The Blue Mask

There were small hopeful signs during a visit to the supermarket this week (I refer to 'the supermarket' since the local Tesco has become pretty much the one-and-only over recent months. It is fairly quiet, not very big, and you don't get hassled for not wearing a you-know-what).

First up, more of the staff are clearly getting pissed off with wearing masks. An increasing number can be seen with them worn well down below the nose, or pulled down for a breather before going back into full numbskull mode; or just left dangling while they get on with their job. One, who I'd seen struggling and working in dangling mode a couple of weeks ago, now sports an 'exemption' thing, as do a couple of other workers.

I am pleased, not for ideological reasons, but for their sakes: long-term wearing of a suffocation cloth will be bad for health - there is far more literature around to back this up than evidence that it does any good in scaring away viruses.

Outside the supermarket, a lively-looking guy - I think he was a Jesus dude - was having an animated discussion with one of the supermarket workers, an older guy, one who goes around collecting the trolleys around the car park. "They are herding us into a new way of life" he was explaining to the trolley man, who looked interested but bemused.

Back inside, I had spied a masker paying at the checkout wearing a Lou Reed t-shirt. "Lou Reed wouldn't wear a mask" I thought to myself, before letting it go: there's no way of knowing, really.
But Lou Reed and masks go back a long way.

In some respects, Lou was a master of the mask. Not for keeping at bay a phantom virus, but for putting on and taking off persona. Unlike most of our modern occult mask-wearers, his was a conscious act, so he was able to control the magick; well, most of the time. But it was that: one mask for an audience, another mask for tomorrow night's audience, a particularly odious mask for the music journalists he so despised. And there was the Blue Mask.....

The album entitled 'The Blue Mask' was released in early 1982. It was in the middle of a period during which only true Lou aficionados will be familiar with any of the songs. The fashion among rock 'critics' at the time was to ignore, dismiss, or run down.

'The Blue Mask' came to bathe Reed's gathering ignominy in a little light relief. The working title of the album was apparently 'Heaven and Hell', and it fits the bill. After years of living and making music that was on the edge of destruction, despair, premature complete annihilation, Lou Reed takes a big step towards personal redemption (if we remove any theological connotations to the word) with some of the songs on 'The Blue Mask'.

'Heavenly Arms' is one such. And there is 'Our House', evoking scenes of rural idyll. 'The image of the poet's in the breeze/ Canadian geese are flying above the trees/ A mist is hanging gently on the lake/ Our house is very beautiful at night.'

But then there is the song itself, the one which gives its name to the album. The Blue Mask. I provide a link to the song, though I am unable to really listen to it myself. The distorted guitar feedback, the pounding beat and rhythm, the vicious military snarl of Lou's voice, the words, the words, the words. It is not a 'high vibrational' song; but then it is not intended to be.

Suffering and torture are the name of the game on 'The Blue Mask'. 'They tied his arms behind his back/ To teach him how to swim/ They put blood in his coffee/ And milk in his gin.'

The catalogue of sadism continues, until...... , ambiguously(much art worth the title is ambiguous) it begins to dawn. This is not a one-way street of abuse. The abused is a willing participant in the entire horror movie.

'Take the blue mask down from my face/ And look me in the eye/ I get a thrill from punishment/ I've always been that way'. And again, near the song's pained finale: 'Make the sacrifice/ Mutilate my face/ If you need someone to kill/ I'm a man without a will'.

Doesn't it sound all-too familiar? Isn't this the ritual which is being enacted across the globe right now, by literally billions of people on a daily basis? Is it not that the human species is being invited to engage in sado-masochistic ritual on an unimaginable scale? Just watch some people when they don the mask. Their heads are literally bowed. They walk around looking cowed, downtrodden, thoroughly beaten. Not so much teenagers: it needs more than a blue mask to knock the stuffing out of most of them. But older folk, from age twenty on, I'd submit. Happy masochists. Punish me, punish me, punish me some more. I am a danger to the world; I am crap.

Bowed and cowed. The ritual of submission. Willing submission, mind you, for the most part. This is the important bit. If I can walk around the supermarket mask-free, so can anyone else. It's a choice. And, just as in the 'Blue Mask' song, there is a conspiracy between abuser and abused: both get their kicks from the twisted, perverse ritual. 'Make the sacrifice/ Mutilate my face/ If you need someone to kill/ I'm a man without a will'.

What a perfect expression of the goal of the blue mask ritual enacted worldwide today: to render the human being no longer human; no longer an independent entity, with any vestige of personal choice, of free will. To become passive, mute, faceless. And, in an expression of the unspoken covenant between abuser and abused, the mutilated will speak up for, defend with aggression if need be, the right of the abuser to continue the abuse. Speak out against the mask and you will likely be accused of recklessness, irresponsibility, and of wanting to kill other people.

They are after the children now. Enforcing a mask on a child is child abuse, plain and simple, literally. There is no limit to the depths that 'they' will plumb in their sickness. 'Children need to wear a mask to protect the old people.' What manipulative diabolical bullshit. And they know that.

'The adult is now debased. Let's see if we can take it further. Will they allow us to debase their children? Will they allow us to do that?'

'I'm a man without a will'.

Here's the song, if you dare:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCXA7RRoD0M

I am reminded of animal documentaries that I saw when I used to watch television. I can't remember what it was: sharks or dolphins I think. Anyhow, they would come upon a great shoal of little fish, millions of them, darting around. The sharks/dolphins would go crazy, uncontrollable, get carried away in a total frenzy as they decimated their prey. This is what I see today. The architects of control can't believe their luck, and they've gone ape-shit crazy. Completely out of control as they plough through the shoals of consent-to-debasement humans. It's a frenzy, it doesn't look good, but it's only possible because the prey are willing prey. There is no limit to where they can go, should they be allowed. Psychopathy is by its nature insatiable in its evil.

Take the blue mask down, look me in the eye.....

We have a problem. The majority of people are not psychopathic. The problem is that they do not recognise that there is a psychopathic mentality at work in the world; and that, while unrecognised, can rain down as much havoc as it wishes on the rest of human life.

Studies vary, but the suggestion is that between 1% and 5% of the human population is of psychopathic disposition. This is characterised above all by absence of empathy, of feelings of remorse and of the recognition that actions have consequences. In sum, there is no fellow-feeling; no feeling for any living thing aside from oneself.

