The Deluded Servants of Heartless Masters

Oh, I'm so bored with this topic. I don't know if it's my detoxified brain or my yoga-fied body, but I find it hard to summon up any enthusiasm for the whole thing. Somehow it's all turned into homework. So why don't I just kill the comedy hobby-horse I've been on up until now and get it over and done with?

There aren't two media masters - there's only one, and he's Jewish. And he's Satanist! He's both and he's neither. He's the wrong end of the continuum. He is that creature that has most perfectly embraced fear and desire. He is the anti-buddha. He is me uber alles. He is if not me, none.


In much the same way that there's not much to be gained in describing the Buddha in terms of whatever he was before - 'Well, he was from Kosala, you know' - I think the same follows for our anti-buddhas. Whatever they once were long ago, they are no longer. Any descriptions that might apply would be merely nominal and bring as much confusion as clarity. Since truth must be sacrificed at the altar of their own greatness, there can be no description of them that will make clear cut sense. They are whatever works.

So who are the Jews? And what are the Satanists? I'm going to call them servants, dupes, and coat-tail riders, with each imagining themselves as the favoured child. And a case could be made supporting the rightness of that thought. But it would be equally true to say that they're just fodder to be used up as suits their uber-alles masters. Viewed from this angle these two sects of the death cult have more in common with each other than they know. It's arguable that the greatest difference between them is the fact that one is publicly acknowledged and the other is regularly disappeared from the media and exists only as an apocryphal entity, ie. in the madder works of fiction.

---

As the acknowledged servants, the Jews get to wallow in a public orgy of self-impressed self-congratulation. Absurdly, if it weren't for them (says they) we'd have no culture, art, or music, no rights or freedoms, no insert_thing_worth_having_here. It's arrant nonsense of course but the Jews, like their once-were-Jewish masters, have made lying an art-form, not least of all to themselves. Flatter them and they'll believe you. And tell them that everyone wants to kill them out of envy, and they'll believe that too.


Who knows if there's a god who grooves on human sacrifice? Not me. But anyone who's hung out at the occult section of Rigorous Intuition would have to concede that spooky preternatural shit does go on. Sacrifices are made and all in a quest for 'magick'. But as far as I can tell, none of it ever seems to count for much. Certainly in terms of holocaust = sacrifice, you'd have to ask, where's the magick in amongst that event? There, blood-lusting god or no, and 6,000,000 dead or no - I don't know that it makes much difference. All that counts is that the world believes that that's what happened and a humongous evil juju is spawned regardless. Don't argue - 6M or 300K, a brand new nation appeared before our very eyes and another was disappeared. David Copperfield eat your heart out. Magick? Who needs it?

And now it looks like Israel's time is over. Clearly there's no real-world logic to it anymore, for mine its destruction is inevitable. It was a means to an end and soon it too will be sacrificed - the Holocaust as a sacrifice for Israel, and Israel as a sacrifice for world control. Dig it - like Elvis Presley or Michael Jackson, Israel is worth more dead than alive. And it's not like the Rothschilds and their very good friends will miss the place. Did they ever go there? Even for a visit? God knows they never lived there. And who could shed a tear for those wild-hair-up-their-arse Haredim anyway? The worst people on the planet!


A tuppence for sacrifice as an occult event (ie. hidden with no one knowing it took place). Imagine if a sacrifice of 6,000,000 was actually made, but all done on the hush-hush with no one knowing at all: would there be any power in that? How would it change the world if no one knew? Perhaps that's who the Jews are: a people to be publicly sacrificed over and over. And given that the power of the sacrifice lays in it's public perception, then of course the people being sacrificed must be perceived as the greatest who ever lived. More power to the publicity juju!

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The Jews' death cult twin however, the unacknowledged Satanists, get no such blaze of glory. Or not in any useful fashion that is. As we've seen over at Pseudo Occult Media the Satanist / mind-control crowd get a lot of airtime. But madly they get airtime in inverse proportion to the number of people who get the gag. Everything they put to air is effectively an in-joke whooshing over the heads of just about everyone. Fantastic, but what's the point? Who are these in-jokes for? Is it really for us as mug-punters with the symbolism functioning as some kind of voodoo incantation for the subconscious? Somehow I don't think so. I've been seeing butterfly images and black and white checks for as long as I can remember and as far as I know, nothing happened. Besides which, wouldn't the residents of monarch butterfly migration town, Pacific Grove, have long since wigged out?


Perhaps the in-jokes are for the benefit of the ruling elite, like some kind of upper-class circle jerk / mutual wankfest? If so, it's a curious sort of benefit - a vast audience watching and not one of them understanding what they're seeing. Ha! It's the Illuminati as shy exhibitionists - they like getting on the fiddle in public with everybody watching but only if none of them can actually tell what's going on.

Aside from that, do the crowned heads of Europe watch all those idiot low-brow TV shows? Really? Somehow I have that pegged as unlikely. It's like that scene in Robert Altman's Gosford Park: as the Duchess says to the American producer, who refuses to say how his movie ends because he doesn't want to spoil it for them, "Oh, but none of us are going to see it."


So, if it's not there for us as mug-punters, and it's not there for the lah-di-dah pointy end of the pyramid, then there's no one left but the zombified slaves themselves. Certainly that would have utility: whatever channel the zombies flip to they'll be confronted by yet more evidence that there's nowhere to run. Given the time and money that goes into creating mind-control slaves, in no way should that be viewed as excessive or unlikely.

And hats off to that, but what sort of expression of power is it? To imagine that the Illuminati would revel in a constant reminder of what keeps their zombies in line, is to imagine that the Romans would have revelled in 6000 crucified slaves lining the Appian Way. Would they have had an al fresco party surrounded by corpses, three cheers for us, huzzah huzzah? Or would it somehow have been a bit too grisly and depressing? And between that and the rose-petal strewn parades through the Forum that the acknowledged Jews are permitted to give themselves, one of them could be more accurately defined as a variation of calculated insult. If all those symbols are an expression of power, they seem to be less for the Satanist / mind-control mob than they are at them, if you can dig it.


Not forgetting of course that if you were to sit down and design a power structure that was most likely to be hijacked and led around like a prize bull with a magic blackmail ring in its nose, you couldn't improve upon one that pivots on paedophilia and Satanist human sacrifice, could you? Sure enough, the paedophocracy was always going to belong to someone else, and it does.

---

But who gives a shit? Not me! Like it matters what stripe an anti-buddha is. To argue the point would be vaguely equivalent to disagreeing over whose Satan is worst, that of the Jews, Christians, or Muslims? Huh? Who cares?


And the witless wannabes who serve those anti-buddhas? Whether it's the dispensable and unacknowledged bastard son who's never seen the light of day and is unable to see past his nose to the fingers that lead him, or the golden headed child who (unaware that it's just a cheap wig) lifts his head ever higher to receive his own adulation and otherwise accommodate the patiently waiting blade - like anyone would shed a tear for the either of them.

Obama Obama Obama

Those whacky Scandinavians! What a laugh - Barak Obama as winner of the Nobel Peace Prize! Ha ha ha ha, champagne comedy! Actually knowing what I know of those Nordic midnight sunbathers as being the hardest drinkers on the planet, perhaps we'll call it 'vodka comedy'. That works doesn't it? Absolut-ly. And it's not as if you can blame them - what with the sun disappearing for months on end, and nothing for it but to go mad or get drunk, they not unreasonably choose the latter. And with drunks, all you can ever hope for is that they be funny drunks. Well, those Nobel guys crack me up. Skol!


Obama, Obama, Obama - what are we to make of this cove? He's a weird cat and no mistake. Whilst it's slowly wearing off now, the greatest part of the voter's image of him was less about who he was, than who he wasn't. Clearly he wasn't George Bush. Or to put it another way, he wasn't a smirking snuff-movie aficionado, and obvious with it. He also wasn't a Southern good ol' boy, and nor was he an uneducated git who could barely string two sentences together. Unlike the ex-cokehead Bush, Obama can deliver his platitudes unmangled - which really helps, because platitudes are a tough gig at the best of times.

And then there's the fact that Bush is American royalty, which is to say he comes from a long line of criminals, war-profiteers, spooks, and paedophiles. He is connected up the wazoo, ha ha ha. Obama on the other hand, ain't. He has no connections, he hasn't got the goods on anyone, he has no one's balls in his pocket, no one owes him, and to put it bluntly, he has no power base. Okay so how did he get to be president? Seriously? Well, he got to be president because other truly powerful people decided he was a sock puppet whose time had come. And as we all know, the best damn sock puppets are mind-control sock-puppets.


