Look Behind the Curtain.

The last time I saw heard from him he was in a mess. He had been arrested for assaulting someone in a restaurant and threatening to cut his fucking head off. I couldn’t believe it. First of all I thought he’d got into the drug scene or something, but where he was living there was no drug scene. He told me. He didn’t even drink anymore. Had gone straight. Maybe that’s what did him in.

The straight and narrow is a thin red line slap bang in the middle of the road. The gutter is sometimes a much safer place to be. There tends to be a lot more slack rolling around there. A lot more room to fuck up. Anyone who has known druggies will know this. They’re all in the same boat and they have no expectations. They don’t care if you’re not always perfectly prim and proper. Drug friends will stay your friends no matter what. You can try to kill them one minute then the next day go: ‘ahhh, sorry mate, that trip was deffing me out, it fucked my head in. One moment you were there talking to me and we were having a right laugh, the next instant you turned into a fucking lizard.I thought it was the Reptilian invasion, so I grabbed the first thing to hand, the Bluebird toffee hammer and tried to save Earth. Sorry 'bout that mate.’

“Man that is some FUNNY shit right there. I can’t believe you thought I was an alien. That acid was DA BOMB! Let’s get some more.”

Well, it happened to me anyway but this is the kind of thing that happens when drug people try to kill each other. As long as the shit was good and it wears off and no one is actually killed, then it’s usually possible to explain it within the mitigating circumstance of recreational drug use.

But when you’re on the straight and narrow, drug and alcohol free, and you attack someone and threatening to chop their fucking head off, people just don’t understand. And if you say it’s because you thought they were an alien it just makes it worse.

This is what happened to my friend. At least it’s the bits that made sense between the incoherent ravings that Tuesday hated him for some reason.

This is the message he sent me, I honestly haven’t embellished the style so it sounds like something from a Lovecraft or Poe story, it’s just the way he was I’m afraid. I was thinking of trimming the flourishes but then it wouldn’t be his words it would be mine and that wouldn’t be authentic.

Here it is:

It was a Tuesday when it all started, I’ve since learned that Tuesday’s hold special significance to me but I won’t go into it here.  Suffice it to say that 9-11 took place on a Tuesday. That’s what Tuesday is. It’s a bastard. Ask the Spanish and Greeks, they know what I’m talking about. But you know each day seems to have a special feeling? You know what I’m talking about right? How a Wednesday feels? How all the days are a bit different and how certain things only happen on certain days?

That’s because each day of the week is still owned by the Gods. Always has been. Wednesday is Wodin’s day. Thursday is Thor’s day. It’s interesting how in the ancient languages the same word for Sabbath and Seven are the same or at least related, but that’s because the seventh day was a day of rest for the lord. The lord who talks to me. But the funny thing is whenever I was on holiday I would always forget what day it was and sometimes would have to Google it. I think I just completely contradicted myself. I often do that. I blame reality, it’s too fluid. One moment something works and makes sense, the next moment the world does a 180 and spins you around and upside down. Like the law of diminishing returns, there’s something encoded in reality which ensures that nothing works or makes sense consistently. Like a trick to keep us all guessing so we never really manage to figure it all out.

I walked out the office onto the balcony where the rain had just started. The children below were having their break and they were jumping up and down and messing about in the rain. Kids always stayed indoors when it rained in England. Here they went nuts running outside. The rain was an answer to prayers, it was like God was talking to you and blessing you. Like he talked to me. Though the night before I had heard the low rumble of chemtrail planes furiously pumping the lower atmosphere full of barium salts. It’s what they do. No mystery to it. I read an article about it. The government here have spent millions on the weather modification program. Just like the Greek Cypriots, they paid the Russian military for their programme and they had plenty of rain while I was there. Until the EU decided to steal all the Russian Mafia’s dirty money parked in the Cyprus banks. They’ve had nothing but drought since then. It’s alright for the Turks in the north, they’ve got a water pipeline. They’re laughing. The poor buggers in the south aren’t laughing though. Still, they make some good wine.

I was walking downstairs with my hand in my pocket rooting for a minty sweet and I ended up with my hand all over my cheap but decent Lenovo smart phone.

I popped the sweet into my mouth and walked downstairs to the bathroom. As I was sat there at my ease, enjoying a bit of peace and my minty sweet, I heard this sound. It was a sort of squeaky sound, I dismissed it for a moment as just some random noise coming from outside, but it was strangely insistent and seemed to be coming at me from quite close quarters. It took me a minute to get my head around. It was coming from my pocket. I had a sudden moment of total fear as I realized that I has accidentally pocket dialed someone by the perverse power of mobile accessibility which seems to make it possible for a strong sneeze to quick dial someone completely at random. In a superlative state of sheer panic and horror I pulled the phone from my pocket as if it was a small jabbering beast with teeth. Something or rather more evidently ‘someone’ was speaking to me through the speakers, since people were generally not contacted by things. It was usually people. Well it was always people. Usually.

I held the phone in my hand while trying to maintain my balance since I was presently engaged with an Arabic lavatory which was after all, just a porcelain hole in the ground. I held the jabbering phone and looked at the number, it was someone I had once phoned for an apartment in Abu Dhabi. With a complete lack of guilt or social unease I disconnected the call with a sudden stamp of my thumb onto the red button. It was over. The fear and terror passed. I had been lucky. I had not inadvertently phoned someone, a woman, an old girlfriend, whose number I had taken with no intention of ever speaking to her again.

So I went outside to nip out and get some fuul from the Lebanese restaurant. I checked my phone. It was now 11:18 am. I had less than 12 minutes to get to the restaurant and place my order otherwise I would miss the breakfast window. What was worse was that after breakfast there were no lunch time sandwiches available until 12pm. The worst thing was to get there after 11:30 and be trapped in the food void between breakfast and lunch when there was nothing available. I couldn’t understand why this was the case but in order to beat the void I’d better move.

I picked up my pace, doing an Olympian walk through the playground and to the door which led through the reception area of the school and out into the car park. I got to the door. It was locked. Locked as an obstacle to prevent the Emirati students from escaping. The students were always trying to escape from the school. The doors were siege points and there had been a double door leading from the reception into the playground but this had proved a weak point for the senior school managers and was difficult to defend. 

Sometimes when there were so many students shouting at the students through the wireless microphone and lashing at them with the small canes they had, was ineffectual. The solution had been, in the best tradition of siege defense, to brick up this weak point and replace it with a strong wall which now no longer showed any indication of ever having been a set of doors.

I went to the side door like a cat wanting to come in, and pawed feebly at the locked door until I caught the eye of the security guard. He came over and unbolted the door. It was now 11.20 am.

I smiled and said thankyou and continued the Olympic walking event and almost bowled into Kemal’s father. I apologized and he shook my hands and we then became trapped in an Arabic exchange of pleasantries for two minutes. When I finally got away I was absolutely crest fallen. By the time I got into my car it was 11.23 am.

I took out my car keys and drove out of the school hoping not to get caught in the Lebanese restaurant’s uncanny mid-day food abyss. When I lived in Morocco I had been with this Moroccan girl who believed most of us went through the stations of the Kabbalah without even knowing it, on a daily basis. I thought about this, how now I was at Yesod, hungry and aiming for the transcendental Kether of the Lebanese’ restaurant’s delicious fuul sandwich.  

As I drove the car out of the carpark onto the road I could hear something, it sounded like a small trapped mouse. It was my damn phone again. I must have somehow dialed someone when I fumbled in my pocket for my keys. In the old days of telephone technology dialing a telephone was a comparatively strenuous business and was the kind of action you couldn’t repeat too many times without ending up with a sore index finger. I wonder what on Earth telephone marketers used to do in the old days of rotary dial telephones when obliged to dial number upon number, day after day. I think they had a special finger shield. A kind of plastic sock for the finger which would protect their finger from the repeated contact of the resistant plastic dial. But I might have made that up. I was pretty sure I’d seen such a thing. It was flesh coloured and covered in small nodules and turned the finger into something resembling an exotic looking alien marital aid. 

The little mouse was jabbering away in my pocket but I couldn’t do anything since I was driving.