It is lack of honesty and courage which lead so many people to dismiss, or refuse to acknowledge, the psychopathic element at work in human affairs, I suggest. For many non-psychopaths it is uncomfortable to consider this possibility. My humble suggestion is that it's time to get over it, and ..... take off the blue mask and look it all firmly in the eye. Otherwise, future prospects may not be worth thinking about.....               


 

Mind Control

Part One

At the end of the day (as the saying goes) my approach is psychological. 'Psychological' in the broadest sense of the word, that is. Mind, consciousness: these are primary, these are the creators of reality. 'Mind' includes feelings and emotions, instinct and intuition, sensations, just as much as it includes thoughts and ideas. 'Mind' is not a matter of the head; it is a matter of all experience.

There was a number of occasions during the 1970s when, with the aid of various psychedelic, or entheogenic, helpers, I was able to witness the world coming into being. It was as if time slowed down to such an extent that the entire process of manifestation, of creation, could be experienced as it occurred. The world of many things, the world as we normally know it, would unfold from 'somewhere' else: from the non-create, the un-create.

This is how the entire thing comes to be. On a moment-to-moment basis, the 'world' is created anew. It  is in a constant state of coming-to-be; sensations and the rest are instantaneously interpreted by our perceptual mechanisms into what we then, comfortably in the realm of the known, translate as 'the world'.

It's presented in many different places under various guises. In Mahayana Buddhism, it is the Void which gives birth to the world as we know it. It is emanation theory, in which the (dualistic) world is an emanation from the non-dual, what is sometimes  termed 'Source'. It is there in Kabbala, on the Tree of Life, where Ain Soph then Kether, the One, splits into ever-increasing differentiation, until we finally arrive at the bottom of the tree, Malkuth, the material world.

Mind Only. Consciousness is primary, the source of all that is. We forget this at our peril.

Part Two

During these described moments many years ago, and at various times more recently, it occurred to me that realising this process was the root of magic, or at least one root. For if one was able to watch the world come into being, then equally one could learn how to squeeze into that gap between the unmanifest and the manifest, and so twist, alter, distort, what was to come into being. Magic, the occult, are in themselves neutral; they can be the source of either good or evil, depending upon the intentions of the worker of the magic.

According to some, this is the origin of much of the conflict on planet Earth today. The great sages and knowledge-holders of thousands of years back, centred in what is nowadays northern Iran, spilt into two opposing groups. There were the carriers of true spiritual wisdom, who became the Gnostics among others. And there were the carriers of darkness - of power rather than benevolent wisdom - who morphed into secret societies, the Illuminati. And we could say, the embodiments of the mentality of the Archons.

Part Three

Mind is everything. This refers to everything 'now' as much as at any other time.

Face masks, face coverings: for the vast majority of folk they have nothing to do with physical health. Nothing at all. But they have everything to do with mind. Psychology. Everything. They are one of modern history's greatest mind-fucks.

In order to unpack one angle on the mind-mask-fuck, I shall take a stroll down a particularly dark psychological alleyway.

Before the Covid situation arose, there were two topics which occasionally pop up in the 'alternative world' that I studiously avoided. They were too repugnant, too dark, too psychopathic, for me. These topics were a) the A1 (artificial intelligence) archontic end-game, of a brain/computer interface, essentially transforming human beings into computer terminals, remotely-manipulated automatons of the (sub)human hive mind. And the second topic was that of satanic ritual abuse, especially of children, primarily as a means to feed off their energy.

With the playing of the Covid card, however, nothing is off limits any longer. All needs consideration, nothing is impossible. And it doesn't take a genius to see the connections between the artificial intelligence programme, ritual abuse, and the coronavirus plandemic.

The stuff of fantasy nightmares it may seem, but satanic ritual abuse is well-documented, including accounts by survivors which bear close resemblance to one another, thus lending credibility to their stories.

Trauma-based mind control is a vital element in such ritual abuse. Put simply, abuse generates intense fear, trauma; it is intended to so, for energetic reasons. And a major factor in how the process works involves compartmentalisation of the victim's psyche; in my own words, the exploitation of sub-personalities of the target victim, which operate more-or-less autonomously one from the other.

It is possible to turn on and off the sub-personalities of an individual. Thus, a victim may appear relatively normal under most circumstances, when their main persona is operating. However, it is possible to 'trigger' (the word used) another (sub)personality through the use of particular trigger words, sounds, or other means. Once triggered, this sub-personality can be subjected to extreme pain, fear, whatever, and then turned off again at will.

The person is then returned to their main persona, and such is the trauma that they consciously recall nothing at all - it is completely identified with that other (now unconscious) sub-persona. It's as if nothing every happened, and it's only through intensive psychotherapeutic work that the horrors may eventually be recovered.

Such are the psychopathic depths that a small proportion of (non)humanity will plumb. But the principle of the mask is not so very far from that employed in satanic ritual abuse, I suggest. Not so very far at all....

It is simple and straightforward to observe. Put on the mask and you become a different person; a different sub-personality takes charge. And this is all intended, by the way.

Part Four

Put straightforwardly: the mask is a trigger. It is a trigger for demeaning, humiliating ritualised abuse on a global scale. You can see it happening all the time, if only you look: see what is there, not what you have been told is there.

You see people behaving in human fashion, in the street, in the park, in the car park: laughing, joking, playing around; complaining, communicating about something or another. Then they approach the shop, and put on the mask. Immediately it is triggered: the Covid horror-anxiety-fear-and-danger-submission sub-personality. You see it in the supermarkets, on the buses, wherever people wear the mask. The Covid persona has been turned on.

And the thing about the Covid sub-personality is that it is not a personality at all. The personality has been erased, removed. Which is the whole point of the exercise, and why it is satanic. Our individuality is gone, and we are all the same, all subservient to the same common horror, the one great unifying Covid. We bow our heads in unison.

I believe that last week Con-mander-in-Chief Johnson issued yet another edict enumerating further places where the mask had to be worn. Hotel lobbies, for example. There is no coincidence here. Introduce still more petty details about where faces must be covered in order to keep the loyal subjects in constant remembrance of the mask, of their subservience to the mask, of the omnipresent horror of the Covid.

Do not allow them to forget for one second their inferiority to the god of the mask, the personality eraser. Over time, roles will reverse: the current personality will become the sub-personality, and vice-versa. The mask will become our prime face, our default way of being. Loyal, cowed, fearful, obedient: this will become the norm. Our face of individuality gone. We will be wearing the mask even when the face is uncovered.