Was Bush a mind-control drone? He was royalty sure, but somehow I wonder if that would mean a lot amongst the satanist/mind-control/paedophocracy crowd. These people will sacrifice their own children you know. They're so hell bent and vicious they don't really require a child to be red-headed, or a stepchild, to treat them that way. And yep, their own kids included.

From what I've read of the mind-control world, there were those who were complete slaves and there were those who were complete masters. And then there's the idiot son. Was he slave or master? Frankly I can see a case for both. He was certainly cruel enough: I'm thinking he'd have made a great torturer. And given that every other president from Kennedy onwards was on the receiving end of 'presidential models', a la Brice Taylor (Susan Ford), I doubt that Dubya was any different.

But he was different. Did we ever see another president do this? Or this? Am I the only person who wanted to rap on his skull and ask if anyone's home? Somehow I suspect that people tinkered with the idiot son's brain, and not particularly successfully either. Not that you can blame them with his ten years spent wandering in a cocaine wilderness and his brain fried to a walnut.


What if I said the idiot son was a sort of 'hybrid model' filling in until a truly superior class of mind control slave was arrived at? Given the reality of mind-control, and given the ambition of those behind it, I figure it's just a matter of time until every president, indeed every world leader, is a mind-control zero who does whatever the fuck they're told.

And really well, of course. They'll be brilliant! They'll be as handsome as Butch and Sundance rolled into one. They'll have the wit of Noel Coward, the everyman appeal of Bruce Willis, and the gravitas of Dr Kildare. They'll play the guitar like Segovia, sing like Caruso, and dance like Gene Kelly. They will be gods of love that women will all desire and men will all turn gay for. They will be bigger than Jesus Christ.

And they'll do...
whatever...
the fuck...
they're told.


Okay, so Obama ain't quite that shining all-things-to-all-men, but he's a pretty fair approximation of it. And I haven't the least doubt that he fulfils that last little prosaic quatrain. Honestly, is there anything the owners of Israel want that he won't give to them? I can't think of anything. So far he's bombed Pakistan I forget how many times, and last time I checked that was considered the 'supreme war crime'. Sure enough everything underneath that - letting the AIPAC trial die unmourned, rolling over on Israel's illegal settlements, and otherwise handing trillions to the bankers and bankrupting the US - qualifies as nothing special. Otherwise what will he stick up for? Gays in the military! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha... oh man... between the drunken Swedes and the death cult, it's harder to know who's funnier.

Between the impossibility of Obama as a no power-base, come-from-nowhere wunderkind (who in his brief climb to power somehow became completely corrupted), and the inevitability of someone just like him as a mind-control drone, I figure the latter makes waaay more sense. And rather than laboriously go through everything he's ever done looking for examples of him as mind-controllee, why not just do the Dutch Auction thing and ask, When has he ever departed from the Rothschild line? (And citing the settlements shadow-play is not permitted - pretending to stand up to Israel has been going on since Truman). And so! Under the timeless rubric of 'if you've got the game you may as well have the name' I'm going to call him.


And here's a question: Does Obama know? And further: If he's a zombie, wouldn't his wife be too? And then there's the kids...

Mind Control - The Series

I, the undersigned,

Do hereby agree to produce and screen the following described TV series 'Mind Control' in return for paying the author, nobody, enough money to, a) fund a large property in the country where he can grow organic food and build a village for right-thinking people which shall be called 'Selflessness', and, b) further fund a charity, created by the author, nobody, to aid the victims of mind-control experiments.*

I further agree that this series will accord with the following descriptions and conditions -

1) Each episode begins with a montage of MKULTRA experiments and the following voice-over - "Since WWII the CIA and the US military has been conducting a mind control program against the American people. In league with satanists and paedophiles, they have sought to corrupt government at every level and are wicked beyond description. Two people, Doctor George Gilray and his spiritual partner, Diana Devere, seek to tear down this secret government and bring about world enlightenment in the process."

2) The pilot movie-length episode starts with Dr Gilray in his lab in a non-descript NASA facility. He is typing in a computer - "Analysis of brain wave data of subject dosed with 10mg of toluphenobarb and subjected to 'blue spectrum' alpha waves..." Cut to close up of the military recruit subject's mindless face as the noise of typing continues. The subject leaves - enter his next subject, a female who, according to her clipboard, has been administered LSD41. 'What the hell is that?' says Gilray. He proceeds to administer blue spectrum alpha waves to the catatonic woman.

When it is finished she says, "Hello Dr. Gilray. Don't be alarmed, I am awake. My name is Diana and you need to listen to me carefully now..." Over a series of flashbacks, she then explains to Gilray the nightmarish experiments and torture she has been subjected to for the purpose of producing mind control slaves. He is astounded. She tells Gilray that his role has been unwitting, as has his discovery that LSD41, in combination with blue alpha, can overturn the entire process and restore all memory. Diana states that she knows all this now because her many fractured 'alters' are united. Not only is she one within herself but she is one with the universe. She is fully awake.

Gilray is in awe of her and since he too is now in danger, agrees to help her escape the facility. They are seen and a chase ensues. After casting off their pursuers, they plan on how to find the formula for LSD41 so that they might liberate more mind control subjects and bring down the satanist paedophile cabal who run the whole thing. To find the drug they must break into another military facility. They do so and lock themselves into the lab overnight.

Here they discover a morgue-like room full of humans on life support. One of them is a clone of Gilray. It was made from a DNA sample of his from seventeen years earlier. Diana tells Gilray that physically it is identical to him but she sees its brain and it is perfectly blank apart from the ability to breathe. All of the bodies are the same and possess neither mind nor soul nor have any aura. "They are unnatural travesties of nature made by perverse self-worshippers," says Diana. Gilray wonders how she can know this. She declares that she is different now and demonstrates to Gilray what she is capable of by possessing the mindless bodies and making them all sit up and look at him. She apologises for spooking him out and says, "I am really very powerful now. I can feel it."

They leave to look for the drug formula. They do not find it apart from a single dose left in a drawer. They both agree Gilray should take the treatment. He too awakes but not to the level of Diana who, as part of her abuse, was smashed into dozens of MPD/DID alters and subsequently has multiplied powers. He now perceives her nearly goddess-like nature, a tiny part of which has transferred to him and which will forever connect them. They make love.

In the morning they are discovered and forced to escape through the 'morgue'. Here Diana animates the bodies to assist them in their escape. As they flee in a car with Gilray's clone in the back seat the facility explodes behind them. Adventures and chases follow, each trumping the other until they/we realise that enormous forces (the entire US military, CIA, FBI, local police everywhere, as well as sundry MIL mercenaries) are trying to kill them. Hiding out in an old warehouse they realise that the only way for them to shake off their pursuers is if they are dead.

They decide to publicly immolate themselves in front of the headquarters of the CIA. This will make their deaths indisputable and also shine a spotlight on the villains. The key to the plan consists of Gilray's mindless DNA match (animated by Diana) being burned in his place. Diana argues that yes, she has no clone, but the mission is too important and that if only one of them survives to carry on it's better than nothing. Gilray, full of awe and love for her tearfully agrees.

An A-team sequence follows in which our heroes build websites and place cameras and laptops at the location they've selected. In amongst this we see various examples of Diana using her extraordinary powers to assist George: seeing the future thus enabling them to avoid government agents; possessing and bamboozling people; telepathically guiding him through buildings he has never been in etc. Finally everything is arranged and Gilray and Diana enter the plaza. As the music swells we see the spectacularly beautiful slo-mo sequence of our two lovers burning. They are perfectly serene. Cut to Gilray watching from a distance, shattered at the loss of his goddess. He drives away, desperately evading the security forces who start arriving.

At the Mexican beachside shack that comprises their meeting point, Gilray checks to see the internet reaction to the footage he uploaded and finds small numbers and all of them trolls. He is very disheartened and in a montage of all that has gone before he breaks down and calls out to Diana. She appears to him and explains that she is not dead. Her energy was too great and that when she burned it was only her body that was destroyed. She loves Gilray in a way he will never truly understand and will always be there for him. Together, as body and spirit, they will fight the cabal, rescue the victims, and otherwise bring truth and enlightenment. Turning, she shows him the internet hit counter spinning off the dial as the truth of Mind Control goes exponential. The final shot is of Diana as she dances in slo-mo through the water's edge splashing Gilray as he stands there his face wreathed in smiles.

