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THE DEATH REVERSAL CORPORATION (excerpt) January 6, 2013

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horus_1

I know that they’ve retrieved high-profile people before. Apparently the technology – albeit in a crude form, has been around since the mid 1960’s – in fact there is a persistent rumour that the very first Celebrity retrieval was none other than Paul McCartney back in ’67.
Seems the Conspiracy-theorists were right about the car-crash – except he wasn’t replaced by a doppelganger – rather, the Tavistock Institute who had developed the first chair, in collusion with some shadowy State Agency somehow managed to send a Shaman successfully over to retrieve him.
The mission was a great success by all accounts. The Fab Four were reunited and everything was fine with Macca – barring a few technical blips, which would manifest years later in aberrations such as The Frog Chorus and Silly Love Songs….
That first Retriever has since become the stuff of legend, an almost mythical figure within the DRC. Problem was, he went and died a year later, in 1968. And despite their best efforts, Tavistock never found a capable replacement. After sitting empty decade after decade, eventually DRC (The De Reiss Corporation – later nick-named The Death Retrieval Corporation by recruits) acquired the chair in1995, or thereabouts. They spent a good fifteen years scouring the earth for potential retrievers – Psychics mainly, but also Shamans – at least those they could locate in the last few pockets left on earth that had not been cleared by the rampant Bulldozers of Civilisation. Yet all were either unwilling or unable to retrieve souls.
And it seemed the fate of Tavistock would be revisited upon DRC, until…they found me.

*The Death Reversal Corporation and it’s sequel: Limousines of The Gods will be published soon*

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EGO-MELTDOWN IN THE AGE OF APOCALYPSE December 30, 2012

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‘A double minded man is unstable in all his ways’

So here we are, in the days and weeks that follow the failed apocalypse.
Except—–
Are we? —And was it?

December 21st 2012, the media now gleefully tells us, was yet another in a long-line of doomsday-events that failed to materialise.
The irony being, of course, it was no such thing. The Mayans never predicted doomsday; the Hopi’s never did, nor the Hindu’s, nor David Icke, nor——well, you get the picture. -It was of course the media themselves who spun it thus.
But yet again, they fail to see, let alone report upon the bigger story, and the bigger story contains the greatest irony of all: for it is they who will finally face their own self-created version of armaggedeon; it is they who will no doubt feel the force of the passing of the age that has for so long defined them, that has fed and inflated their ego’s: And it is their very ego’s that shall be their ultimate undoing, making them blind to the fact that The Age of Materialism is slipping over the horizon like the closing scene to a Hannah Barbara cartoon——–‘That’s all folks!’

But this is on the macro-scale, what about on a day-to-day micro-level?–

Well, personally I can obviously only talk from my own experience and standpoint. But from where I’m standing at the moment I am seeing signs of an ongoing unfolding total meltdown amongst, well – just about everyone who remains resolutely wedded to their own ego. And I’m talking catastrophc, reactor-3 scale meltdowns. Just about everyone that I know who could be described as ego-centric (whether by nature or design) seems to be in the midst of an existential (i.e. soul-less) meltdown. And these meltdown incidences have all occured in the run-up to, or in the wake of this most portentious of Winter Solstice’s. Coincidence?

It brings to mind the quote from The Gospel of Thomas:

If you bring forth that which you have within you, it will save you.
If you do not, it will destroy you.

It is sad to say but it surely cannot be coincidence that those who have buried their souls beneath a blizzard of material goods and designer-definers- the same people who have always steadfastly refused to turn inward as opposed to outward for salvation – are precisely the ones right now lashing out, going mad, having mid-life-crises and ultimately seeking salvation within ego-self-gratification – which they resolutley fail to recognise is the very source of the misery they now feel.

So it seems to me – from my admittedly unscientific and unquantifiable viewpoint – that the Mayans (and the Hindu’s and the Hopi’s etc) were spot on when they pinpointed this time as signalling the end of the disconnected, destructive, materialistic, war-like age. And of course, the disconnected, destructive, materialistic, war-like media are singularly ill-placed to report on their own imminent demise. Hence their projection of the end-of-the-world. So whilst the smug wits on panel-shows poke fun at the handful of sheep who fled to the mountains of France and bunkers in Utah—-many of us have noted the ultimate irony: it is contained within the dread-word itself: Apocalypse – the true definition of which is unveiling, or unmasking – or as Wikipedia puts it:

apocalypse (Ancient Greek: ἀποκάλυψις apocálypsis, from ἀπό and καλύπτω meaning ‘un-covering’), translated literally from Greek, is a disclosure of knowledge, hidden from humanity in an era dominated by falsehood and misconception, i.e., a lifting of the veil or revelation

Blimey! No wonder they altered that definition.