No way......

Part Five

I have yet to wear a coronavirus suffocation cloth, and I intend that things will remain that way. There are, however, a number of occasions when I would consider it, to be effected in full consciousness of non-consent to the satanic rite.

One such occasion was last Sunday, when my wife (who hasn't covered her face yet, either) had an appointment at the local hospital for a check-up on a previously serious condition, postponed from March. If it was a case of 'no mask=no check-up' I would have donned the infernal object.

We arrived at reception; hospital almost deserted. "Use the handgel" the young lady at reception told us. I backtracked a couple of steps, and squeezed a tiny drop of this unpleasant stuff over my fingers. "You need to wear your mask" she continued. "We are exempt" I declared, pointing to the badges dangling prominently from our necks. The receptionist got a bit flustered; this was a bit much for her. Such complications were clearly not part of the script she had been given. "Oh, well" she mumbled. "Take these with you, in case you need them" handing me a couple of those surgical mask things.

We saw the consultant, who appeared remarkably unworried about contracting a fatal virus from either of us. He has always been courteous and helpful, and was happy to give my wife the all-clear, and hoped he never saw us again.

Once home, I opened my bag and took out my trophy from the hospital. I'd seen thousands of people wearing these things, and plenty of them, used or unused, thrown away and strewn across the pavements and forest walks nearby. But I'd never looked at one closely. Not really. And never touched one. 

I inspected it, rubbed my finger across its centre, held it up to the light. The magic mask, the transformer of society.

What an awful thing! It is worse than I had imagined. Crude, cheap, synthetic, slimy. A mass-produced piece of demonstrable shit. The very depths of what modern industrial society can come up with. Is supposed to protect against the most deadly Covid virus? Really? And people wear this on their face every day??? Voluntarily???

The medium is the message, I guess. Demeaning, humiliating, you got it. How low can you sink? 

davidicke.com/2020/08/14/covid-19-is-a-virus-of-the-human-mind-david-icke-dot-connector-videocast-please-share-to-counter-censorship/

Above is a link to David Icke's weekly dot connector videocast. It's on the same subject, approached from a slightly different angle, but one of his best. Highly recommended.   

Images: coercioncode
             well-known celebrity       
 

Maskless and Majestic

Part One: Toxic Wine 

Majestic. Wines, that is. I'd never visited our local store before. It's on the other side of town, and probably the northernmost in Britain. It's also on the industrial estate, probably the noisiest, most traffic-ridden place in this little part of the universe. I have little reason to visit such an establishment these days, anyhow: sinuses and kundalini have rendered me pretty much an alcohol-free zone. 'Grade A poison' is what the body seems to say to alcohol. I am on my way back, however, having guzzled almost an entire bottle of Martini over the past couple of months.

It was my wife, for reasons varied, who wished to go to Majestic Inverness. We took the riverside walk, keeping by the waters as far as possible, before cutting inland briefly, dodging the traffic heading north, and standing outside the drug store. Ah, alcohol - give me a blast.

The door was open; on closer inspection there was some kind of tape running across the entrance. To begin with, I thought we might have struck lucky, and there be some special opening today, maybe a famous celebrity cutting the tape and cracking a bottle of champagne as a new section of the shop is opened. However, it turned out to be a barrier to prevent 'customers' entering without permission.

We were allowed in by a masked female, and had a look around. Majestic shops are typically spacious affairs, often former warehouses decked out with lots of bottles of wine. My wife gave it all a quick inspection, before picking up a bottle to read about it on the label. Cue a panicked masker running in her direction. "You can't touch the bottles. We can tell you about alcohol content." Then she mumbled something about 'health'.

Rather taken aback, my wife returned the bottle to its position, and was taken aback a second time as the masked buffoon furiously sprayed the entire bottle with sanitiser. That's 'health' for you. No wonder we weren't allowed to read the label; "This wine comes with hints of cherry, and a strong aftertaste of chemical shite." Exactly what people come to Majestic for.

Resisting the temptation to walk out, knocking a few bottles onto the ground as we went, we wandered around. I examined the bottles closely. These are, after all, special bottles, different bottles. Go to Tesco, and the bottles of wine are virus-free: you can pick them up and put them down as much as you want. But Majestic wine bottles are a dodgy affair. The bloody virus is stuck fast onto each and every one of them.

As we meandered, two pairs of beady eyes followed us as we went. How the 'humans' accompanying the eyes felt about our procession was unknown to me. Were they angry? Suspicious? Did they think we might need help? No idea. They were masked, expressionless; all I could see were the eyes. I remembered the good old days, when Boris Johnson had pretences to being a proper human being himself, rather than the fully-paid-up covid clone of today. He was chastised by the righteous ones about comments he made referring to the chosen attire of certain Muslim females as similar to a letterbox, with the sinister implications of such a cover-up. Well done, Boris. Everyone's a bloody letterbox now.....

The thing is this, and the reason for our tracking: we were without masks. Our faces were free, moving, apparent. Nowadays it's not those who cover their face who are viewed with suspicion, but those who dare to show who they are.

And here is another thing: notice how 'the virus' has developed new abilities over the past few months. It is only recently that it was a two-metre weakling. Now it has morphed impressively into a long-distance olympic champion. Here in not-so-Majestic, as I was beginning to shape it, there is space. Loads and loads of space. But the number of customers allowed in was severely rationed. I think I caught sight of a viral particle leaping from the French Merlots onto the chiantis from Tuscany, and thence onward to the big fruity Californian reds. Scary.

Time to pay. My wife emphatically plonked down three bottles on the counter. "I'll have those two - not that one." The unlucky one was hastened out of sight, inevitably due a soaking from toxic handwash.

And there it was: by now hardly a surprise. The sign. 'No cash.' I put my virus-ridden notes away. They were fresh and crispy, taken from a machine a few weeks back, and touched solely by healthy-ol' me.           

We left with spirits a little low. I clambered over the dead bodies of a number of unfortunates on the way back into town, some still clutching their deadly notes and coins in pale, cold, lifeless hands. Nasty stuff, that cash. I'll look out for 'cash' as cause of death in the 'obituary' section of the local paper next week.

I am making note of who is more reasonable, and who is overstepping the already-overstepping mark made by the 'authorities'. The latter won't be getting my dosh anymore. Which is cash as much as is possible nowadays. I hope plenty more folk will do the same. Majestic, bye bye....

