Year Zero: Restate my assumptions. Several weeks ago I found myself on Ken Adachi's website,
Educate Yourself, while following a link from an article on another site. I'd been to Adachi's website once or twice in the past, but it wasn't a place that I had frequented. There's quite a bit of material there, and I suppose if I were to categorize it as conspiracy site, I would say that it is one of the lighter, more reasonable sites of that kind. That said, there is quite a bit of information there in terms of non-mainstream or offbeat stories, ranging from Project Bluebeam to Tavistock to Vaccines. As with any of the aforementioned subjects, I take it all with a grain of salt, and keep only considerations that I may be able to use to contribute to my mosaic of reality after further multiple cross-checks. The link I had followed led me to a submission from ZS Livingstone that had been written back in 2002, entitled, "
Ode To Wingmaker." Curious to see if it had anything to do with James and the WingMakers that I had discovered last autumn, I decided to see what the piece was about, as I hadn't seen much web content outside of the WingMakers site going that far back, although I knew that their own website had already been live online by then.
Livingstone has written a fair amount about Sylphs, also known as the serpentine "spirits of the air" who are represented as the spirits of the Four Winds. He seems to know a lot about Sylphs and communicates with them. I read several of his stories, many of which are about Sylphs, which is what the "Ode" piece was about. I had learned about such spirits in my younger years, though never addressed by a name of any kind. I then returned to the main page on the Educate Yourself site. On the main page was an article about an author named Susan Reed, aka Jennie Gosbell, who had written a book called "
The Body Snatchers" back in 2006. The book is available in its entirety on Adachi's website and you can view it from the previous link. Should you choose to read it, please be aware that the grammar, syntax and spelling leaves much to be desired. "How does one find a publisher without the means of a copy editor?" I wondered as I struggled hard at first to engage myself.
That said, the nature of the story that Susan Reed tells is rather intense, bizarre and not all that optimistic. Depending on where you are at in your own journey and what has been revealed to you from the universe, you might have heard the story before, that this planet is essentially a penal colony of sorts, and beings outside of this dimension have broken into the
Askashic Records and distorted the normal evolutionary process of humans through repeated erasing of our memories of past lives, thereby causing a repeat or karmic loop for many souls, stunting their growth and development because the ability to learn from mistakes is greatly reduced if one's long term memory has been vanquished. The Akashic Records are stored in one of the astral planes, holding the information about every soul and every action that has ever taken place within the cosmos. Many adept astral travelers have seen them, some of whom have reported the same thing in terms of earth currently being a prison planet. Susan Reed finds out about a similar concept in her book, only it's a net of sorts. If you stop and think about that for a moment, it might explain some things in terms of the way individuals and nations as a whole appear to repeat the same cycles over and over again, making the same mistakes.
Consider for a moment the long-running, manufactured Catholic concept of "Limbo," which had always bothered me in my younger years. There is no Limbo in the scriptures. Limbo was a place that the Vatican created to describe souls that passed on from this physical plane into a state of suspended animation. It wasn't heaven, nor was it hell, but like most teachings, it was introduced into that belief system with a heavy dose of fear. Talk about fabrication. Limbo... really? Stand outside some night when you can see the stars clearly and look up into the heavens. Focus on your breath, your connection to the Creator, who has given you a miraculous life in which you are free to create from your very essence, and you are free to make your own choices within your own life circumstances. We can't even comprehend how large the expanding universe / multiverse is, yet it doesn't take very long to get a sense of how vast and magnificent the universe is, and how wonderful it is that we can perceive its glory and attempt to try and contemplate it.
How great the Creator must be, how wise, how powerful, infinite... All That Is. We can't even begin to approach giving Source any parameters. Our earthly minds don't have that kind of capacity. And yet we get fed concepts like "Limbo" from our self-appointed spiritual gatekeepers. It's sad. As you contemplate such things, try and wrap your head around something as stupid as Limbo, an 800 year-old contrived place, supposedly for those who haven't quite cut the mustard and/or the Creator is too busy to deal with. Unbaptized babies, non-Catholics, etc. Many people, including some of my older relatives, lived their lives in fear of such a place, just like hell. Limbo. Even the name itself is completely redonkulous.