By the time I got to the roundabout two minutes later it was somehow 11:26. I was fuming at this point. Not now time thief! Give me back my minutes you just stole! I was always having problems with the time thief, I’d taken my eyes off the clock for a second and let my mind drift and when I came back to myself he’d struck, stealing the minutes from right under my nose and thinking I wouldn’t notice. I don’t know, maybe he doesn’t care if I notice anymore, after all if I start saying that someone is stealing minutes from me when I’m not looking what will they think? It’s very hard to prove something like that, but I think if I had the appropriate equipment and laboratory conditions I could probably do it. I should have been a scientist. Curse you time thief, now I was sure to miss the fuul breakfast window and tumble into the prenoon Daath of no food. The abyss of hunger and pointless wasted effort.

When I got to the restaurant I didn’t even dare look at the time and I got out and made a dash for the counter, the clock I could see had a second hand which was now 11:29 and 30 seconds. There was someone in front of me collecting a takeaway and I saw the seconds of hope remaining me crushed with the mindless exchange of trifling metal pieces of small change.  I ordered the fuul with only seconds left to spare.

“I’m sorry, the breakfast is finished.”

“I’ve got five seconds left, look,” I protested showing her the clock.

“No, that time is wrong.”

“What do you mean it’s wrong? Why is it wrong?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know? I repeated.” I was turning into a beast from the sheer force of hunger and the tedium of having to beg for a mere 4 dirham sandwich of cooked fava beans.

Then the manager came and I appealed to him for some fuul, he said he would go and check.

While I was waiting I checked my phone to see who the little mouse voice in my pocket had been. I had dialed my mum! My poor mum caught in my pocket talking to a pen top, a tissue and a strong mint. It’s no way to treat your mum. I felt very guilty.

I felt Gevurah admonishing me. My pocket dialing of my poor mum who no doubt must have felt some pleasure seeing that I was calling her, only to find herself speaking to a pocket full of rubbish and then hanging up whatever the literal equivalent thing is that you do to mobile phones. But then Chesod’s light shone upon me and the manager returned asking me how many I wanted.

“Just two. No make it three.” Then I thought for a moment, “Actually can I have eight.”

I decided to buy fuul sandwiches for all my colleagues and eight ought to be enough to go around.

A few moment later someone came back with a plastic bag containing eight delicious hot fuul sandwiches.

I’d done it. In spite of all the odds I had succeeded in getting some breakfast. I felt the crown of Kether descend upon me in my joy and satisfaction. I felt God had blessed me and in return I would bless the other English teachers with a hot and tasty breakfast wrap.

Just as I sat there I made a determined effort to do something about this tiresome business of pocket dialing. I found an app to prevent pocket dialing, downloaded it and installed it. That should do it I thought. I slipped my phone back into my pocket and was about to drive off when I heard that same squeaky trapped buzzy bee voice. It was annoying because I thought I’d solved the problem but sod it I thought and drove back while the fuul was hot.

As I drove the voice continued, I found it odd that they didn’t just give up and hang up. As I drove I found I could actually catch words they were saying in my pocket. At first it was just a sort of human buzz but then I heard words, random words coming out of my pocket. I wondered if it was my poor mum with the pen top and strong mint again, and for a second it sounded like her, but I heard words she wouldn’t use. Then the voice sounded male for a moment. It was hard to tell really, since I was also driving at the same time.

I wondered what on earth was going on and why the person on my phone was still speaking. It figured it was some kind of sales pitch or something, or a furious ex girlfriend delivering a lecture suddenly finding an opportunity to release or their long festered resentments composted down to the essential bitter nutrients. Just then I thought I recognized the sad pleading voice of my Turkish ex girlfriend.

“Jaymie Jan. Jaymie Jan. Oof ya.” I heard her repeat. Jan is the Turkish word life and putting ‘Jan’ after a person’s name is a term of endearment.  But I didn’t even have her number now so how could I have pocket dialed her? Besides our terms of endearment had long since come to terms and the last time I spoke to her she was still bitter and ranting about all the things she said I’d done wrong.

I tried to tune-in to the sound and just then something came through loud and  clear.

“Look  behind the curtain. We’re behind the curtain.”

I pulled the car over suddenly. This was too strange and specific a phrase, I had to find out who it was. I took out my phone to see who had called me. That phrase ‘we’re behind the curtain’ was weird. Who would say that? except a group of children who’d had enough of playing hide and seek. I knew plenty of children, but for the most part I tried to teach them English, hide and seek wasn’t even on the syllabus.

I looked to see who had called. No-one. There had been no phone call. There was no record of anything.

Obviously it was a bug with the new software. It hadn’t worked and also had the added effect of denying all knowledge of the fact that it  hadn’t worked by refusing to reveal who it was the software had failed to prevent you from finger dialing. It seemed to have software installed which covered up the fact it didn’t work.

Clearly I needed to uninstall it and try something else. Aware that the hot fuul was cooling down, but determined to end this tedious finger dialing charade NOW, I quickly uninstalled the software and downloaded and installed an alternative. It seemed that this was a very common problem and there were at least half a dozen possible software solutions to resolving it. It just appeared the some of them didn’t actually work.

I was starving so decided to waste no more time and got stuck into one of the fuul sandwiches which God had in his mercy, given to me and my friends. I unwrapped the sandwich while looking out across the beautiful Bay of the Two Jaws. Probably the most beautiful spot in the whole county and certainly somewhere in the top ten for the whole Arabian peninsula and pondered the beauty of this place while I ate. The fuul was delicious, perfectly seasoned, like how good baby food used to taste. An unctuous tasty salty pate with fresh chopped peppers and onions.

As I was eating for some reason a long forgotten memory came to me, of a time I had been cruel to my sister with a girl from down the road. A skinny girl with drab black hair in a tight pony tail, with scabs on her knees and a perpetually runny nose. A nasty girl who incited me to do mean things to my sister. The whole strange friendship lasted from summer to deep winter, there was no sense of attraction or anything like a ‘girlfriend’ at least not for me. She brought out a strange desire to be nasty. Some people seem to do that.

This dark period came to an end and I was returned to my usual peaceful and cruelty free solitude when I threw a snowball at her bay window, all in friendly jest and certainly within the spirit, I thought, of our friendship. Her parents didn’t see it like that and I almost thought for one childish moment that I would be hauled off to Borstall, such was the overreaction which greeted me at school the next day at assembly with the headmaster making an example of me to the whole school. The headmaster even got me in his office and jabbed me with his knuckled in his special deadly Taekwondo move which he liked to inflict on naughty boys. Well if she can’t take a joke, I thought. And I never spoke to her again. I think that snowball was a blessing and whatever spirit of infantile mischief impelled me to throw it was really doing me a big favour and removing from my life, some strange unsavoury associations. Even though they were kids. Kids are the worst, most of what happens in the tiny world they live in escapes the notice of the adults living in a world several orders of magnitude larger and operating on entirely different principles, and all under the delusions that kids are cute and harmless, never suspecting the animal hierarchical hell of cruelty they can inflict on each other.

I thought of my poor sister, her childish face, four years old, four years my junior. As Vicky and I amused ourselves by telling her to eat leaves because they were ‘secret garden candy’.

At that moment with that thought I bit my finger hard. Ouch! Another pattern. Whenever we berate ourselves with some past sin karma always looks for an immediate way to make itself felt. Biting a finger while eating a sandwich, stubbing a toe, burning a finger on a hot stove. There were a million ways for the demons employed by the Karmic collection agencies to extract instant payment. I should have been a scientist. I can spot patterns where none thought they existed. Never mind watching molecules and looking for atoms, why not work with the best reality raw material we could ever have? Our own psychological interactions with reality itself.

Damn I bit my finger really hard. You have to keep your wits about you whenever you think about something you’ve done wrong. Have no hot implements to hand, under no circumstances find yourself in a kitchen, and never attempt anything with fingers in the vicinity of hot, sharp, slippery burny things. I had been caught in the Karma kitchen many times in my life and have a collections of burn scars and small cuts to prove it. The demons of Karma could strike any moment as you mind slips into a million avenues of guilt. At that point you are an easy target for anything malevolent. Undefended by your own guilty conscience.