Part Two: Oasis

It was a meet, a gathering, more than a demo. In the park, Saturday lunchtime. 'Peaceful protest' the headline on 'Keep Britain Free' said. Relief indeed.

About fifty people, I guess, with a few dogs. That rare but valuable breed nowadays, it seems. People who see through the lies, the authoritarian horror, the incessant cruel bullying bullshit. No masks, no lockdowns, let's be human beings again. As important as anything: fifty luminous balls of openness, friendliness. The virus of fear replaced as if through a miracle by warmth, human relations, human relatedness. Thanks to everyone who was there for raising the spirits far more than a bloody wine retailer could ever hope to dampen them.

It's time do do something. Anything. It's getting now or never; I mean literally. Look out for local people, local groups. Go along, do it. Disparate folk, different backgrounds, but all knowing that what is going on is bad, very bad, not what the myopic majority believe. Not at all.

And you can do stuff by yourself.....

I spend as little time as possible in retail establishments. Nevertheless, just four days after the majestic experience, it was off to the supermarket. Normally, there are one or two other recognisable faces among the aisles. On this occasion, however, the store was pretty full of folk, but we seemed to be the only maskless customers around.

My wife and I qualify as 'exempt from face coverings' in the official version of reality. Nevertheless, walking around in a sea of masked anonymity can be a challenging experience.

To begin with, I felt a little uncomfortable. Now, however, that's all gone. It's the opposite. I walk with pride in my heart. Whether or not officially exempt is not the point, it makes little difference. It gives a message to everyone else who happens to cast a beady eye on your existence. 'It is not inevitable; it is not without choice. There is an alternative. You don't have to do it.' Just sticking yourself behind a shopping trolley and gathering potatoes and green peppers is a potent statement to the world. Conformism is an option, not a given.

What's the worst that can happen to a maskless supermarket dude? Some uninformed idiot shouts at you about how you are a danger to society, killing people. Big deal. It reminds me of the Buddha, when somebody came up to him and shouted criticism and nonsense at him from close range. "What do you do with a gift given to you that you don't want?" enquired Buddha. "You give it back." "Yep. And here's your bullshit right back in your grubby palms."

The other worst thing? You are told to wear a mask and you refuse. Supermarket workers are not authorised to insist on customers being muzzled, it's not their job, it's the police. Anyhow, you can just leave, taking your crisp banknotes elsewhere, and leaving them a basket full of consumables to put back on the shelves.

Big deal again. Once you get over the authority complex, which is at the root of all the bullshit and cruelty, everything becomes easy. Go for it...... 

     
Images: Computer modelling: shit in, shit out. David Icke.com
              Look out! - someone's touching that bottle
              David icke.com again. Thanks, guys
              Worldometer Peru - proof of how much we need masks and lockdowns

Notes From a Robot World

Part One: A Covid Death in the Family

Originally I wasn't going to write about this; but I changed my mind....

Aunt Shirley. I hadn't seen her for years, though I spoke to her on occasion at Christmas - phone or Skype. She lived in Toronto, Canada, and died about three weeks ago.

For two or three years she had lived in a care home in Toronto. According to my sister who, unlike me, keeps in good contact with the Canadian relatives, and visited a year or two ago, Canadian care homes can be pretty much a dystopian nightmare (my words, not hers). From her descriptions, I gather that they are sometimes huge, multi-storey blocks, uniform and largely faceless, where those who are no longer able to care for themselves are looked after efficiently. It reminds me of communist Russia, but maybe that's my problem.

That Shirley remained alive this long is something of a miracle. Since I first knew her, over forty years ago, she was seriously diabetic, and subject to illness-related mood changes, to put it tactfully. Her illness impacted heavily upon her health in general. Then, as recent years arrived, she started to lose her mental faculties. Not an unusual story, but no less sad for that.

So Shirley was a victim of Covid-19. She did not, of course, actually have the virus; whether she was tested or not I do not know and do not care. No. She died because, for three months - her last three months in this incarnation on planet Earth - she was denied visitors. Family - my cousin and his family - and friends were unable to see her, because of 'the virus'. All other considerations take second place when 'the virus' is about. So she was left to feel sad and sorry, and the will to live which had kept this tough cookie going for so long finally gave up. Inspiring, expiring, no longer worth the effort. So she died. I am not making this up: a nurse or nurses said as much, so I am told.

This is the new Covid world; the new abnormal; the new psychopathic horror show. Nothing matters any longer. Not very much, anyhow. So long as we contain the virus, meekly wear the mask, do whatever dysfunctional sub-humans in suits tell us what to do, everything will be all right. Well, I've got news: no, it won't.

"Ah, but your aunt was in a care home. These are the people who we have to protect. Get the virus in the home, and they'll all be dead."

My aunt apparently lived on the ninth floor of this residence, but was moved to the ground floor as her health deteriorated. Let's just picture this: the ground floor; near the exit; near the outdoors; near, I assume, at least a small open space. Canada, in spring, early summer. Sun, warmth, at least some of the time.

In a human world, one that actually deals with individuals, we might consider the possibility of a family meeting outdoors. A socially-distanced meeting, even. Just briefly; just once a week. Enough to make a difference, a real difference. But no. We do not inhabit a human world. We live in a robot world. A world where the uniform is the rule, where one size fits all. And this is just a rehearsal for what is to come, should we allow it.....

Part Two: Tarpa Nagpo

Other cultures at other times might grasp better the essence of what is going on at present. The mass of modern humanity appears so sanitised, so anaesthetised, by the life and dogmas of scientific rationalism and materialism, that it is unable to see evil when it stares straight into your eyes. We could call it pseudo-scientific myopia.

The gods have been banished, ridiculed, the sources of great good and great bad dismissed as silly, superstitious, primitive. Which suits the bad guys just fine: they can get on with their dark work uninterrupted.

Most societies predating modern western ones fully recognised the influence on, and power over, human life of non-human gods, spirits: angels, fairies, demons, and the rest. As humans, we are simply one life form in the midst of many; one vibrational energy among a host of other energies, all with their own ways of going about things.

The impact of dark forces was understood and described by the early Gnostics, which is why they had to go: institutionalised Christianity became a prime vehicle for those very forces of darkness. Many shamanic societies, for example both South and North American, know about this. Castaneda saw this, and wrote lucidly about it in his final book.