And this unmasking (or lifting of the veil) is precisely what we’re seeing now, before our very eyes. And it signifies, for those who seek only control and self-satisfaction, the greatest doomsday scenario of all – if they could but see it – for it whispers of their own demise:
We are witnessing a true bonfire of the vanities; a worldwide ego-meltdown; an end to ‘bending nature to our will’; a stop to the endless wars of occupation and plunder; an end to the fork-tongued leaders and their media-mouthieces; the end of Orwellian double-speak where Hate is Love and Freedom means War, an end to the hectoring cheerleaders for a Tyrannical God as well as the stout defenders of a purely Mechanical Universe; an end to self-indulgent triviality over a deeply-felt oneness with the land and all the inhabitants of the land —- an end to all this.

So, when all is said and done – I have to say: okay then, bring it on. Bring on the Apocalypse – and let the masks fall where they will.

Lots of love, and Happy New Era everyone – and as Rumi said:

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
There is a field.
I will meet you there.

BED TIME STORIES FOR THE PERMANENTLY PERPLEXED December 19, 2012

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'Hello Georgie - fancy a game of 'cards'?

‘Hello Georgie – fancy a game of ‘cards’?

For those who have placed their faith in the machine – these are trying times.
The narrative is fracturing and splintering: the world seems unfathomable and random, brutal and bafflingly just plain wrong – and it is wrong of course, but for these people it is best not to question why it is wrong, best not to even attempt to lay the blame at the door of those whose task it is to supposedly serve us, to govern our affairs.
And weirdly, these same people who bemoan the state of the world do not wish to seek answers as to why exactly everything seems to be so consistently falling apart.

Quite simply, the people who resolutely trust in -and thus enable- the machine, well, they are being traumatised – and ironically, they still keep looking to their positioned leaders to guide their emotions – despite the fact that their leaders are quite obviously emotionless self-serving beings. Witness Obama’s amazing tearless crying in response to the latest (possibly programmed) massacre:

Not a dry eye in the house: well, apart from President Obama’s resolutely dry-eyes obviously; for this is what the ‘believers’ refuse to see – that the men and women of power can only ape the basic human emotions of empathy. It plays well with the public; it helps their political standing, and that is the bottom-line. -Nothing else.

But the real questions that should be asked of this terrible shooting are not asked. Once again, the narrative is fixed, and not one so-called journalist in the Western World can be bothered to ask what anti-psychotic meds these ‘lone-gunmen’ are all on; none can be bothered to even track down their therapists (who at the very least have evidently done a pretty shitty job of helping these troubled kids); so god forbid we even go down the route of Mind-controlled assassins – that’s la-la land, the province of loopy conspiracy-theorists – best to stick with the cliché-ridden ‘official reports’ that ask no questions, that provide no answers – best to trust to television reporters who descend en masse like a parasitical swarm upon the scenes of tragedy, and who, to a man and woman offer the same lazy platitudes in their own feeble approximations of human empathy.

Don’t ask questions.

And if these questions go unasked, then what hope is there?
And why are the deaths of some children so readily termed ‘tragedies’ and yet the deaths of other children simply ignored?
As Voltaire so famously said: ‘those who can make you believe absurdities, can make you commit atrocities’ -well, maybe we, ourselves don’t personally commit atrocities, but we certainly condone them when we unthinkingly support the murderous regimes who govern us – for as many have pointed out, why are no tears shed for the brown-skinned children who are systematically torn apart by remotely-guided drone rockets in impoverished lands? It seems that State-sanctioned acts of terror are acceptable – regrettable yes, but necessary –to those who don’t question at least.

Finally, with all the talk of mass-shootings and violent video-games, I was reminded of a piece of grotesque television that was broadcast a few years back. It was presented by the eternally-pleased with himself mind-magician, Derren Brown. In this clip he quite merrily traumatises a young man by sending him into a trance via an arcade game, and getting him to shoot so-called real-life ‘zombies’: A perfect illustration of how to create a mind-controlled assassin? —

DEATH OF A VAMPIRE November 17, 2012

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For far too long we have lived under the rule of the Parasite.
For too long the Parasite has dictated to us who we are and what we are capable of.
For too long the Parasite has ruled over a mental wasteland of his own creating.

And in order to make us subservient to his twisted aims of total spectrum dominance the parasite has poisoned the waters, infected our minds with his own perversities and denied the existence of anything beyond the corporeal body-state, whilst simultaneously launching a never ending vicious and ruthless war against the human soul he repeatedly informs us does not exist.
He has, bit-by-bit removed the free-thinker, the philosopher, the wise man from centre-stage; replaced him with a gibbering, fame-obsessed body fixated retard, and held this idiot up as a role-model. And many have aped the self-concerned moron, even tried to outdo him on the stupidity-stakes, hoping that by simply being more stupid, more vain, more sexually-deviant, they will rise to the same stage as their parasitically-created hero. And yet –

‘Imagination is a glimpse of the divine’
William Blake

-These insipid mimics fail to realise that fame is not democratic. It is an orchestrated spell intended to take us away from our own potentialities. It is a closed-club, existing only to offer us a ready-made escape mechanism, its ultimate aim is to restrict our innate desire to self-create, and utilise the endless possibilities of our potentially-boundless imaginations.
We are prisoners of the limitations set for us by our parasitical, self-appointed master.
In order to transcend our limitations all we have to do is realise that our master is not like us, despite the illusion of superiority, he is, by definition a ridiculous inferior.
His only strength is his psychotically-relentless pursuit of self-advancement. Having sapped our desires to self-advance is it any wonder that he has the power to dominate us?
It is merely our surrender that makes us slaves.