3) Each following weekly episode will feature the pair as they pursue the formula for LSD41, occasionally coming across some and administering it to other mind-control victims thus making new and exotically powered allies, and all the while variously hiding from, battling with, or fleeing the paedophocracy. They find themselves in various situations: amongst a small-town ring of satanists; in the White House with the Vice President and a reverse version of 'the most dangerous game'; bringing down a Michael Aquino/military childcare ring; doing an inside-out 'Get Shorty' featuring the unmasking of a Laurel Canyon-style psy-op; breaking into a video production facility with links to international child abduction; a white witch/black witch battle with Diana tangling with another preternaturally powerful mind control subject (her evil twin sister, ha!) etc. etc.

4) The foreground action of our heroes will take place against the constant backdrop of social upheaval brought on by our pair's internet revelations, with each strand plotting a rising arc of frequency and intensity. Constant strands: service personnel and police variously deserting or forming themselves into militia; disillusioned people explaining what they participated in, the wrongness of it, and why they are now filled with hope; background televisions constantly featuring examples of local media outlets being retaken by people's councils; the collapse of the old order of corruption with the rolling up of paedophile and satanist networks, the throwing down of banks, and the establishment of various ad hoc people's councils. Constant phrases: time of revelation (specifically in terms of things being revealed); lack of fear or desire; selflessness; anti-buddhas; black paragons of selfishness. (Ha ha ha, a little nobody buzz-word checklist there. And Les Visible, sure).

Against this constant decline in the power of those pursuing our heroes, their need for anonymity will likewise fall away and they will slowly become known and revered by more and more people. Their immolation was a circular twofer: it rendered them invisible and thus freed them from government depredations, but also brought about the government's destruction with their invisibility becoming unnecessary.

5) The character of George Gilray is to be played by James McEvoy. Gilray's pre-awake character is somewhat uncertain and confused. Afterwards he is broadly more self-possessed. If he could give off a beatific vibe, a la Jim Caviezel, that would be really marvellous. Infrequently Gilray will perform martial arts. He is clearly a variety of martial arts practitioner but this is never really explained apart from the fact that he is loath to employ it. (NB. Virtually all violence is committed on the part of the wicked. Our hero's use of violence will precisely resemble that of Ashitaka in Princess Mononoke).

The character of Diana Devere is to be played by Milla Jovovich. She is Joan of Arc meets the Buddha, except in flashbacks where she is perfectly human. Awake, she is always serene. Diana as goddess will be distinguished from human Diana by way of a post-production glow/aura/transparency. Further effects will be required for the occasional use of Diana-cam, wherein everything is seen by way of auras. To all intents and purposes goddess Diana is as precisely corporeal or as ethereal as she wishes - whatever suits.

This show is not sexy. Together the lovers are actually quite chaste since neither is possessed of desire. The two will always behave naturally: laughs, kisses, caresses. They will be perfectly familiar with, and confident of each other, free of insecurities or niggles. Hmm... perhaps a scene that opens with Gilray lying on a bed laughing. A spirit-like Diana, who had been occupying his body, arises out of him, "Did you enjoy that?" Gilray, still smiling, says that when she occupies him and meditates like that, it's extraordinary, "It leaves me at a loss for words. It beats everything. My goddess, I thank you," giggling and post-coital conversation follows.

6) The series will run for three seasons. Season 1 will see our heroes being constantly pursued by a still functioning paedophocracy. Amongst those who are waking up to the paedophocracy, discussions of government wickedness are conducted at a small scale. Season 2 will involve the maximum degree of social disorder with revelations of hitherto hidden wickedness becoming ever greater. Our heroes will no longer be quite so alone or anonymous, receiving constant help from various allies. Season 3 will see truth gaining the ascendency with the paedophocracy reduced to private warlord armies, bandit gangs, and the fearful hoping to evade detection. Each will be uncovered and dealt with, with the final climax seeing the burning of both the Fed and Bohemian Grove, the signing of a new constitution, and the popular election of George Gilray as chairman to the people's council governing the United States.

7) The pilot will be directed by the author nobody. The soundtrack will be by Hisaishi Jo and The Pixies. Apart from the two leads, each week will feature a heavyweight guest star: Zhang Ziyi, Jim Broadbent, Jeanette Garofolo, Warren Oates, Beat Takeshi, Naomi Harris, Mads Mikkelsen, and Les Visible as himself, ha ha.

8) All final creative say will rest solely with the author, nobody. He may pull the plug at any time for any reason he thinks appropriate. The characters, plots, and themes that comprise Mind Control, particularly the key characters of Dr. George Gilray and Diana Devere, will remain the sole property of the author, nobody.

The point of the exercise is not to get rich but to tell the truth. This series, Mind Control, is not more of the same. It is not mindless fodder to make people stupid and otherwise fill in the gaps between commercials. If we get this right we can change the world. Should I, the undersigned, turn out to be just another self-impressed liar and git (as according to the opinion of the author, nobody) I agree to submit to either: surrendering a pound of flesh (blood included) from whichever part of my body the author, nobody, cares to name, or; handing over all my worldly possessions and living in complete penury for the rest of my life, whichever is the most amusing.

Take it or leave it.

*not forgetting of course that the author, nobody, could be talked into doing it for food and accommodation if it was for real, ha ha.

signed,

______________________________

Henry K and the Council

The true star of Susan Ford's (Brice Taylor's) Thanks For The Memories is Henry Kissinger. Was there ever a fellow more deserving of assassination than Henry Kissinger? Hmm... there's a piece in that - 'People who deserve to be assassinated, inexplicably haven't been, and what that means'. Al Qaeda? Ha! Otherwise, for anyone who's ever wondered at the Nobel Peace Prize, no need to go any further than the fact that Henry Kissinger got one. It's a sort of unfunny Swedish Monty Python I'm thinking.


In Thanks For The Memories, Henry Kissinger is partners with Bob Hope in 'utilising' Susan Ford. Whilst that team-up may seem absurd, it actually makes perfect sense. All one has to do is plug this into Laurel Canyon with its wider implications re the significance of the entertainment industry, and the whole thing stands to reason. Regardless, the partnership of Hope and Kissinger is clearly an unequal one.

The closest analogy I came can come at for this inequality is one based on computers - imagine Susan Ford is a laptop that Bob Hope uses to find porn. He lends the laptop to all of his buddies and they likewise go nuts looking up variations of www.everyperversionknowntoman.com. The laptop always comes back to Kissinger who, unbeknownst to everyone, is systems admin super-user. What with having installed a keystroke monitor, and otherwise having full access to each of their caches, there's nothing Kissinger doesn't know about every sordid detail of their lives. Anyone who's ever run a computer system and had super-user privileges knows precisely what this means. Privilege equals knowledge and knowledge equals power.


Kissinger, not unlike Frank Zappa of Laurel Canyon, never participates in the vices he urges upon others. In spite of the fact that he was super-user and thus free to go nuts, Kissinger never availed himself of, nor even expressed an interest in, Ford's unrivalled charms. Square this with his carefully cultivated, albeit unlikely, image as debonair lady-killer. There's something not right with that picture but I don't know what it is. Otherwise it occurs to me that far more is to be concluded from those who didn't sample Susan Ford's earthly delights, than from those who did. With Ford as 'trap' anyone who falls into her qualifies as variation of 'prey'. Significantly, only Kissinger and the Rockefeller black sheep, John D Rockefeller, choose not to avail themselves of Ford's programmed easy virtue.

And then there's the council. Ford unambiguously states that Kissinger is their number one servant. Since Ford never states precisely who is on the council it's conceivable that Kissinger might not be a servant so much as a member. Whilst it pays to turn the puzzle pieces this way and that to see if greater sense might not be made of them, in this case I dismiss the possibility of Kissinger as a council member. This would posit the council as some variety of meritocracy, frankly an absurd idea. Aristocracies do not function on meritocratic principles - an obvious contradiction in terms. Their servants, absolutely: regardless of birth, talent and loyalty will be utilised. Amongst their aristocratic selves there will be a meritocracy of sorts but only from within their own ranks. Were it any other way, blood-lines might be displaced. And then where would the aristocracy be?