It is there in early Buddhism, where Buddha is often found conversing with non-human forces, many of which are disruptive. This was all natural, uncontroversial, just the way that life was. His final battle was with Mara, embodiment of negativity, who threw everything he had at Buddha to try and prevent his enlightenment. Many modern Buddhists like to belittle such passages by saying they are 'poetic and metaphorical'. Why? Why not literal? That's cultural cherry-picking.

Early Buddhist Tantra also shows an intimate acquaintance with these great forces outside the human realm, but ones eager to impact upon the lives of humans. The lives of these Buddhists were elemental in the extreme, sculpted by sun, snow, hail, wind, rock, ice. All was alive, everything vital, every stone, every tiny plant on the mountainside. And all was impregnated with the influence of non-human entities both benevolent and malevolent.

It is in 'The Life and Liberation of Padmasambhava' that we encounter the jolly figure of Tarpa Nagpo. The Life and Lib is one of several kind-of biographies of Padmasambhava, who is focal to the introduction of Buddhism to Tibet, and whose name is associated particularly with the Nying-ma, 'Old School' form of Indo-Tibetan tantric Buddhism.

This version of Padmasambhava's life was reputedly related by Yeshe Tsogyal, one of his several consorts, and it comes down to us in a kind of verse form, redacted in 108 cantos. It is in Cantos 5 and 6 that we hear about Tarpa Nagpo.

Tarpa, or Black Salvation, originally wished to practice the teachings of Buddha, but then things began to go wrong. "His body put on the semblance of holiness, but his mind was going to perdition." (think 'people who set up nice-sounding charities, but whose intent is in reality evil'.)

Things get pretty bad as Tarpa's life goes on. To cut a long story short, his life goes seriously off the rails, from a spiritual perspective at least. He takes the dead into charnel houses to have his fill of them, and later he eats his own dead demon mother's flesh, drinks her blood, and lives off the dead (echoes in modern times of satanic ritual sacrifices, apparently undertaken by some of those near the top of the pyramid).

After practicing 'the black doctrine' for twelve cycles, he is reborn as a black jackal, a carnivorous mongoose, an eater of vomit, and as a flesh eater. He becomes 'Ma-Rudra', who devoured his mother.

Fortunately help is at hand. However, drastic situations call for drastic solutions. He is finally subjugated by the horse-headed one (Hayagriva in some accounts), who enters him up his anus; and the swine-headed one (Vajrapani, possibly, another extremely wrathful Buddhist deity) up his urethra. "The horse and the pig have subdued Rudra; the Buddha has subdued the demons."

Come, sacred Hayagriva and Vajrapani, please come. We are in dire need of your uncompromising assistance at this dark moment in human history.

Part Three: Tarpa's Little Shot

With the vak-seen, the endgame of the subjugation of the human spirit is in sight. Tarpa Nagpo would be mightily impressed with what has been happening of late.

There is a fair bit of information out there on the subject of the vak-seen, and why Tarpa Nagpo, in his current incarnation as Bill-the-shot Gates, among others, views it with reverence, worshipping it every morning. Among the people who have produced work on it is Carrie Madej. Her video is clear and heartfelt. I strongly recommend twenty-two minutes of your life well-spent.

www.bitchute.com/video/2oSIEkuV1DGe

(you might find it on YouTube as well, where it's had half a million views, but its status there in uncertain....)

I do not exaggerate when I say this video link may be one of the most important things I have ever put on this blog. This information needs to get out to people as much as possible. I am no expert, that's the last thing I am, and there may be things I am missing. But clearly the vak-seen is no joke. And remember: it's a one-way ticket. One shot, no going back.

Part Four: Sanity, an Endangered Species

OK, it's partly a plug for his new book, but it also condenses much of what David Icke has been saying since March into sixteen clear and watchable minutes. 

davidicke.com/2020/07/27/how-they-pulled-off-the-pandemic-an-animated-film-explanation-by-david-icke/

And from the David Icke forum (a place that can elicit inspiration and a sense of helplessness in equal measure, depending on your mood, where you go there, and how long you spend - short bursts = good, long sessions tend to evoke a bad mood in my experience)

OK, so let's just check if I've understood this properly:

- There is this Covid-19 virus, which has  a mortality in the range typical of seasonal flus (swprs.org/a-swiss-doctor-on-covid-19/ )
- A successful vaccine against coronaviruses eg the common cold has never been found.
- A new type of vaccine, implicating the RNA/DNA systems, the very building blocks of life, is being rolled out for the novel coronavirus.
- A 'safe and effective' vaccine (which sometimes proves to be neither) is normally reckoned to take several years to be ready for use.
- The coronavirus vaccines are being 'fast-tracked', to be ready for use within months, or a year or so.
- This means by-passing the normal stages of animal trials, etc, to get straight to the humans.
- They will nevertheless be 'safe and effective.'
- They are to be used on all human beings, and until that happens life cannot get back to normal.

Sounds just great to me. Apart from being the most vicious, irresponsible thing I've heard in all my life, quite literally, it's perfect. Sign me up.

Images: Vajrapani, subjugator of demons
             Toronto
             Black Salvation (literally: 'I will save the world - with my poisons')   
                       

God Save the Queen, Fascist Regime...

The last in our little trilogy titled 'punk for the age of covid'.

Part One: Nightmare On Every Street

The sharp and rude shock is over for now. There remains, I sense, for countless millions of people strewn across the face of the Earth a dull, numbing feeling of trauma. The trauma of unexpected domestic imprisonment; separation from loved ones, even those in need or dying; the immediate curtailment of taken-for-granted freedoms; the omnipresent fear, reinforced every time the toxic-vision set is turned on - 'the virus, the virus. It's out to get you, the virus.'

Trauma, felt now consciously, now unconsciously. People in trauma without even realising that's what they are feeling. Just feeling weird, shaky, so 'off', like crying or shouting for no apparent reason. This is what we have been invited to participate in: a global trauma-based mind control experiment. And it seems to be going pretty well thus far.

Different forms of post-traumatic stress disorder are easily predictable for the foreseeable future. How do not-superly-conscious folk deal with trauma? I have never looked into it very deeply. However, I once worked, about ten years ago, with a young man fresh back from military service in 'Afghan' as they affectionately referred to it. At one point, he was shot and nearly killed, it emerged after a while.