However, from Susan Reed's perspective in "Body Snatchers," although it's not called Limbo, she finds out about a dreadful secret through disclosures from an other-dimensional entity: a net to catch souls departing from the earth in order to hold them in place so that other-dimensional beings can feed off of their life force. Granted, that one's just as "out there" as the Limbo concept, but to me, it certainly makes a bit more sense because it's not the Creator, but others in between the individual souls and Source that have selfishly created an apparatus to serve their own needs. Robert Monroe and others have written about this to varying degrees, and during my initiation period, I did get a distinct sense that the Creator doesn't micro-manage in the ways we've been taught, so maybe there's something else there. I don't know. In light of Susan's story, one has to wonder why the Limbo concept was created by the Vatican and force-fed to the public in the first place? Might they know many things about the universe that we don't? Count on it. I recently read that the Pope decided to
drop the Limbo concept as recommended by a council of Catholic theologians, admitting that it was only a hypothesis to begin with. Such a "drop" makes me even more suspicious about some kind of soul net as discussed in "Body Snatchers."
The readability of Susan's book is another matter entirely. Having worked as a journalist for a time in my younger years and more recently as a copy editor for several years, grammar and syntax issues bug me to the point where it often immediately diminishes the value of the author in my eyes and I can find writing of that caliber tortuous to read. I say that having found a few hastily posted items on this blog about which I felt the same way, although not nearly that bad in terms of pure sloppiness. Suffice it to say, Susan's story is one tall tale. It was one of the reasons that I ended up reading it in its entirety. What's even more interesting is that she was found dead while vacationing in the Bahamas in late 2009. The circumstances around her death, drowning, have been the subject of some controversy, at least from her parent's point of view, who had demanded
further inquiry from their home in the UK. Some of Susan's readers in web forums also felt the same way, as Susan warns of her own potential death within the book as a potential penalty for revealing the book's subject matter to the public. Her death was ruled accidental in April of last year. From what I read from various sources about the details surrounding Susan's death, it definitely seems as though she could have died under suspicious circumstances, but nobody will ever really know what exactly happened.
As stated previously on this blog, I have wanted to keep conspiracy subjects out of this venue as I believe that job is already being done elsewhere to a great degree at this time. The throngs that typically surround the popular conspiracy websites are usually a turn-off for me, often exemplifying the herd or mob mentality, at least from my point of view, and that's something that I try to avoid. "Beware the
Meme," is my constant caution. Memes are contagious and can affect thought patterns. There is a great book on the subject that I read a last year called "
Virus of the Mind
," by Richard Brodie when it was in hardcover. Thought forms are miniature energy systems. They have life and can grow just like anything else. We can also serve as hosts or incubators for thought forms while they grow, feeding off of our life force. Memes, also the foundation components of belief systems, are mind viruses. If one spends too much time in conspiracy circles getting caught up in memes, it can lower one's vibration. Careful consideration and moderation are key.
After reading Susan's story, I thought briefly about focusing a post on it, and then quickly discarded the notion. What she outlined in the story were many things that I was familiar with and had read about in various places well before the arrival of the internet. In fact, in my earlier years, especially throughout the 80s, my two favorite subjects in terms of reading where NDEs (near death experiences) and biblical prophecy. Susan had been in touch with
David Icke with some frequency prior to her death, and there was a
short article regarding her death on David's website several months after it had occurred. I first discovered David's work in the 80s and have loosely kept tabs on him ever since. He is a strong soul, valiant one might say, and certainly a man of his convictions. In recent years I have followed his work a bit more closely than I did from the mid 90s to mid 00s. In the mid 90s as I pursued meditation and learning about Buddhism, I put aside many of the subjects I had been pursuing in my reading during previous years. There was a distinct reason I chose to do so.
When I was around twelve or thirteen years old, I read a book by evangelist
David Wilkerson called, "The Vision." Wilkerson was a famed preacher in evangelical circles, noted for his courageous decision to leave Pennsylvannia for New York City in the early 60s, in order to seek out and "save" members of the Latino gang, the Mau Maus, after seeing a television news piece about how a young man was allegedly murdered by same. He eventually converted the Mau Maus' then-leader, Nicky Cruz, to Christianity, and to my knowledge, Cruz himself remains a preacher to this day. Wilkerson has also maintained a church in NY's Times Square ever since that time.
