Popstars of the Apocalpyse 2. Act 3 Scene 5

The forgotten top floor of the Senate building in one of the colleges of the University of London. The rooms have not been used since the early 1970's when the physics and nuclear research department, under public pressure around the safety concerns of nuclear research being carried out in the crowded urban areas,  moved out from the top floor of the Senate building to an undisclosed underground location in the middle of what used to be marshland in Stratford, but what is now part of the 2012 Olympic village. The reactor is still on the site and is occasionally switched on for tests, but the buildings have been renamed The Claygate Climate Change Centre, and nobody really pays it any attention.

The corridor is dusty and abandoned, there is rubbish and random mess that has not been tidied since the early 70's. An old copy of Beat magazine from August 1971 with the Osmonds on the cover lies torn in a corner while random bits of unidentifiable electronics junk lies scattered in apparently random distribution. 

There is a loud electronic humming noise outside a door marked Artificial Intelligence Research Laboratory. 

Crew and Steve knock timidly on the door. They hear loud sounds of electro static discharges.

Dr Kemble: from within Turn it up, the signal is getting stronger. Yes, I can see something it's coming through. Remarkable. Turn on the modulator.

John Hampton: Which one is the modulator?

Dr Kemble: The black button with the bee sticker on it and the words Bravo.

John Hampton: he presses the button I meant to ask you about that. Why a bee?

Dr Kemble: They were left over from a French teacher I suppose, don't know how they found their way up here. Besides if this should fall into the wrong hands noone would know how to use it without the key.

John Hampton: I see, so what does the turtle with the words 'genial' written underneath do?

Dr Kemble: The turtle cuts out the background radiation. Protects the receptor from stray inputs the same way a shell protects a turtle from attack from animals I suppose, there is a kind of reason and logic behind the indicators but hopefully too obtuse for anyone who might try to steal the machine.

John Hampton: Why would anyone steal the machine, nobody knows about it except for me you, the boys and a wooden puppet.

Dr Kemble: Oh my dear Johnnie, I thought you more than anyone would know by know that someone always knows what you're doing. It's just a question of not giving them any reason to try to disturb you.

John Hampon: So why a bee?

Dr Kemble: Listen, after a few seconds there is a buzzing sound as the modulator starts to work on the signal.

John Hampton: Ahhh.

Suddenly there is a knocking sound.

Dr Kemble: Hmmm, that noise is not normal. There must be a problem with the signal transducer.

John Hampton: It's the door.

Dr Kemble: confused and examining his equipment door? There is no door. You mean the flap for the signal correction panel? It is not making this sound?

John Hampton: returning with Steve and Crew The door door, the door to this room.

Dr Kemble: with delight Ahhh marvelous, now we have test subjects to work with.

Crew: Test subjects? I don't like the sound of that?

Dr Kemble: Why not, we have you to thank for all this and we seem to be making some clear progress. Look!

Crew: looking at the TV screen unable to see anything except for TV static I can't see anything professor.

Dr Kemble: Look there, do you see it?

Dr Kemble points Steve and Crew to a specific area on the bottom edge of the screen. 

Dr Kemble: Look, there particles that are firing here, notice that they are firing in the opposite direction to the other signals.

Steve: Is that it? I thought we were going to be able to see actual pictures of them, not just fast moving white dots. How can we communicate with that?

Dr Kemble: It's early days yet. All of this static you can see here, this is all electromagnetic radiation, some of it from Earth telecommunications, some of it from all the signal sources in the city and roughly one percent is from the big bang you know. Well if we can shield the source collector from all of these sources and somehow strengthen and focus our source then we will be able to develop the signal into something. At least it's possible but it all depends on how strong these spirit signals are, noone has ever recorded such things.

Steve; Actually that's not quite true.

Dr Kemble: turns to Steve and raises an eyebrow Oh? You're referring to the William Crooke no doubt? A brilliant chemist but rather a poor judge of human character, I'm afraid he was duped by some extremely unscrupulous people, much like Conan Doyle another great mind sadly marred by one fatal flaw: an over willingness to believe.

Steve: Actually I had Uri Geller in mind.

Dr Kemble: He was big in the eighties. Used to have a way with spoons. What do you know about him?

Crew: interrupting He worked with The Mossad on psychic affairs, and the CIA.

Steve: Thanks Crew but I was the one talking to the professor. He worked with a man called Andrija Puharich on a round-table project called The Council of Nine. All connected to the Illuminati Astor and Bell families.

Crew: interrupting The Bell family is old, so is Astor, they both go back to Canaan and the ancient middle east. The Bells are related the priests of  Baal bloodline and Astor are the priest of  Astarte.

Steve: Puharich was working on contacting extra-terrestrials who claimed to be the pantheon of the nine archetypal Gods of ancient Egypt. Geller was the channel and he would receive these messages from outer space, then apparently he would start to receive messages directly transferred onto magnetic cassettes. This was all taken very seriously and there was a lot of money involved because these people wanted to get hold of ideas and concepts for new technology and like the Nazis there was a lot of currency to the idea that such insights and information which can revolutionise the world comes from the interested other dimensional beings communicating with humans. Then they changed their story and claimed to be an alien race known as Rhombus 4d from a planet called Hoova.