‘The greedy, ugly people are not like us,
They don’t feel the love,
That she and I would die without’
Hefner.

And as for those life-affirming sensations of intense bliss and contentment – the sense of ‘outrageous good-fortune’ that breaks through our lives oh too rarely, and yet when it does, whispers to us of a divine truth long-forgotten – well, once we come to the realisation that the Parasite is incapable of such life-affirming feelings, that he is in fact completely devoid of empathy and contentment, then we realise the tragedy of his existence – the sheer, hollow ringing emptiness of a man who denies the existence of the human soul, chiefly because it is absent in himself.

Suddenly, upon this realisation, we begin to see the man behind the curtain. A man who best befits the old saying: ‘The small man cuts off the heads of others, in order to make himself seem taller’.
-Then, if we have any autonomy left at all, we refuse to stand in line for the chopping-block. Or to revert to an earlier metaphor, we refuse to continue offering our necks to the vampire.
And there is a reason that myth says that a vampire has to be willingly invited into your home in order to drain your energies and feed off of your life-force: we must first acquiesce to our own surrender. In order for the vampire/parasite to hold dominion over our souls, we must first give our permission.

But here’s the good part—-in the last years, months, weeks, days…the Parasite has been exposed on so many fronts for the vile predator that he is. Each day brings another revelation. And with each revelation a thousand more souls reawaken from the drugged slumber he has held them under. We are in the middle of the much-anticipated ‘acceleration’ that Terence McKenna and Robert Anton Wilson and countless others had predicted and expected. It is happening right now.
The masks are falling to the floor, the internet is uniting like-minded souls across the globe, and in doing so is de-facto releasing the souls themselves, and the internet is merely the forerunner, moving us toward an understanding of our true oneness. It is an important step towards the soon-to-occur Unification of the Cosmic Mind, which will open the way for a telepathic-interconnectedness that will ultimately shrug the vampire from our necks, and reduce the parasite to dust.
You can feel it now.
Among the debris of a tumbling, crumbling Empire of Lies, you can feel it.
Despite the day-to-day sordid revelations and exposes of the Predator’s vile and endlessly deceitful practices, you inwardly know that these are merely the death throes, the dying gasps of the Vampire Parasite whose long-held claims to immortality are being exposed for the lie they always were.
There is another myth about the Vampire; he withers and dies when exposed to the full glare of sunlight.
Well, an awakened populace will burn with the strength of a thousand suns.
So you better look out Parasite —
Coz we are the light.

HOW 9/11 LAUNCHED A COSMIC WAVE October 25, 2012

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It seems this was the plan: in one fell swoop, with the President safely tucked away in Florida – pretending to be charmed by some tiny school-children – the air-defense system would stand down, thus enabling devastating attacks upon the financial center, the military heart, and the seat of government. In effect it was a 3-for-1 situation in which some form of martial-law-emergency-lockdown would have to then be introduced by the American Government. But, ultimately it failed. Not everything went to plan: the bombs planted under the George Washington bridge were discovered and mistakenly announced on the News; there were the conspicuously joyful dancing Israeli’s, who in their own words were ‘just there to observe’; building 7 fell, even though it wasn’t hit (though it did destroy all the evidence of the missing billions from the Pentagon budget); and seemingly, the plane headed for the White House was shot out of the sky, thus denying the traitors their biggest scalp: The White House.

But it failed on another level too; a more fundamental level. They thought the carefully-orchestrated attacks would immobilize the American public; send them in to subservient spasms of terror; and subsequently they would grant their government any powers they so desired in return for protection: ‘Please protec’ me sah, oh please protec’ me!’. And to a certain extent, this happened. But I think that something else, something far more fundamental was destroyed by those planes (or missiles) that day: —-Faith in the system.

If we understand the term ‘occult mega-ritual’ to mean a global-wide spell cast upon the unsuspecting public, then the spell backfired. If we understand the term ‘occult’ to mean hidden, then it had the reverse effect – they overplayed their hand and in doing so they inadvertently showed it: On September 11, they crashed the illusion.

The Occult mega-ritual in effect tore through the collective consciousness; it didn’t so much traumatise as smash a huge gaping hole through our realities. And through the smoking debris we began to glimpse the workings of the matrix of illusion that lay behind it.

In retrospect I believe that 12th September 2001 was the day the world began to awaken from its soma-induced sleep.

