Thursday 1 October 2009

God, gods and creators.

Once again come into the garden with me along the rarely trod path. Look up at the trees tinged with gold, the sky touched with grey and all the quieter on the eye now. Breathe the fresh air with its slightly smokey memory.


Let’s sit on the grass under the holly tree and dream and imagine you are reading these words.


Let’s go on a journey.


Leave your screen behind and exit your home through the front door, where would you be? On the pavement, on a landing, on a balcony, under a canopy? Wherever you are let’s take the first mode of transport at hand. Bicycle, burro, automobile whatever, CCTV, spy sats and Big Hermaphrodite has picked us up. Lets go to the nearest mass transit station, ticket/ID card, rail, mono, light, subway through the barriers we go and BH has a fix on who we are and what we are up to. To the nearest international airport and when we get there what do we find? The BH fisting and search fest.


This is the most obvious manifestation of the lie. Taking off your shoes, getting body cavities probed, removing all metal objects and having your entire body go see through. This is a ritual, Pavlovian style, and is structured to get you ready for the camps. It’s supposed to be about GWOT; well if the CIA/MI6 would just stop it then we’d be fine. Can anyone name a single “terrorist” incident that didn’t have CIA/MI6 and affiliates written all over it? Well? Just like the good old days when those lads turned Europe into a slave camp they know who’s got the gold fillings and the titanium hips. They’ll come for the metal soon enough. The real terrorists go through diplomatic channels of course (Venetian), and BH has you tagged and bagged.


Then into duty free perhaps or not if you are domestic. Well this flight is definitely international so let’s get some fags and booze and a local trinket to show the aliens.


We’ll go first class of course. We taxi, stop and then the Captain punches it, my second least favourite part of the whole process. Acceleration then rotation. We go up and steerage goes down. We hang on at an unfeasible angle as the big fans chop and suck two unending tubes out of the atmosphere to keep the noise footprint down.


Me and you, we’re on a special flight, a glass of champers in one hand and canapé in the other, we continue accelerating higher and higher never stopping. The aircraft dissolves and we recline, sip and enjoy the ride. Up high above the atmosphere there is no scattered radiation, when out of earth shine there is just black and light. We continue outward away from the plane of our solar system, faster and faster. We depart our part of the galactic spiral arm and we’ve long since breached the mental prison that is C. C is a falsity designed to limit our horizons just like the flat earth belief that kept us near to shore.


We’ve gone so far and travelled so fast that we’ve breached the theoretical boundary of our universe and what are we? We are suprareal; we don’t exist in space time. We can see it all, everything that is, everything that was, everything that will be, just like Tesla in March 1895. We can supersede reality. We are not alone though.


Is this Jungian, is this the universal mind, universal soul? The answer is hidden of course but we live on the edge, the secrets are out, no longer contained. We are introverted, our gaze deliberately turned down and inward. Stand and stare at affinity. The reality we experience is a product of our mind. I find it strange to be wrighting these words. I am empirical and logical and yet the true answer is spiritual. That’s the battle we face a battle to destroy our spirituality, for if we loose that we loose our contact with ourselves.


Transhumanism which you’ve no doubt seen me bang on about needs a false spiritual dimension. A new religion for the New Man needs to be created again. TPTB are currently implanting the meme using such tools as Creationism in schools and so called counter NWO programming as “ZETGEIST” to groom us.


What exactly does this mean? As always TPTB have several things in play to turn us in this direction. Once it is felt that we have swallowed enough of our medicine several things will be allowed to appear in the herd attention space. Couched in purest Hegelian it could even encourage “holy” wars again. The so called clash of civilisations is about changing two branches of monotheism for the convenience of a third. When it is “revealed” that we are in fact created by a long gone high culture, that we are nothing but inhabited carbon based life forms, this is the New Man’s religious experience in the oligarchy. A return to the Bronze Age, to NOAHide.


This is denial of spirituality and the theft of life for the mass of humanity. Well nothing new there when it comes to the NOAHide clowns. God, gods and creators. They always operate at the lowest level, always have always will. They conflate all three levels into the creator level where the psychopathic clowns set about the murder of human beings on a massive and evil scale.


Destroying memory, destroying spirituality. They decided to whack Celtic Christianity, or so they thought, and a great deal of Irish history since the synod of Whitby is explained by this hit, and they are still trying to take the Irish down to this day.


So here we are unbounded by reality and not alone. Who, what, when, what if is with us? How many are they, the same or different. We aren’t the first humans to be with them.


The entities whatever they appear to be are a damn site more spiritual than NOAHide and can be accessed by humanity at a personal level only if you are not full of psychopathy.


Are they gods? Who knows but I suspect that aspects of their existence are with us at all times if only we would remove ourselves from our eyes.



Back in the garden the birds sing a twilight song and we move into a new age. A new age where metal doesn’t flow and rock is shaped like putty. Is this age to our benefit or to their benefit? Judging by how scared they are of us it is likely that we will return to how we were before the trauma.


Heads up.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Voyoy cheeky, leave us a deadletteredroped..