2021: A Year for Truths?

Part One

2020 has been a year of lies. Lies, lies, and more lies. Lies from governments and government agencies. Lies from medical officers and scientific advisers. Lies from the UN and the WHO. Lies from television channels, newspapers and other 'news' outlets. Lies from Silicon Valley, from social media corporations. Lies from so-called health authorities. Never has there been so many lies. Maybe it is time for a year of truths.

Actually, the beacon of truth has shone brighter and brighter during 2020, despite it all, or because of it all. Amidst the darkness has arisen an army of truth seekers and truth tellers, emitting love, light, courage, as they go. They will not be silenced, eliminated, whatever nefarious actions are taken by the forces of darkness in terms of censorship and worse. I have a new glittering throng of heroes and heroines in my life. Thanks to you all. 

Part Two

"I never said give up control/I never said stick a needle in your arm and die" John Cale and Lou Reed, Songs for Drella

Maxine is here. She arrived in double-quick time. Maxine the v*****e. She is now involved in an absolute frenzy, going about infecting as many people as possible, probably before she is finally rumbled.

It was always known to be the end game, or at least the climactic paragraph in this particular chapter, by those who understand a bit of how things really work in the game of human souls. David Icke was outlining clearly back in April how the shot was the goal of all this pandemic theatre. 

It's very simple, really. Maxine is a way to get stuff actually into the human body, to be able to influence directly the nature of human life. Mind control through media, programming by dark ritual like face masks, is all very well, but the dream is to be able to influence human perception directly. So stick nanobots, smart dust, whatever, into the human body with the aid of Miss Maxine, which will be at some date activated, possibly through 5G or via satellite, and 'job done': you have your remote-controlled human being, a kind-of hybrid human/computer terminal. Total compliance, total slavery. This is one aspect of the Maxine agenda, at least.

In the absence of proper info as to what the Covid shot really is - I don't know, and neither do you -, an abundance of theories has sprung up. It is plausible that all come bearing truth, since there is no reason to assume that Maxine has a single aim only. Sterilization; behaviour modification, as outlined above; time-release genocide; general debilitating of the immune system, overall negative impacting on health. These are some of the main players in the 'who is Maxine really?' question-and-answer situation.

As the briefest of outlines, here are a few things which I have picked up surrounding the nature of the shot:

a) A vakk-seen normally requires several years for creation and testing. This one has been dished up in a few short months (David Icke proposes that it was ready before the vai-russ card was played early this year). Most of the normal testing protocol has been by-passed.

b) A successful vakk-seen for a coronavirus has never been produced before. 

c) The new Maxine utilises what is called an MRNA vaccine. It impacts upon our RNA/DNA system. Such vakk-seens have never been successfully created before, so their effects are unknown (to you and me, anyhow)

d) From what I understand, if you read carefully, these current Covid ones are not even proper vakk-seens. They do not purport to prevent infection. They claim to reduce symptoms.           

e) As of a few days ago, the 'adverse effect' level of the Maxines delivered was running at 2.7% in the UK. 'Adverse effects' does not simply mean an uncomfortable arm. It means 'unable to work, or to go about everyday affairs, or require a visit to a doctors or hospital.' In other words, a fairly substantial level of unwellness.

f) The Maxine roll-out has been funded largely through a man who, along with his wife, have remarkable and completely undemocratic influence in human affairs. The father of this man was an openly-admitted eugenicist, and his son followed in his footsteps, for sure during early life. Gates jr can be seen in a public lecture stating that the planet is overpopulated, and that through 'education, sterilisation, and vaccines', we can reduce the population by 10 - 15% ie by about one billion. And this is the man you want a vakk-seen from??

f) Mix into the equation the fact that the Sars-Cov etc virus has never been properly isolated, as now confirmed by Freedom of Information requests in at least Canada, UK, Ireland, there may be more. So the plan is to stick Maxine into everybody on the planet for something which has never been proven to exist. So, hang on a second: - if it hasn't been isolated properly, how come you can create something to prevent it from happening???

g) The goal is for everybody on the planet to have one of these. In short, it is the most reckless, irresponsible experiment ever carried out on humanity. Remember to take your badge to wear in the afterlife: 'I was there for the Maxine.'