Anyhow, when he first started working with us in the shop he was quiet, almost timid; a little brittle and jittery at times. But then he went wild. All his money disappeared in the pubs and clubs at the weekend. Drink, girls, drink, drink, girls, more drink. He'd turn up to work dishevelled, smelling not too good, half out of it, having bedded yet another local girl the drunken night before. He had no idea what he was doing.

The shop eventually closed down, and he turned up for farewell drinks dressed up as a slutty female, with two female 'friends' as company. He seemed to think this was healthy and normal. I believe he's calmed down since. But this is my main first-hand experience of PTSD.

Another strategy for dealing with trauma is, I suppose, avoidance. Pretend it never happened. You're so relieved it's all over; the nightmares simply get locked away, the key thrown in the canal, never to return - you vainly hope.

When I was young, it always seemed curious that nobody spoke about the War. I was born eight years after World War Two's end, but it was as though it had never happened. The only exception was my mother's occasional relating of watching Coventry burn in the night sky from the vantage point of her home away in Oxfordshire. For the rest, though, a happy silence. Get up, go to work, feed the kids. Job done. The War and the trauma never happened.

This will, I suppose, become a common 'strategy': pretend it never happened; get back to 'normal'. Except that you can't. Your body, your instincts, your feelings, know that it happened. They don't forget. And whenever you go out, it's there to greet you. At every shop, cafe, around every corner. The handwash, the careful-how-close-you-get, the involuntary jerk of avoidance from other bodies should you stray too near. The mask, the mask, the mask. It follows you like a professional stalker: the fear, the panic, the trauma, the virus, the virus.

What I don't quite get, still, is how many people don't realise that this is not all one big accident. These are not incidental side-effects. They cannot be. It was all too obvious what would happen from the outset. It is intended, in-your-face so. Maybe, like trauma generally, that's just too much disturbing reality for many people.

Part Two: Hide That Face!

On a personal level, the mask is the worst mind-fuck of all. I could manage lockdown on a practical, daily level. Everyday life didn't vary too massively from pre-covid ways of going about things anyway. I could still go for a decent walk every day, buy food from the shops (mask-free, until now in Scotland, when the virus has pretty much gone....).

The mask serves to perpetuate the ongoing sense of trauma. This has to be, once again, completely intended. Really wring out the problem, prolong it as long as possible; really grind people down, until they will accept anything to get  out of it. "Here's our nice little vial full of untested shit, delivered into your body by a new and untested method. It's being promoted and financed by a lovely sweet man with an obsession about sticking foreign substances into as many human bodies as possible. He says he wants to see the world's population reduced, and some of his shit-injection experiments have gone horribly wrong. Would you like a shot of his wonderful medicine, to set you free?" "Oh yes, please. Please! PLEASE!"

The key is to realise that the mask has very little to do with health. Especially the health of normally fairly healthy people. And especially the health of people who spent the months when the 'virus' was at its peak swinging and sliding around the supermarkets mask-free without any ill effects. Or the legions of shop workers who, mask-free, put in 30-hour weeks over the entirety of this period, and failed to drop dead or get ill. And who are now forced (in Scotland already) to spend their working day struggling for breath behind a suffocation cloth.

The mask is not about health. It is about ritual. It is a potent ritualistic implement. Ritual is all-important in the transformation of humanity as projected. This may sound a bit strange to some people. To understand this, we need to understand the nature of the archontic mind behind the whole affair.

The archontic mind, we may recall, is devoid of creativity. It lacks any connection with the divine, with Source. It can only imitate, simulate, build upon what is already there; and it is very good at doing so. But it is mechanical in nature; it inhabits and produces a clockwork world. In everyday human life that mechanical, clockwork world unfolds in linear cause-and-effect. Linear time and space. That's how we typically go about things.

But the archon mentality is not physical. It is inorganic and non-physical; mental in more ways than one. Mechanical, clockwork, in the non-physical realm, often referred to as the 4D, manifests in terms of correspondences, synchronicities, 'as above, so below'.

We humans often consider these things as 'Wow' things, spiritual, but they are not necessarily so. They appear so because they are typically 'out there' to the human realm, so we become familiar with them only as we 'expand our consciousness'. But in themselves they are neither here nor there. And learning about such stuff can be used for the good or the bad of life.

Astrology, I-Ching, all manner of divination, are based upon this kind of knowledge. As is magic - which can be white or black, depending upon the wishes of the participants. And as is ritual, which is the manipulation of events through correspondence, through arranging things on the physical plane to match with things on non-physical planes, to put it extremely crudely. Alignment.

So a good deal of the subjugation of the human spirit takes place through the employment of ritual, dark ritual. When people are told to wear face masks - or face coverings, significantly: the clues are in the words - this is not science. It is occult. It is the occult dressed in the ceremonial garb of 'science'.

Face masks are a mass, pop, occult ritual of submission and consent. In order for their black magic to be effective, the dark lords appear to require our consent to start with. They tell us in occult ways what they are doing, or intend to do. This may manifest in words, numbers, 'secret' signs and symbols, clues in statements made to the public, and so on. They are obsessed with such matters because consent is required, and it's all out there for you to see, if you only dare to look. So wearing the mask is saying 'Yes, I agree, I go along with your work, I give my consent to my subjugation'.

The ritual as submission is similar. Look at a person in a mask, especially one of those identikit surgical masks, and you see a diminished person. The face - the personality, the person - is gone. There is no clue as to who or what lurks behind the facade, the barrier. The person is gone.

This is what I consent to, the eradication of myself as a unique intelligent individual. I submit, I give myself up, to something else, to anonymity at the service of a greater power than myself. I submit. I give up my will. I surrender my will to our will. I am all yours.

Should you 'need' to wear a dark occult covering over your face at any time, I strongly recommend doing it with strong personal intent. Say it out loud, which diminishes the magic. 'I do not consent. I do NOT consent.' And maybe at least avoid the surgical mask, which is tops for anonymity. Maybe a Red Bubble mask is preferable (see above).

Watch a bunch of people going around with the masks on. What do you see? Not 'what do you think you see?' Not 'what are you taught or told to see?' No. What do you actually see? 

Images: The Queen wears a mask
             

Mask courtesy of RedBubble (lots of 'no consent' masks on sale there)                         

Anarchy in the UK

OK, I've never liked punk, but it provides some good song titles...