Dr Kemble: So you're saying the myth of Prometheus might not be merely a myth. That these 'things' out there which communicate with us and help us with our development.

Crew: Yeah. What do you think?

Dr Kemble: I don't have a strong opinion. It's possible of course, but it's equally possible that innate human ingenuity can go a long way in these matters especially when beings claim to come from a planet known for vacuum cleaners. Perhaps they invent that who knows? Along with the Corby trouser press and the Goblin Teasmade.

John Hampton: interjecting Steve raises an interesting point. How do we even know that whatever beings we contact are even rock stars at all? What if it's all part of some deception? We need to be wise to this possibility. There was a chap, a journalist who investigated psychic phenomenon and mediums. He wanted to figure out if the whole thing about spirits was real and whether the mediums who were supposedly in contact with these spirits were sincere. He discovered that the mediums were sincere but the spirits were not. They always pretended to be something or someone they weren't. Fisher spent hours and hours of research investigating the stories from these channeled voices from beyond, and every time, some fact or element of their story was out, he could find no evidence of their actual existences despite the fact that nearly all the details of their story were correct.

Steve: So what happened?

John Hampton: He realised that something else was going on, this wasn't just about whether the mediums were lying or whether spirits really existed. The sheer depth of knowledge exhibited by the spirits assured him they were a real disembodied intelligence, and the complete variance of this knowledge to the lives of the mediums who channeled these intelligences assured him that they had no conscious role in any deception. However the inescapable conclusion he came to was a terrifying one, that not only were these spirits not quite who they said they were but they weren't actually human and never had been. They were something else.

Crew: Demons?

Steve: Aliens?

John Hampton: Who knows? But certainly not human. They were something which needed human attention for some reason to give it reality. It needed to possess people and be communicated with, and it seemed to have access to whole lifetimes of knowledge upon which to create a mosaic of an invented life on Earth so its words from beyond the grave would be listened to. But the spirits Joe communicated with had never existed as humans on Earth.

Steve: What happened?

John Hampton: Joe Fisher killed himself by jumping off a cliff. He told his editor shortly before his death that the spirits were still after him for having written his book exposing them.

Crew: Dayum.

John Hampton: That's right. So whatever comes through that screen, if it ever gets beyond the stage of moving white dots of static then we'd better be circumspect and be on our guard.

Steve: But we met Jim. Jim's real.

John Hampton: Sure, but that's not to say someone might not sneak through who isn't on our guest list.

Crew: Yeah, like Whitney Houston. She sucks. I don't want to see her ghost warbling on my telly, it was bad enough having it as a number one for ten weeks. No escape from that mad screaming ego with voice like a frigging ambulance siren.

Steve: Agreed. No Whitney. And no Jackson. Kid fiddling Pepsi swilling muppet come later day saint. First sign of Jackson's black or white face and I'm putting the boot into that machine.

Crew: Deal.

Dr Kemble: while fiddling and tinkering I appreciate your high standards and stringent entry requirements but there is no question of damaging the equipment I've spent so long messing about with continues fiddling and having a sudden idea spots a biscuit crumb and puts it in the machine. By Jove, I think I've got it.

The screen is suddenly clear of static and a shadowy human form is visible. 

Crew: Wow what did you do? How did you reduce all the signals you mentioned?

Dr Kemble: The technological miracle of biscuits. Just a shot in the dark but a perfectly logical one. The biscuit contains fat much like the human brain and serves equally to filter out any extraneous signals which are not required, while serving to strengthen and channel the internal signals we DO need. Well how remarkable. As a scientist I'm continually amazed what a fine sense of humour the universe seems to have sometimes.

Crew: So who is it? It's not Whitney or Jackson is it because I don't want to talk to them.

Dr Kemble: It's hard to tell, we need some way of creating light relief.

Crew: Like a few jokes? Have you heard the one about the ex-pat business man on the Japanese golf course?

Dr Kemble: No and I don't want to. But that's not what I meant by light relief. I mean shading, we need to find a way of shading the features and creating different tones of shades before we will be able to see anything.

John Hampton: Hmmmm. It needs a filter of some kind. Crew, give me your sunglasses.

Crew: Sure.

John Hampton: putting them on No, these are no good. What about yours Steve?

Steve hands over his sunglasses to John Hampton.

John Hampton: Putting on the sunglasses Oh yes that's the ticket. Here Philip, try these on.

Dr Kemble: Oh my, yes, the polarising lens works perfectly. So who is this young lady?

John Hampton: If I'm not mistaken this young lady is called Amy Winehouse.

Crew: Amy Winehouse? We picked up Amy Winehouse? Oh yeah. Talking to the shadowy figure on the TV. Can you sing Valerie for us? I love that. You were so awesome  Amy, I saw you at Glastonbury. Why did you punch that bloke though? And why did you come into the audience, what were you looking for? starts singing Lionel Ritchie Was it me you were looking for?

Dr Kemble: She can hear you, but we can't hear her. So there'll be no greatest hits shows for the moment until I figure out a way to channel sounds from the ghost world. In the meantime we all need to get hold of a pair of polarised sunglasses.

The Cain Transformation. Part 5.

I saw the advert on Easyroommate.com as I was sat in an internet cafe in Brighton after deciding that Brighton suffered not only from an exorbitance in the price of pints of beer and a marked lack in the availability of reasonably priced accommodation, but also a preponderance of tedious and noisy stag and hen do's which seemed to largely mar any appeal the quaint town centre pubs might have had. 