David Wilkerson later turned the story into a best-selling book called "
The Cross and the Switchblade
," which was eventually turned into a movie starring Erik Estrada and Pat Boone. Several years later, his book, "The Vision," was published and has since been reissued and expanded with a longer title. In that book, David described a series of events that he saw coming that were full of awe and wonder in terms of dark turns that he saw coming for society as a whole across the globe. As I grew older, still at that time in my inherited belief system, I used Wilkerson's book as a benchmark in terms of unfolding events in the media so that I might be able to gauge where we stood in terms of time and biblical end times. I read many other books after that from so-called prophets, seers and sages, and eventually my horizons expanded into NDEs, technology, sociology and conspiracy, including books like, "
Holy Blood, Holy Grail
" and a variety of others up until the early 90s.
Prior to entering into a government job in the early 80s, I had studied theology for some time. Still grounded within my inherited belief system, I used to drive my instructors somewhat crazy with questions and contradictions, but I didn't hold a candle to people like George Carlin and others who seemed to "get it" long before I did. I wasn't a W.C. Fields type that went "looking for loopholes," in the scriptures. I simply had many sincere questions about a lot of things that just didn't add up for me and sought cogent answers whenever I could get them, even if that simply meant, "I don't know." Being raised Catholic and attending an old school New York Catholic school in my early years, and then our family converting to Pentacostalism when I was about eleven years old left me with a lot of questions as to why certain groups believe one thing, others another and each requires that you believe they are infallible lest you face the wrath of an angry god. That always stuck with me, and as I grew older and began to study cults, mind control and various other dogmas from an observational perspective, my questions really began to increase. It was also around that time, from the late 70s up through the early 90s that I regularly engaged in various forms of consciousness expansion. What started as innocent trips into the woo-woo eventually became regularly scheduled group sessions of exploration by 1985, which I will expand upon a bit later on in this post.
Several years prior to that, in late September of 1983, I had my first full-blown encounter with a dark entity. I was working for the government at the time, and outside of my job, I ran with a rather progressive group of hipsters in New York. We were all fully engaged in the post-punk music and art scenes, and I would often use virtually all of my spare time organizing, preparing for and hosting parties and various group trips around the city exploring concerts and after hours clubs. I was a club kid. This had been going on full-tilt for about two and a half years before the fateful September night, and by then my roommates and I had turned our house into a non-stop weekend party and crash destination for club-goers in the city and western Long Island. Some nights there would be well over fifty people there, with as many as twenty crashing there each night. It was during this time that a close friend began to become interested in witchcraft.
In much the same way that we would borrow and trade 7-inch singles from the likes of The Cure, Depeche Mode and The Cramps, along with various counter-culture books, one night upon leaving one of the parties this friend pulled a black hardbound book from his jacket pocket and said, "You know, I've been getting into this stuff. You should check it out," and left the book with me as he departed. It was a very old book. I remember the dark black binding and the red letter embroidered (or embossed; it was raised and unique) title on the book's face, although I don't remember the actual title of the book. I don't recall even opening it to see what the book contained. I had messed around with seances in the past, but nothing serious. The dark arts never much appealed to me, and with my early belief system still intact at that time, I had a palpable fear of god and understood certain areas were best off limits for me in terms of conjuring or pledging any kind of allegiance to other-worldly entities.
The book was in the house for about three days, and remained in the living room where I'm not even sure if any of my roommates even bothered to look at it. Then, on a rather normal Tuesday night, I went to bed at around 11:30pm, with my stereo on softly, tuned to WLIR, the nation's first alternative commercial radio station, as was customary for me at the time. I had two roommates. We all worked together during the day. One, who was married but separated from his wife, had chosen to stay with her at her place that night because they were trying to reconcile. The other one was a communications specialist, who typically worked shifts of twelve hours on, twelve hours off four days a week. The house was empty except for me. I can remember falling asleep, door closed, and looking at the soft blue glow of the stereo receiver on the other side of the room as I closed my eyes. I quickly fell asleep.
When I was awakened, several states of awareness became apparent to me in a matter of milliseconds. First, I was paralyzed and couldn't move my body at all. Second, I wasn't exactly sure just where I was, as I was fully consciousness and hyper-aware in complete blackness. I felt as though I was still in my room. I had a slight sense of it, but not in the typical astral sense to which I was accustomed. I had astral traveled many times in the past, usually involuntarily, and I instantly knew that this was different, yet I couldn't find any bearing in terms of the astral plane in relation to my room or my body for that matter. It seemed as though I was still in my bedroom, but not. As instantly as all of that data was processed, I became aware of something distinctly greater: I was not alone. There was a presence, positioned at what would be about six or seven feet away from me just inside of the door of my room, and I immediately knew - in a cosmic sense - that It knew who I was and I - on some level outside of my normal sphere of consciousness - knew either who or at least what It was.