So who is the council? In his foreword, the author of Project Monarch, Ron Patton, discusses Adam Weishaupt being commissioned by the Rothschilds to unite various occultic organisations under the single banner of the Illuminati. Curiously, in spite of this organisation being founded and sponsored by the Rothschilds, they never get a second mention. Ford herself never discusses the Illuminati, nor the Rothschilds, nor even utters the word 'Jewish', apart from in the most innocuous circumstances. All Jewish people in this book are only incidentally so - they are bit players, innocent bystanders, or victims. And Henry Kissinger? Astoundingly Ford's book never once connects the words 'Kissinger' and 'Jewish'. Were you to read this book not knowing that Kissinger was Jewish you'd arrive at the end of it none the wiser.

But never mind Ron Patton, who does Susan Ford say the council are? She never names names and had she done so I'd view it as a black mark against her credibility. The Council she describes wouldn't be much chop if they went about introducing themselves to the help, would they? But that aside, Ford is free to hypothesize. The Council are Freemasons, she declares. Hmm... Freemasons eh? As a fellow not given to pursuing impossible riddles, I've never bothered attempting to undo the Gordian knot of the Illuminati/Freemason connection. I understand their original purpose as a professional guild. I also understand them acting as a counterweight to the ancient centralised control of Rome (this in the time prior to Adam Weishaupt). However I find their evolution into globe-spanning rulers of everything falls apart for want of coherency. What precisely are the ties that bind? Apart from the Rothschilds as sponsors, that is?


Besides that, the book tends to be at odds with its own assertion of Masonic control. Surely Prince Philip is a thirty-three degree mason? God knows how many times I've heard it asserted that the English crown, by way of its masonic/Illuminati influence, is the global big kahuna in the new world order. Square that with Ford's own recounting of her meeting with Prince Philip, and his diffident surprise and delight at being offered her singular talents. With Ford as the nexus, between Philip and Kissinger only one of them has super-user privileges, and it ain't Phil. The logic here is unmissable - Prince Philip, however high he might be in the Freemasons, is subject to Kissinger, and Kissinger is subject to the council. Not forgetting that Kissinger is Jewish and the Freemasons' transformation into internationalist Illuminati was brought about under the auspices of the Rothschilds. Honestly, Freemasons?

The other significant aspect of the Council in this regard is its ultimacy. According to Ford, there is nothing above the Council, and simple reason tells us that nor could there be. In reading of her descriptions of Council: their meetings, their communications, and their extraordinary secrecy, there is no way she's describing lieutenants. These people she describes are 'it'. In the big game of Risk they're not so much players as the writers of the rules. Given that this is the case, and given that fact that wealth equals power, we can safely declare that they are the richest people in the world. In either wealth or power, were anyone to even begin to threaten them they would have to be destroyed. Forget Sam Walton, forget Warren Buffet, forget Bill Gates, and all those other people topping the 100 richest list - ain't none of them in the running. And yep, even the Rockefellers ain't in this picture. Ford categorically states that the Rockefellers are subject to the Council. The only kind of 'Rich' that could have all these bazillionaires subject to it is that variety of rich that comes with ownership of the Fed and the international Reserve system. And the IMF. And the World Bank.


Thinking about it - the old chestnut about a business being 'a licence to print money' only possesses charm when it's not literally true. When it is literally true, the appeal of endless amounts of money becomes almost silly. It's like the child's daydream of owning a chocolate factory. A child cannot conceive that an owner of such a factory might view the product with something other than a desire to spend all day eating it. And so it is with money. Possessing a licence to print money renders the idea of a Scrooge McDuck-like accumulation of wealth as superfluous to the point of idiotic. Clearly ownership of the Reserve banking system is not about being rich. Rather the exercise becomes one of the prevention of others from achieving the same. It's about power, and that driven by a combination of hubris and a hubristic sense of immortality. Or are they the same thing? Probably.

With all that aside, let's also dismiss some other red-herrings. Ford's book is rife with satanism. Her entry point into the world of the council seems to be entirely satanistic. Interestingly Ford herself views the topic with disdain. As she later states, this disdain is shared by all those higher in the power structure. Marx's phrase about religion being 'the opiate of the masses' is ordinarily used as a dismissal, and further as a reason for Communism's smashing of religions. But viewed from another angle, ie. that of opiates/drugs as being a useful means of control, it could just as easily be an argument leading, not so much to smashing, but to co-option. In fact the latter makes far more sense than the former - why fight a thing when you could put it to work for you? Thus satanism makes far more sense as the beast being whipped than it does as the whip-hand itself, if you can dig it.



Likewise, the Roman Catholic church appears in the book and yet never in any impressive fashion. All early mentions pivot on it as part of the mechanism of the ritualistic abuse that goes into creating a MPD/DID slave. Small potatoes. Later, Ford describes putting on a quasi-religious dog and pony shows to impress the Vatican heirarchy, Pope included. Okay, I think we can safely declare a rule - Anyone on the receiving end of one of Ford's shows is not in the Council.

Going sideways now, how might we view other such religions and religiously driven 'isms'? In much the same way that Karl Marx was equally dismissive of all religions, do we imagine that the banking families of the Council would somehow get all weak-kneed for Judaism? Somehow I doubt it. Beyond Judaism is Zionism and its founding of Israel. The Rothschilds display their enthusiasm for this grand effort by living elsewhere. Sure they founded Israel, with Rothschild putting his John Hancock on the Balfour Declaration, but they founded the Illuminati too. If it's sensible to view the Illuminati as a vehicle for Rothschild co-option and control, why not view Zionism and Israel in the same fashion? It makes as much sense viewed in this fashion as any other - hell, more so. Frankly I expect that the members of the Council would hold Judaism per se in the same contempt as they'd hold for all religions - a bauble for the hoi polloi. That's not to say that it doesn't possess a variety of 'favourite' status: but only that of a tribe historically given to being loyal servants. Besides, a precise demonstration of the value of the Jewish people was given during the haggling that took place during the time of the National Socialists in Germany with Jews in great numbers being entirely expendable.


Back to the red herrings, at no time does Ford mention the nationality of those on the Council, nor does it even seem to enter into the picture. In this vein, what are we to make of the following quote (vaguely attributed to the Council) that describes the reasons for bringing Clinton down, "A cornerstone will fall, and further destabilize the American people. First Nixon, now Clinton, thus the people will lose faith in their leaders and the democratic way of life. So they will want to change it and will lean toward World Order." Hmm... "the American people" eh? Strange way for an American to describe one's own. Knowing what I know of Americans, I have to admit having trouble attributing this to any American mouth.

I know that the 'American Dream' is a myth but that doesn't mean it's not without power. I cannot believe that a person who grew up in the United States (in something other than a closet) would utter such a thing. Not forgetting of course that the New World Order is not a New American Order. With the century just ended being described unabashedly as 'The American Century' do we think that Americans would now come over all coy and worry that in naming the world order after themselves, other people might think they have swell heads? Ha ha ha ha, Americans have no such shortcomings. Americans are American to their bootstraps. They're Americans first and Internationalists second. I will never buy an American as having no attachment to his country, mythical or otherwise. The quote above could only come from a true Internationalist, someone who spent the vast majority of their life not living in the US. So! Let's also strike the CIA, the old money American ruling class, and any other significant US institution (that's not currently headed by a dual-citizen Israeli).


For mine, it seems all roads lead to the Rothschilds and the other twelve families. Collectively they remain the one ring to rule them all. How does the rest of it go? Oh yeah, "And in the darkness bind them". Exactly.

A World of Fuck Dolls

Who remembers RealDolls™? They were a big splash in the news (certainly in the Sydney Morning Herald) about ten years ago. RealDolls are uber-realistic sex dolls. I recall it all started when some model-maker (my old trade) realised that the new epoxies and urethanes that spookily replicated flesh could be used to make something infinitely more realistic than those nasty inflatable dolls. RealDolls weren't cheap of course, with each costing in the vicinity of US$5000. But people paid and RealDoll seems to be thriving with assorted new 'big-eyed' models that, to all intents and purposes, are as close to underage dolls that they can get without being obvious. I don't doubt that the fellow who came up with RealDoll made a lot of money - and probably contrived some bullshit disappear-up-it's-own-arse logic to explain the rightness of it all as well.


Truth is, RealDoll is merely an X-rated version of the Pygmalion myth, best known to people in it's tarted up version, My Fair Lady (from the pen of everyone's favourite Fabian Socialist, George Bernard Shaw). The Pygmalion myth might loosely be described as a fellow's desire to have a partner who can shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch. Don't be alarmed there, it's just me channelling a self-obsessed git. And that's where RealDoll's head is at, so to speak. It frees a person from having to consider their partner, and allows them to be as mad and self-absorbed as can be. With a RealDoll, 'It's all about me'. There's a documentary out there featuring various RealDoll owners and you'll be hard-pressed finding a sorrier line-up of losers anywhere.