As a result I decided to move on to Bournemouth and see what it was like to live there. It turns out it was a much calmer more spirituality grounded place. Having got off at the bus station I made my way with all my bags to a rendez-vous at 10 Capstone Place and stopping at the bus-stop to rest and catch my breath from my portable portmanteau which I had dragged pushed and heaved all the way from New Cairo, I found myself talking to an old man. 

He told me that Bournemouth is apparently one of the happiest places to live in the UK, a place where apparently there is a certain un-namable 'something' in the air which resonates peace. I found this to be true and this indefinable sense of innate comfort, peace and security, seemed to extend as a blanket all the way through Dorset and Wiltshire and continues all the way through Devon and Cornwall. Almost like an ancient blessing or a magical bond of protection cast by the Wizard Merlin himself. 

This mystical and sacred shroud of peace seems to begin at some point in the New Forest because once you get to Portsmouth you are clearly in the brutal and jarring 'real world' and perceptibly beyond the confines of the mystic blanket of what C.S Lewis called the nation of Logres, that is, the old sacred civilised heart of ancient Britain and the core of all its finest traditions of humour, tolerance and resilience. 

However I feel obliged to add that this is also something extremely malefic in operation in the area of Dorset, which seems to have a particular focus in the New Forest village of Lymington. My landlady's boyfriend was born there and he told me that the Masons there are involved in paedophile rings. I visited Lymington and there is a very tangible sense of evil which pervades this place. Everyone in the town seems cold and aloof and despite the obvious affluence of the town, the people here all seem to be under some burden which renders them unfriendly and perceptibly weary of strangers.

The Masonic Hall at Lymington.

Below is an anonymous post which was made over on the Atlantean Conspiracy blog giving some insight into the occult-world situation in and around the New Forest, and was a reply made to an article of mine which Eric Dubay hosted on his blog, this was back in 2011 when Eric was still talking sense and before he either lost his mind, or was somehow coerced into promulgating the strange flat-Earth disinformation which he lately regrettably appears to be spear-heading.

Anonymous said...

Wiccans are crazy nutters that believe in the existence of witches and wizzards and pray to the devil. They reject God. But what is less known and kept secret is their inclination to severely abuse children. They are just pedos that use any sick excuse to get their hands on defenseless children. And they torture animals too. The main group is centered in the New Forest, with secret trips to the Masons Hall in Godalming and journeys to the Isle of Wight (spooky, nutty fires in the smugglers cave on that island for example)
Lots of cult members meet there, everybody bringing their children along, to be abused, drugged (some mushroom stuff, some other things) and tortured until the children pass out. They call that "training" and "programming". The children who grow up this way become later messed up sect members themselves.
The great leader is a demented, old dirty guy by the name of N M. He lives in Minstead and seems like the nice old bloke next door. Involved in charitable stuff, incidentally all to do with children. Well, what with age and all, the pervert can't keep his mouth shut! He is apparently a high up Mason and called "Your Highness" in this Wiccan sect. He has access to children all the time, he boasts. He kidnaps children, using treats like sweets to lure them. He abuses children of friends, scaring them to death, so they don’t tell their parents. There were court cases where the parents found out, but he never got a conviction (no proof and because the kids are unknowingly drugged, they don’t talk sense in court). He is the "Highness" in his sick family. The self-proclaimed 33rd degree Mason N M is really called H L N M and lives in Minstead, New Forest, England.
Other cult members:
Angus Mackinnon
Martin Eayrs (Lancaster)
Alistair Banks (Lyndhurst, New Forest)
There might be harmless cult members as well - I don't know. Maybe there are cult members left in the unknown. The guys above are criminals for sure. I imagine there might be some police members protecting them, because otherwise I wouldn't get why they could do this sick stuff for so long.

N M is involved in an orphan home (Sundri Devi School Bataha) for children in India, with frequent trips over there. I cannot possible imagine him to do it for any other reason than getting access to children. The children are drugged, scared to death (they are certainly threatened with death) and deeply ashamed - so they do not talk. I would not be surprised if there is the occasional death (ritual killings, masked as drowning accidents for example).

The above sect has not only men, there are sick females involved as well. So, do not trust your nice looking neighbour, just because you cannot imagine him or her to do such things. Be weary if your child changes in behaviour. If you know friends of above people - warn them.

July 28, 2011 at 2:22 PM

http://www.atlanteanconspiracy.com/2011/07/truth-about-freemasonry.html

As soon as I saw the advert on Easyroommate I immediately felt with a pang that there was some occult or Masonic connection, but at the same time it was possibly the cheapest room in the whole of England, being a tiny box room just slightly bigger than the size of a double bed with space around to just about walk around the edge of the bed to get in or out of it. It cost 50 pounds a week, which in 2007 was at the bottom end of the rental market, in fact it was in the basement or several feet underground of the rental market. The house itself was pretty nice, with a large kitchen with washing machine and a cosy front room, additionally the house's owner and her boyfriend were very interesting and pleasant people, and I became solid friends with my landlady's boyfriend and we spent most of that summer drinking in the local pubs of Bournemouth and talking hard and incessant metaphysics. 