I was terrified beyond belief. Terrified doesn't even begin to articulate what I felt. There are no words to describe it. An ant at the feet of an enormous giant. I instantly felt as if the planet earth was a million miles away, and It and myself were the only two energetic presences I could perceive infinitely, in sea of complete blackness. Alone, just the two of us. I also "knew" deep within my soul, that It could obliterate me into pieces in a second. This sense of knowing was beyond anything I'd ever experienced in my physical life up until that point, and I found it hard to fathom the feelings since they were so far beyond my normal parameters of perception. The next sense of knowing that came into my awareness, and we're still talking seconds at this point, was that I realized that I could shift my focus in any direction, as if I was pinned to the center of a circle, but I was detached from my physical body and in essence, couldn't move anywhere within this space, only turn and shift focus from the designated point that I found myself in. I focused my attention in the complete opposite direction of where I felt the entity was positioned, although I still perceived my surroundings in a 360° sense.
Another horrid realization filtered through my being: the amount of what we call evil and what we could possibly conceive in terms of the worst, most horrific abominations that could be committed within our physical world on earth could not even hold a candle to this entity's sheer, raw, unbridled power. I perceived that the power that this entity held could have slaughtered the entire planet in an instant, and that was only a tiny portion of It's immense power. I panicked. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't see It, and was horrified that if the blackness lifted and I could see It, I wouldn't be able to handle whatever I would see, as the power that It exuded was well beyond my comprehension. The next thing that happened was a very large, light greenish-yellow eye moved across the field of vision of my mind's eye from left to right rather quickly. I hadn't felt anything come any closer to me, and from what I could sense, I felt as though It might have been six or seven feet to the left of my bed near the door. I cried out to god, to Jesus, to save me from whatever this entity was, and said that over and over and over until I sensed in an instant It was no longer there.
This had only been a matter of a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Along with the feeling of being millions of miles away from the earth was also a feeling of timelessness. The next thing I knew my eyes opened, I was surprised to see that I was still in the same position in which I had fallen asleep, noticing the soft blue glow of the stereo as my eyes opened. I still couldn't move my body for several minutes, but slowly strained and focused my eyes hesitantly toward the door of my room, which was toward the left corner of the foot of my bed in the direction that I was lying on my side. To my amazement, I immediately noticed that there was what looked like an open black umbrella suspended in mid-air near the ceiling, slightly angled down, maybe at 30 degrees, pointed in my direction. I stared at it, fascinated, wondering what it was. Until very recently, I've never been able to even attempt to figure out what that was. Was it a symbol? If so, what did it mean? This bothered me for years until I finally gave up trying to figure it out.
About a week ago, I came across renderings of something called the
Osiris Device (or Ta-Wer) on
William Henry's website, and then I saw it again several days later in a book by James Evan Bomaer III that I will mention as later in this post. The device is essentially a guarded, ancient secret tool for creating wormholes. This umbrella-like object was much darker than the surrounding room, and I could see it very clearly. It was suspended in mid-air, and appeared to go into the ceiling, but I could still see it as one full object as if the ceiling wasn't there. I couldn't see a stem or handle, and because it looked exactly like an umbrella, I began to count the edges and noticed that it had eight sides along its outer edge. In an instant after I counted the sides, it suddenly disappeared. As it did so, fear immediately began to engulf me as I dreaded that whatever it was might return and I'd have a heart attack on the spot. At that time, I was a highly trained law enforcement officer, and my sense of "ooh-rah" adrenaline was pumping so hard that it felt like my ears were going to explode. Another minute or two went by before I realized that I was able to move my physical body again, and I slowly positioned myself to leap off of the bed, much like a cat. I figured I had one quick shot at the light switch. I then jumped off of the bed and made a mad dash for the light switch near the door in about two steps. I hit the wall hard and flicked the switch. Light on. I turned around and went over to the stereo and turned the volume up, then went back to the door, slowly opening the it to find that a light was on in the living room.