I looked at my finger. It had two teeth marks in the skin.

I tested the new app before I set out to drive. I decided to try to call someone, my mum, since there was no one else I would willingly speak to. Finding myself approaching middle-age with no burdens of my own family and long since having given up on women, I found history repeating itself and my strongest, best and indeed, aside from my sister, my only relationship of any kind with a woman, was with my mother. I didn’t feel inwardly embarrassed by this in the least. I wasn’t a forty year old virgin, I was a forty year old child. Slightly different. Everyone in the world was turning into stone, nothing but grey faced brittle idiots locked in an eternal pose. Same job everyday for ten years, same house, same people. You might as well be parked outside the fountain a grinning piece of rock covered in moss and pigeon shit. 

I hadn’t changed much since my first dim memories of preserved consciousness around the ages of two or three. I knew even then, or at least I was learning fast, that the world was not my friend and it was filled with endless horror. It took me forty years to understand that the world is only the friend to those ‘special people’, who have the ability to trick people, the sociopaths, politicians, crooks and charlatans. Those people generally do very well and are on very friendly terms with the world and its inhabitants. Open and honest people are destroyed or driven to despair. Since I realized that the world was managed in this way I determined that I would personally bring no more beautiful innocent souls here just in order to see them either slowly corrupted, or destroyed or driven to despair. This combined with my final realization that men and women had nothing in common and would be really better off keeping away from each other for as much of their time on Earth as they are able, set me on this course of doing just what the hell I wanted with my life and totally giving up on women, children and indeed, most relationships with other humans since no one really understood my perspective. 

They were just gaudy puppets, going through the motions. I felt I had broken free of the puppeteer, whoever or whatever it was, biological imperative, social conditioning, sense and sensibility.

I dialed the number and pressed the call button. To proceed with the call it was necessary to specifically swipe my finger, the one with the teeth marks in, across the screen to make the call. This ought to work.

I finished my wrap and reversed back onto the main road back to the school.

Nothing more to report on that day.

Two weeks later I was trying to escape from Dubai. I’d found it easy enough to slip quietly into the city, leaving Khor Fakkan and driving through the gaps blasted through the mountains. The wind, funneling down tight mountain valleys and occasionally jumping out into the road and howling at my car with such sudden terrifying force that my car was buffeted sideways. I gripped the wheel tighter, shocked and alarmed at the violence of this angry dry wind which jumped out at people. Perhaps it was a collection of djin who had lived quietly and undisturbed in these dry dead mountains for centuries, playing and shrieking unheard and unsuspected. Now their homes had been blasted open now the humans in their cars teemed all over their formerly pristine desolation. Every day, endless, all day and all night. There was no respite. Even in the heart of their desolation the drumming hum of aircraft or the buzzing splutter of the near infinite army of internal combustion engine machines, carefully detonating high octane hydrocarbons in order to visit their grandmother.

I knew that the wind was alive. There wasn’t any doubt about this. I had discovered this fact in Casablanca. It had quite startled me at the time, and for a moment there was a sight risk of a loss of sanity. I had felt it slipping. The onset of terror. The realization that all around you are the countless billions of dead souls of humans, animals and everything that ever lived on the planet, was still alive and angrily swirling and chasing around the whole Earth in a constant tempest, looking to cause mischief at any opportunity. Knocking things over, scattering rubbish, escalating to tempests hurricanes and tornadoes. Concentrated demonic fury. I thought to myself, how can one be safe? Also while I was thinking this I heard them howl all the louder, I heard disemobied hands, pushing at the side of my apartment with all the rage of the djin of the Atlantic ocean weather system.

My apartment was a penthouse, well it would have been, were it not for the fact that a landlord had built a rather shabby and barely habitable shed on top of it, in which two strangely demon possessed people seemed to occasionally visit. I was sure they were demon possessed because they could read my mind and also, during Ramadan, I would hear them in their barely habitable shed committing all sorts of noisy abominations. Ramadan was supposed to be a time when one didn’t cede to temptation and avoided anything haram, but these two instead doubled down, and were riotously drunk most evenings during the whole month of Ramadan, and these excesses would be punctuated by an alternating pattern of noisy sex and violent arguments.

My apartment stood high in the air, opposite the sea lashed Hassan II mosque, and directly opposite the surging fury of the ocean. In summer it was ideal because the sea air kept the excessive heat of Morocco at bay but in the winter it was a box to be rattled and wracked by the wind while the sea tried to endlessly reclaim the land, knowing that one day it would win its battle.

The wind that had assaulted me in the mountains on the way to Dubai was of a different character, dry and hot, like a fossil wind which had been roving lost in the same desert for tens of thousands of years. But the wind was like an egregor or group consciousness, except it displayed different abilities and strengths in different places. The desert wind was harmless except in as much as it could whip up a sand storm. The wind in Morocco no doubt reported on me to the wind here and this is why I was being victimized in this way, because I knew its secret.

Once I had slid out from the mountains and hit the orange sands of the Arabian desert the situation was greatly improved. The desert was just too open for any fury to really accumulate, so the mountain tempest became a dissipated desert breeze. However once I noticed a solitary desert djinn, spinning the desert sands into a maelstrom. I stopped the car and walked behind him as he made his scurrying spinning way. He behaved very much like a nervous cat which didn’t want to be stroked. I followed him and he kept moving away from me, until once I jumped right into him and felt his spinning confusion rush all around me.  Then he dashed off at an acute angle and since I can’t run diagonally through desert sand I abandoned the chase, got back into my car and continued to Dubai.

As I said, slipping into Dubai was easy. I parked at Rashida station and slipped into the city’s elegant steel and glass metro system, but getting out was a nightmare. Always the same story with cities. They suck you in and all roads lead to them. They breathe you into their circulatory systems through a thousand different routes and inviting motorway exits. But to escape requires a lesson in patience and good driving skills. Several times while trapped on the exit of the D89 and entry to the E311, a sort of motorway limbo between worlds, where civilisations could rise and fall on distant planets and you’d have moved less than four Earth feet. The particular difficulty of a traffic jam here is that there was no sense of order. Cars would continue to fly into the stationary line of idling cars, crow-baring themselves into the exit lane at the last possible moment. Big white dusty buses full of dusty Pakistanis and bus drivers brazenly forcing their wheezy battered buses between a three inch gap.

As I was stuck there, in a rising terror of urban claustrophobia, trying to resist the compulsion to get out of my rental car and just leave it and all the chaos behind while I ran into the peace and protection of the desert, I heard a sound. It sounded like a kind of high pitched whine, like a particularly loud mosquito. As I listened the sound seemed to take form and became a woman’s voice.

“Are you there? Are you there?”

I heard it say. Not my damn phone again. I hadn’t even touched it this time and it still rang.

Then the voice changed to a man’s voice and it said:

“Hold your breath, make a wish, count to three.” I did just as it suggested, I wished that the traffic would start to move and I would be able to get home. Then I heard some music come from somewhere….and then Gene Wilder’s voice singing the Willy Wonka song Pure Imagination. Then I heard the sound of a dozen cacophonous car horns behind me which told me that seemingly a line had opened in the traffic.

To be continued.... 

Four words that could have saved the world.....

What If I’m Wrong?

I write this as a bit of a belated curiosity or postscript to the human race and what could have been if every human being had had this idea drummed into them at an early age until it became an instant habit of thought.

I’m afraid this information is a little bit late, much too late to save Earth and the human race which seems to have piled error upon atrocity for thousands upon thousands of years until we the present occupants of this planet find ourselves no wiser than we did at the start. Sure we have mobile phones and air-conditioning but along with that we have an Earth which we have conspicuously stripped of much of its bio-diversity, as long as a list of human sins and horrors which no imagined hell beyond could equal. 

The Human race seems to have made the Earth its own private hell. Whether through the annals of the Romans, of the inquisition, of Communism or of depleted uranium and white phosphorous used on Iraqi children. Combine this with what I consider a likely extinction level event unfolding in Fukushima and we have an inevitable picture that humanity’s best days are behind it. 