This gentleman was a schizophrenic and so far is the only person apart from my own sister, who can actually accept and understand the theory I had developed about the past and present being connected not just by forward causality but also by backward causality since the engine of reality itself exists outside of time and we cannot perceive backward causality because our perceptions and expectations face always forwards in time.

I believe firmly that not only does acting on the present lead to consequences in the future, was is known as traditional 'cause and effect' but also changes in the future can also be connected to commensurate changes in the past. My particular focus was on the human mind and how things that may have happened in ones past, can be intimately connected to thoughts, ideas, wishes and actions of the will, at a future point. This is because the human mind operates beyond time and anyone who has experienced premonitions of the future in dreams will be able to attest to this and a great many of us can all think of salient examples if we were to put our minds to it.

If you are interested in the topic of backwards causality then read my book Light in the Darkness where I explore these themes and concepts in some depth.

So knowing that somehow, making the phone call and expressing an interest in this room at 10 Capstone Place, might bring me back somehow into the shadowy duat of the Freemasons, I went ahead because to be frank, 50 quid was ruddy cheap and I always loved a bargain.

As it turns out the landlady and her boyfriend were both connected to the Illuminati. but I only discovered this some time afterwards, in fact only once I'd left Bournemouth and returned to London. I got to know my landlady quite well and there were one or two interesting things about her. She was from Botswana and was part of a successful San family, the San people are the longest indigenous residents of Botswana and are recognisible by their oriental eyes. 

She told me she had become involved with a south coast charity for African migrants called Mosaic which she told me, have a way of initiating new arrivals and connecting them up with local Freemasons in order to find them work, and I suspect she was different person now in England as result of being involved in this spooky 'charity' to who she was back home.

She told me that she was a shaman of her family tribe and she seemed to have the same ability as the Filipino witches I had known in Tokyo. Something else quite odd about her is that I would often find her having conversations with people in the street, with people she had never met before, and when I asked her about she would deny she had said anything. I started to suspect she too was part of something she couldn't tell me about. I don't quite know I keep running into people like this but I suppose there must be some kind of law of attraction in operation. I am interested in metaphysics and experience reality in a way quite different to most people in that I am always trying to see beyond the 'local view' of reality. 

For instance I long ago learned to go beyond a human perspective of reality and sought something like a universal view. I realised that I would be stuck on this planet for a few more decades to come, but by no means should I consider this any more than a temporary stopping point on my journey through the cosmos. Even the plays of Shakespeare and the apparent geniuses of human history are merely 'local phenomena' and have limited value in the great scheme of things. All art science and literature is product of being lost in a material existence and mostly great art, literature and science are just an investigation into the 'mystery' of life. 

So as long as the condition of mystery and uncertainty exists then science, art and literature have some value, but what if one becomes enlightened and aware of some basic fundamental spiritual realities? Science no longer has any purpose, and is wholly antagonistic to ones personal discoveries. Art and literature too, often focus on pain and emotional turmoil in pursuit of ideals in the physical world but once one has transcended pain and uncertainty and realises that the material world by definition can never be ideal, then art and literature no longer have anything to tell you because they seem hopelessly naive and fall always short of grasping any ultimate truths.

So basically there is, or perhaps, was something in me that was 'seeking' transcendent people and experiences. I say 'was' because I seem to have rather completed my journey and come to the end of the line in terms of what I can learn here. Basically I'm just getting through life at this point, writing a bit, working a bit, just to buy myself some little retirement home somewhere in the deep French countryside, while I await the completion of my life on Earth and the blessed escape from matter, which comes with death.

Now of course I realise I will never meet anyone who is in the same frame of perspective as myself who is not a member of some occult Aleister Crowley group or the Freemasons. The problem is that Freemasons and Crowley people have a similar perspective to mine, except they are not free and are also caught in an entourage which continually tempts them with sex, drugs or financial corruption. I seem to have used the Masons as a stepping stone into a new awareness, but managed to avoid the cage of joining them. Some people may find it reassuring to have a group surrounding them, helping them, directing and controlling them. But by definition such a thing can only appeal to weak people who never had the strength of personal spiritual identity to stand for anything, or achieve anything on their own. So by choosing to lose themselves within a group they are cursed to become something less than a human and something more like an ant or a bee or something.

Joining the Masons or any such occult group is like taking a conscious step down the spiritual and human evolutionary ladder.

But in the case of my former landlady she had become involved as a result of being a new arrival from Africa in a new and unfamiliar country, and I wonder how many other migrants might receive a special sort of 'welcome reception' from these strange Masonic charities with the aim of swelling their own agents and influence in society to within the heart of the minority communities, something the Masons are very keen to achieve, particularly within the Muslim community, they are having less success with this but I believe MI5 takes up a lot of the slack.

In fact the Masons and the security services are eternally joined at the hip, and again, within the context of my friends at Bournemouth I found an overture to join the Masons and MI5 being rolled out to me again. I remember it well. I got a phone-call from my former landlady, while I was talking to her she said, 'Hang on a second,' and then her boyfriend spoke from somewhere in the room, he said: "Do you want to join MI5?' It was the plausible deniability technique again, speaking to someone on the phone while someone else in an offhand manner makes the request.

