Monday, September 11, 2017

A Country Without Sin

It’s that time of year we get to hear
The narrative again
How we endured the punishment
As a country without sin

We acted like we knew the score
Just a few hours in
By a media that lies to us
From beginning to the end

To reinforce this madness
We celebrate a more righteous cause
If World War II did not exist
There’d be no good war at all

So, they flash it across the silver screen
To keep us in their thrall
And for those with no reason, good thing it’s the season
To throw them a football

Building 7 is the centerpiece
Of lies that cannot stand
But most would rather look away
Than see blood on their hands

Once you face the truth of this
You start to see their plan
Your life now stands before you
Just like castles made of sand

Everything you once believed
Turned out to be a lie
You wonder if the sky is blue
Or clouds are passing by

But once you spend the time to contemplate
You take it in with a sigh
Now you have a thankless job
And yet you wonder why…

There’s this thing about religion
Where you make more wrong decisions
By casting your derision
Upon someone else’s vision

If I were to tell you that I am closer to god than you
Because I wrote it down
And burned the other books that I stole the ideas from
You would rightfully call me insane

Yet that’s what many still do
Because their religion tells them to
So is it any wonder that the Talmudic Jew turns the screws
On other Jews as well as you

So here we are to celebrate
The lies once again
That Muslims are our enemies
While Israel is our friend

Now all we can do is wait for these fools
To roll the dice again
But what more can we expect
From a country without sin














Sunday, September 3, 2017

Above the Haze

As I write this here in the Pacific Northwest, the smoke from the fires that surround us now linger in the trees of my yard.   

There was once an owl who had built her nest atop the highest tree in the forest.  She had survived countless seasons and was now approaching the winter of her life. 

From her vantage point, she could see not only the forest but also where the land opened up revealing the structures of those strange and monstrous creatures that had shown themselves to be such poor stewards of the earth.

She remembered the days when those who walked upon two legs yet had no wings showed respect for the land and took only what was necessary to live.  But then came the interlopers who enslaved these indigenous people and plundered the land taking more than they needed due to their greed.

She had noticed through the years that the interlopers who exhibited the basest characteristics of their kind had wormed their way to the top of their pecking order.  She also noticed that the hierarchy they now served whether on the job or in the street was militaristic in nature.  This was hardly surprising to her as they were a nation constantly at war.    

She could see the horrific outward manifestations of a species out-of-control in so many different ways, but none affected her more than the forest fires that seemed to get worse every year. 

The owl had previously watched when the trees had been harvested beyond their ability to reproduce.  The effects of clear cutting that followed had taken its toll until the polarized mind of these same sad creatures had pushed for shutting down the forests completely, allowing too much of a renewable resource to die which in turn made the forest more susceptible to fires.  That many of these fires were started by the interlopers themselves was also not lost to her.

The old owl was still upset that the interlopers had used one of her feathered kin as a reason for closing the forests.  These owls had become so weakened due to their “protections” that other owls had to be killed off on their behalf as they threatened to take over their habitat.  In the end, the protected owls lost their ability to fly making them subject to the beasts on the ground.   The owl pondered the irony of a people who had allowed themselves to be part of the same process.     

Gazing through the smoke at the silhouette of the village in the distance, the old owl knew that the bipod’s path would invariably lead to complete destruction.  Those who had been granted the greatest opportunity of conscious connection with the Universe had lost their way in the haze of second-hand minds.

Although it seemed that the smoke from these fires would never end, the old owl was thankful for this in some ways.  She could no longer see the radiation pouring into the Pacific Ocean.  Also, she could no longer see the other countries being invaded by this many-tentacle monster that continued to disrupt the tranquility of her forest.    

The owl was glad that she was getting old.  She no longer cared if it was the foolishness and cruelty of this invasive species that killed her or old age.  She would then be able to see things from a much higher level than the top of the tallest tree.

And she’d finally be above of the haze.

Thursday, August 24, 2017

A Life of Meaning


Growing up in the 60’s and 70’s, I was almost completely unaware of what was going on around me at the time, other than what was occurring in my family, school and neighborhood.  I knew that there was a war going on as one soon becomes accustomed to such things when living here in America.  War is the discordant background noise that subtly permeates every aspect of our lives.