Part One: Personal Anarchy

When I was sixteen years old, I decided that the UK government system was unfit for purpose. It was an authoritarian killing machine run by bastards. Nothing has changed, by the way.

Looking for better ways to run things, I read a big book about Karl Marx and Communism. I became a communist for about a fortnight, until I couldn't take the obvious contradictions any longer - plus the fact that communism and violence all too often went hand-in-hand. Communist-run nations didn't look that good, really.

I went on to some study of political anarchism. I failed to fall in love with the heroes of 19th century anarchism, Proudhon and Bakunin: they seemed very 'straight' from the perspective of a 1969 long hair. Nevertheless, there was a good degree of resonance with anarchism, and I would muse on how the world might have been a better place, had Bakunin won his ideological duels with Karl Marx.

Anarchism appeared to come in two intertwined yet separate strands. There was the collective, syndicalist thread - think 1930s Catalonia - and the more individualistic one, embraced more by artists, writers, philosophers. Ever since, if anybody had pushed me into giving myself a political label, I would have had to opt for anarchism.

Subsequent communal living within a back-to-the-land ethos became a practical manifestation of this core attitude. Our instinct and analysis both told us that the whole shithouse was rotten from the inside. Attempting to work 'within the system' was a complete waste of time, and the only hope for a better life was to re-create a complete alternative.

And it was a similar attitude that coloured the earlier period of my life in Buddhism, a move I made when I realised the primacy of consciousness. In the language of the day, you need to get your head together before you can do anything else worthwhile. So my Buddhism included community living and working in Buddhist businesses. It was a matter of creating a new kind of society.

I submit that the overall thinking was absolutely spot-on. Reforming a system that is rotten to its roots isn't a realistic proposition. Using its own institutions will be pretty much doomed to failure. I have said for years that the reliance of more modern alternative media and culture on the tech giants of Silicon Valley was a very naive and foolish thing, a prediction that has proven all too true in recent years. You need to create alternatives, and if they get taken down by authoritarian psychopaths, you need to brush off the dust and try again. It's the only way.

Part Two: There it is

As so often nowadays, it's there staring us in the face.

Anarchism. Anarchy. An-arch-y. According to the dictionary, 'Arch' denotes a position of superiority. Deriving from the Greek 'archein', to begin or to rule. It also means 'chief' or 'extreme'.

Arch: superiority, ruling. Power, authority, we could add. Arch-angel. Arch-bishop. Arch-enemy. Arch-on. You get the drift.

'An' is a prefix meaning 'without, lacking.'

So 'Archon' is a superior, ruling, authority being. And an-archy is 'without archon'. To live as an anarchist is to live free of the archons. The spirit of anarchism is, at the very least 'small government', 'as little as possible government', 'localised as much as possible government.' Conversely, globalism is the archontic world writ large.

As the covid situation began to emerge in February/March of this year, I found any lingering faith I might have in any authorities simply crumble to dust. Since then, I have failed to believe a single word uttered by an 'authority', at least not without investigating it thoroughly first. Now I understand why.

'Authorities' as generally understood are under the spell, under the control, of archons. They channel the archon spirit into everyday human existence. And it has become clear that the covid situation is predominantly a power grab by the archontic spirit, a massive bid to take over human life and take down the human spirit for ever. Conversely, it is not surprising that authorities are frequently observed being officious, authoritarian, overstepping the mark, during these times. It is the day of the archon, after all.   

The only real solution is for the entire archontic network to be dismantled. The Queen, Westminster, Holyrood; 'aides', 'advisers', 'experts'; scientists; media, the 'news'; education, academia, 'intellectuals'; the current banking and money system; the church; the military, police, and judiciary hierarchies. That'll do for this little corner of the universe for starters. If enough people woke up to what is actually going on, what is being done to them, then this would happen. In the meantime, we're stuck in the shithouse. And planet Earth is sliding towards being off the radar for any consciousness that wishes to commune with its own true nature. 

Part Three; The Aeons

There is something satisfying - er, self-satisfying even - to come up with notions, reach certain conclusions, and find them echoed afterwards in other sources.

I have been reading 'Everything you need to know but have never been told' by David Icke. It's a thick book, like all his books. Actually, although I am familiar with his work generally, this is the first full-length book that I have come to read. And I have only read the first half. The second part goes in depth into matters such as political correctness, woke mentality, modern parapolitics: I know this territory pretty well, and could do without still more of this at the moment.

Anyhow, in the first, bigger-picture, part of his book, he talks about science and its diabolic nature, just as has been elucidated on Pale G.V. recently. And he writes at length and with great clarity on that topic of topics: the archons.

Icke's writing echoes much of what has gone onto this blog about the archons over the years, and in detail recently. I suspect he has sourced quite heavily John Lash, but there is plenty of other material as well. Reading David's sections on the Gnostics and the archons, it becomes possible to describe the Gnostic view of how human life on this planet works in simple terms, and how it's in its dire situation today.

So, very simply, there are three strata to the universe as we know it:

1. The Upper Aeons. This is where we find the Aeons, divine emanations if you like from Source, Infinite Awareness, God even (though Icke does not use this word in this way). These are pure manifestations, from where all creation comes (the language is not to be taken too literally).

2. The Lower Aeons. It is said that the Aeon Sophia, in a disastrous experiment, decided to create without her partner, her counterpart, her consort, outside the syzygy. Out of the Upper Aeons she fell, and what she created was of necessity unbalanced, out of harmony with the divine flow in the universe. This is 'the world' as we typically know it.

Icke effectively calls this creation 'a bad copy'. Superficially it bears some similarities with the divine of the Upper Aeons, but it is not the real thing. It is a simulation, or a 'matrix'. It is the lot of most human beings to inhabit this bad copy of a world, unaware of the Upper Aeons, and erroneously considering it to be the one-and-only reality.

3. As if this wasn't bad enough, the Demiurge, the impostor, the false god, came onto the scene. He pretended to be the creator of everything, but his simple wish was to subvert human life, in particular to disconnect it from the properly divine, the Upper Aeons. This is his nefarious project, and in order to achieve his demonic goals he has an army of supporters and foot soldiers, focal among whom are the archons.

Like the reptilians and various other dark forces, the archons are inorganic. They do not create, cannot create and be original - they have no connection to Infinite Awareness, the source of all creativity - but only imitate and simulate. Their mind is technological, robotic, psychopathic. And here we are.       