At that time, I didn't know that I was the only one in the house. Anyone could have come or gone, as at that time I didn't know how long I had been asleep. I thought it was about 4am. It sure felt like it. I went to both of my roommate's doors, knocked and opened the doors almost simultaneously, only to see empty beds in each room. I turned the lights on in their rooms, followed by every other light, television and stereo in the entire house. My next thought, since it was still dark out, was "What time is it? How long had I been sleeping?" It was 12:13am. I hadn't even been asleep for 45 minutes. I spent the rest of the night sitting on the top of the back of our large couch in the living room with my feet on the seat cushions, chain smoking cigarettes. I didn't know when exactly either of my roommates would return, but there was no way that I was going to go back to sleep. I knew I had to be a work at 8am as well, but I had so much adrenaline pumping during those hours that I didn't care. I was scared to sleep for the next several days. Around 7:20am, my roommate who was the communications specialist, returned with his breakfast in hand. His first comment upon seeing me on top of the couch with my back against the wall was, "Dude," (he was from California), "What are you doing? You look like you saw a ghost," with a surprised expression and a smile on his face, expecting that I was going to play some kind of joke on him.
I proceeded to ramble to my roommate for several minutes about what had happened as he spread out his breakfast on the coffee table and began to eat. He was taken aback that I had ended up sitting there all night, but told me that he was convinced that something extraordinary had happened because he'd never seen me that pale and nervous before. I felt I had no choice but to sit in a place where I could see much of the one-story house with all of the electronic devices switched on. I was still more than wide awake, and I had to be at work soon. I quickly got dressed and headed out the door to grab a coffee and more cigarettes from the delicatessen that was three doors down from us on the corner before I got in my car and went to work. I headed down the front walkway and made a right on to the sidewalk, anxious to get a coffee. As I was passing the first neighbor's house, I heard buzzing, but it didn't register at first. I was on a mission with the clock ticking, hoping that I wouldn't be late for work. When I got to where I was passing one of the two large shrubs that were at the end of the our immediate neighbor's driveway, a swarm of large, green-eyed flies came out of the shrub and surrounded me. They were big, but not quite as big as horseflies.
I'd never seen that many flies concentrated in one place in my life. It was like a cloud that had mass, there were so many of them. They startled me. I began flailing my arms and then I burst into a sprint as fast as I could down to the deli on the corner. By the time I hit the front door of the deli, I had gotten away from the cloud. As I returned down the sidewalk to get into my car, which was in front of our house, there were no flies at all in or around the shrub. That day I could hardly focus on work. I sat at my desk and typed a letter to myself, vividly describing what had happened so that I would never forget it. It was all I could do that day. Thankfully it was a slow day and I wasn't called to do anything outside of the office. I carried the paper, a fully typed page, single spaced, in my wallet for the next six or seven years before somehow eventually lost track of it. I tried to incorporate every detail I could, stopping occasionally and typing, "Never forget this" in capital letters. I know I never thew the piece of paper away, but one day in the early 90s I noticed that it was gone and I never came across it in any of my household boxes.
That night when I got home from work, both of my roommates were there, and I recounted what had happened during the previous evening. I had located my friend's book on witchcraft while we talked, and had then postulated with my roommates as to whether or not that book being in the house could have had anything to do with what happened. There was no way to tell. Still, I called the friend who had given it to me the previous weekend, and virtually demanded that he come by the house because I wanted to give him the book back. He came, we all talked for a bit and he happily took back the book and left. We had been friends for a few years, but as it turned out I never saw him after that night. As it got later, my roommates went to bed. I sat for a couple of hours by myself until it was about 1:15am, with the thought of "Call your parents and tell them what happened," repeatedly playing over and over in my mind. I was in my early 20s then, and my parents lived north of Boston at the time, so we were in the same time zone. I was raised in New York and we moved to Chicago when I was ten, where I lived with my family for about eight years until I moved to California and began working for the government. I returned to New York several years before this time after attending school in northern California. As I debated calling my parents, all I could think of was that I was going to wake them up and they were going to think I was completely nuts, but I couldn't find any peace. Even knowing my roommates were both in the house, I was too scared to sleep.