But what if people had done things different? What if Hitler had been instilled with the habit: “What if I’m wrong?” He didn’t have to believe he was wrong, but at least the possibility of entertaining a doubt would certainly have possibly saved the world a great deal of trouble..

What if Tony Blair too had thought ‘what if I’m wrong?’ we would have been spared the Iraq war, deformed nuclear mutant babies and the growth of ISIS.

What if ISIS themselves had the thought ‘what if I’m wrong?’ mind controlled into them by some benign brain washing expert. What if we all had this idea ‘What if I’m wrong?’

But the funny thing is, for whatever reason of human psychology, this is the thought we all seem to experience least. 

Is it because something about animal nature is not about reflection but pure will and action?

Obviously if a cat catching a bird where to handicap itself by asking ‘what if I’m wrong’ about this jump to catch that bird, he would likely starve in due course, but then cats haven’t been given the same kind of leading role in directing the fate and future of a whole planet and all its inhabitants.

What if the Japanese government of the post war had just held back a moment before they decided to allow the Americans to build nuclear power plants along the coastline of a highly geologically unstable island?

What if they had asked ‘What if we’re wrong about this?’. The answer of course we now know, if you’re wrong then you will likely poison the whole Pacific ocean wiping out the largest biological domain on planet Earth, its primary source of oxygen and possibly destroying Earth itself as a life sustaining environment at some point in the future. This answer would probably have given them pause for thought and they would wisely have decided not to be such bloody muppets.

But they didn’t. And humans never do. They never stop for a moment and ask themselves whether they might be wrong and about to commit a major fuck up.

And this in essence, is the tragedy of the rather short story of the human race.

I wonder if the cats will make a better job of it.

As a writer I used to have this great hope that my small ideas and projects would one day come to fruition and be printed and bound and would form part of the great depository of human knowledge and human experience. Now I no longer see any future for humanity, there will be no books or anything in the future since books and knowledge require that the primary need of basic human survival are mastered and the way things are on Earth I rather fear that very soon the human race will be reduced to that condition of day to day survival in a toxic deadly environment where no food will grow and the fish will all be dead or radioactive.

But I could be wrong.

Feminist Gorgon Witches of the Apocalypse

Human Civilisation....what an old fashioned idea.

If it’s a war they want, they’ve got one. This particular writer is taking up arms…well, opening up MS Word, in defence of MEN and society as a whole against the straggly bedraggled feminist witches of the apocalypse.

Such creatures tend to be incubated in the golden summer days of a contented society with hope for the future and they are patronized and placated with university research grants which keeps them quiet and only able to pester and abuse the poor men who happen to enter their university domains and make the mistake, as I did, of studying English Literature and being at the mercy of an insane and over educated elite club of Marxist Feminist Witches.

Dianne Purkiss, Professor of Witchcraft at Keble College Oxford.

However now the golden summer days of human civilization seem to be at an end and to paraphrase the Protocols of Zion they have unleashed their long incubated army of feminists upon a culture in which men and women generally got on quite well, fell in love and hell, even got married and had babies and stuff.

Now, war is upon you, whether you want it or not. The massed ranks of unhygienic femi-witches who celebrate their independence by disdaining showers or shampoo are released from their academic holding pens and the obscurity of the lecture hall, to fall upon the world and prey upon society, draining human gender relationships of meaning or any chance of happiness.

If you are a man then you are in the sights merely for being a man and creating civilization. Everything you have done was always to oppress the wimins and now the reckoning is due. The witches are abroad, casting their spells in the press and assaulting reason and logic for  ‘foul is fair and fair is foul’ just like ‘Fat is beautiful and beautiful is male objectification.’ 

The hordes of broken women, recently empowered by feminism and heavily subsidized by the hidden hand which has waged war on Western civilization, are those whose ugliness and poor character, in a sane world would be rightfully disdained and probably relegated to gardening jobs where they can only inflict their bad dispositions on weeds and the slugs in their cabbages, but in our strange Back to the Future Alternate 1985 world where everything has suddenly all gone wrong, and they are now the new intellectual elite.

Where's the DeLorean? we need to fix this shit!

They have been given the keys to the kingdom of knowledge and they have burned down the house and instead erected an altar to their own unwashed vaginas and only those who have ritually castrated themselves with Marxist Social Theory will be allowed to enter.

An English Literature student at a UK University, or a male Guardian journalist.

One such eschewer of shampoo and reason is Joan Smith. Perhaps once, in Ms Smith’s family there was once a man who made something at a hot iron forge, perhaps horse shoes or perhaps the man mended a plough. Doubtless the man whose name was once Smith served a useful and constructive purpose to the world around him. 

But the fruit has fallen far from the tree and Ms Joan Smith is nothing but a very bad apple, all acid and bitterness. Something which ought to have fallen on stony ground and been allowed to rot quietly away into the mire. But now, she has been given a rich firmament and her bitterness has been watered with years and years of secret delusions.

Likely from the Frankfurt school who once gave her a nice stipend for writing an essay and she realized that being bitter and foul can be a good career move for someone with no discernible talent or ability to provide anything useful or constructive to society.

Ms Smith’s career is built on nurturing discord, discontent and destruction. Destruction of female happiness and the severing of the ancient human bond between men and women. Along with a fascination with witches, atheism and Marxism, an ideology which has so far cost up to 100,000,000 human lives. 

Now women under the spell of feminism have been rendered unhappy and those men who have realized that they no longer need to be sitting ducks for abuse can go their own way. The MGTOW men figure if women have all turned into mad feminists who want to castrate us mentally and literally then why not learn the guitar instead?

With the growth of the internet and the devious trickery of AMP (Accelerated Mobile Pages) which specifically harvests obscure stories from Marxist rags like the Guardian and The Independent which ought, due to the diminishing readership of print editions of these journals, be consigned to becoming  a wet patch in the rabbit hutch of some social worker’s house and his bearded partner who works in advertising, but alas, the internet has deviously brought up all this cat-litter journalism to be endless churned over and over by the power of the internet.

The Trump Show...... Men Love it.

So now whenever I want to check in on my favourite US soap opera: President Trump, I have to be exposed to the views of bedraggled harpies fresh from the blasted Heath assaulting my senses with their snarling misandry and lack of hair-care programme. I hate the Guardian and I hate Feminists, witches, Marxists and Atheists...but I am rather interested in the Trump Show, so why whenever I type Trump into my mobile Google search am I exposed to the views of Marxist Feminist Atheist witches with bad hair? I don't care about you. Leave me alone! Damn you AMP.

Poor hair care example from history.

Joan Smith: Gorgon.

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/feb/19/donald-trump-fragile-male-ego

Trump’s fragile male ego craves the dangerous drug of adulation

It is an alarming insight into how Trump (though, not just Trump) operates. Few politicians, no matter how thin-skinned, have displayed such neediness nor demanded such displays of unconditional love from their supporters. Neediness is not usually considered attractive in men who like to be thought of as tough, but Trump is rewriting the rulebook on masculinity.

 Joan Smith

What concerns me about Feminist Zombie witches of the Apocalypse with poor hair care, is not only that they pontificate on matter of femininity as if they own every woman's gender, but now it seems they are branching out and telling men about being a man, as well as engaging in tiresome gender based attacks of smearing Trump with some kind of sexist gender based attack.

When did you ever read a male writer having a go at a famous woman claiming she was suffering from 'fragile female ego problems' and then goes on to tell the woman what a woman should be?

You don't. You won't hear this, never. Because this man would be labeled a misogynist and not allowed anywhere near a newspaper. He might live in the internet and frequent websites like MGTOW.COM, but be assured that society would be duly mobilised to track such a man down and use any and all power if could to discredit and attack him.

I wonder to what extent literal extent the schizophrenic priestesses of the old mystery religion, attended by a priesthood of self castrated ‘males’ mewling and rolling around like neutered pussy cats, describes the paradigm of this particular author and her readership. History repeats itself, although admittedly, it tends to have a wardrobe change. So what were once the witches and priestess of the mysteries are now female journalists and academics, exhorting the degrees of their mystery, the outer portico or blue-lodge degrees of which are atheism, Feminism and a little bit of Marxism for good measure. Yet what lies beneath? What really happens in the minds of these people, because it's beginning to more and more resemble mental illness.