But I had more important things to do back then; like being a kid who shouldn’t have to worry about that sort of stuff--and I didn’t.  As little growth as I have had in my own life, it would have been much less had I seen things then as I do now.  I simply would not have been able to handle it.  There are times in which I can hardly handle it now.  

Now looking back at these wars throughout my life, I’ve yet to find a legitimate one yet.  Every one of them was propped up by liars and thieves who make money off these conflicts while fulfilling their agenda of burning up the world with the intent of recreating it in their own twisted image.

At some point, America will outlive its usefulness of destabilizing other countries. We’re running out of resources to fund these wars now and continue to be robbed by our government and the banks they serve to support them.  When the bottom finally falls out, America will turn upon its own.  But this was all put in place a long time ago.

As our rulers needed us to play our part in order for the agenda to be successful, they’ve done a brilliant job of getting us into conflicts with one another.  And it starts with what’s going on in the family.

The problem is that our parents drove us crazy.  They never questioned the programming no matter how evil their leaders had become.  From WWII to Vietnam and onward, the lies became more brazen.  Then came 9/11, the biggest lie of them all.  Finally, after the invasion of Iraq the second time, there were no amount of lies that could cover the narrative anymore.  Still, our parents now continue to support yet another liar, murderer and thief that has been put in place to fan the flames of war.  

As for the children of the parents who unconsciously “call evil good and good evil,” many entered the world of hedonism and excess as a way of escaping from the conditioned mind of those so lost that they continue to fall for the false narratives used to justify killing thousands if not millions of people in the fog of war while holding in the highest esteem those dropping the bombs.  

But most of these children who were once drop-outs have become sell-outs to the system over time.  Many have reverted to being Conservatives like their parents.  At this stage, it hardly matters, as the centerpiece philosophy of government security by the Left will lead to subjugation in the end even without the help of the warmongers.    

Perhaps it’s too painful to face the fact that your entire belief-system has been based upon lies.    Believe me, after waking up, the blood on our hands becomes more and more apparent.  Most would rather continue to support a corrupt system run by Satanic psychopaths that will only make matters worse than face the fact that they have been played for a fool for their entire lives.  But the truth is that they can never break free from this matrix until they do.  There are no exceptions to this other than certain myths taken literally turning meaningful stories into control systems.  

But there is a bright side to all of this.  Now we have an opportunity to find balance in our lives.  We live in the Age of Epiphany for those seeking answers but the only way to discover anything new is by questioning the programming of everything we have been taught.  Sacred cows must now be held up to the light of reality.  Never mind the justification given for their existence, ask yourself what they really accomplish from destabilizing countries including our own to creating a defeatist mentality as we continue to wait for the Savior that will be arriving on a mushroom cloud.    

Conservative parents need to give up on government lies about the reason for endless wars while their liberal children need to give up on government lies that the government will take care of them.

And when they do, they cease to be Conservatives and Liberals and begin to be individuals.  The possibilities are endless in creating a better world for ourselves if we have a nation of individuals with their own minds, living from the inside-out in their understanding of life.  

Otherwise, we will continue the path we’re currently on into oblivion.  Our rulers will continue to allow mob rule to grow to a point where we will welcome our oppressors as saviors, just like the poor souls in other countries who had no idea at the time that the devil they knew was much more preferable to what they were about to receive.    

It is a frightening prospect to cut loose from government dependency.  But that comes with evolving as a species and to stop allowing our differences to blind us from understanding that we have a common enemy, a malevolent entity that moves through all of their systems, all tied together by the Talmudic trash controlling the money supply. 

There would be no reason to continue my writing if I did not believe that a Golden Age awaits us.  Just as the evil ones will bide their time for hundreds, if not thousands of years before bringing their grand design to fruition, good people want to see a better world and know that they did something to contribute to that even when they have no one to come after them.  They want to leave humanity with some kind of future and an opportunity to experience true freedom, not buying into the next rendition of bullshit they feed us through our institutions.  

This is what gives life meaning.   If you can find something that will provide you with more meaning than wanting to live in a better world and doing what you can to make that happen, I would suggest that you pursue it until you understand its futility. 














Saturday, August 12, 2017

Goodbye Mom


My Mom passed away last month.  We were told by the doctors that it was one thing that she could overcome but later found out that it was another that she could not.  She was 82 years old.

We spent the latter part of our lives trying to save each other; she with her religion and me with my “spirituality.”   We were both mostly unsuccessful in our endeavors.