I, like many others had been searching for something up to this point – I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I was looking. I had become tired of Noam Chomsky. Although I couldn’t articulate it back then, I’d begun to perceive the futility of his very narrow line of attack. I had come to realise the uselessness of Chomsky and co. merely barking from the side-lines, especially when they still retained an inter-dependent relationship with the very establishment they always claimed to despise.

For me, 9/11 tore a great gaping hole in Noam Chomsky’s credibility when he dismissed out of hand any and all so-called conspiracy-theories. In fact, thereafter the subject of 9/11 became a handy litmus-test: basically any pundit, intellectual or commentator who denied even the possibility of (at the very least) US Government collusion in the attacks was quite simply not worthy of any attention. Of course this litmus test resulted in virtually all of them being deemed untrustworthy. -Whoops! Now millions of people, in one fell-swoop lost their faith in the messengers as well as their chiefs.

So were I to chart my path of awakening, it would show a sudden spike on and around 9/11/2001, and a gradual steady upward path ever since, right up to the present day.

In the wake of 9/11 I began to read a lot of philosophy, and a lot of deep, reality-challenging stuff, I read and read like I was revising for an exam that was still a good decade or so off (maybe with the finals due in late December 2012?) – and funnily enough, only recently have I allowed myself the luxury of reading novels simply for entertainment again. My learning’s far from done; my awakening is still not complete. After all, as the saying goes: ‘the wise man knows that he knows nothing’ – but the thorough self-taught crash-course doesn’t feel quite so urgent any more. In a way I think the feeling of urgency over the past decade was the realisation that I had to retrain my mind – open it up to new possibilities – dispose of the censor in the head, and learn to dismiss nothing out of hand – no matter how difficult or painful.

Yet whilst opening the mind, I remained aware that it is also important not to take anyone else’s word as Gospel Truth (An interesting phrase ‘Gospel truth’ when you consider the Gospels themselves were heavily edited and redacted by the Council of Nicea in 315 A.D.). Anyway-

I’ve found my own truth, but it’s not a fixed thing. It’s a process. But it’s more than that; it’s also a form of liberation. I wrote a book about a Cosmic Wave that, as it approached from outer-space began to cleanse all the poison from the world; celebrity melted down, the political system collapsed and people feared the worst – but ultimately the wave was a cleansing; a rebirth. The book is satirical, (hopefully) funny, but the compulsion I felt to write it was driven by an innate understanding that it was at the centre of its heart – true. This is happening now; the wave may not be a physical event, but it’s hitting us this very moment.

So, I guess the question I should ask myself is: Am I ready yet to surf the cosmic wave?

– Well, at the end of the day, who the hell knows really? -I guess only time will tell.

But you know what they say: it aint about the destination, it’s all about the journey. And if I were to be asked when exactly my journey began, it would of course be hard to pinpoint exactly – but due to the shattering acceleration that took part on 9/11, I think I would have to say
— September 12th 2001:
Yes, that was the day of my awakening.

-The book ‘Behold the Cosmic Wave’ is available as an ebook from Amazon, and in paperback from Lulu.com

THE TICK OF TIME October 18, 2012

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‘Life is the childhood of our immortality’ – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

It seems clear to me that the greatest stumbling block to us achieving our wondrous potentiality is the continuously reinforced notion of the second law of thermodynamics – a universal theory which states and I quote:

-Everything ultimately falls apart and disintegrates over time. Material things are not eternal. Everything appears to change eventually and chaos increases. Everything ages and wears out. Even death is a manifestation of this law.

Which is quite interesting as the theory of evolution basically states the opposite, that over eons of time, billions of things are supposed to have developed upward, becoming more orderly and complex. –But I digress.

We are constantly reminded that everything dies: all becomes ash carried upon the air, and whilst this is evidently true within the physical realm, what if the true essence of us, that which the scientists cannot quantify or dissect – i.e. the human soul – is in fact immortal? Imagine if we were to truly understand this, how would the control-system cope with a planet full of self-aware immortals? Answer: It couldn’t, it would collapse (which being a materialist creation would make sense, given the 2nd law of thermodynamics – ha!)

There is an old Muslim saying: ‘When death approaches it is terrible. When it reaches you it is bliss’.
And indeed, I remember an old documentary on a South London hospice in which one of the nurses told of how on numerous occasions, at the very moment of death they had noticed a look of what could only be described as divine ecstasy pass across the face of the patient.

So what if that very thing we fear: that ever-present if seldom acknowledged dark shadow with the scythe is in fact an indicator of a great and wondrous liberation from the shackles of the physical realm – to a state of being in which the only limits to our worlds are the limits imposed by our own minds?
Would that not indicate that this, here and now is merely the training ground for our eternal souls to follow? And then, could not Death itself, as exemplified by the Grim Reaper, whilst often depicted as a terrifying apparition, be in fact something else entirely: Perhaps the Great Liberator? Joseph Campbell explained, in reference to Shiva, how appearances can indeed be deceptive:

‘Shiva’s dance is the universe. In his hair is a skull and a new moon, death and rebirth at the same moment, the moment of becoming. In one hand he has a little drum that goes tick-tick-tick. That is the drum of time, the tick of time which shuts out the knowledge of eternity. We are enclosed in time. But in Shiva’s opposite hand there is a flame which burns away the veil of time and opens our minds to eternity’.