Finally, I called my parents and my mom answered the phone. I began to tell her what had happened, hoping for encouragement and guidance - yet feeling almost certain that I wouldn't find any peace or answers - and would instead most likely get a healthy serving of bible-based condemnation. Surprisingly, my mom listened, and said after several minutes, "I'm going to let your father talk to you. He has something he wants to tell you." My dad got on the line. "Hey guy. I've been listening to part of what you've said. Tell me again what the details were." I did so, and when I was done, to my amazement, my father said, "Okay. Listen. From what you're describing, it sounds exactly like an experience I had about eleven years or so ago when were first planning to move to Chicago. It was when we had already bought the new house, and I was taking trips to Chicago, staying in the house for days at a time before you guys moved out there. I was alone in the house when this happened to me as well."
He went on to tell me that although he didn't know the specifics of what was going on in my life, he thought that I was clearly at a crossroads of some kind, and I was likely being shown that I had two paths to choose. He told me that I should spend time considering my life and potential directions I might be headed in, and exercise some sound judgment in terms of my future decisions. I didn't mention the book, since I didn't know if it had anything to do with the occurrence. Wow. I was beside myself. Talk about validity. It would still be another couple of hours before I decided to go to sleep, but I felt a sense of peace that I hadn't had prior to speaking with my parents. At the same time, the fact that the same experience happened to my father raised even more questions as to the nature of the encounter and what it meant. For years afterward, I would cautiously anticipate the arrival of the anniversary date, and slept with the lights on in my bedroom for many years thereafter. I had never been afraid of the dark prior to that point, but this experience changed all of that for some time when it came to sleeping in the dark. I moved out of the house a couple of months after that to live with my girlfriend at the time. About six months after that, I moved to Boston. I found about about a phenomenon called Night Terrors after that time, read about them for a time and several years later caught a show on cable that explored the topic, showing people from sleep studies who were jumping around on beds, terrified. Although similar in some ways, I knew that my experience with the entity was entirely different.
By 1984, I had amassed a new set of hipster friends in Boston. We had the means whereby we could do journey work on a regular basis. Without going into detail regarding the means, let me just say that Terence McKenna would have been extremely proud. I had read about Timothy Leary, McKenna and others, but it would be another fifteen years before I could put my experiences in Boston from '84-'86 into perspective regarding the depth in which we engaged in something that we knew little about. We had a core group of four couples that would regularly get together, occasionally augmented by as many as ten to fifteen others. We got together nearly every weekend for over two years. Sometimes at homes, other times in deserted public places late at night, and down the rabbit hole we would go. When I look back at it now, I wish that I had the knowledge I possess at present to do such explorations. We were innocent as children in many ways, and our adventures were primarily fun, beautiful and quite amazing. Although I had always considered myself a shaman of one sort or another, partially because of the mediums through which I was creating art at the time and partly because of my open, exploratory nature when it came to consciousness and exploring the frontiers of reality, I hadn't read much about shamanism at that point, just Castaneda, and it would still be several years before I dismantled my inherited belief system.
It was "
My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts
" during this time. I estimate as a group we made seventy or so journeys into the woo-woo over the course of two years. I had engaged in some similar experiences prior to the forming of this group and ended up doing a few in the early 90s, but nothing compared to this time. The means through which we connected was on-par with DMT, no doubt about it. I'm talking full-blown, welcome to another dimension here. Conversations with beings, bold, vivid planetary landscapes, architecture and a heightened sense of perception that made music seem like it came from everywhere. Eating fruit was like having an orgasm and was one of our favorite things to do during the lulls between drifting into other worlds during these trips. Sex was incredible, though I should mention that it was not engaged in by the group as a whole; only the life partners one on one in private. We were very focused, respectful and loving to one another. Nearly every single one of these experiences was pure bliss. We would experiment like crazy by preparing our environments prior to "take off" so that we could enhance what we were doing (lights, sounds) in any way that we could think of during the work week prior to getting together. I had experimented with all kinds of "tools" prior to this, and I can state without a doubt that this particular blend of enhancement tools was far and above anything I had ever experienced before or after that time, including the many natural, holistic tools and the pharmaceuticals that were available at the time. It was completely unique.