Mind you, the astoundingly life-like properties of the new urethanes are no longer anything special. The samples that blew my mind at the pattern-making suppliers back in the early nineties are a given now. The big deal lately is the animation of the simulacra. Japan seems to be leading the way in this regard. If you've ever seen Honda's Asimo robot running up and down stairs you can't help but be impressed. And lately the news carried a report about the life-like 'Repliee Q1' who sat demurely in a chair and answered questions. Wow - imagine her with fuck-able orifices! Hot diggety!


Eventually we'll arrive at Repliee Q10 and finally the shortcomings of the perpetually passive RealDoll will be done away with. Not only will your sex partner be able to shut the fuck up, but will fuck like a monkey too! At last blow-jobs that, a) don't involve you having to do all the work, as with the RealDoll, and b) are free of all the coughing, spluttering, and complaining that comes with a real person. Dig it - it's a cum-spattered E-ticket for an X-rated Disneyland. And all in the comfort of your own home!


To hell with the real world. To hell with Buddha's dukkha and the fear/anxiety that accompanies things being other than I would wish. I refuse to see the world as it is. Instead I posit myself as a god and recreate the world to according to my whims - everything must bow down (or bend over) before me. Thus spake Zarathustra, ha ha.

Autism For All!

To be honest, one wonders why they persist with these rubbery simulacra. Having read of what was done to Susan Ford in Thanks For The Memories, clearly the aristocratic filth that rule us arrived at an infinitely better solution to the problem of troublesome servants. Besides, the aristocracy are people of taste and refinement - they would no more stick their dick in an artificial orifice than they would eat the GM shit at McDonalds. Perhaps we should just view the RealDoll as yet another straw on the know-thyself camels' back - another thing in a long unbroken line of stuff designed to destroy our bonds with each other, and otherwise have us understand the rightness of worshipping the self.


In wondering what the death cult aristocracy is on about, it doesn't pay to think small. There's no point tempering your thoughts with petty niggles or scruples. The death cult never does. The truth is we as little people have no idea of what is and isn't feasible when the world is yours to command. Thus we may as well just gun for the worst case scenario. Remember, for the death cult, 'worst case scenario' = 'an ideal world'.

In this best of all possible worlds, ideally we will all be variations of Susan Ford. And there I was, having just finished Ford's book, chatting on the phone to a friend of mine who was telling me of her six-year-old autistic son's progress in school. I know this kid as well as I know any. Or to put it another way, I don't know him at all since I've never had a conversation with him. That's autism for you. If you ask him a question he just repeats it, or ignores you utterly. Otherwise even the merest hint of attempting to modify his behaviour will result in him smashing his head against the wall. Literally. Everything you know about kids goes out the window with autism. Otherwise, left to himself he's a sweet kid, albeit an unknowable one.

Astoundingly, his mother tells me that he is doing brilliantly in his first year of school. Forget the remedial 'special' class I assumed would be his lot - in English and maths he's leaving all the other kids behind. And yet frustratingly, when she asks him, 'How was school?' he just repeats the question. On matters of feelings, or of himself, or even of others, he is unable to formulate an opinion. 'How are you?, makes no sense to him.

Um, okay - anyone else out there with a lightbulb going off in their head? Isn't this kid almost precisely what the death cult is looking for?


Is everyone across the link between autism and government mandated mercury-based thimerosal vaccines? I'll take it as read. Now think of McGowan's Laurel Canyon and his detailing of the death cult's mass release of LSD in the hippy movement. Think of the 'spike' nature of LSD (ie. if we plotted a graph of LSD use over time), and compare that to the 'spike' nature of autism - zero to a hundred in a few short years. Certainly LSD was freely handed out and freely taken, and thimerosal-laced vaccines were government mandated, but in the whatever-suits nature of the campaign this is neither here nor there.

Here then is the thought - what if autism by way of mass thimerosal poisoning wasn't so much a penny pinching exercise by big pharma as much as it was another yellow brick in the road to mind control? Let's not be put off by the fact that it didn't succeed. LSD didn't succeed either. As far as I can see, autism as dry-run experiment towards the goal of a world of slaves makes as much sense (hell, probably more) than any other bullshit reason.

The only thing we know for sure is that bullshit lies are a certainty, and the lies are always layered. Think of the Gulf War: (loudly) Iraq has WMD's; (not so loudly) we thought Iraq had WMD's; (quietly) it's all about the oil; (sotto voce) it's all about Israel; (and completely unspoken) the truth - Iraq was just a single step in the global goal of smashing Islam's alternative to usury.

And in the discussion of why there are so many autistic kids now, I'm thinking we're somewhere between 'It was a mistake', and 'It was greed'. The first of these is laughable - there's no way kids were injected with mercury by accident. The second is just too penny-ante. Given the monstrousness of what was done, it's absurd to think that the nickels and dimes saved by using mercury preservative were worth it. Metaphor time - if we had mosquitoes breeding in the well, would we believe the explanation of the fellow who tipped ten litres of arsenic in there - that he did this because the arsenic was five dollars cheaper than the citronella? Not forgetting that he's a pharmacologist and the richest guy in town. Would we believe that?

Am I the only guy to whom this thought has occurred? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, given that I'm the merest dilettente, there's no way I'm going to make any splash, or otherwise bust it up the middle with this. Certainly not with the health expert heavies who've clocked up endless hours detailing the links between thimerosal and autism.


But then again, there's a lot to be said for dilettenteism. In this world of the Big Lie, focusing tight on a subject means you have no true idea of how big the Big Lie is. With a narrow viewfinder, the weeny tentacled protozoa appears monstrous - the Goober that ate New York City. Scale will do that to you. Step back and we'll see that that impossibly big Big Lie isn't imposssible at all. They do it all the time - business as usual.

So! Here I am asserting that the autism epidemic is, in all probability, the result of a deliberate act of mass poisoning. But as epic as that crime is, I'll also assert that for the death cult it's the merest bagatelle, barely a blink of their god-like eye. With the death cult it pays to throw out all sense of human scale. God knows they did.

Walter Bowart, meet Carl Cameron

A plunge down the memory hole! Penny sent me this book in pdf ages ago and I only just now got around to reading it (sorry Pen and thanks). I have to say that this book is, if you'll forgive the term, a complete mindfuck. So much so I want to urge it upon everyone.


But! It doesn't exist! The CIA bought the entire print run. It was even disappeared from public libraries. Admittedly it's on Amazon but only as second hand copies and those are going at a hundred bucks each. You read that right - US$100. Given this, and given the fact that the author died a couple of years ago, I see no problems with me making it available for download - 2.9MB pdf - off you go.

The book itself is written in a straightforward newspaper journalese. It's Dave McGowan albeit with a bigger bibliography and more footnotes. In many ways Operation Mind Control is a prequel to McGowan's Progammed To Kill. Ideally you'd read Bowart first and McGowan second. But really it's neither here nor there. Each book reveals the most astounding facts and there's very little direct overlap.

The main thought that kept running through my head as I read this book was that it was written in 1978. My naive wonderings in that know thyself piece were old hat well over thirty years ago. Bowart discusses the use of computers back when supercomputers had less grunt than a mobile phone now has. As for the book's discussion of tiny electronic implants in the skull for remote triggering, you don't need me to tell you how far we've come with that. Not forgetting that whatever we might know about RFID, we barely know the half of it, and even then the truth will be ten years ahead of that.

As then there's the drugs. Good God! LSD, as huge as that was, was just a small part of it. They tested everything - Bowart's book lists over 130 drugs. Since then I'd bet that there'd be that many again as families of drugs. And for every 'happy' drug like Prozac (even that's old hat now) there will be ten black opposites. The book makes clear that very little mind research takes place without spook involvement. And if this spook funded industry comes up with anything 'good', ie. useful for something other than the black arts, it's a complete fluke. The last thing they're interested in is improving the lot of mankind.

Bowart paints a picture of mind control taken to such a degree of perfection that it's staggering. Anyone could be made to do anything and have no memory of it at all. And that was thirty years ago. And here we are today, with endless discussions of 'how is this all possible', and yet Bowart had the answer in 1978. His book makes it clear that just about anyone, given several weeks of programming could be made to do pretty much anything - right up to killing their own mother. And after having done so, they would think nothing of it. And further, were they to be hooked up to a lie detector and asked if they knew anything about their mother's death they would pass with flying colours. Don't forget (and it's worth italicising twice) - that was over thirty years ago.

