn’t… I might have been… been…” His words trailed in tears. The man with the tied gray hair put his hand on the young guy’s shoulder and moved close to his ear. The young man looked up, stopped crying, and then displayed the appearance of calm relaxation that defied the circumstance. Bliss?!? Curiosity rose. What’s with this guy with the tied hair? I asked him, “How are you able to stay so calm?” He looked directly at me. At that moment the world fell silent. His eyes were alight, and he was bright himself while the periphery seemed to shade. I heard him say, “You know.”

The calculation proceeds in order to fulfill the individual lust, desire, and demand. Once convinced on the course of self interest, catastrophe builds. Built on the neglect of any common good. The hero was heard to say, “Never again will my ambition be frustrated!” He knew what it meant. The image of success relied on key timing, and object material appearance. The escort had to be it in full sex appeal, and the object of collective envy. All trappings needed to be of prestige. Only categorical success rates would do. The rates on accounts, the privilege, the ornaments, and the social climb arc of romantic arrival. Built on the carnal platform of pleasure, the end justifies the means.

He is reminded of the protagonist he can’t dismiss, and the insult to his ego image. He had felt humiliated and inferior in the face of the calm together agent of authenticity that overwhelmed him. Now angst rises to release the notion and framework of honor. At all costs the image promotion becomes paramount. His impatience to impress forces the issue into obsession. “Just wait!”

With no regard for the values of conscience a true insistence drive proceeds. The all important first person flexes it’s way into comprehension while ethics, morality, decency, and honor become adjustable. “I deserve better! I’m not doing anything anyone else wouldn’t do! I deserve to be happy, I’m a good person.” With that he allowed the virus to spread. His self created malware was now loose. The virus will be linked to his partner who will be discredited and removed in disgrace, leaving a vacancy that he is prepared to fill with the malware virus antidote at the ready. The frame job will be complete when his own heroic savior role will leap frog him into the power chair of corporate command.

The stage was set for fail safe fraud, and now the trigger. All that’s left to do is provide the theater response of innocent dismay, sorry surprise, and the best humble acceptance of promotion he could make believe. The coup will be successful, and he will take his rightful place up the food chain hierarchy of self righteousness. Coincidentally a parasitic nation breathed deeply and swelled with corruptive delight. Another soul sold.

Right there in front of me, I heard him say, “Anything is possible, however, there’s an issue is about having been exposed to generational subterfuge training. The degeneracy  of the mind program that’s left most of us with crippled imaginations. Not only can we not believe most of our everyday truth, we can’t conceive of it. There’s a disconnect from the essence witness of our dreams, and the contemplation practice meant to inspire and amaze. For the most part, we are clueless of the context of where our lives are, and how they’re unfolding. We’re lost.”

The room fell silent. Quiet in the way it gets immediately before an accident. A momentary pause as fate anticipates shift. Then… Clamor!! Crash!! Rush and sensory bombardment ensue. The internal turbulence which makes ration, judgement and patience impossible. It is near pure reaction. I can’t tell if the volume is coming from within or without. This degeneracy idea hits home. In a cinematic way I hear my voice. The voice is exclaiming, “What in god’s name are you talking about!? Where do you get this crap!? Lost!?”

What happened next is difficult to recall. I remember thinking that this dude was mocking me. The next thing I know is that I lunge at him, and seemingly hit air with no balance. I perceived and felt an intense threat. It was like a challenge to my baseline belief and security, putting my identity pride on the line. This damn ‘know it all’ stranger had triggered an automatic reflexive response of contempt and condemnation. It was a compromise conclusion. He was now the instant target of a building attack, “Friggin jerk!!! You get off on pissing people off insulting!?!?” I remember the feeling of falling, and the thought of grabbing. Desperation flooded, and a point had to be proved in prideful image. Reason no longer mattered or seemed relevant. I was falling alone, sensing loss, total loss, in full identity crisis. Panic?! My periphery began to darken. It was like looking through a tube at the protagonist. Hurry! Fury! The feeling fills in that all is lost. Humiliated in loss. Let down and forsaken. I’m lost, lost to all meaning. Fear. Hyper fear!

The next thing I know is the sensation of cold cool coming through the stinging feeling in my lips. I hear Carol say, “Have you lost your mind!? You just attacked a complete stranger! Your lucky you didn’t get arrested or really beat up.” I was confused, but I knew one thing for sure. It was something he had said which could not be reconciled. I’m going to restore my pride, and this jerk, and any like him, are going to pay.