This is what the End of  Civilisation Looks Like.

Post Script:

http://www.breitbart.com/big-government/2017/02/24/witches-unite-cast-binding-spell-trump-followers/amp/

by THOMAS D. WILLIAMS, PH.D. 24 Feb 2017

A group of witches is attempting to use black magic to neutralize U.S. President Donald Trump by casting a “binding spell” to prevent him from governing.

The “mass spell to bind Donald Trump” will be performed at midnight on every waning crescent moon beginning Friday, February 24, “until Donald Trump is removed from office,” the group’s website states.

The mass ritual will allegedly be repeated again March 26, April 24, May 23, June 21 (the summer solstice), July 21, and August 19.

The spell also invokes evil on “those who abet” Trump, which would seem to appear to cover his staff and political nominees, and perhaps the millions who voted for him as well.

The spell involves such items as an unflattering photo of Trump, a tower tarot card, a tiny stub of an orange candle, a pin or small nail, water, salt, a feather and an ashtray.

“This binding spell is open source, and may be modified to fit your preferred spiritual practice or magical system,” the site explains. What is critical is “the simultaneity of the working” as well as “the mass energy of participants.”

“Some lodges/covens are doing a variation of this as a group working, while a number of solitary practitioners are planning to connect and livestream via Facebook, Twitter, and other social media,” the site explains.

In reaction, a number of Christian groups and individuals have promised to pray for Mr. Trump, asking God’s blessings on his work and on the nation.

The witches’ spell involves a lengthy incantation, calling on spirits and “demons of the infernal realms” to bind Donald J. Trump so that “he may fail utterly, that he may do no harm.”

Calling on the spirits to work the same harm on “all those who enable his wickedness and those whose mouths speak his poisonous lies,” the hex beseeches the spirits to “bind them in chains, bind their tongues, bind their works, bind their wickedness.”

The climax of the spell involves a crescendo “with increasing passion” ending by blowing out the orange candle while “visualizing Trump blowing apart into dust or ash.”

Information from an alleged former Illuminati Insider at Uni High School Illinois.

DISCLAIMER:

Please find here information from what is claimed to be an Illuminati insider. This correspondence was sent to me and also posted over on my forum. This gentleman was attending what he called an Illuminati high school at the time of writing and his experiences relate to this specific environment. He appears to be talking about his experiences at University Laboratory High School Illinois.

I personally cannot vouch for the accuracy of this information and as the writer himself suspects, some of this is likely deliberately intended to mislead the Illuminati member, after all, you can’t mind control people with the truth. 

You as the reader must decide for yourself whether you think the following story is true, I merely print it here as a curiosity and something to consider. 

However there are parts of his story which shed a light on some of the mysteries of the Illuminati such as his reference to sexual activity as a way for members to fend off the development of schizophrenia. I can also confirm the use of trance audio techniques as this is what I experienced in France on a government residential training course which was a cover to join the French Illuminati.

Several sources have repeated that the Illuminati is limited to 6,000 members worldwide. This could be true but personally I do not believe it since I have met so many members of the Illuminati on my worldwide travels that statistically this would not have been possible if there were only 6,000 members, and also in my opinion a group having only 6,000 members would unlikely to be able to exert the power over the world which they current have. 

The actual number of Illuminati members is, in my opinion far far higher, reaching into the millions, since I would classify anyone having psychic connection to the Luciferian hive-mind as ‘Illuminati’ which I think is a far more useful definition since these are the most powerful agents of Lucifer in this world at the present time.

On a side note, I typed in 'Illuminati High school' to see if I could find anything to corroborate his story and found this link to the Unicef (United Nations children's charity organisation) website. 

https://www.unicefusa.org/supporters/volunteers/illuminati-high-school

We aim to educate, advocate and fundraise on behalf of the world's children at Illuminati High School.

Here is the correspondence: 

There's a lot I could reveal, because I've been associated with the Illuminati.

Perhaps I shall start with what the Illuminati told me were the 3 words you should never say.

The Really Bad Words (according to the Illuminati):
1) Theocrat or the Theocrats
2) Pythagoras or Pythagoras Lucifer (the name of the Head of the Illuminati)
3) Illuminati (sort of the obvious word you're never supposed to say if you're in the Illuminati)

I must admit that I'm totally confused about the nature of reality. But---I do know for certain that the mainstream story of how reality works is utterly false and not merely false in good faith out of ignorance, but deliberately false due to manipulation by spiritual powers. So---please take everything I write with a grain of salt (with skepticism); and also note that the Illuminati tell all sorts of contradictory tales to their own members---so I may have been tricked by them. With that disclaimer.....here's my rough view of reality (or at least one version of history).

Around 2500 years ago, there was a Greek man named Pythagoras Lucifer (who is known to history only as Pythagoras), was exceptionally intelligent---reportedly with an IQ over 300, making him possibly the most intelligent man who ever lived. He went to Egypt and learned from the Egyptian priesthood about the nature of the spiritual realm. And he acquired wealth and he went around recruiting the finest minds of the ancient world, which became the Pythagorean Order, which would evolve into the Illuminati.

According to very weird people I've met (who claimed to be angels), the Illuminati were originally a very noble organization of genuine do-gooders. But somewhere along the way the Illuminati became Satanic. I will have much to say about Satanism---it's not what most people think, it's not just evil, it's monopolizing power---it's about full-spectrum power, monopolizing both the power of good and the power of evil.

Who are these "Theocrats" that are a bad word to say? My understanding is this: that in the spirit realm there are numerous exploitative wicked spirits who use religious imagery to trick and capture human souls in the afterlife. So, effectively, all religions on Earth are de facto evil---because the images of religious leaders, whether Jesus or Buddha or angels, are projected by evil spirits in order to gain power over humans in the afterlife. I was told that simply using the word "Theocrat" tends to attract the attention of evil spirits. So---perhaps this might be a word to use with caution.

Anyway, based on what I was told, Earth is in nearly the worst possible situation. And the majority of human souls are captured in the afterlife and end up having extremely unpleasant experiences---AKA Hell.

The Illuminati view themselves as the good guys, the heroes, who are trying to save the world from an evil organization that does rule the world---called variously the Archons or the Overlords. And the Archons are known by the number 333. Whereas the Illuminati are known by the number 666. Anyway, the Illuminati say that they have a "peace treaty" with the Archons, which limits the size of each organization to 6000 members.

But---here's the huge problem that I may be unique in discovering----the Illuminati seem to work hand-in-hand with their so-called enemies. One of the secret Illuminati dogmas (which I'm not sure that most Illuminati members consciously know about) is that God is Satan and Satan is God; and Good is Evil and Evil is Good----this is quite literally what I was taught. So---it seems to me that the world is ruled by a two-winged organization, which I call the Illuminati-Archons, where one side is directly evil (the 333 side) and the other side pretends to be good (the 666 side). And so we are trapped in perpetual duality---the essence of Satanism, forever war, forever suffering.

Perhaps I should add that---there are true angels (I would call members of the Illuminati as false angels or false-enlightened souls), and true angels are working to overthrow both the Illuminati and the Archons. And, all of this seems to be coming to a head rather soon---which is partially the reason you're reading this information now.

On Bloodlines and Reincarnation
On the bloodlines subject---I've wondered about the concept of bloodlines. While in the actual Illuminati (albeit quite briefly and without the standard training), I never heard the word "bloodline" or the idea of ancestry being of any importance.

Here's my skeptical thought: I've doubted the whole existence of Illuminati bloodlines. My thinking on this is: the concept of hereditary membership of the Illuminati seems like something that an outsider speculating on the Illuminati would think---that the Illuminati would be similar to hereditary wealth and power families.

Everyone in the Illuminati has reincarnated multiple times. The average age of the souls of Illuminati members is probably over 500 years old. Personally, I'm on my 5th incarnation, I was originally from the late 1700's. Reincarnation gives a person enormous cognitive advantages. When you hear about young children who speak 5 languages and play the violin and complete college textbooks at age 14.....this is likely a reincarnated person. Personally, I spoke German for a while as a young child, with no exposure to the German language, because in my previous life I was German.