-‘The tick of time which shuts out the knowledge of eternity’ – wow! -The tyranny of the clock; the artifice of time which enslaves us all. In short, he is talking of this material realm through which most of us pass through as little more than sleepwalkers. –Or maybe even automatons. As described so brilliantly by T S Eliot in The Waste Land:

Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.

Ah, that final line: the dead sound on the final stroke of nine – there’s that tick of time again!

Joseph Campbell (yes, him again) described the meaning of the Waste Land, and its message for humanity far better than I could ever hope to when he told Bill Moyers:

“The theme of the Grail romance is that the land, the country, the whole territory of concern has been laid waste. It is called a wasteland. And what is the nature of the wasteland? It is a land where everybody is living an inauthentic life, doing as other people do, doing as you’re told, with no courage for your own life. That is the wasteland. And that is what T. S. Eliot meant in his poem The Wasteland”.

The people Eliot describes in these lines are all asleep, and, yes, sure these automatons gazing at their shoes (or I-Pads or Blackberries – whatever) are still there, we see them every day – but let’s be honest, they are never going to awaken, they don’t want to – who knows, maybe they’re not reached that part of their own particular cycle yet. But something incredible is happening now: just think of this site you’re looking at now, a meeting-place for like-minded souls by like-minded-souls, offering the opportunity for us to communicate our own personal awakenings; communities of awakened and awakening souls. It’s pretty incredible, is it not?

Sometimes there is a natural impatience with the world, and the oft-heard refrain: ‘But what can I do?’

The answer is: ‘Stay awake’. For, after all, isn’t that all that really matters?
For once you have awoken to your own immortality; the perceived world begins to dissipate anyway. So why change an illusion? Our own transformations have a transformative effect upon the world. Our awakening is a rebirth, and through our own particular rebirths, the world is reborn too.

Tick-tick-tick…the tick of time, the final strike of nine – it’s all an illusion.

THE JUDGES IN THE HEAD October 16, 2012

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Welcome to the crazy world of please-make-me-famous.
It is a world in which we all believe that our lives are only given meaning and validaty by a self-appointed panel of judges who, with the aid of their combined wisdom, weigh up whether we are worthy of their time. Thus do we willing offer ourselves up, ripe and ready for exploitation.
What better metaphor is there for our reliance upon others to decide whether our lives have any discernible meaning?
What better metaphor is there for our reliance upon others to decide whether our lives have any discernible meaning?
And the illusion persists that if only we want it, if we simply desire it enough, with every fibre of our being, then we may just get it. Sample conversation:

CONTESTANT: I want this a hundred and twenty-five per cent –
JUDGE: -Well maybe that’s not enough.

Witness the crushed and inconsolable who don’t make it through to the next-round of The X-Factor, or Pop Idol or Britain’s got/ America’s Got/ Finland’s Got – Talent; the contestants who prostrate themselves before sociopathic egoists like Simon Cowell – they are little more than pathetic imitators who have been led to believe that, whilst not possessing any discernible talent as such, then at least possessing a will to succeed should be enough – wrong. You see, poor contestant: you’re just a resource for them; and the chances are your crushed dreams will be the images they just happen to need for their relentless worldwide franchise bullshit for the eyes. It is a miasma for the brain; deliberately consciousness sapping and spiritually-demeaning.
‘Oh please give me a chance; I really need this – I can do better, I can’- they wail; prostrating themselves before these purveyors of shit, as if they are divine kings and queens, god-like in their proclamations, the finality of their decisions carrying the same illusory weight as a fifteenth century Pope. Elimination is excommunication – once you’re gone, you’re finished – out alone to face the wrath of non-celebrity-dom. -Damned to an eternity of obscurity.
But what exactly is it they want, these people who are willing to prostrate themselves before 3rd-rate, dead-eyed, ex-members of manufactured pop bands? –Who are these people that can’t grasp the simple fact that there is nothing bigger than a hundred per cent (there is no 125 per cent -a hundred per cent is the total, dick-head) – who are they?
Fuel for the fire is what they are: Fuel for the never-ending Bonfire of the Vanities, a manufactured eternal flame that must never be snuffed-out; and if they can burn Michael Jackson, then what chance for a fat kid from Birmingham who can barely hold a note? –’Go on, take him out back and throw him on the fire, and remember to give it a good stoke’!
And what is it they so desperately want these contestants: Money, recognition, acknowledgement? – Talent and artistry seemingly don’t have a place in all this. The back-catalog of great songs to be plundered is endless, and now they’re covering already inferior covers of songs and nobody even knows or cares from whence these very songs emerged (not from talent shows that’s for sure). Imitation is definitely not the sincerest form of flattery when it comes to this Industry. The long-dead Craftsmanship of the likes of Gerry Goffin/Carole King and Hal David/Burt Bacharach exists only as a source for plunder. The source has been lost within a highly-synthesised never ending echo-chamber; and the echo gets weedier and more ghostly with each repetition. Cowell and his ilk are parasites, predators who feed upon the easily-led and chronically undemanding.