A couple of times we set up strobe lights and sat as a group in front of them for three or four hours straight, remarkably enjoying what appeared to be group hallucinations that were like gateways into particular types of experiences. I don't recommend that for anyone, as the residue it leaves on your eyes stays with you for long hours afterward and can really become annoying. I learned so many things in terms of how thoughts arise in our brains as images through these journeys. I eventually found this point in my mind where it occurred, as if images were projected from somewhere in the back of my brain on to what I know as my mind's eye, which would vividly be displayed on the inside of my eyelids with as much of a sense of reality as we each experience the day to day physical world. Thoughts came initially as images that looked like intricate paintings that arose from what appeared like the surface of still water, as if you would see a canvas rise out of water and stop. They were beautifully detailed images. I eventually learned to control this process and juxtapose combinations of images in extremely interesting ways. Possibilities seemed endless. I called it my pool of creativity and became enthralled at how amazing it was. I sensed this was the same for all of us, and felt blessed that the Creator gave us such wonderfully amazing mental potential.
These were joyous, wonderful times, and our group grew closer and closer. All of the walls between us came down very quickly, and over time it was like we were a closely knit family enjoying our own private amusement park on a weekly basis. So many things happened, so many discoveries. It was blissful in many ways. At one point well-into the two year run, the group was all at my apartment, where I lived with my girlfriend at the time. It was a brownstone building with high ceilings. Everyone was doing their thing. We were all lost in our own worlds, on our own journeys and it was relatively quiet in the early morning hours. I was sitting at a table in the living room, and had gone into the other-worldly state very deeply. As I came back to a fully conscious / awakened state within the physical world, I opened my eyes and saw the room that I was in come slowly into focus as if I was approaching it from afar through a tunnel. The curtains in the living room started to become clear to me. I recognized the pattern. They were a light blue color with long stemmed flowers on them. As they came into view, I was able to ascertain where I was, and from the perspective of where I had just been, the thought that came to mind was, "Wait. This is where I am in my life right now - only here? Oh, man," as if I had already lived way beyond that point and knew that there was much more experience ahead of me. I was slightly bummed out, but the feeling of what caused that perspective really intrigued me for some time afterward.
Toward the end of this time of multiple journeys, things began to change. Two of the last three times that we entered into this state, I had what you would call bad trips into the other-zones. One night a found myself in a dark labyrinth, where the usual full-color perceptions where all only hazy degrees of purple and pink. The walls looked like cotton candy or spider webs. When doing this type of journey and entering into other worlds, often when one comes back to the physical world and full-color perception of the other-worlds breaks down, as it decays one see's what appears to be somewhat like a wire framework. First, most of the colors dissolve, then a reddish frame of the objects that were in view remains, finally shrinking further to purple outlines before thinning and completely disappearing. Anyone who has use psilocybin mushrooms has probably seen the purples and reds in wavy streams, although without ever getting beyond that point if that's how far you've ventured, one never realizes the profundity of the full light spectrum that lies beyond. After the labyrinth, I journeyed down what seemed like an endless curving and descending mineshaft at one point, eventually confronted with the feeling that I wouldn't be able to make it back because the length of the fall seemed endless. Both the labyrinth and the seeming mineshaft were similar, although the shaft was set against a darker black backdrop.
In later years I came to understand this as going into the lower astral planes. Back then it just scared me and I started to get the sense that it was time to move on, yet we continued a little further. One night shortly thereafter, our group had gathered with some of our other friends and there were about fifteen of us, ready for a long night of enjoyment and exploration. It was like any other night, early Spring of 1986 and everyone was having a good time for the first few hours. We were at a friend's home that night, and I was sitting with my girlfriend on the couch in the living room watching television. Typically we would go in and out of this major hallucinatory state for extended periods, come out for few minutes or so, drink some water or eat some fruit and then disappear into other worlds again. We were all able to easily function normally again during the breaks before going back into the etherial worlds as our experience levels increased over time. The television was tuned to MTV, and the Grace Jones video for "
Love Is The Drug" came on. Although most of us worked in the music scene, nobody had never seen that video before, a Roxy Music cover that she had done years earlier that wasn't one of her more popular songs. Like virtually all of what we experienced, this particular video was amazing in that state of mind, and soon everyone was crowded around the television as my girlfriend and I were ranting about how incredible video was. Viewing now for the first time since then, it was definitely ahead of it's time.