In 1978 a computer interface consisted of green glowing text in a UNIX shell. Now we have gorgeous photographic desktops with little animating icons, all of which are endlessly editable. I'll bet money that the fully operational mind control programme of that time, has now advanced to a similar level of sophistication. The 'tech' endlessly talked about by that fellow over in the Smoking Mirrors comments section seems perfectly feasible.

Once again, I'm forced to re-evaluate everything. Obama spent two years working for a CIA front company did he? Well that's all it takes. Pick a leader who makes no sense and plug him or her into this book and see if you don't view them in a whole new light. Sure enough, bring up 'mind control' in any discussion of current world events and you'll be viewed as a crackpot. But honestly, read this book and you'll know that there's no point discussing such things without mind control being considered as a distinct possibility.

---

The only point of contention for mine is who owns the mind control caper. Bowart, like McGowan with his paedophocracy, posits his 'cryptocracy' as a product of the CIA, the NSA, the US military and sundry US government acronyms, and all of this under the control of about 'twenty people'. We're left to assume that these twenty are all of the American ruling class. Me, I don't buy it - way back when, this might have been the case, but not anymore. The rule now seems to be that as the stakes rise higher, so does the likelihood of the US elite absurdly acting against their own interests. Honestly, we see it over and over.


Since we're in memory hole territory, why don't I put up another disappeared story - it's Carl Cameron's Fox News reports of Israeli spying, and specifically Amdocs and Comverse Infosys. It's in mov format and comes in four parts, each between 10 and 15MB.

Watch these and ask yourself - if the US spook elite is so powerful, how is it possible that they'd let two such crucial apparatuses of spook control end up in Israeli hands? If they really were such ne plus ultra powers, there is no way known that these insanely important telecommunication functions would be in any hands other than American ones. QED.

Besides, watch Cameron's reports and see how these all-powerful institutions flail about, unable to do anything about Israeli spying. Not forgetting that the FBI's biggest case for decades, the AIPAC spy trial, just folded with only a single guy going to jail, and he was American. Honestly, for the old school American elite this was nothing other than an ignominious, shit-spattered defeat - an unambiguous, in-your-face demonstration of who's in charge.

Let's not forget that the CIA, founded as an umbrella organisation to whom every other intelligence agency would report, is now itself underneath the Department of Homeland Security run by an Israeli citizen. (Hmm... it seems we have unstoppable programmed killers and yet Michael Chertoff remains unwhacked. More QED for the question of 'whose cryptocracy is this?')

Let's finish with a quote from Operation Mind Control about Dr. George Estabrooks, who in the early forties theorised about what the fiendish Japanese might do with a single hypnotist -

It would be possible, he said, for "the enemy" to plant a foreign agent as a doctor in a hospital or his own office. This "doctor" could, by means of fake physical examinations, place thousands of people under his power over a period of time. Estabrooks projected how, by hypnotizing key officers and programming them to follow suggestions, this "masked maneuver" could enable a lowly first lieutenant to take over the reins of the entire U.S. Army.

Ha ha ha, such fatuous nonsense. I have a much better idea. Why not let the intelligence agencies spend all their time and money conducting experiments and torture etc. and then if what results is a thing worth having, just take the reins when it's done? Cue the maniacal laughter! Ha ha ha ha! Bloody evil genius, me! Oh wait, it seems someone already thought of it. Damn.

The Redemption Machine - A Science Fiction Story

Sometimes the title to a piece comes first. Sometimes it comes last. This one came right at the end. During my week-long Devotion to Aergia what I wanted to write grew and became far more than I expected. And on the last day the goddess smiled and I understood that what I had in mind was science fiction.

Has anyone read Bob Shaw's short story, Light Of Other Days? That story and this one have a lot in common. Shaw's tale pivoted around a material called 'slow glass' that (what with light travelling through it at various 'slow' speeds) functioned as a window to the past. After assorted adventures the story ended with the CIA dusting an unsuspecting world with powdered slow glass. The dust in every room in your house, the dust mixed with the sweat on your brow, all of it, was a recorder visually charting everything everyone did. All the CIA needed to do was put it in a projector and play it back. It was the end of privacy.


Sure enough to slow light down in this fashion isn't physically possible. But this is! This is real and it's happening now. As things stand we're in clunkiness territory. But seriously, can anyone here not imagine how this will end up? The speed of technology is insane now. Record players barely changed for a century and suddenly in a few short years people have a thousand hours of music in their tie clip. So, where will ATR's mind-reading thing go?

With my science-fiction writer's hat firmly clamped on my head here's what I reckon - in the same amount of time it took to travel from the first VCR through to mobile phone cameras and youtube, a machine will exist that will allow a person to wander through another's head more readily than they can now wander through a hard drive. A head already has our operating system and you can talk to it, you see. And never mind those pesky permissions - the head-viewer will be super user. By merely saying a word, like 'murder', the viewer will see everything that person knows about murder. I expect memories will be listed in 'visceral' order. Murders someone has participated in will come first, witnessed - second, saw on tv - third... something like that.

But frankly, murderers will be the least of it. The greatest of them will never be subjected to this machine. Instead it will be for thought crime. It will be for us.

There will be no dissembling. The act of dissembling will be seen too. Whatever thoughts run through your head will be like the ticker tape running along the bottom of the TV screen. Or perhaps the voice-over? Either way there'll be nowhere to hide. Whoever has this machine will have it all.


So I read this article and a switch flipped in my head - "That's Fucking It! Once those fuckers get this machine it's all over. Time to start shooting people. Jesus!" Wait a minute, what about the obvious flipside? Imagine if we laid our hands on one of these machines and plugged one of the Rothschilds into it? Imagine a window into the mind of a fellow who views himself as greater than God? Imagine screening it to the public? Wow. There's the ultimate weapon right there.

---

The beautiful Aergia doesn't care for such riled thoughts. She's down with Buddha in dispelling fear and desire. Under her laid back guidance I realised I had everything wrong. This machine was not a thing to be feared. It's not a terminator robot that we either run from, or use as a weapon against them. It's far bigger than that. In fact, it might just be the biggest thing ever, with history dividing into 'before' and 'after'.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. First up we must seize the ownership of this thing. It must be public. All research must be put into public hands with progress charted on the internet. We declare the machine is not a weapon. This is not the Manhattan Project and we are not at war with anyone. The machine is for all.

Initially the machine will simply be the means by which we determine who should hold positions of public trust. No one will be forced to be have their mind searched. But anyone who asserts that they are worthy of the public's trust will have to prove it. If you don't want to be subject to a public search of your mind, fine, no problems. But you're not going to run a child-minding centre. Or a church. Or a bank. Or a police force. Or a government. You'll just have to find some other means of making a living. No biggie.


Sure enough, this machine will be used on criminals who will not be volunteers. Okay, no problems. People may be involuntarily subjected to a machine but only by someone who has undergone it themselves. Using the machine is itself a position of public trust.

Under this rubric of 'public trust' the point isn't to search for saints and bodhisattvas. Mind you, if we find them that will be brilliant, an education for all. But forget them, we don't actually need saints. What we need are people who aren't corrupt, murderous, self-worshipping, paedophile motherfuckers. Is that too much to ask?

And for those out there thinking, 'Fucking hell. Do you know what wicked thoughts run through my head?' - you don't get it. It's you and everybody. Me too, sure. You plug me into it and it's all there - lying, cheating, stealing, committing violence upon people, and yep, even me perving on the endless parade of barely-teen bods hoping someone notices them on their way to the beach. I notice them alright. You would too. And?


And Jimmy Carter 'sinned in his heart' did he? Well shit, eh? Ain't no one who hasn't. Not that that stopped the hypocrites from wagging their fingers at poor old Jimmy. Well, a tuppence for that. The machine will change everything. Anyone who wants to make out that they're free to cast that first stone can prove it. They step up to the plate and plug into the machine. Showing up hypocrites is a thing worth doing sure, but it's nothing compared to the bombshell of seeing that our sins, which we imagined as very terrible, are actually run of the mill.

This fear we have of our innermost thoughts being seen is nothing, a wisp of smoke. We only imagine that no one thinks like we do. Being unmasked is only scary if no one else does it. Sure enough, fear of being nude in public makes no sense if you're in a nudist camp. Only an idiot would be embarrassed when everybody has their yayas out. Not forgetting of course, that no one is forcing anyone to go to this metaphoric nudist camp. If you don't want a position of public trust you don't need to lay yourself open. It's all voluntary.