And as for the mega-stars themselves: They are merely the egotists-Supreme, fad-attached and desperately seeking sensation.
Yet even they are not content with their ultimate-stardom or the acres of gossip devoted to them or the endless multiples of tens of millions that keeps pouring in. Those that don’t crash and burn under the weight of their own guilt, or are rendered mentally-unstable by the total lack of meaning in their empty cavorting’s have begun to dedicate themselves to ill-informed and chronically-naive proclamations regarding famine, war, and politics. Many of the views they espouse just happen to be in lock-step with their predatory controllers, thus they (either inadvertently or very calculatedly) play their own part in furthering a geo-political, neo-conservative/neo-liberal pro-Zionist agenda.

-Madonna’s recent on-stage striptease (sigh, not again Madge) – ‘shockingly’ revealed her latest temporary tattoo: The name of a Pakistani girl who was shot by the Taliban. This of course begged the question (a question unasked by the compliant media): Here Madonna, why not cover the whole of your aging body with the names of Pakistani girls killed by American Predator Drones?
– But of course, the tattoo is temporary, as is her concern; the only cause that she ultimately and consistently champions is herself after all.
I guess the one benefit to growing older (other than the deeply unfashionable acquisition of wisdom), will be the privilege of witnessing the likes of Madonna – a body-fixated, ego-inflated superstar – having to suffer the indignity of impending mortality – I’m guessing she won’t cope with it gracefully .

-But of course, by then, there will be other younger models for the deeply unhappy cave-dwellers to imitate.
Currently at the head of the trailing pack there is Lady Ga Ga – as equally self-absorbed and given over to empty sensation as her mentor. Two years back she went all ‘political’ – (not in the John Lennon sense of course) – the passion that stoked her fire was the burning issue of Gay Rights in the Military: Bravo, applauded the media, under the guise of equal-rights, you are fighting for two-thirds of your fan-base to be killed in the never ending American Petro-dollar wars.
But perhaps the greatest offenders when it comes to making ill-judged and ill-earned political judgements are the denizens of Hollywood:
(ahem) -Angelina Jolie as United Nations Special Envoy anyone? – At the moment Mrs Pitt is working assiduously on behalf of the UN, doing her bit to ensure we get yet another ‘intervention’ in the Mid-east, Syria this time – no doubt these visits have to be scheduled around her filming scenes for the upcoming the big-screen version of Mr Ed.

Back in 2006, it was the delightful Nicole Kidman, who was so moved to action she flew out to Israel – the only nuclear-capable nation in the Middle East – whereupon she bravely spoke out against the subjugation of the Palestinian peoples, in particular she warned against the soon-to-be-deployed white phosphorous missiles that Israel possessed in vast number, and Israel’s policy of deliberate targeting of children….oh, sorry, that’s not quite right: No, she spoke out against the terrorism of Hezbollah, yeah, that’s it.
I’m guessing that for Kidman this was a burning issue, it wouldn’t have been because many of the film executives, Producers and indeed heads of studios in Hollywood have – how can one put it these days – a certain sympathetic attitude to Israel (?) – Nah, surely not. I mean, why wouldn’t you accept an invite to a conference headed by that great humanitarian, Rupert Murdoch? –I’m sure the likes of James Woods and Ridley Scott and Bruce Willis would also have loved to have been in attendance, but hey, they had to make do with signing a much-needed petition in support of poor old Israel.
There is a point to all this barely-concealed ranting, and the point is this:
Who would want to be famous, really? –To spend your whole life in the company of these sociopathic self-serving, spiritually-bereft and empty-headed egocentrics?
Can you even imagine what it must feel like to only have your life validated by the sheer perceived size of your fame, to be totally defined by self-body-identification? These people that many people aspire to be are without doubt the least among us.

Although it’s easy to laugh at celebrity, and perhaps even easier to laugh at the desperate hopefuls on America’s Got Talent, or The X-Factor, aren’t most of us, to one degree or another hampered by internal judges – whether they be our peers, our parents, our bosses, or our teachers? Imagine if we unshackled and threw off the mind forg’d manacles, if we stopped performing for others – better still, imagine if Madonna threw a concert and nobody showed up.
Now that’s a happy thought.