I am no expert on the topics above, far far far from it. But I have done enough research over recent months to state that, in a rough and ready manner, what I have stated above seems to be substantially correct. If you want more info, which you should, don't take my word for it, there are plenty of references scattered across Pale Green Vortex, check links etc.

There is also the story of Tiffany Dover, the unfortunate head nurse in the USA who went on live television to tell of how proud her team were to have taken the shot. Midway through the interview, she felt dizzy, then collapsed. My research and that of several other contacts leads us to the 99% conclusion that the mainstream is not telling you the truth - that she is dead. As are other pioneers in this world-saving shot, again not covered in the mainstream, which we can reasonably accuse of being complicit in potential crimes against humanity.  

In brief: anybody who wants to partake of Maxine needs their head tested, no two ways about it. While half the human population remains terrified of a virus which, should it even exist, will not be serious for the vast majority of them, they seem oblivious to the real dangers posed by sticking an undertested cocktail of sinister substances into their body, promoted fanatically by people who emanate darkness from every pore of their skin.

2020 has seen my stock of old friends and acquaintances dwindle somewhat as a result of what has appeared on  Pale Green Vortex, and my general refusal to accept any of the officially-sanctioned lies and bullshit. Fortunately, new friends have emerged. This process may well continue into 2021, as I irritate people by trying to point out to them what I have gleaned about vicious Miss Maxine. She comes with a smile on her face, but is dressed to kill.....       

And, for anybody wishing to dig deeper into the story of Maxine, and wants first-class investigative reporting, there are a few excellent (if long) articles here:

https://unlimitedhangout.com 

Images: The Road of Gold

             You-know-who

             This Maxine was apparently a famous soap character

Broken Shoes, We Are the Key!

 Part One

It was about two months ago that I was browsing through some material on the 'forum' section of the David Icke website. There is a wealth of valuable information to be found there, plenty new every day, and some real good, courageous people. At the same time, too much time spent there can be something of a disheartening experience. As well as the daily dose of nightmare-horror stories, you will encounter the mentality of some people with a tendency to complain, or feel that life is pretty hopeless. A sense of helplessness and powerlessness in the face of the darkness which pervades so much of human affairs. We have all been there, I suspect; I certainly have. At the same time, it is a vibe which is not helpful for anybody, or even in accord with the bigger picture of life.

Human beauty, imprisoned in the Matrix. Image: Luis Royo

On that particular day, one of the forum members clearly felt similarly. I don't recall his exact words, but they were along the lines of "We all need to keep a higher and wider perspective on things, otherwise we are lost. This should be our priority. Fear and hopelessness serve nobody, and we need to snap out of it."

He provided a link to a video, which he obviously felt provided the perspective that we should be focussing on. Being fatally curious, I took a look. What I discovered there wasn't what I might have been expecting at all. Broken Shoes:

https://lbry.tv/@CosmicAgency:c/pleiadian-communication-why-awakened:2

or: https://swaruu.org/transcripts         (scroll down to Sept 26th 2020)

I had never come across anything like this before. I was acquainted with a little channeled information from the past, most of which I found highly unimpressive. It was supposed to be messages from above, from higher dimensions and ascended masters, but all seemed derivative, unoriginal, stereotyped, the kind of thing that any old new-ager could come up with, really. Nothing new there. There are those who claim that much channeled material is in fact a matrix deception, put out by dark, 'lower astral' entities, out to divert human attention from the real deal. I suggest that this claim is quite credible.

'Broken Shoes' is not channeled. It is communication via the web, direct written communication, through Discord, apparently. The content of this video is a million miles away from the airy-fairy hogwash that is the hallmark of some channeling. It rings true, resonates authentically; such is the verdict of my intuition, exercised over the decades. Proper higher density information, according to my own powers of discernment.

This is 'Cosmic Agency' channel, still precariously hanging in on YouTube, but wisely backed up in other places. It includes material that is metaphysically challenging, at times metaphysically brilliant, something I have not experienced for a long time, really. I have learnt a lot; it feels good.

Broken Shoes, the awake ones who feel small, helpless, insignificant, but who are truly powerful manifesters: this includes some of the folk who dip into Pale Green Vortex, for sure. Broken Shoes, now is the time to rise up. The current madness is tailor-made for you to shine. Your time has come; seize the day.