A whisper                                                                                                                                 A rumble                                                                                                                                   It’s coming                                                                                                                                       It’s here                                                                                                                                     The perilous loss of moral                                                                                                     Confusion adjunct of time                                                                                                     Tingling apprehension                                                                                                                                           The liberation come waiting                                                                                                 Is mine

All signs point in the direction of the galactic story. Terrestrial history as part of a  continuing extra terrestrial story. Listening to the galactic historians impart their understanding and knowledge provides a much more coherent narrative than the limited ones which come from human history.

To begin to place myself effectively in a world where a massive collective insanity very much appears to be playing out in real time, there is a big need for an ability to accurately assess what’s really going on here. And what’s animating these agents in power to make them able to do so much incredible inhuman harm.

Yesterday was March 24 2016. It was a Thursday. Today is Good Friday 2016 for whatever that is worth. The number of planes over here yesterday which were dumping aerosol chemical cloud streams was astronomical. Constant overflight of dispersion stream after dispersion stream. I lost count early in the morning, but was aware of the persistent barrage all day. It means that the number of jets leaving chemical had to be in the hundreds. And this was viewed from just one spot! What madcap monster, or group of monsters, would know this practice to be in anyway okay?

So many unknowing innocent beings with authentic strong spirits to survive and thrive are exposed in this miasma of industrial strength creation. Their bodies enveloped in the maelstrom of environmental crisis and pollution. Born with the challenge of just getting on two feet he was born with a physical handicap. Learning to walk, balance, integrate, and assimilate. The effort increased by deformity, the result of a drug chemical side effect and real. The integration socially succeeds, and he has a chance. He begins pursuing a purposeful life as the result the internal spiritual, and the external loving support of others. It’s the persistent love and support of those that care for us that puts in a position to live in full. This caring nurturing is repaid by Nature’s own instinct to exist, live, and experience in full. Giving and taking, not unlike breathing, is a natural code. Thankfully surviving, he begins to repay the gift of giving that has been received. Challenge on top of practice in the effort to good survivable health. The heart! Another chemically created congenital hidden defect. By the Grace of Fate in store again the defect is repaired before it can do it’s worst. Again with the love and support of others. Now the education, evolution, and pursuit of living giving proceeds with an increase in resolve.

During this lifetime line of adversity prosperity there is an unknown, unrecognized, unexpected environmental building poison field miasma. The spirit seeks to soar and thrive in blossoming joy knowing transcendental help and health. Meanwhile, agencies of nearly pure sickness are at work. Engineering social planners plot, and execute murderous programs broadcasting impersonal, arbitrary sickness of handicap death. Exterminating the ones, like this one, that have overcome their own personal adversity prepared to thrive and then met with a poison plan meant for crisis of surrounding and extermination. The stories of the psychic agents for better and worse compel inquiry, while thoughts of mortal and immortal ethical justice shriek!

The power, the relevance, and the importance of myth. While seemingly trivial, and/or pointless to many, the myth has a major magnitude influence on procession. The myth’s effect on thoughts and attitudes can’t be overstated. Impacting a sort of superstitious belief which is manifest in the decisions we make and things that we do. The coherence of each story, and the truisms they describe directly influence cause and effect. What are our beliefs based on?

Some stories are casual. Does lightning strike the same place twice? Would one be killed by a penny falling from a tall building? Does alcohol keep you warm? The consistent actuality of these beliefs may or may not have serious eventual consequences.

What about these myths? Borrow your way out of dept. Human activity cannot alter earths natural balance or systems. Mainstream media is trustworthy. Governments have the populace’ best interest in mind. Private central banks are created to provide stability and promote common welfare. These are some standard ideas that are part of our collective consciousness, and any challenge of them results in widespread dissonance. They rise from a story which makes up our contemporary mythology. The coherence of these stories is lacking. The link to reality is unverifiable, and the resonance is discordenant. Recent inspection of these social system myths very much defy the reality they would like to describe. Contradiction better defines the reality suggested.

Orwell’s prophecy comes to mind. 1984 is coherent in the current context. If there was ever a time to seek the affirmative stories through history from antiquity to today it is now! Effective reality grasp is essential to finding an internal compass, and survival instinct before our entire consciousness is lured into the prison of virtuality, and systemic program capture. Hark the historian! From Howard Zinn to the Sumerian. We need a baseline to rely on. Help!!!