For me it seemed like a serious proposal, I'm not quite sure who he knew in MI5 and why he was in a particular position to offer me a job, except that he had told me his father was a Freemason, but I have few doubts his girlfriend was part of something. I replied 'No.' That was my gut response, I didn't even have to think about it in fact it was probably best I didn't think about it too much as I might have started to create James Bond fantasies for myself, which I knew from my experiences in Tokyo seeing British and American 'agent' types, was totally removed from reality.  

She said, :"Are you sure?" I said yes. The tenor of the conversation was very similar to the one I had with my former German/Russian girlfriend, except the outcome was significantly different and rather more surprising. My former girlfriend had said she was glad and put the phone down. When I put the phone down on these two in Bournemouth something very peculiar and paranormal took place which I have never since encountered.

What happened next after refusing a request to join MI5 and putting the phone down was an immediate occult psychic attack. What happened was this: I heard a voice in my head, like a voice in a dream, chanting a spell. I do not remember the precise gist of the chant which I heard except it rhymed and followed a kind of staccato pattern and seemed to be counting down, or building up, to some kind of final curse. It was a cross between the old folk song The Man of Double Deed and The Tyger by William Blake. 

I realised that this chant was a curse on me and it was in danger of dominating me, and I had the feeling that if the curse succeeded I would possibly die. The chant seemed to be voiced by several people all in unison and just before it reached its peak I sent my will forth and sent a psychic bomb on the people who were attacking me. The chanting stopped and after a moment I heard applause. I realised that this was the Masons, either dead or living ones, there's not much difference really, a living Mason is half in the land of the dead and a dead Mason is half in the land of the living, which amounts to the same thing.

They, in some weird disembodied lodge of the dead or ghostly living, where applauding my strength. I told them all to get fucked. And they did, they left me alone. There's not a lot Masons or the Illuminati can do against someone who is strong in will and powerful in their resolve.

 

Weaponised Popstars file 1999: Prince reportedly dies of sex overdose.

Prince onstage performing a concert with the Three Degrees of the Masonic Jehovah''s witnesseseses.

 Prince Dies of Suspected Sex Overdose: Police Frantically Performed CPR Before Death 

— Prince's eyes flickered and he had one last erection, dedicated to his fans.

Prince was known for his uncompromising avant guard personal styling and ill advised forays into politics.

HRH the small thin prince of Sex and maybe drugs, was found dead in his own home in a highly sexually  distressed condition. Despite attempts by the police to resuscitate the Prince by playing his own music to his dead body and telling him how sexy he was, and giving him CPR, Prince's cream was too badly depleted to allow the former singer's sexy ghost to repossess his body, though reportedly Prince's eyes flickered briefly and it was thought that he could be successfully resuscitated, however Prince's last gesture was a sudden and surprising goodbye erection to his fans worldwide and Prince's soul left his genitals and was pronounced brain-dead.

Brain Dead: Fans react to Prince's death.

Many of his fans who wept futile tears of loss and sadnesss, over a man they never even knew and who probably wouldn't be tolerated in his royal Princiness' sexy presence for more than 39 seconds.

Despite Prince's conversion to the unaccountably popular Masonic doomsday cult he still maintained a strong interest in depressed rock-star drugs and depressed rock-star orgies. He was also fond of camels but little more can be said on this subject for want of details.

Prince's poor sexed out body was discovered crumpled and spent in the south elevator of his home, it appears that he had spent all night in his own specially constructed nuclear powered virtual sex-orgasmatron which Prince himself apparently designed to his own exacting sexual needs.

Nuclear engineers who were rushed to the scene to discover the cause of death reported that the machine appeared to be in order, except that they noted that the protective security seal had been removed and the device had been turned up to 11. 

Early rumours from within Nasa that they had interecepted signals from the machine on their orbital satellite seismographic station and had picked up signals indicating that the orgasmatron was set to 'male-hard' have been thoroughly discredited and denied by Prince's publicist and his army of live-in lawyers, especially employed by Prince to secure the aura of Prince's thin, tight and camply dancing obvious heterosexuality.

Prince's lawyers confirm that this most assuredly is NOT the picture of a gay icon, despite what Boy George says, who has reportedly gone into hiding after a fatwah was posted by Prince's legal team.

More cannot be said with certainty at this stage because I hear the lawyers have woken up again and are scouring social media

LATEST UPDATE: Freaky swinger, Pope Francis has just announced that Prince is to be made an honorary Prince of the Holy Roman Empire for his services to weird religion and hypocrisy, he will be known in death and for all eternity, or at least as soon as people lose interest in an obviously temporal and vacuuous cultural icon, as Prince Prince of Sexburg Gotha. 

Pope Francis reportedly stated :"It's very funny you know, everyone thinks he was some kind of important cultural voice bringing transcendent wisdom, peace and quintessential funk based enlightenment, but he was just like us, a guy who couldn't control his dick and invented a whole dogma and mythology dedicated to satiating his own needs..... our father down below has such a keen sense of irony. This is off the record of course."

Pope Francis naturally denies such a conversation ever took place.

It is reported that Prince was one of the few men who knew the sound that is made when Doves cry because he used to tease them in a specially constructed Dove-teasing apparatus built into his music studio. After teasing them for hours he would drink their tears and it is said that his apparent youthful good looks were attributed to the daily ingestion of Doves' sadness.