The Great Work begins. Elementa chemicae, Barchusen

Part Two

For the rest, it's a bit 'same-old, same-old' really. I sometimes find it frustrating, since by now there's a vast quantity of information out there debunking the entire C.V.-19 narrative: that it's a no-vairoos - or, if that's too much to swallow - it's no worse than all sorts of other bug-type things that tend to go around; that the 'test' which propels the narrative along is fake, and does not detect a novel pathogen; that lockdowns, masks etc are useless at preventing this novel bug from spreading all over the place; that the real agenda has nothing to do with a physical illness; and that it was pre-planned anyway. 

But that the vast majority of people appear uninterested, simply do not want to know, are not prepared to spend a few short minutes of their precious lives to take a look: this can be frustrating. The material is readily available now, despite Silicon Valley and government agencies frantically trying to censor it out of existence. You don't need to be Sherlock Holmes, all you need is a search engine. 

Here is one good article from a good site:

https://principia-scientific.com/covid19-evidence-of-global-fraud/  

And here is Jon Rappoport. He's one of the best writers and reporters out there on this stuff. He's been around for quite a while, producing a galaxy of clear, easy-to-read articles about Mr No-Vairoos. I highly recommend his website:

https://nomorefakenews.com   

And to finish, a nice little ditty. First off, this was made eleven years ago, I believe. Just for those who believe everything happens by chance, all a random soup:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lknW2mzXMMY

Broken free from the chains. Albion, William Blake

A Great English Betrayal

Part One

I recently read about the death of the former Argentina footballer Diego Maradona. This news made me feel quite sad. And this is my great English betrayal.

In the minds of many Englanders, especially those of a certain age, Maradona is mainly remembered for his infamous 'Hand of God' goal. It was the 1986 football World Cup, the quarter finals. England versus Argentina, with the Falklands War still fresh in the memories of many. Diego Maradona scored Argentina's first goal with the assistance of his hand. Everyone on the planet saw that he used his hand. Apart from the referee. The goal stood, and England fell down.

Far more remarkable, however, was Maradona's second goal in the match. It was here that God really did lend a hand. It is simply the most miraculous, breath-taking piece of football I have ever witnessed (I have never been a great fan, but have accumulated enough hours over the years to have some standard to compare with).

Starting in the Argentina half of the pitch, Diego dribbled, switched, swerved, around literally half the England team before depositing the ball emphatically in the England net. It is sublime, surreal, not of this world. Humans are not intended to do such things; but it shows what they are indeed capable of.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hF_2arqQLwo

I watch films but rarely. I have, however, seen the film 'Diego Maradona'. Twice. 

The first time was in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, summer 2019. The film had been released only recently, and my wife spied that it was showing at one of the independent film venues. Being Latin American herself, she decided that it would be a great idea to go.

Newcastle. We could have gone to Durham, York maybe for the day. We could have visited the cliffs and the sands of the nearby coast. A trip to the hills of the Moors or Yorkshire Dales would have been fine. Even a stroll along the river in the early summer sun. But no. We went to the cinema.

The film is directed by Asif Kapadia, and was made with the full permission and participation of Diego Maradona himself. It is a vivid and intelligent insight into the footballer's life.

Put aside the stereotyped English view of Maradona, and you get a fascinating guy. The film is far more than football. It portrays a person, a larger-than-life person. A soul in all its triumphs and tragedies.

There exist a myriad of parallels between the life of Diego and that of an enduring fascination of mine, Jim Morrison. Both were possessed of a gift, a talent, that was rare and pure. Both were seduced and overtaken by the temptations of fame and glory, while their soul looked on, untouched yet seemingly bewildered. They both appeared to revel in it all, for a while, yet could often be glimpsed looking detached, lost, as if soul was watching like a helpless child, unable to make sense of it all.

Both were exploited mercilessly by the cesspit denizens of humanity, those vampires and parasites who sniff out success and charisma from a mile off, circling at the smell of blood like a shoal of piranhas. These are the dregs of humanity: in media, celebrity, the music industry, politics, advertising, and the good old Neapolitan mafia, the Camorra.

Both were great-looking guys who enjoyed to the full what great-looking guys may enjoy. And both indulged in a variety of intoxicating substances - alcohol especially - to excess. To real excess. And both, behind the hype, the drama, the paparazzi nonsense, were men of heart.