THE PREDATOR AND THE DRONE October 10, 2012

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One of the big news stories here in the UK at the moment surrounds a recently-deceased kids TV Presenter – amidst much media brouhaha he has suddenly and ‘shockingly’ been exposed as a predatory career-paedophile. The biggest shock of this story, however, has been that other well-known celebrities, who all the time knew of his unfettered penchant for young girls, were so concerned about their own careers that, over a period of three decades, they neglected to expose him. One such celebrity, Esther Rantzen was the inspiration for and the very public face of Child-line, an abuse hotline for kids. –Thus it is becoming self-evident that in this tawdry world of surface sparkle, even acts that once seemed selfless are tarnished. I am constantly reminded of the quote from Terence McKenna:

Culture is not your friend .

Indeed. For as terrible and depressing as all this is, it is also very telling – it is merely one manifestation of the Predator-Culture that is endemic throughout and very probably essential to, what we are laughingly told is our civilised society.
Maybe McKenna’s words need a little tweak:

Civilisation is not your friend.

For this must be the lesson learnt, surely: that Civilisation is in and of itself, predatory. It relies upon war and plunder. Whether it be the great cathedrals to vain gods or the temples to mammon: they are all built upon the subjugation and misery of others. And the cakes and circuses that are utilised to dull the minds and shackle the spirits are now poisoning the very minds and bodies of the Citizens. It’s like a parody of the last days of Rome.

And talking of Rome, a few weeks back I was lucky to pay a visit to the wonderful self-proclaimed Eternal City.
Whilst I was, of course, amazed at the sheer size and grandeur of The Colloseum and the once-great Port of Ostia Attica, I was also equally amazed by the sheer scale of many of the American tourists who visited there.
Truly it seemed to me, there is a new race emerging: they are bloated, barely mobile manifestations of a culture that stuffs itself upon the modern-day plunder and subjugation of other cultures, and are truly a sight to behold. Trust me, they are a new breed of human, seemingly in the process of eating themselves to death; engorging themselves simply because they can.
It seems a perfect metaphor for the Predator Culture which their country so enthusiastically embraces.

At the beginning of Fellini’s La Dolce Vita there is an opening shot of a statue of Jesus Christ being airlifted over the great Italian City. Nowadays it would be more apt to shoot the sequence featuring a 20-stone American tourist being airlifted over Rome, the perhaps the soon-to-be only option left to them should they actually desire to go see the sites.

Of course, I am aware that these grossly overweight tourists are not representative of their nation’s citizens as a whole: Rather they are emblematic of something far greater: America’s slow and ugly descent into unfettered self-indulgence; and its inevitable soon-to-occur ultimate demise. They are merely perfect manifestations of the current Empire Supreme which has fed for so long upon the misery of half-the-world. The fact that airliners are now compelled to fix larger seats in order to accommodate this new breed of Super-Size-Me-Junk-Consumer is a mere symptom of a far wider problem (if you’ll pardon the pun). The Super Fatties are victims too: Victims of poisoned, non-nutritious, highly addictive foods. Victims too, of a society that is based purely upon consumption and acquisition. – Surely they are totems, portents of an Empire waddling into its final phase (whereupon, inevitably, the Great Parasite ultimately and fatally feeds upon itself).

And yet, millions of us are now belatedly realising that we don’t have to go down with the sinking-ship, we don’t have to embrace this predator culture – a culture in which creatures devoid of any semblance of empathy feed off the misery of ill-educated and otherwise forgotten people.
By way of illustration, take a look at this clip to remind yourself of the abhorrent nature and predatory instincts inherent in our so-called mainstream news.

Notice the way the so-called journalist’s only instinct is the opportunity for what she believes to be one of those Television Golden Moments; she is completely devoid of any empathy for the poor people who are already beside themselves with grief and worry. She was by all accounts completely wrong-footed by the Twitter-storm that engulfed her following this predatory interview. People were outraged that the child’s murder should be exploited in such a way. But this clip now exists as a perfect representation of the media predator.

–The beast is essentially a feeding thing. Oh yes, it has many faces, all of them human, and it has endearing manners as well. But those human graces are a camouflage born of necessity – they are the disguise that enables the beast to prevail
– Barbara E. Hort – Unholy Hungers (Encountering the Psychic Vampire in Ourselves and Others).

The culture of news media (from whence Kay Burley was spawned) regularly reinforces the notion of the feckless Underclass, reporting only upon their existence in relation to their burden upon our great and good society. As the system slowly collapses in upon itself, it is not the true instigators of the collapse – the financial robber-barons – who are being targeted by our fearless reporters, but the recipients of the Welfare State; gleefully depicted by the so-called journalists as a great drain upon our otherwise perfect society – and yet: when a child murder has been committed in their midst, Kay Burley and her media Predator Drones gleefully descend upon their housing estates, trampling all over their tiny gardens in the hope of the best grief-shot. If that’s not predatory, I don’t know what is.
It’s become so obvious now that millions are opting out of the Predator Culture.
The Myth of Civilisation is broken.
The age of the Predator is done, just like Jimmy Saville and the myth surrounding him is now done. He perhaps perfectly exemplified the false-projection of cultivated celebrity, the true tawdriness behind the bling and baubles.
And the lesson is this:
If we allow ourselves to be created and shaped by others, we cannot complain when they mold us according to their own predatory needs. The result of their moldings will inevitably be ugly, comic, and grotesque.
Our Civilisation is now filled with pale-imitators, predators and grotesques – and yet….
..It is also filled with brilliant, unique beings whose pure originality far exceeds the pouting, preening prima-donnas who regularly fill our screens.
It bears repeating over and over again that salvation cannot be found externally, salvation can only come from within.
As Thomas Szaz so rightly put it:
The Self is not something one finds, it is something one creates.