Another interesting feature of reincarnation is that people who reincarnate tend to look quite different from their biological families---to the point where an outsider might ask whether the reincarnated person was adopted. So---there is some type of interplay between the soul and DNA expression.

About Hormones & Psychology
Here's another secret about the Illuminati---they inject adolescents with some type of substance, possibly a hormone or growth factors or something related to DNA or brain chemistry. At the Illuminati-run high school I went to, some of the freshmen boys (12 to 13 year olds....most skip a year), were given an injection of an unknown substance. I was one of the boys who got the injection. The cover story was that it was an immunization or something. It was injected by an Israeli female doctor, who flew from Israel to the USA just to give the injections. I heard a rumor that the injectable was extremely expensive at something like $100 000 per shot and that it had to be custom made for each person receiving it and that it was manufactured in Israel. This was back in the 1990's.

Another big big big secret that the Illuminati know about is that the age of the loss of virginity is crucially important to the development of a child's body and mind. Here's the key secret: the human body is intended to start having sex soon after puberty---as in age 11 or 12 or 13 for boys. And the first time a child has sex is crucial to a cascade of changes to the body and psychology.

I was told that studies had been done on what makes a person successful---and that the findings were that nearly all the great geniuses and super-successful people had lost their virginity at a very young age. And a related secret is---if a person loses their virginity much after puberty, say at age 16 or 18 years old, then that person cannot ever hope to be very successful in life.

Also related to age of virginity loss is: IQ, EQ (Energy Quotient), and height and build and appearance. If one loses his or her virginity younger, they tend to grow taller, have a better build, a higher IQ, and higher Energy (and libido) levels throughout life.

So---the Illuminati strive to make sure that adolescents lose their virginity as young as possible. Age 11 is considered a good age. Meanwhile, of course, society tells the masses---who could rightly be called slaves or drones or peons, the nonsense advice of "don't have sex until marriage." And this deliberately awful advice has the effect of rendering the majority of people too low in EQ and IQ to ever threaten the elites.

Essentially, Western Civilization is a pyramid, and part of that pyramid is due to the "bell curve" of EQ and IQ scores----which is, in part, deliberately maintained as a curve by the people at the very top of the social hierarchy.

On Psychological Trauma and Mind Control
So, here's where I'll reveal another major major major secret (good grammar be damned 3 majors are deserved here); at my Illuminati-run high school, all of the students are put through a form of mind control that involved extreme psychological trauma.

One of the main reasons why I quit the Illuminati (and yes, you should wonder at how I'm still alive---I'll explain later on), is that I remembered the mind control that I was put under at age 13 at my Illuminati high school.

....But 1st some background on trance
So....before I can explain mind control, I should mention the existence of psychological trance. It's possible to put a person into a state of psychological trance---in which the person seems sort of zombified, or sleeping while awake, passive, under the control of an outside voice. I suspect that psychological trance is actually used by the US government broadly on American middle school children---but I shall explain this later. The gist of trance is something like this: there are certain combinations of words, sounds, and pictures, that will put an exposed person into a trance state.

There are audios that, if you put headphones on a person, and make them listen to a 2 minute (roughly) trance-coded audio, then the person will go into a trance state and will become open to being controlled by another person. As an interesting aside, there are actually criminals who use trance in order to put victims into a trance state then command the victims to hand over financial information---I know this because I luckily (or synchronistically) met such a criminal, who told me about her scheme, and also told me that there's a secret law code dealing with crimes of magic (as trance induction is considered a form of magic) that deals an automatic death penalty to any criminal using magic. I was also told that there's a secret US Department of Magic that deals with trance and magic and so on. And yes---I know I'm into strange territory---but I'm just reporting what I've been told. 3 different unrelated people have told me that there's a US Department of Magic.

Satanic Mind Control on Subfreshmen
So....here's the nasty side of my revelations. I think it's good to cultivate a sense of humor about this world, because some aspects of the Illuminati are so very nightmarish---worse than any horror movie. And when you realize that these are the rulers of the world.....it can lead to depression, anger, and despair.

----On a nuisance note, just now, as I write these words, I just received an indicator that someone is watching me via remote viewing.....which is rather annoying, but as I'll explain later on, whenever you even talk about the Illuminati, or you're about to do something that annoys them, they somehow seem to find out about it. It seems we are in quite a prison-----

But---to continue my revelations anyway (you may want to save a copy of everything I write, and even make a hard copy print-out....as the server might "mysteriously" delete all my messages).

At Illuminati High school, there's a 5th year called "subfreshmen" who are not quite freshmen and are considered sort of pre-students, a sort of evaluation year---where the Illuminati decide if they really want you or not. I should probably add that: nobody at the high school ever uses the word Illuminati---which is taboo, if you say "Illuminati" you'll get lectured. So the majority of the students have no idea that the Illuminati even exists. Around 10% or so of the students are in the actual Illuminati---and they tend to be very quiet and very serious and they don't reveal secrets to the regular students.

At Illuminati High, the mind control program is partially concealed by the PE, Physical Education program. There is a gymnasium where one of the PE teachers is actually an Illuminati mind controller, which is actually called a "Healer" in the Illuminati job-classification system. The Illuminati have just 3 archetypal job positions: Fighter, Thinker, or Healer. I was a fighter---which is partially why I'm still alive (as I'll eventually explain).

Anyway, here's what happens to the subfreshmen at Illuminati High school.
There are approximately 66 subfreshmen, and after the mind control there are approximately 60 remaining freshmen. I don't know what happens to the 10%---but I think they may well be dead (as the bodybags part of my story will suggest).

Each year, during the Spring, each of the subfreshmen is told that they must come to a scheduled "physical evaluation" at the gymnasium. And the gymnasium is mostly empty, strangely empty, when they do these "evaluations" which are actually mind control. The gymnasium itself at Illuminati High school has a large oval-shaped indoor running track which sits above a lower-level gymnastics area. And the "healer"---which I'll just call Ms.Programmer from now on, conducts the mind control sessions at a table set up on the running track.

Before you go to the "evaluation" sessions, you're told to evacuate your bowels. You're led up to the running track....and then my story gets horrible. The first thing that happens is---you are stripped totally naked. And there are two burly thugs---who are actually Archon (Illuminati) fighters, they are present to force you to comply. This won't make sense to most people---but the two fighters present were probably 333 Archon fighters, and not 666 Illuminati fighters, because their auras were extremely dark. 333 fighters (which is, as I've discovered a wing of the Illuminati) have black auras, as evil murderers do. 666 fighters have bright auras. So, this is part of why I realized that the Illuminati 666 is actually extremely evil---because they work with 333 fighters (who the 666 Illuminati claim are the "real bad guys" who rule the world that the "good" 666 Illuminati are fighting against). Sorry if this is confusing---it would take a lot of background knowledge to begin to explain the Illuminati.

Anyway---during the mind control session, Ms.Programmer puts you into a trance, and makes you extremely frightened. All sorts of mysterious psychology. She reads something like nonsense poems that have some sort of psychological effect. Stuff like "imagine a butterfly on the wind, imagine how graceful the wind feels, imagine a beautiful baby with the butterfly landing on his nose, now imagine a tree being sawn with a sharp metal saw, now imagine the baby being sawn in half, now imagine how the baby's blood spreads in a pool...." weird stuff like that. I specifically remember the cutting a baby in half part---the rest is my impression of the gist of it. There were all sorts of just random words in the "mind control poetry" reading, like "cherry tree, number 529, godzilla stomping, a lightswitch" just random-seeming word combinations.

Anyway....Ms.Programmer put me in a trance. And I remember one of the tests she did on me was to ask me to hold my hand up---and to my horror my hand seemed to be under her perfect control. I had no volitional ability to not do what she told me. If she said "put both hands up" my hands shot up---without my moving them. It felt as if I had become a prisoner in my own body. And I was completely terrified.

Anyway---on with the horror. Ms. Programmer wielded a very scary looking dagger. And she said that she enjoyed cutting off penises and that she had a jar at home of boy's penises in formaldehyde. And she said that she would love to add my penis to her collection if I failed the test that I was about to be given. She held the knife to my genitals and also to my throat. She also said that she and her two fighters had just mopped up all the blood with towels of the last person to fail the test. And she showed me a bloody towel.