In the end, all we could do was love each other in spite of our differences.  And that we did.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

A God of Our Own Co-Creation


Would it be heretical to tell you that I’ve created my god based upon the lessons of my own life-experiences?  After all, everything else is really some sort of hand-me-down deity we are told to believe without question or suffer the consequences in this life as well as the next. 

Before dismissing this out of hand, let me tell you what my god is like compared to those found in religion. 

S/he is a balance of the divine masculine as well as the divine feminine.  The myth of the brutal god reveals a severe imbalance due to the lack of the divine feminine.  Those who would lose themselves in the New Age to hide from the responsibility of standing against our enslavers are an example of severe imbalance due to the lack of the divine masculine. 

As I see it, this entire machine of death is powered by these various religions.  They could not be sold to the fodder of these wars nor would they be allowed to continue without their influence.  But going from the fire of brutality to the dark waters of unaccountability is not the answer.

Life has shown us that we are co-creators in our world as our outer world reflects our inner level of consciousness.  If you wish to follow a religion that refuses to acknowledge your part in this misery that surrounds us that’s your business. 

But my god wants me to face the truth about myself and my condition, not grovel in the dirt of shame, rote memorization and ritualistic obeisance to a manufactured authority so I don’t have to take responsibility for my own behavior.    

My god wants me to use the brain I have been given and think for myself.  My god is not into human sacrifice of any kind as this is the behavior of a tyrant, a severely imbalanced and sadistic soul.  My god wants me to know that the gifts bestowed upon me were presented out of love and not meant to be turned into a weapon under threat.    

There’s a humility in understanding what we have received and a great sadness to watch humanity throw it all away by following a fear-based god run by a fear-based system used to dupe us into killing each other off. 

This is the future of religion.  It will either die by its own hand or fade away with the rest of the superstitions used to control humanity throughout the ages.  But something must take its place as this is the way we are put together.   

Let that something be of your own co-creation taken from your understanding of the life lessons you have received from Source for those seeking balance in their lives.  If you can’t bring yourself to do that, at least put your thoughts upon those who stood for something good in this life, rather than the tyrants that keep us at war with each other.

You will find that those who seek the truth will find their way to it.  The differences in the path that brought us here is what we are meant to add to the collective story.     

Thursday, May 18, 2017

Captain Chaos and His Minions of Hell


Will Trump be impeached for collusion with Russia?  How many dead bodies must Hillary crawl over to get back on top?  Will Bill O’Reilly replace Sean Spicer as Donald’s trump-et of lies?  Will any of this even matter after the balloon goes up?  Tune into the never-ending soap opera if you like.

I’m sorry, but American leaders working in collusion with Russian leaders, Israeli leaders, Saudi leaders and their various vassals throughout the world for global interests is old news.  The only thing being revealed is that the duplicity is now more out there in the open. 

The leaders of political parties we see at the highest levels are run by the same people we never see.  Therefore, I don’t particularly care what Captain Chaos and his minions of hell are up to these days, at least regarding their scripts.  It’s all part of the play, even if they impeach him.  Come to think of it, that would be a brilliant way to further intensify this destabilization program we now find ourselves in. And just in time for the Summer riots!

Of course, what makes the show so interesting is that the underlings are constantly being betrayed.  The patsy of the three-letter agency may be promised his freedom after playing his part in a false flag, but why risk keeping him around to talk?  The same goes for leaders in other countries, as allies of today become enemies of tomorrow.    

As for Trump, his character is old and dated.  It’s a scam that was never meant to last very long.  The snake-oil salesmen of the Old West knew when to get out of town before their lies caught up with them.  Trump has already been around too long and the revelations will continue.  Even in this society, I don’t think he can last.

What disturbs me is that this may have been the plan from the beginning.    

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Time After Time


As fate would have it, the patriot had survived the first wave of looters.  As he had surmised, after the climactic false-flag event and ensuing economic collapse, those controlling the government would, at first, leave the people to their own devices.  The beta-test of their response to Hurricane Katrina had told him that.   By the time the troops finally arrived, most were happy to trade their guns for food and protection from those of their own kind. 

But the patriot was not one of them.  Although he had prepared for all this, he knew that, if captured, he would be marched to the re-education camps where the sadistic scientific descendants of Project Paperclip could ply their trade upon him. 