Prince's death at the age of 57 leads this blogger to suspect a sinister trend and that a sex-overdose may well be a media cover-story to obfuscate the fact that Prince was ritually murdered while the funk was yet strong in him in order to harvest the untapped fresh funk for the pop demons served by the Illuminati agents.

More than several famous musicians have died in mysterious or thoroughly explainable circumstances in their 57th year and there may well be a '57' club in existence where rock stars sign their souls away in exchange for a life of sex drugs and rock'n'roll, followed by a period of Ovaltine, early nights and carpet slippers, before going out in a subdued blaze of comfortable glory.  Prince joins such illustrious stars of of the stage and screen  such as Ian Dury, Harry H Corbett and Wally Brown who also became members of the sinister and little talked about: '57 club'.

Prince's former mate Vanity Vanity all is Vanity, was also inducted into the 57 club earlier this year and like Prince also hoped to find an escape from her sins in weird religion. It seems that in this case, weird religions were not strong enough to protect Prince and Vanity from their contractual obligations and Prince's last Instragram message seemed to indicate that the Illuminati soul and funk bailiffs had arrived to collect.

Prince is rumoured to be a surprise guest at the 2016 Glastonbury festival. 

The Cain Transformation. Part 4.

I returned to England a bit spooked,  but having acquired a new set of skills which included Zen meditation, which I had perfected while living in Hiro and resisting the psychic attacks of the witches. I had been trying to learn to still my mind for several years and for some reason it all seemed to finally click in Tokyo. Here there was spirituality on every corner,  peaceful shrines and gardens everywhere in the midst of an urban sprawl on an epic scale. I had also cut alcohol and meat out of my daily diet and drank copious amounts of delicious cold green tea which in Japan has the same popularity as coke has in the West. It was here in the house in Hiro which I finally found an answer to the question which has been plaguing me for so long. Do I, or indeed does anyone, actually have a soul?

I had started meditating with strengthened concentration and focus since I realised it was better to defeat the witches, not with an endless series of tiring psychic battles but by transcending them by simply removing them and everything from my mind since constantly exercising my anger and hatred would have a karmic effect on my general spiritual well-being, since anyone who is repeatedly expressing anger rage and destruction will likely nurture and feed that kind of mindset inside themselves.

In fact it is generally wise to be very careful what one gives attention and focus to. I once acquired a Shinto fire demon after attending a New-Year’s Eve temple ritual outside Tokyo where the priests ritually blessed people’s possessions after about an hour of ethereal and disorientating chanting, by waving them in the living fire of the fire demon which the priests had summoned.  We filed out of the temple afterwards and people bowed and prayed to the many headed blackened demon whose statue was tall and frightening. Such a ritual must have something in common with the ancient embodiment and supplication to forces in the ancient world, where time would be spent in prayer and meditation, then some priest magic such as ‘summoning’ the power of the force, in this case, large barrels filled with ritual fire, before a final meeting and supplication to an effigy of the God itself.

I found after this encounter and somewhat mystical experience, that I felt that somehow I had a spiritual defender and protector, which I sorely needed what with the recent psyche games with the Demon King Mr B himself, and now the houseful of witches who can creep into your head in the middle of the night. I felt powerfully protected by an invisible protecting demon, it may just have been a mental creation of my own, a sort of ritualised personal empowerment, or it may have been a real demon. I felt that whenever I felt threatened I could call on this slightly malign spiritual power to defend me. This was fine as an empowering fantasy until the day it actually proved itself to be real and dangerous. I had acquired a half Russian half German girlfriend who herself was in the Illuminati, she had once gone to France while we were dating to see an old male friend and former boyfriend of hers. I had made a rather spiteful prayer that should she try to get up to anything with him behind my back then I would wreak my fire demon on them.

When she returned she told me of how they had gone out to a restaurant and when they returned the flat was on fire because she had left a candle which had set fire to the curtains and badly burnt one the rooms. I admitted that it may have been my fault since I had set my fire demon over them and she admitted she probably would have slept with him has she not accidentally burned his flat which apparently cooled their ardor somewhat.

She also had a Portuguese friend come over to specifically try to recruit me. They always do this, just like in Japan. If any of these people become close to you as friends, girlfriends or even bosses, and they want to recruit you, then they will not ask you themselves, possibly because they like to have plausible deniability and also possible because they don’t want to too radically redefine the relationship, or possibly both.

Her Portuguese friend’s opening gambit was to ask me what made the world go around. After a moment’s actual thought I gave an answer: ‘Love.’ I said. It was obvious, without love nothing would get done because there would be no reason to do it, if it were all done without love it would be doomed to fail, which perhaps explains why the Illuminati are slowly taking this world into complete destruction. He shook his head and smiled a wolfish smile. “Money.” He said, “Money makes the world go around.” “That’s just a stupid song, I thought you were asking me seriously.” It turns out he was asking me seriously and this was his attempt to recruit me with the lure of promises of money, I defended my position saying that the present money driven world economy isn’t sustainable as there has to be a limit to economic growth and profit on a finite planet. He didn’t seem  able to grasp this however, and one finds that this is a theme amongst the Illuminati, they are not allowed to think for themselves and must follow whatever flawed thesis is popular amongst them at that time.