Ms.Programmer pointed at several body bags that were stacked off to the side. I believe there were 3 body bags, that looked like they contained presumably bodies. She also told me that there were demons present in the room that would carry me straight to Hell if Ms.Programmer killed me.

I was mostly utterly terrified, and just trying to survive. I remember trying not to wet the chair because I was trembling and spasming in terror.

Anyway---the "test" part is a bit blurry. But here are the basics. Ms.Programmer said that she had been through this horror herself many times, and that she had been through far worse than what I was being put through. She said that Satan was God and the sooner you acknowledge that Satan is all powerful the better off you'll be.

Ms. Programmer said that Satan was watching in the room at that very moment, and that Satan personally watched all of the test sessions given to the subfreshmen. Part of the "test" was that I was forced to say various very-evil feeling statements. Here's some of what I remember being forced to say: "God is Satan and Satan is God"
"Good is evil and evil is good"
"I accept Satan as my father"
"[Ms.Programmer] is my mother"
And Ms.Programmer said that I had been successfully castrated. And she said that "Satan has all the penises." [As an aside....I know this is bizarre---it must have something to do with psychology and symbolism that I don't understand at all].
During the "test" I was told that I had better put all of my might into saying and believing everything I was told to recite. And that if she didn't think I was putting my whole self into the test that she would castrate me and then cut my throat. I don't remember all of the phrases---I was terrified, but it was all sorts of nightmarish garbage.

Anyway, I was told that I had failed the test. And then Ms.Programmer went with all-white eyes (the mark of 3rd eye trance), and she returned and said that I had been barely been granted as passing the test, on the authority of some powerful figure (possibly Pythagoras---the head of the Illuminati), and that normally I would be sent to Hell, but I had squeaked by.

The last part of the mind-control session was about some sort of command words. I don't clearly remember any of them. But there was another reading of random-sounding words. And, interestingly, there was what she called "subaudibles." I don't remember clearly if she had some sort of audio playback device or not. But part of it  had her saying something like this "you're going to freeze whenever you hear this"....and "now I'm going to play the subaudible, you won't hear anything." So---my takeaway from this part was that there's something called a "subaudible" command word. And apparently it may be a command word that is played at a decibel level that's below the threshold for conscious hearing. And---the other very interesting (and sinister) part I remember is (and granted I'm sort of foggy on this), but I think there was some sort of command where I was supposed to die if I heard it. There may have been a command for "commit suicide right now" as well.

Anyway---here's the big important part:
I believe that I am the only graduate of Illuminati High school who remembers the mind control session.
The reason this is important is---everyone in the Illuminati thinks that they worship the "True God" (not Satan). And they all think they are the good guys. They think they are fighting against evil.

And---I know many people who study the Illuminati think the Illuminati is just evil. Well---another revelation for Illuminati Studies is that there are actually 2 quasi-independent organizations, both of which people call Illuminati. The 666 Illuminati has 6000 members and follows Pythagoras. The 333 "Illuminati" or Archons or Overlords (whatever you wish to call them) also has 6000 members, and they are obviously horrifically evil, worshippers of Satan, torture people for amusement, monsters.

So---this has been a long post. But I hope you might realize that:
I'm possibly a major historical figure in exposing the Illuminati
If I could prove to my ex-fellow Illuminati members that they are all under mind control, and that the 333 Archons are actually the masters of the 666 Illuminati---then it's possible that there might be a lot more Illuminati defections.

I would also add that I believe that most Illuminati members are under much heavier forms of mind control than the "general mind control" that I just described that's done to (I believe) all of the subfreshmen at Illuminati High.

The bona-fida Illuminati members are under round-the-clock surveillance. Being in the Illuminati is essentially like being a prisoner who thinks he's a hero fighting for God against the forces of evil (the 333 side) that actually rule the world.

I also received this email from him:

There's a lot I could tell you about the Illuminati.
And---what you said about kids experiencing "missing time" (as I call it) is something familiar to me.

Basically---Uni High in Urbana Illinois is run by the Illuminati. And I was briefly recruited into the I

lluminati proper.

About the missing-time phenomena----I witnessed students at Uni who would sometimes be pulled out of class, and I remember seeing one girl -name removed- who was pulled out of class and she was acting quite strangely, sort of giddy and unlike herself. And the next day she was back in class, and she seemed very confused about not remembering the previous day. And there was something about her getting a homework assignment back and saying something like "that's not something I would write, yet it's in my handwriting."

What causes missing time? Well---mind control is the short answer.

There's a lot about psychology that's kept secret---and much of it relates to spirituality, to sex, to libido, to trance states. I certainly haven't got it all figured out, but if it would interest you, I can offer significant clues.

Have you ever heard of something called a "trance doctor" in the UK? This is one of those big weird secrets that will likely sound very conspiratorial.

Honestly, I wouldn't blame you if you think I'm a nut. But---I hope I seem at least like a somewhat intelligent nut. You might note that Uni High has all sorts of famous intellectuals---it nearly always has the highest test scores in the whole USA, and 3 Nobel winners, ambassadors, professors and so on.

Well, on trace states---I believe (/suspect because I cannot totally verify this) that there is a system of medical doctors in the USA who are trained in how to put people into psychological trances. And the main reason why I believe so is that I've encountered them multiple times, and I've also met people who have talked of their existence.

Memory is sort of a critical puzzle in all this. We tend to have a naive view of our memories as freely available---as if you may remember everything that ever happened. I'm not sure how memory actually works---but I suspect it relates to some unknown property of physics and to unknown properties of psychology---perhaps involving some sort of collective-consciousness based memory. I say this because I have encountered the repeated phenomena where people who once knew things, who once had certain memories, later seem to lose those memories---specifically on taboo topics.

It seems as if there were some sort of spiritual memory-destruction system. Or, more radically---it may even be that "our" individual memories are not primarily stored in our physical brains---but are dispersed in some sort of society-wide collective memory system, which might explain how human memory could somehow be altered or erased.

Anyway---I could probably write a 300 page book about my experiences with Uni High and the Illuminati. I'm in a rather awkward situation now---in that I've basically told the Illuminati to go to hell....and afterwards my life just utterly fell apart. Very negative coincidences (like I got rammed by a truck that didn't even seem to brake---and had a 333 car plate, which is a mark of one wing of the "Illuminati"---there's a lot to explain). So---I'm not overly sure what to do. Also an unknown fighter, who I believe was Illuminati, tried to kill me (in a way that would also require a lot more explanation---there's a way to kill people using 3rd eye trance combined with projecting energy---it would take a lot of explaining).

So---if you're interested, I could tell you a ton of stuff. One problem I've found is that most people, if you say "Illuminati" they will just dismiss everything. Humanity seems tragically closed minded.

There's a lot of libido-related stuff in the Illuminati. And---this is something I don't fully understand. Do you know about energy? About libido energy?

At Uni High, we had a ritual, just the boys, for the Freshmen, in which there was a darkened hallway, and there was a torch. And we were told that "this represents the torch of the Enlightenment and we are carrying the torch to the next generation" sort of ritualistic claptrap. And the gist of the message was the following: all boys needed to lose their virginity as soon as possible and this was priority 1, and that lack of sex would cause schizophrenia, and that this was called Oral History because it was forbidden to write this knowledge down, and then we were forced to swear an oath to say something like "I swear to keep this information secret and I swear that I shall kill anyone who dares reveal it."

My understanding is: that each person has an "energy level" which could also be called libido level (as energy is primarily expressed as libido---which is the sex drive, but also the general power source for motivation and intellectual pursuits). And that this libido level is crucial to a person's success in life. We were told that all the world's most successful people lost their virginity at a very young age--like 13 or so. Sort of as an aside---I actually had sex at my high school at age 13 in this weird basement room (which perhaps I'll ramble more about later).