Part Two

I have attended one professional football match in my life - a tally unlikely to increase by very much. It was a cold spring Saturday afternoon. My guess was that it was in 1992, but research suggests 1994. Whatever. Brentford. A flat-mate of mine at the time supported Brentford. It was a family tradition, he told me. So off we went.

Brentford, for those unacquainted with such matters, lies slap-bang in the middle of the vast swathe of suburbia extending from inner London to Heathrow airport. Its football team is traditionally a resident of the lower professional leagues (it is apparently doing rather better at the moment).

Brentford football team seemed to me to be a bit of a joke. However, I soon learned that it was no laughing matter. Brentford was to be taken seriously, very seriously. Humour expressed in their direction would not be appreciated.

It was with great seriousness, therefore, that we issued onto the station platform and walked the short distance through no-man's-land to the stadium of forgotten dreams. A keen wind cut through the springtime afternoon, lending further gravitas to the expedition.

Brentford was playing against Huddersfield, a town in industrial Yorkshire. Their supporters were caged off in a small enclave behind one of the goals, wisely segregated from the family-friendly devotees of the home team. 

The quality of the football was atrocious. Brentford was especially awful. Both sides managed to get the ball into the net once, until the last minute, when Huddersfield scored a winner, sending those hundred Yorkshire diehards into a delirium, The final whistle went, and the local fans trudged silently in the direction of the train station and home.

Part Three

Seven (or five) years before Brentford's ignominious defeat to Huddersfield, Napoli was winning Serie A in Italy for the first time, thus changing the face of Italian football. The prime reason for this footballing revolution was the arrival of Diego Maradona.

The scenes in the Maradona film inside the Napoli stadium are surreal. The vastness against the blue sky; the collective frenzy, its power, its ecstasy, its fury. The collective consciousness manifest, awesome and terrifying simultaneously.    

Almost single-handedly, Maradona transformed the global image of the city - and by consequence that of the Neapolitans themselves. Before Maradona's arrival, Naples was the scum and sewer of Italy - southern, poor, disease-ridden, filthy; despised by the chic cosmopolitans of Milan, Turin, Florence. 

But with the genius from Argentina in residence, Napoli began winning, and winning big. Victory over the mighty teams from further north: Inter, AC Milan, Juventus, Roma. And then the most coveted prize of all: champions of Serie A. Naples, the whole city it seems, was transformed. Neapolitans could look at themselves in the mirror with pride and self-respect. Thank you, Maradona. Thank you.

Then came the 1990 World Cup, played in Italy. Semi-finals time: Argentina versus Italy in..... Naples. Was it all a plot organised by the footballing powers-that-were? The match went to penalties, the point at which I lose all interest. Anyhow, Argentina won, with Maradona one of the spot-kick heroes. The locals were none too pleased.

The Argentine's fall from favour was already well under way, but this was the final straw, as Naples turned against him. The particular final straw was the Camorra (Naples's mafia) withdrawing their support and protection from Diego. Maradona was now at the mercy of Italy's 'legal system', and the rest makes for unsavoury history.

That a city could turn against the person who had elevated their status to undreamed-of levels in such a brutal way I find difficult to believe, and frankly abhorrent. Fame, fortune, all that stuff, is fickle indeed. I know that. But to feel betrayed by your saviour - which is how Maradona was regarded - when you are doing the betraying, takes some beating.

There is a Buddhist teaching about the 'Eight Worldly Winds', things that blow you about, and which the wise would do well to shun. Four pairs of opposites: pleasure and pain, loss and gain, fame and infamy, praise and blame. 

It's a good list: I find it relevant frequently. At the same time, there is another angle on matters. It's all very well to see all this yo-yo dualities stuff, and shy away from getting involved as a result. But it is sometimes necessary to actually plunge in, really live the experience, before the lesson can be properly integrated. This is the shadow work, rather than sitting on the fence out of fear of getting burnt. Better to love and to lose, than never love at all: that sort of thing.

I shall always have a place in my heart for the Jims, the Diegos, the waywardly passionate ones; those who have dared to live and to die.    

Images: Naples, land of dreams

             Brentford F.C., land of dreams