Now of course the Illuminati thesis has changed from what it was in 2005, endless growth and profit, now it’s about mulling over some kind of mass extinction event and if one doesn’t arrive then it might be necessary to make one happen. However this aim may well have already been achieved through the Fukushima disaster which is presently wiping out most of the Pacific marine life. The choice euphemism the media are presently using is ‘el nino’ a mysterious ‘warm patch’ in the Pacific which has the power to make thousands of Humpback whales completely disappear and fail to make their annual journey to Hawaii where whale watchers have been left watching little but the rolling waves of an increasingly irradiated Pacific ocean.

I received a phone call from my girlfriend at that time asking me if I wanted to join or not. I said I didn’t. She told me she was glad. Was she told to say that or did she really believe it? It’s all very strange. This was a very similar situation to that which I found myself in after returning from Egypt in the summer of 2007. I arrived from the dry fossilised heat of Cairo International Airport in the City of the Sun to make my way down to Brighton in an absolute endless deluge. I moved on to Bournemouth and seemed to have arrived in the midst of a Biblical event, the attempted drowning of the UK. I realised that some force was at work here, whether occult, Haarp or chemtrails or all three. It was clear England was in the midst of a weather war and since I had seemed to have become tuned to the spirits of the atmosphere and the invisible energies which direct the weather I realised I was the only one in a position to change anything. Each day was an endless battle against the damp earth and the chem-trails pouring out from  behind the unmarked military aircraft hiding high above the clouds.

It was slow work and because it had been raining all month it seemed almost that the weather had fallen into a rut. I finally broke the back of the rain on the 7^th July 2007 when I went to London to watch the tour de France in both Greenwich then later in the day, to the royal Mall and it was here that the threat of weather war and a drowned Britain was finally averted. Of course if you do not believe that the human mind is capable to some extent of influencing its environment and controlling the elements then none of this will mean an awful lot to you.

If however you realise that there might just be something that exists which contemporary science doesn't want to talk about and what the secret societies don't want you to know about, which has been recorded in religious texts, magical treatises and the traditions of indigenous people the world over, the you might be able to discover these possibilities in your own life. If you don't believe in any possibilities beyond what science tells us is real then this will be your reality. Closing your mind to possibilities means those possibilities also close themselves to you.

I found a place on Easy Room Mate in a house down Capstone Place in Bournemouth, and again I seemed to find myself in a living ritual unfolding in the social interactions and apparently chance circumstances. I had just come from Egypt and had become aware of the symbolic ritual of the capstone while in Cairo and had visited the Cairo museum and looked at the highly important Benben stones, or Pyramidion which capped the very top of the pyramid and it represents the Benben mound which was the first ground to rise above the waters and meet the rays of the sun. So this represents the interaction between matter and light and hence life itself.

The Phoenix, notice the solar crown which was also associated with Egyptian deities and later, Christian saints.

The Phoenix of Greek myth actually goes back to Egypt where it was known as the Benu bird, in fact it was Herodotus who relates to us the strange, unlikely and wholly symbolic story of the Phoenix:

There is also another sacred bird called the phoenix which I did not myself see except in painting, for in truth he comes to them very rarely, at intervals, as the people of Heliopolis say, of five hundred years; and these say that he comes regularly when his father dies; and if he be like the painting, he is of this size and nature, that is to say, some of his feathers are of gold colour and others red, and in outline and size he is as nearly as possible like an eagle. This bird they say (but I cannot believe the story) contrives as follows:setting forth from Arabia he conveys his father, they say, to the temple of the Sun (Helios) plastered up in myrrh, and buries him in the temple of the Sun; and he conveys him thus:he forms first an egg of myrrh as large as he is able to carry, and then he makes trial of carrying it, and when he has made trial sufficiently, then he hollows out the egg and places his father within it and plasters over with other myrrh that part of the egg where he hollowed it out to put his father in, and when his father is laid in it, it proves (they say) to be of the same weight as it was; and after he has plastered it up, he conveys the whole to Egypt to the temple of the Sun. Thus they say that this bird does.

The Benben stone, representative of the first interactions between light and matter and the creation of life. 

Horus with the initiates on the barque of Ra with the Bennu bird or phoenix leading the way.

 

Herodotus was told a symbolic story to represent and possible obfuscate the mysteries of the Phoenix which in reality is an embodiment of the solar logos. It is likely that the details furnished to Herodotus were poor translations, or Chinese whispers of the actual reality of solar-initiation. Being 'buried in myrrh' possibly refers to the sealing of the Pharaoh of King, not in an egg of myrrh but in a granite sarcophagus, where one might presume, he meditates and confronts his absolute self, within what Herodotus calls The Temple of the Sun or The Great Pyramid. He likely crosses the void and finds within himself the true reality and the light within, which is connected to the external sun. Every living thing on Earth is connected to the electrical and magnetic vortices of the sun.

The word Pyramid itself and its connection to 'fire' as in the word pyro- as in pyromaniac or pyrotechnic, in addition to the phoenix's traditional connection to fire; we are dealing with fire but it is the spiritual fire of the sun. This energy matrix is integral to our soul energy and higher self. The holographic nature of the material world will continue to be revealed, at least to those who take an interest in the ongoing researches and developments in quantum physics.

To be continued....