And so... fuck it - I volunteer to go first. And yep, everyone can go nuts at the filth in my head. And then the next person, and the next, and the next, until eventually the filth in my head is seen for what it is - simple daily grime, ha ha.

MInd you, there'll be people whose disappointment in me will know no bounds. "You never loved me." "How can you think that about my daughter?" "You're just doing this out of politeness." Yep it's all true. But whatever - this blog has already caused some of my friends to disown me. Never mind - eggs is to be broken and fears are to be dispelled. We'll all just have to get used to it. I wonder if it will be cathartic? Confession is, you know. The Catholics haven't used it for centuries for no reason. The machine will be the ultimate version of getting something off your chest.


What tripped me over the line of fear in this matter is the fact that the machine as I imagine it wouldn't be selective. It would not show my sins in isolation. It will necessarily show how I view those things now and why I will never do them again. It will make clear the nature of my relationship with those not me, and what guides my actions. It will all be there.

That's when the beauty struck me - this thing will be the Redemption Machine. It will enable people to confess their sins fully and find complete forgiveness. No one will have anything to fear from it. Even for the most wicked man in the world, redemption will be an undeniable possibility - real, true, honest to God, redemption. Anyone who can display a cannot-be-faked understanding of the wrongness of their previous self-serving mindset will be welcomed by the rest of humanity. Remember, bullshit is impossible. The conversation in your head that says, 'Ha, that should fool them, suckers!' will be publicly broadcast. The wicked will fear this, sure, but the possibility of this as a process of redemption is massive. What are people going to say? 'I don't want to be redeemed'?

---

Eventually the redemption machine will reach a tipping point as it goes beyond a minority and becomes normal. Finally a useful purpose for peer-group pressure! Who knows where this will go? It occurs to me that eventually the redemption machine will be a piece of software on every computer in every home. People will plug in daily to have full honest communication with each other. Parents and children. Husbands and wives. Whomever. Perhaps we will go on the net to share our minds. Would that work?

I can imagine those who refuse to share their minds as eventually being driven into a tiny, shunned and beset minority. I also imagine a daily haemorrhage from the ranks of the wicked as individuals overcome their fear of redemption and join the rest of humanity in acknowledging the obviousness of right behaviour.

Dig it, it will be like Star Trek's Borg but instead of casting off humanity and becoming machine-like, the hive mind would function in the opposite fashion. Joining would be like falling off a stage and being caught - caught in arms of love, understanding, and forgiveness. Participation will be the ultimate declaration of humanity. Everyone who joins will be taking a large individual step (and a small collective one) towards one-with-the-universe.

This collective mind will address problems like poverty, pollution, and population (and alliteration!). Many many things, from technologies such as GMO, to stories and narrative based on us-and-them, will be abandoned as worthless. Me, I'll be pleased because I reckon the rightness of behaviour based on selflessness as the single determinant will become obvious. Complicated proscriptions of sin will fall by the wayside. As will false religions, false isms, hell, falsity in general. The world will never be the same. An extraordinary future is possible with all of man's preceding history being viewed as the Age of the Closed Mind.

Sadly, we're still there. Our minds are still closed and we have to share ideas by way of second-rate things like speech and the written word. Still, it's not too terrible. Words serve a purpose. Why don't we put those words to good use to light a fire in the minds of those head-down, arse-up scientists in at, where was it? Oh yeah, the ATR Computational Neuroscience Laboratories in Japan. I think we need to blow their minds, to let them know what they're in amongst. I address them -


Boys and Girls, we all know that this thing is coming regardless. Ain't nothing anyone can do to stop it. But you're in amongst something bigger than anyone can imagine. It's possible that you just might be saviours who can deliver the redemption of mankind. And yep, it doesn't get much bigger than that. Get it right and the love and esteem of the world's people will be yours. I wish you well.

Holding on to 'know thyself'

It's embarrassing I know, but I have never taken a trip. Of the psychotropic variety, that is. Everyone I know has done so, but somehow I missed out. I have no great philosophical objection to it all. Quite the opposite - so many people have told me that I really must do it that I've put the word out that if anyone comes across a goldtop mushie, pop it in some honey and give me a hoy. One day...

And yes, thank you, no need for anyone to pile in and tell me of the wickedness of this. I get it. A cousin of mine went out on a Friday night once and disappeared for three days. Finally he turned up in a casualty ward, naked, cut to pieces, and barking like a dog. No one knows quite what happened to him but it's assumed he took a trip. A bad one, obviously. Sure enough, he got better but he's now on a daily regimen of anti-schizophrenic drugs and will be for the rest of his life. That LSD (an industrial strength chemical concoction) is bad, in no way condemns the natural hallucinogens which ancient peoples have been taking under the guidance of elders for millennia. Natural v chemical. Tradition v the latest thing. Wisdom v no idea.


These dichotomies aside, if only my cousin had had someone like the father of a Swedish friend of mine. His father was an original hippy and had been there and done that, and he told his son that no one should take a trip until they're at least forty. It was his opinion that any earlier than this was dangerous, what with a young mind not quite having settled down into a solid variety of 'this-is-who-I-am', if you can dig it. For this original hippy, even thirty was too young.

I expect those of you reading, and who are in their forties, will get the concept. Me, I'm so glad I'm in my forties. Sure I miss the thoughtless physical health of my youth - the endless energy, the instant healing, the indestructibility, etc. But between that and me having a handle on who I am, I'll take the latter. And when I heard the Swedish hippy's advice it struck a chord. I got it. Had I heard it when I was thirty, say, I suspect I would have been too nebulous a concept for me. I may or may not have followed the advice depending on whether someone else said something different. "Nah! That's bullshit!" - "Um is it? Okay."

Being young is about not knowing what to think. As it was, my friend's Dad's advice was no do-or-die for me, what with already being past forty, and never having taken a trip anyway. But all that aside, the kernel within that advice is a thing worth rolling around in one's head and wondering at.

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Along these lines, let's jump - to the word 'break', as in break, broke, broken. This can mean various things. In the context of 'The photocopier is broken', it could mean something as simple as a fuse being blown. No biggie, let's just call the repairman. But for that part of human existence that preceded photocopiers (and other diabolical machines), when a thing was broken it was necessarily in pieces. Think clay pots. You break a thing, and it becomes useless.

Funnily enough, with humans it's the other way around. You break them and suddenly they become really very useful. Perhaps the most useful thing there is. What sort of 'broken' is this? Think horses. A human can be broken just like a horse can be broken, same same. Which is to say, we break their will. (Now there's a word for you. What is one's 'will' in this sense? Hmm... 'the faculty by which a person decides on and initiates action'. Not bad. But might we not call this 'knowing who one is'?)


When we break a horse, we break its will and it is no longer what it was. It is no longer its own master but instead is subject to us. What we broke was its definition of itself. And so it is with a human who is broken. A broken man, whether by someone else's hand, or mere circumstance (ie. 'After his son died he was a broken man'), loses his spark, his impetus, his definition of himself. And when one man breaks another it is invariably so he might subject that man to his own will. The man is redefined - servant to the fellow who broke him.

It's not just this being broken that humans and horses have in common. Were they to be released from their fealty each could recover their sense of themselves. A horse that escapes it's corral will turn wild again, which is to say rediscover itself as a horse. 'I am a horse! I run about! I root mares! I do whatever the fuck I like!' (Um, apologies for this being very 'male'. Certainly I could make it all non-sexist but the clunky syntax required would make it flow like a bucket of wet sand. Between flow, and catering to the rigidities of non-sexism, I choose the former. Words are one thing, and deeds are another. Oh wait, have I broken the flow here? D'oh!)

Where was I? Oh yes, breaking a man. It strikes me that this has been a constant throughout history - men breaking men in order to subject them to their will. Hmm... there's an book angle for you. "Men as Beasts - The History of Breaking the Human Will". Howard Zinn eat your heart out.

Anyway thank God we've left all that behind - master/servant - all that rubbish. Now we have freedom. Ha ha ha ha - as if! The motherfuckers of this world (psychopaths, whatever) have never quit. In much the same way that horses have been replaced by horsepower, breaking a man's will has likewise scientifically progressed to hitherto unimaginable heights. Which is to say, 'depths'.