David also provides a more 'scientific' explanation of what I generally call multidimensionality, and how entities such as archons and reptilians can move from one (eg human) into another (eg non-human) dimension. The universe is composed of wave-form energy, and we, in our 'third dimensional reality', are simply experiencing a single frequency band among many. But the frequency can be altered, just as on a television set.

Icke appears ambiguous on the relationship between the Lower Aeons and the world of the archons and demiurge. It is a question that has deep implications. At times he writes as if the entire 'bad copy' is the realm of the demiurge, in which case all of our everyday world can easily be seen as nefarious in nature. At other times, he seems to admit what I feel to be the case. The Lower Aeons provide possibilities for human life to go either way.

There exist in the Lower Aeons reflections of the Upper realms: beauty, for example, the best in art; human courage, love, honesty, kindness. Authenticity. These are all like trickle-downs from Source, and proper spiritual existence involves cultivating a likeness in our own lives to the divine, so that eventually a door opens up, a channel through which energy readily flows to and from the Infinite.

The Lower Aeons are the result of a mistake, but through Sophia their creator, they are nevertheless still connected to Source. I think Icke's equating of Lower Aeons and demiurgic/archontic activity is the root of the feeling of powerlessness which can overtake a person (such as me, anyhow) if over much time is spent delving into his information. I love David Icke: his work and example have helped me no like no other over the past few months. I shall remain eternally grateful. But even Icke is not perfect.....

         

Never Mind the Bollox

Part One: Made in China

I waver. Sometimes I think this covid lark is 99% bullshit. Other times I think it's 100%.

At the moment I'm in full monty mode....

I have been conscious of a number of similar comments connected to different articles on the internet of late. All have been saying how they suffered a covid-like illness well before the virus was officially supposed to exist. David Icke reported on a horrible flu-like illness that both he and one of his sons experienced back in January 2020. He said, further, that this was noteworthy, since they rarely succumbed to illness.

The reports I have seen come predominantly from the UK and the USA, dating from especially November and December 2019. People speak of being horribly ill, with something on the chest, a bad cough, and generally feeling awful. Not typical cold or flu, they say. Sounds a bit like 'covid-19' to me.

Add into the mix the recent claim by specialists from Barcelona. Analysing sewage samples (what a job....), they went back as far as March 2019, and say that they found traces of covid-19 during that month, almost a year before the virus is reckoned to have hit Spain.

Put all of this together, and a plausible story begins to emerge. The illness that locked down the world and caused millions to lose their livelihoods was circulating as a nasty flu-like illness way before the 'virus out of Wuhan' narrative hit the world.

The 'virus' did not come out of Wuhan; a test did. What first began happening in Wuhan was not the virus, it was the testing. And, if anyone cares to check it out, it is clear that the test is pretty hopeless. It 'tests' for a whole bundle of things, and was never intended as a serious diagnostic tool. Certainly not intended as anything to base entire world policy upon.

Yes, Johnny, it's a load of bollox

So you have this necessarily crappy test, which is deliberately imprecise and  tests for a whole bundle of things. You unleash it in a city notorious for its air pollution and attendant chest problems, in the middle of winter. In this way you ignite the other things to come out of Wuhan: the fear and panic, and the 'solution', lockdown. Then you transfer attention to another one of the world's notorious hotspots of air pollution, northern Italy, bringing the fear and panic home, ie into the western world. And the rest can look after itself.

The Wuhan lab is a great red herring. 'They' would know full well that 'conspiracy theorists' would grab onto the connection, thereby diverting them from the real paper trail.

The virus does not come out of Wuhan. We do not know this. We cannot know this. What we do know came out of Wuhan was the testing, the panic, the lockdown 'solution'.

'There is not a new virus. There is a new test.' This meme has appeared on David Icke's website on numerous occasions. I finally get what he is saying, I think. He is spot-on.

www.globalresearch.ca/no-one-has-died-coronavirus/5717668

Speculation is rife, naturally, on many fronts. Another notion going the rounds is that the 'coronavirus epidemic' was caused and/or made far worse by the flu jab taken by vast numbers of people every autumn/early winter. One particular suspect is the H1N1 vaccine in Italy. These vaccines apparently suppress the immune systems of adults. It may go to explain the Bergamo mystery. Bergamo is not a particularly large place (population c. 122,000), but it was particularly hard-hit by deaths of old people. Apparently, the city had been the venue for a real saturation-bombing of a number of different flu vaccines.

So these are the two linchpins to the hoax: the test, and the media saturation with panic and fear, which has so hypnotised people that the vast majority have been rendered incapable of standing back and getting some semblance of perspective on the whole thing.

Question: Please, Mister Pale Green Vortex. Why are you always going on about this plandemic stuff? You've been doing it for months now. Haven't you made your point?

Answer: What has happened this year is an enormous play in the game towards authoritarian world governance, effectively the enslavement of the human species. It is a big move towards the end of humanity as we think of it, I say this without exaggeration. I have seen nothing remotely like it during the course of my life. I think it requires going into, understanding, rooting out, and doing whatever lies within our powers to deal with it.

The struggle between good and evil is out on the battleground now, above surface, for anyone who dares take off their facemask to see. If the direction does not change, planet Earth will soon be off the radar for any consciousness wishing to 'develop spiritually', to connect with its true Source. I think this is all worth devoting a bit of serious time to.

Part Two: The New Abnormal

Hey, it's party time. "You bring the masks, I've got the drugs..."

New times require new strategies. Nobody can change the world by themselves. Personally, I am doing a few little things in light of the new abnormal. One is using Bitchute whenever possible, rather than YouTube. There are issues with Bitchute, mainly how it has become the oasis for folk who only want to talk about the Jooz, so do so in almost every 'comments' section, sometimes in not very helpful ways. But, in order to avoid the censorious YouTube...

DuckDuckGo as default search engine. The practical pain in the butt is that, every time the computer updates (=downloads stuff that doesn't work properly, to replace stuff that functions OK), the search engine returns to Big Brother defaults.

This blog will eventually move/transform outside the Google/Silicon Valley big tech world. But don't hold your breath about when. I'm slow on this change, for a variety of reasons.

I am also using cash as much as I possibly can. If people don't want my money, I'll go somewhere else whenever possible.

And I ain't wearing no bloody useless, harmful, face-erasing mask. See Dr Buttar:
www.bitchute.com/video/CHCmJXcktnQE/