Popstars of the Apocalypse 2 Act 3 Scene 4

Hype Aid secret children's warm-up gig for children held at a de-sanctified church in Hackney. Only young people under the age of 16 who had family members in the OTO or the Freemasons were able to obtain tickets which were distributed by the grand Master at the local lodge.

The bill has three of the acts due to appear at the Hype Aid concert in two week's time.

Demon Chile, Smiley Mindless, and the special X-Factor competition winners, the boy band Underage.

Demon Chile is performing her final song and most famous song, I wanna be naughty.

Demon Chile:

Y'all see me strutting up at tha super bowl with my crazy burnin' eyes 
Pumped up muscles cos I eat too many spinach pies
My dirty ol' minge is peeking out of my Deckers
And for shits and giggles I'm gonna do myself with a Snickers
But what can I say?
Cos when I'm hitting forty,
And I wanna be naughty...
Ooooh Yeaaah I wanna be naughty.
I'm gonna be naughty.

The audience of little girls sing frantically along, who despite their tender years, show an ardent desire to be naughty too, and a few of them will no doubt find themselves going backstage later to spend some quality time with the latest boy band Underage who have a predilection for this kind of thing since they were all sexually abused by their Freemason uncles before they turned teenagers who also encouraged them to join the local Naturist camp where they made special kinds of videos with other young naturists

After Demon Chile's Smiley Mindless comes on stage accompanied by Joey Fringe from the group Underage.

Smiley Mindless: Hello special children of London. My little English friend here Joey Fringe has something important to say.

There are screams and some girls promptly faint, but they are secretly pretending, for some reason the more zeal they exhibit in support of these gormless tassel haired paedophiles the higher their social currency rises, and this is the only thing of interest to most young girls, being part of the herd, no matter how harmful, stupid and sexually immoral, the content they are blindly cheering in their pursuit for peer acceptance. It's on TV and in the papers so it must be the correct herd to be in. Such is the ease with which it is possible to emotionally and mentally subvert and entire generation. Human psychology is just far too easily hacked.

Joey Fringe: He waves Hello children. This is a very special concert for the most special children in the whole of England he hears something in his ear-piece, he coughs, and Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland. All you little girls and a few of you little boys are all here today because we're all part of one big special family. Our special family rules this world and this world is our stage and we have a lot of fun singing and dancing and having a good time with our special friends and meeting lovely young people like you. There are wild delirious cheers and screams.

Smiley Mindless then momentarily leaves the stage and returns carrying a giant Paedobear which she gyrates and grinds her stupid pale body against in a simulated sex act.

Smiley Mindless: I love you baby paedo bear. Take me to Bohemian Grove and rape me daddy.

Joey Fringe: Everybody get you hands in the air. Starts clapping Me and Smiley gonna lay it down the way we like it. Repeat after me. One, two, three.

Smiley Mindless: Ooooh Daddy.

The audience of mostly young girls repeat the refrain of 'Ooooh Daddy'.

Smiley Mindless: Oooh naughty Daddy.

The audience repeat and the phrase 'Oooh naughty Daddy' echoes around the old church.

Joey Fringe: starts lowering his trousers and strutting around the stage with his trousers just above his knees Turn up the heat.

Smiley Mindless: Daddy gonna rape me.

The simple minded silly audience repeat the refrain 'Daddy gonna rape me'. Smiley Mindless repeats the refrain and so do the audience.

Joey Fringe: cutting in Oooooh feels so good.

Smiley Mindless: Bad daddy did me
                          Three mid nights at the grove
                          With the trees and the Bushes
                          And all the big swingers
                          All lined up to rape me.

A strobe light is activated and everything in the church suddenly starts to become a little more unreal and dislocated from reality.

Smiley Mindless: I'm a slut with a broken soul,
                         Always empowered 
                         A woman in control, 
                         I wear big boots to kick you in the balls 
                         Because I'm Lilith before the fall.
                         No man can break a woman, 
                         Who breaks herself,
                         There's nothing to take, 
                         If I give it all away for the Goddess' sake.
                         I swing with all the bosses, 
                         Rothschild on my all-seeing I-phone, 
                         I've been to their parties, 
                         I've slept with all the Skull n'Bones. 

As soon as Smiley says 'Skulls n' Bones' a pink lazer light appears which projects a skull and crossbones onto the back wall of the stage. Dry ice is then pumped into the church and the skull and bones pink lazer light then moves across the floor of the church and superimposes itself over the whole audience.

Joey Fringe: The pink lazer light strikes Joey and he enters a channeling trance My children, we have travelled so far to see you. Across the vast emptiness of space for so many million miles we travelled in frozen starvation, the living dead moving through deep space hungering for the taste of a living soul. And now we are here at last. To taste humanity.

Smiley Mindless: Now we will come into you. She raises her arms suddenly and there is a sudden change in the audience, they quickly fall into total silence as they are hypnotised by the pink lazer light which falls over them.

Joey Fringe: Yes. Here we come.... out from the eternal frozen night and into the flesh!

At that, all of the people in the audience react as one body. 

The Audience: Now, we are here, in the flesh.

Joey Fringe: We have arrived at last, father of the night, we are here at last, fully embodied. 

The Audience: We have arrived. This is our world now.

The audience of now possessed children leave the church and go out into the world.