There is an elite group of controllers known only as or denoted as the small i. This icon appears on federal paperwork as a precursor to planned events like the recent internet black out. It is an ongoing NSA study monitoring the psycho-social responses of the general population. It is a smaller part of the war games used to evaluate the homeland’s readiness should we be attacked. The attacks are not of course from nuclear missiles, but from cyber terrorists residing within our borders. They are here now living among us, going to our colleges, many are exchange students from other countries. They represent the greatest threat to Western Culture than any other threat in modern history. Why? Because a small group of highly skilled clandestine infiltrators could shut down the entire electrical and electronic grid for months. America could be literally blacked out from all sources of light, communication, police dispatch, water pumps, fueling stations, food, everything. And then the social chaos, the living hell would begin. Just remember the aftermath of Katrina and the murders and looting that took place. Imagine this scenario a thousand fold in cities all across America. And the electricity doesn’t come back on for months. Gangs of self appointed militias roam the streets implementing street justice like civil wars in Africa and South America. The local police impotent to help in any meaningful way. When the night arrives, screams of suffering from all directions fill the air. People cry out by the hundreds of thousands without mercy. Time marches on as society implodes into an urban jungle. The question arises; will you be prepared?
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Nobody believes in the government anymore, nobody. It is a corrupt cesspool of liars. One has to wonder what event will be the final tipping point that turns voters into mobs. I am certain the NSA has done studies on this issue; because the rats always protect their nest. Most Americans are just plain stupid. Politicians won’t say it, but we the people are well aware of it. My father fought at Normandy and earned a silver star. He’s long gone now. But he believed in his country unlike most Americans today. Something is wrong. There are far too many educated people who for whatever reason don’t speak up, or don’t participate in the election process. We have two clowns running for the highest office in the land. The world looks at them both as liars and cartoons. Ask anyone, nobody believes that any jobs are coming back from overseas. Not one. Also, nobody believes the filthy rich companies who have trillions of dollars in off shore accounts will bring back the cash and invest in America. Why would they? They certainly are not patriotic. Never in the history of the world has a country remained a super power based on a service oriented economic model. If you take away war products, we actually manufacture little in terms of consumer goods. Forty percent of our GNP is in the financial products market which is funded by the Federal Reserve Banking System. The debt is now over 17 trillion dollars. You just can’t continue to print counterfeit money and expect nothing to happen.
Monday, October 24, 2016
Here at the CDC we sub-contract out specific disease testing to a small group of laboratories with close military ties. For all intents and purposes these labs don’t really exist. They do not have names and are assigned only numbers. We use a special carrier service for delivery and pick up, for obvious reasons. When we get material back it is wrapped in brown shipping paper and inside is a titanium case. Inside the case is Styrofoam coated with lead paint. Many of our samples have been eradicated before and after shipping; again, an extra precaution to protect the public. Several weeks ago and I can’t say which day of the week; we received an email regarding a possible breach of our intranet service. One of our packages had been rerouted and subsequently never arrived at one of three disposal sites the CDC uses. It was a high priority item coded for maximum annihilation AKA: MA. Since then a small number of our data sites have reported spikes of suspected cases of exposure mostly in the District of Columbia area. A significant grouping associated with a large urban church has been minimized in the press, but more hospitalizations could mean more public scrutiny. This specific biohazard did not originate from the usual pipeline. It is one of the new anti-antiviral creations born into the world by the DOD under the guise of national security. These guys are in fact the mad scientists right out of those 1950 B rated sci-fi movies. They answer to no one, because they don’t exist; just ask Uncle Sam. I’ve called my Aunt who lives in Virginia and told her to take a vacation out West to see her son for a month or so. She knows what I mean when I say extended vacation. This is the third time in two years she suddenly went on an unscheduled trip. It makes me wonder if this could be the bad one; the one they all have feared would escape the box. We have a nickname for it, we call it the Omega Bug.
Sunday, October 23, 2016
I’ve never been good at it so I’m practicing. I’m going to tell a great lie. Everything that follows is completely untrue in its entirety. I was there when Jesus the man died. I watched him take his last breath. I watched as he was pierced by the spear. I watched as they took him down and wrapped his body in linen. I heard people whisper that he was taken away and then the talk stopped. Saturday came and the sun rose like it always had. It was a beautiful sunny day with blue sky and even a white cloud. Children could be heard playing games and laughter filled the cobblestone streets. Vendors sold their wares and life in the city of Rome continued as it always had done. It was just another day. And then one century went by, then another, then ten, then finally twenty centuries came and went. Two thousand years of history across the earth had come and gone. And the sun comes up like it’s always done. And the sky is blue, and white clouds appear, and the laughter of children still fills the streets and parks. And dogs still bark and people talk and talk. I am watching and waiting for his return. I know what he looks like. I want to hear him explain the last two thousand years. I want to ask him if Mary Magdalene was beautiful. I want to ask him what food he enjoys most. I want to ask him about his choice of wine and what he likes to talk about while at the dinner table. I want to ask him if I could join him at his table
I was pushing a cart in a Wal-Mart store on a crowded Saturday morning. I beheld a wheelchair bound twisted lump of humanity jerking its head about like a crack head driving down Broadway. At least I wasn’t exposed to that urban rap shit they call music. The fat momma pushing the cart exhibited gold loop earrings and a black spandex body suit from head to toe. She was the black Michelin man in drag. Her tiny head was virtually hairless as if by style. She pushed that imploded little teenager down the middle of the aisle as if to say; I own this stretch of highway, move out of the way. And everyone did. I kept eyeballing the young man in the wheelchair with the interest of a gawker. He caught me looking and smiled a big hello and kind of hurled an elongated grunt in my direction. He liked me. I could feel it. Back in the early seventies I used to be a part time mystic of sorts when I got bored. I could use my inherent skills as a temple of the living spirit to transcend my consciousness into higher levels. As I looked deep into this fellows’ eyes I opened my porthole and connected to him if but for a nanosecond. In that very short period of time I saw an entire universe. He was whole and sitting in the lotus position wearing a royal garb of white cloth with a multitude of hand sewn designs of flowers and leaves and blue elephants. He sat in front of a castle on white stone steps and people went about their business as if he was a concrete part of the temple, but he was alive. And he was full of energy that you could not see but enveloped you like a warm breeze. He smiled and his prana came forth like a golden wind flowing like water washing away all your pain and sufferings. The window within his eyes passed me by as he was pushed down the aisle by his caretaker. I stood motionless staring at him at a loss for words when suddenly a mountain of a black man raised his voice to me and said; “What you looking at?”, and brushed me aside and backwards with his huge shoulder as he moved like the goliath he was; making his way behind the woman and the wheelchair. He wore sandals the size of snow shoes and his feet stretched the leather. His tree limb arms held outwards like border gates ensuring no passage. Then I saw the head of the boy in the wheelchair turn and twist to see me. He kept staring and seeking and looking until he was gone. I think long ago we had known each other, and I was certain someday somewhere we would meet again.