Anyway---we were also shown, during one class, these graphs which showed distributions of IQ, Intelligence Quotient, alongside EQ, which means Energy Quotient (not---I might add Emotional Intelligence---which is also sometimes called EQ), the measure of libido energy potential. And it was shown to us that there is a correlation between IQ and EQ---which effectively means that the younger a person loses their virginity, combined with whatever natural energy aptitude, influences their intelligence. And we were told that Success in Life = IQ x EQ
In other words: a person must be very intelligent and also have a very strong libido to accomplish very much.

I was also taught that partnered sexual intercourse replenishes energy. Whereas non-partnered masturbation would decrease energy. And that if you avoided sex for too long, and your energy level dropped too far---you would then end up with what's classified by society as a form of schizophrenia. And that society classifies low-energy as schizophrenia because society could not possibly admit that some people have "psychological problems" that are simply based on sexual energy problems---because 1) this would force society to admit the existence of libido energy---which has spiritual qualities. and 2) society couldn't possibly cure people's problems by giving out "medical" sex---because prescribing sex to a patient would upend the whole secret game of sexual competition.

Also---interestingly enough, I once met a woman from the former Soviet Union and she had very interesting things to say about sex. For one she said that the Soviet Union had a system of "sexual reward officers" and that she was one of them---and that they basically were only Peter Folk of Urbana Illinois
Nasri Hajj of Washington DC
Matthew Bandy---Illinois?
Jeff Thorn--at Boeing Co....

These are real Illuminati members....and I could probably list a lot more.

None are "rich and powerful" because the Illuminati work through spiritual means----there's a lot more to explain, but basically magic is real and it's enormously politically important. barely like escorts. She told me that calling her an escort was a gross insult, but that there was really no English translation of her social position---that these Soviet "sex officers" (I forget their name) were well respected, sort of like police officers. And that she was to have sex with certain men as a reward for good service to the Soviet Union---but to perform sex as a representative of the Soviet system---not as an individual. And---she also noted that there was a system of sexual socialism in the Soviet Union and that the rate of so-called schizophrenia in the Soviet system was much lower than in the USA. I add this because it jives with the other information.

One of the things at Uni High that was done, was partnering students together to exchange sexual energy. And the stated purpose was that: if you exchanged sexual energy with someone who was particularly talented in some area, that it would increase your future ability in that area. So as a specific example, there was one young man, named -name removed- --who is now some sort of PhD of chemistry---who was extremely talented at mathematics. And he would sometimes pair up (in private I only heard about these things) with other students, male and female, and they would exchange sexual energy by masturbating together in close physical proximity. (and yes, it sounds very awkward---I was told that boys would masturbate standing back-to-back).

So---the interesting thing about this secret is that it implies that the exchange of sexual energy does something to the mind---perhaps it creates a lasting subconscious connection? Perhaps there's some sort of "imprinting" of memory?

Anyway---I've had two different people in the US military tell me nearly the same thing----that the US army, back in Vietnam, had what they called the "buddy system" in which men---who were away from sexual partners for a long time, out on duty in the field---would be instructed to partner up with another male, go off somewhere in private, and masturbate together in order to replenish their energy levels. And---another man in the US navy told me nearly the same thing about the so-called "buddy system" of partnered male masturbation.

Maybe I should mention the basics of the Illuminati.
There are 6000 members of the Illuminati 666. And---when I was recruited into the Illuminati I was told that the Illuminati are the freedom fighters trying to save the world from an evil organization variously called the Overlords or the Archons (I call them the Overlords), which rules half the world and also has 6000 members. I was told that there was a treaty between the Illuminati 666 and the Overlords 333. I use those numbers, because those triple digit numbers show up on everything connected with them.

As an aside---one way I've thought of "proving" some of this is by taking photographs of car license plates of people from Uni High---a very large number of which contain the number 666 (and until I resigned from the Illuminati, I had 4 different cars, each of which "randomly" contained a number 666 in the plate). When you see a parking lot photo, in which half the cars have 666 plates---it should make even a skeptic about synchronicity and numerology wonder at the long-odds of that being a random coincidence.

Anyway---the reason I resigned from the Illuminati is that I remembered something major that I went through that I don't think most Illuminati members even remember----namely being put under mind control by an extremely evil trio of people----who seemed to be part of the 333 Overlords organization. And plus there was other evidence pointing towards my conclusion: that the "enemies" of the Illuminati---the "overlords" are in fact a wing of the Illuminati.

If you've read the novel 1984---in which there's an evil government that sets up the very resistance movement against itself---that's roughly my understanding of the Illuminati-Overlords. To make it a little weirder----to get slightly Biblical---I note that the Book of Revelation talks of a two-part organization---the Beast of the Land and Beast of the Sea.....with the number 666......which seems plausibly connected to my experience.

So----I'm not really sure what to think----there's a lot more to explain. But I left the Illuminati after.....roughly 6 months---so I never got the proper Illuminati training. I know much less than a typical Illuminati member.

If you want some names:
George Gruschow, of Chicago

So----sorry if this email is rather rambling, but I hope you find it somewhat interesting. You might read about Pythagoras and the Pythagoreans---who became the Illuminati----they basically skyrocketed in knowledge. I was told that humanity took the materialism route, and the Illuminati learned astral projection and took the spiritual route---and the spiritual route leads to vastly increased knowledge and intelligence (there are beings with 300+ IQ scores), and this allowed the Illuminati such enormous power that they focused on defeating the Overlords---a rival spiritual order---and gave up on communicating with humanity. Although now---I suspect that's all a lie.

Anyway---the interesting thing about me is: I may be one of the very few people who was in the Illuminati who is free-enough of their control to actually talk about them. I don't think I mentioned enough that everyone in the Illuminati is under all sorts of mind-control, and they are watched 24/7....it's like a prison---it's surely not caviar and luxury and the nonsense most people think it is---it's pretty much a horrific job.

Well---perhaps I should write that 300 page book:)

I hope that something I've written will resonate with you, and perhaps you might share any thoughts you have, or any weird secrets you know (I'm trying to solve the mystery myself).

And yes, there are people who can read minds. I don't know how. People in the Illuminati described something called influencing---as a psychic skill. It was said to be something like "reading the cartoon thought balloons" above a person's head, and popping the unwanted balloons---as a way to influence what a person would say and think.

When I joined the Illuminati, they gave me a couple code-names. Everyone gets multiple code names. And the weird thing is: they also gave me a website to download videos and music and audios.

I'll give you one of the websites related to them....
https://defocontrey.wordpress.com/
Which seems like just some random person's site. The odd things is---this person's voice is very much similar to mine.....it was rather creepy to first listen to some of the audios.
I was told that each one of us in the Illuminati is given multiple avatars---and that an avatar was something like a clone of your soul.

So----I know this is very odd territory---I don't pretend to understand it. I guess I should just work on my book---I've written a lot, it's just not edited and well-written.

I'm in the odd position that I was only in the Illuminati effectively very briefly---as in, I never received the standard training that they get---they can do all sorts of amazing things, they can watch anyone anywhere somehow. But---I think I also missed out on whatever mind control that new Illuminati members get put through.

I did get put through mind control---when I was 13 at Uni High, just like everyone else at that school. But---I only recently got "re-recruited" in 2012...but after around 6 months I told them I wanted nothing more to do with them, partially because I remembered the mind-control I was put through at age 13---which is something that I don't think anyone else remembers. But I assume that, had I been given training in 2012 or 2013 that it's very plausible that they would've put me through whatever enhanced mind-control that I assume they are all under.

Anyway---maybe I've rambled enough. I should say that Illuminati members seem like the nicest people you would ever meet--they don't seem evil. They say that they worship the "True God." But---one of the things I remember from my 13 year old mind-control experience (which was nasty), was that "God means Satan" and I was forced to say "I accept Satan as my father," and also accept the mind-control woman as my mother---who knows the psychology of it all.

So---I've got a lot to write about.

One thing you could verify is that Uni High has 333 in the phone numbers....and.....if you wanted to bother with researching the alumni of Uni High, nearly all of their home addresses have multiple 6's in them, such as 1616 Somewhere Road, or 626 Niceview Drive....and so on. I add this because it's something verifiable---hopefully proof of odd numerological synchronicities.

This was the last email I received and it's been nearly a year since I heard from him. I hope he's ok.