As he saw the troops encroaching upon his property, the patriot knew it was the end.  He said a prayer to the universe to welcome him beyond the veil and racked a round into the chamber of his battle rifle.    

His world exploded in a blast of light as the thermal imaging that had guided the sniper and his bullet through the wall of his house had found its target.  The patriot had died instantly.

The funny thing was that those stories about near death experiences were true.  The patriot found himself above his own body watching the soldiers.  He had hoped it had been Chinese soldiers who had taken his life--but it was not.  One of them was kicking his body while another laughed.  The patriot laughed also.  They couldn’t hurt him anymore. 

But the sniper wasn’t laughing.  The shooting had done something to him.

The patriot didn’t know exactly where he was anymore.  He only knew that his greatest gift had accompanied him even after crossing over; the ability to grow in consciousness. 

Somehow, what had become of the sniper was always in the periphery of the patriot’s mind. He had seen how the sniper’s life had spiraled out of control since the day of his death.   

Soon after the shooting, the sniper got into a brawl at a bar.  His wife ended up leaving him as she could no longer handle his drunken rages.  He eventually lost his spot on the elite military team he had been on.  He could not get past the growing guilt.

The patriot wasn’t exactly sure where these glimpses he had of the sniper’s life came from.  But the tragic events were always known to him.   

The patriot watched the man who had once been a sniper sitting on his bed holding his handgun on his lap. 

At this moment, a woman in a flowing silk robe approached the patriot.  She was the first entity he had seen since his death.  The vision of the sniper with the gun remained in the background of his mind in a sort of suspended animation.  

“So, what do you think?” asked the woman.

“I don’t want him to take his own life,” said the patriot.

“Why not?” asked the woman.  “He took yours.”

“I don’t know,” said the patriot.  “He’s not what he used to be.  Maybe he will do some good for the resistance if he survives.”

“You want him to continue living?”

“Yes,” said the patriot.

“I’ll talk to him,” said the woman, disappearing from his sight. 

The vision of the sniper also vanished.  What replaced it were others he had never met.  They were with him here on the other side.  He knew intuitively that they too had been murdered. 

But the patriot soon realized that they couldn’t see him. “How did I get here?” asked the patriot to the woman who had now reappeared.  

In this realm, there are still a few veils that need to be pierced,” she said.  “When you asked that the life be spared of the man who murdered you, you graduated to the next level.  As you can see, you are not alone.”

“So, I’m being tested, even after death?”

“Only because you’ve made it this far,” the woman said.  “Sadly, most are not worth the effort as their inner journey ended while they were still in their body.  For many, their religions resulted in spiritual stagnation.  For others, the thirst for wealth and power altered their quest irrevocably.”

“But you put freedom above all else,” the woman continued.  “During the times in which you lived, doing anything else resulted in spiritual decay as all the institutions that the people served were corrupted at their core and resulted in systems of servitude.”

“With that being said, I have one more test for you before you can reach the next level,” she continued.

“What do you want of me?” the patriot asked.

“Are you willing to wait for him?” the woman asked.

“Who?  My killer?”

“Yes.”

“Wait for what?” the patriot asked.

The woman sighed.  “After the spirit departs from his body, he can never make it to the next level unless you accompany him.  And just to let you know, the man who shot you has done much for the cause of freedom.  And he has never used a gun again.” 

“How much time has passed since I died?” the patriot asked.

“Time here is not like it was in the dimension you left,” the woman said.

“What if the sniper had never changed his evil ways?” the patriot continued.

“Then you would not be given this test as he had chosen his way of life,” the woman said.

“So, the fate of his soul is in my hands?” the patriot asked.

“Not exactly,” the woman said.  “You can have an influence upon the karmic debt of your killer, but he must choose for himself whether to listen to me.  You see, I am your emissary in this cosmic communication.”

The patriot thought about his previous life and how for most of it his mind had been captured by both power-mongers and fools alike as well as the institutions he had so blindly served for so long.  He knew that he also could have been a traitor and a murderer had he not awakened from his spiritual slumber. 

“I will wait for him,” the patriot said.

“I’ll see what I can do,” said the woman who once again departed from him. 

Once he had made the decision, the other entities around him could now see him.  They were all waiting for their killers so they could accompany them on their eternal journey. 

Time being what it was there, they didn’t have long to wait.