WE ARE THE GOLDEN AGE October 2, 2012

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In order to control us, they must first convince us.

The current control-grid offers an illusion of two-fold choice, as exemplified by the phoney-democratic process. To underpin this bogus illusion of democracy there has to be a bigger choice, a choice of fundamental belief in exactly who we are, where we came from, and where we’re going.

So they offer us either the Neo-Darwinian scientific model, or the Monotheistic Religious model: both of which offer us nothing, both of which resolutely deny the uniqueness and yet interconnectedness of individual consciousness. Both of which are prisons.

And yet with each day that now passes, cutting-edge Science itself confounds the rigidity of both these philosophies – with each new journeying into the building blocks of matter, scientists are discovering that fundamentally we create our own realities. This corresponds with the ancient occultic belief-systems that the Powers-that-be have marginalised for so long. After all, as William Blake said, ‘Imagination is a glimpse of the divine’.

This would explain the urgent need for our perception of reality to be guided and warped by the controllers, the programmers. In order to exert control they must keep us locked into these prisons of perception.

Thus we are offered perpetual and insignificant distraction, in order to keep us locked in and unaware of our divine aspect. Once we surrender to these distractions then truly we become the cave-dwellers of Plato’s tale, mistaking the flickering shadows upon the wall for reality itself.

But something is changing, we all sense it…..

For it seems without doubt, at this moment in time, that the carefully-constructed millennia-old control grid is crumbling.

Control has always been faith-based, and faith in this previously unassailable machine is now eroding at breakneck speed.

Every day seems to bring more news of Elite lies and corruption. It no longer elicits shock; we have grown to expect it. Our faith in the system is dying.

Our so-called Leaders overplayed their hands with their wanton desire to invade Iraq under the pretence of WMD’s. No one can deny that particular orgy of bloodshed was sold on a lie. This was perhaps the tipping-point. It called into question everything – from 9/11 to the relentless ‘uprisings’ in the Middle-East. The odious pygmy-manipulator behind the curtain has now been exposed (if not entirely unmasked), and the media mouthpieces for this arch-manipulator have also now been exposed for what they are: mere propagandists for the Great Lie.

Just look at the phenomenon that is David Icke. He was an object of ridicule a little over a decade ago, now he packs out mega-stadiums across the globe. He hasn’t changed. We have.

You see, for so long they kept us locked into their carefully-constructed paradigm (fixed us with those mind-forged manacles), and we were blissfully-unaware, self-regulating entities bound by peer-group pressure and a fear of ridicule.

But now a sizeable mass have broken free of the bonds of mental and spiritual oppression. Everything, now, is questioned. -Everything. Our leaders are little more than objects of ridicule or targets for our spite; the smear-jobs and hit-pieces on our television screens no longer impinge upon us, they pass with at best a shake of the head or a rolling of the eyes, and with each new hit-piece their propagandist agenda is further revealed.

Make no mistake: They are losing the propaganda war.

We are finally seeing the glorious possibility of our true selves.

And once we do: once we fully realise that our very essence, our soul, our divine consciousness is both unique and eternally cosmically interconnected – and once we finally, fundamentally, recognise that death is but a passing dream – then the tenuous hold they have over us will be finally and permanently released. And each of us can then truly once and for all shake off those pesky mind-forged manacles, step out of the cave of flickering shadows, slip the monkey-skin and liberate the angel that lies within.

Make no mistake, its coming.

We are the Golden Age.

U.S. ON LIBYA: we are closely monitoring events we created as we unfold them! September 13, 2012

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Phase 1: Install Islamic Extremists.
Phase 2: Insult Muhammad (a cartoon should do the trick)
Phase 3: Throw hands to face and feign shock at extremist reaction.
Phase 4: Launch another Holy War
Phase 5: steal sovereign wealth, edge closer to inevitable war with Russia/China…Yay!

The right kind of terrorist: A Brave Syrian Freedom-Fighter accidentally poses before an Al Qaeda flag.

The Wrong kind of terrorist: A man disguised with glasses angrily pumps his fist at Saudi-backed, British-trained Peace-Keepers in Bahrain.
The Wrong kind of terrorist: A man disguised with glasses angrily pumps his fist at Saudi-backed, British-trained Peace-Keepers in Bahrain