For black-hearted secret organisations like the CIA et al, keen to have the world subject to their will, this ability to truly break a man, to make him act against his most deeply held principles, constitutes a variety of holy grail - Mind Control. If one could control a fellow's mind, who needs super powers? Bugger kryptonite - between being able to weaken Superman, and turning him into your biddable asset, it's a no-brainer. Or to put it another way - why would you shoot a horse when you could ride it instead?

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And then there's MPD/DID. The acronym stands for Multiple Personality Disorder/Dissociative Identity Disorder - the former is the old term and the latter the new one apparently. This is that old chestnut of fiction wherein two or more personae ('alters') exist within one mind. Think Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, albeit with Hyde as an alter appearing merely by having his name called. In searching for a non-cinema metaphor, MPD/DID is to the breaking of the human will, what the Reserve Bank system is to your local loanshark.

And in much the same way that Reserve Banking's private ownership doesn't exist in the media, MPD/DID is similarly misrepresented as the fantastical stuff of fiction, not to be taken seriously. However, having read the account of witness X1 (amongst myriad others) from the Dutroux scandal, I now have MPD/DID down as non-fiction. Besides this, if you plug it into Dave McGowan's Programmed To Kill, and the battle between Recovered Memory Syndrome and the CIA's False Memory Syndrome, a 'what-the-fuck-is-going-on-here' picture starts to sharpen into something possessed of shape, colour, and form.

It seems we're permitted to know about MKultra and its assorted drug and hypnotism experiments. But perhaps this was merely a side-show to the true three ring circus of Operation Monarch. According to Ron Patton this involved Josef Mengele. We all roll our eyes - bloody Josef Mengele! More Boys From Brazil fiction! Yeah, maybe, maybe not.


Given that American practitioners of the black arts wholeheartedly embraced the personnel of Japan's Unit 731 (and their experiments in biological warfare), the default position would have to be 'why wouldn't they?'. That the Germans pursued Mind Kontrolle like the Americans pursued mind control is beyond plausible. That they did this in concentration camps with the prisoners as experimental subjects, likewise. It's precisely what the Japanese did with 731. And Mengele? Why not? Every other goddamn thing about the Holocaust has been misrepresented, why not him too? It's perfectly possible that the various stories of him in Brazil were complete fiction. The Boys From Brazil certainly was.

What if we were to call MKultra a search for a drug induced shortcut to MPD/DID? And it seems the shortcut, by way of LSD, failed. LSD, in breaking the link between reality and fantasy, seems only to produce less than useful casualties like my cousin. No problems, if LSD doesn't provide the answer, move on. And since it's not addictive and thus unlikely to produce the staggering profits of smack, coke, and meth, then it isn't really worth pursuing. If there's any proof to be found in one's own microcosm, I have encountered all three of above and yet never bumped into LSD. The experiment is over and it no longer suits the motherfuckers to have it out there.

So they chucked in MKultra. But there's no way they chucked in the search for mind control. For motherfuckers, this holy grail will never lose its appeal. Best to stick with the tried and true - smashing the psyche of the young. Certainly that one can take a child, brutalise them, and turn them into killers is old hat. Evidence of it is everywhere, from Sparta of yore, to China's Cultural Revolution, right through to the Congo of today.


But we are white men. As if we couldn't come up with something better than Africa's blank-eyed child killers. Even Henry Lee Lucas and his grand guignol slaughterfests, whilst serving a definite purpose, leave a lot to be desired. Really, MPD/DID is the go. To be able to take a mind and fracture it into discrete entities each capable of different things answers the brief pretty well. And yeah yeah, suffering beyond comprehension, a mind smashed to pieces, with only a shell remaining - like motherfuckers give a shit.

And so we arrive at X1, and all those like her. She survived and with help is attempting to reconstruct herself. You'd have to wish her luck in her endeavours to find peace of mind. There but for the grace of God etc. etc. But I suspect she's in a minority of those MPD/DID victims who escaped their snuff film fate. Who knows how many went on to inflict their own misery upon others?

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Did anyone read Ursula LeGuin's Earthsea Trilogy? The magic of Earthsea pivoted on everything having a secret name. This name was always guarded since possession of this knowledge gave one power over whomever it was. When I read this book, way back when, I greeted this concept with a shrug. Nice idea, but as best I could tell it seemed to have no great connection to anything. Not anymore. Now I really wonder at it. It's a precise description of the mechanism by which an MPD/DID slave is controlled. Curious. Never mind a shrug, now I shake my head. Did Ursula LeGuin just fluke this?

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In amongst this sordid trip through MPD/DID, the thought occurred to me (since I'm that sort of fellow) 'What if it was me being subjected to this?'. Would I cope? Or succumb? If someone wanted to split my mind, would they succeed? Could I hold on to my will, my sense of myself?

In turning this thought around, the phrase 'know thyself' popped into my head. It's an oldie but a goodie that I'd never taken beyond face value. Like LeGuin's secret names, I'd merely shrugged - know thyself - um, okay, sure, why not? But under the light of MPD/DID, 'know thyself' now seems fraught with meaning. Madly, I wonder if it might not originally have been a warning from an ancient sage familiar with some antediluvian version of mind control. Hmm... an unlikely prospect. And besides, surely the MPD/DID variety of smashing-of-the-will must necessarily be restricted to a tiny number of people. Statistically individuals like X1 couldn't comprise more than a tiny fraction of one percent of the population.

Not so fast! Perhaps this isn't an either/or proposition? Perhaps it's another continuum? What if people like X1 were merely the furthest extreme on a bell curve? (So extreme, that in much the same way that statisticians reject such extreme anomalies under the 2.3 standard deviations rule, we too do likewise and reject it as a subject too far. We really just don't want to go there). Back to this continuum now, isn't our sense of know-thyself under a daily assault? In fact, couldn't we describe everything we're on about here - from Adbusters' simple sense of dislocation, through to the Protocols plans of destruction for everything 'not them' - as an assault on our ability to know-thyself? What is the media (Hollywood, games, advertising - all the same thing) apart from a machine that does precisely this? Isn't it our sense of know-thyself suffering death by a thousand cuts?

And then there's who the media is aimed at. It ain't me, that's for sure. One doesn't have to spend very long immersed in the media before realising it's almost entirely directed at the young. As with MPD/DID, when assaulting know-thyself it pays to start young. Otherwise, not so long ago there was no such thing as 'youth culture'. A single generation ago people would have understood each of these words separately but to connect them would have had them scratching their heads. Ha! Now that I think about it, 'youth culture' is a perfect oxymoron. With culture being a thing that develops slowly over countless generations, how could 'youth' and 'culture' possibly be put together in any sensible fashion? Honestly?


Regardless, the media relentlessly beats young people about the head with perverse ideas of who they should imagine themselves to be. A lot of it is connected with turning them into hell-bent consumers, sure enough. So what's up with the media's relentless sexualisation? What does this have to do with consumerism? Whether eight year olds are wearing g-strings or granny pants, the money would flow regardless. So what are our kids being made into? And why?

And whilst this is a long way from what was done to X1, it's still the same road with everyone being shepherded towards the same destination, with know-thyself receding ever further into the distance.

Between our venerable Swedish hippy urging his son to wait until he's forty, and the CIA handing out vast quantities of LSD; between parents hoping for a 'normal' family and the media's mad deification and sexualisation of children; and between peace, love, and understanding, and the endless inculcation of us-and-them with death to towelheads - could we not define all of these as a struggle to hold on to know-thyself?

Am I the only person to ask some variation of the question, 'Is this my country?', or better still, "Who are we?'. I don't think so.

Whilst it's early days for yours truly with this line of thought (with much work to be done), could we describe Siddhartha Gautama's ascension to Buddha-dom as him arriving at a complete state of know-thyself? For mine, it's inescapable that the ultimate truth of know-thyself is that we are one with the universe. The black opposite of this, desired by those who would break us/break our will, is that we each become our own universe. Thus we become individual, self-obsessed molecules bouncing off each other in a state of complete chaos. We lack all coherency - in both meanings of the word. It's a smashing of our 'one-ness'. Whether this one-ness is within our own heads, à la X1, or collectively, as in our sense of community, I'll posit that it's all the same thing.

I have no idea if that Swedish hippy dad quite knew what he was doing when he passed on his advice to his son. And never mind the specificity of it as being about psychotropic drugs. That's a useful thing to know, sure. But above that, his words and the wisdom that underlies them are pure gold, perhaps the only thing worth knowing. Thyself. Within this lies everything. If one could pass on one single thing to one's child, says I, this is it.