When the video ended, an MTV station promo came on. Seconds after it appeared and I saw the MTV logo, I experienced something so riveting that I jumped to my feet in astonishment. It was if in an instant, everything that I had come to know as the world in which we live and how I perceived it, changed. Bam! Thunderstruck. Like blinders coming off of my eyes, I suddenly began to see the television, the channel, the promo and soon what would end up being everything around me in a completely different light. It felt like having a thick skin pulled off of me and it hurt, badly. On the Scare-O-Meter, I'd put it a close second to my entity encounter back in '83. It scared me to death. My perspective had totally changed. What I saw now was a complete, total, theretofore unrecognized matrix of mind control in plain sight. There it was, and it was ugly. It was like my soul rang like a bell. I felt dirty. I wanted to jump out of my skin. It was so profound, so in-my-face, so overwhelming and so undeniably real that I didn't know what to do with myself. I couldn't sit still. I began pacing around the room, with everyone coming up to me and asking me if I was okay. In a complete reversal of the uber-comfortable vibe that we had enjoyed as a group for the previous two years, I didn't want anyone to touch me. I quickly retreated to the bathroom and stood there as my body uncontrollably buzzed, vibrating wildly. It was like I had been an electrical device that suddenly had freezing cold water poured over it and I began to short circuit. I couldn't deny what I was feeling.
"Truth. See it as it is," kept echoing in my brain. I tried to calm myself down as those same words kept repeating in my mind. I fell to my knees and began to pray. "What is this?" I couldn't wrap my head around it or where it was coming from but it was an awareness that I couldn't deny. Nothing had changed, just the way I saw and felt everything. I stood up a few moments after that, looked up at the ceiling and asked, "Where is this coming from? Am I really seeing the world as it is?" My first reaction was that I didn't want this knowledge, despite all of my experience and education in the past. The next sensation that I felt was like having carbonated soda poured in through the crown of my head. It felt like a bubbling sensation begin to fill my entire body from the top down. "Yesss." The word flowed down and vibrated through my body as if the word was intermingled with the sensation of the bubbles. Without me even having time to react, I found my inner being responding by vibrating back instantaneously, "Father!" without having any time for a conscious decision to respond. It was involuntary and I felt like I was observing a greater part of myself from my left brain.
What amazed me about the auto-response was that my inner being recognized the voice as my father before I could even realize it, but it was not the voice of my earthly father. I was shocked. I had always called my earthly father dad as well, and never used the other word in personal interactions as I felt it was too formal. The next thing I new people were pounding on the bathroom door, asking if I was okay. I quickly calmed myself and emerged from the bathroom, found my girlfriend, grabbed her by the arm and told her that we had to leave. She was still pretty zoned, and everyone in the home was unnerved at what had happened to me. I had the overwhelming urge to just go home, sit and try and sort out what this was. Extremely strange, vivid dreams followed for weeks afterward, where sometimes I felt I was with a companion, possibly an angel, that was several feet taller than me, showing me things, always standing to my right. In one dream I saw that what I was doing as a deejay at the time (massive sound systems, throbbing repetitive beats and basslines) was what Aldus Huxley had written about in "Brave New World," calling it the "Superwirlitzer." I saw the energy forms that I was creating inside of nightclubs. But one dream in particular stood out from the rest.
I was with the taller being and he was standing on my right. We were at a concert venue, up above the crowd to the right of the stage. I recognized that the band playing was The Cure. The Cure had been one of my favorite bands since '81 and I had seen them several times. "What are we doing here?" I said to my tall angelic friend. "Watch." He pointed his right hand toward the center of the stage. Robert Smith was singing, and the crowd was really getting into the show. Just then I noticed someone walking down a center aisle that went to the stage. He pulled out a large knife and started stabbing himself in the chest and then fell to his knees. None of the concert goers seemed to notice or care and that bothered me. The continued to be enthralled by the band. Just like that, the scene closed and I woke up. I told my close friends what I had seen, and about three months later I was with one of them and he said, "Sit down. I have something to tell you." He proceeded to tell me that while he was at a photo shoot the day before (he was a model at the time), that a stylist told him that someone had committed suicide at a Cure show. "I had to tell you that, since that dream you had was so bizarre."
I hadn't even intended to include that story in this post, but for some reason I feel compelled to write about this, and all of the information in this post, which keeps getting longer and longer. I don't know why. I just now, as I write this, decided to check online and see if there's a link to a story like that, and
here it is. I don't know what it meant or why it was shown to me. It makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck when I think about it. I never sought out information about the details of the incident back then, taking my friend's word for it at the time. I later heard that this incident did take place from others, however, this was way before the internet, so information wasn't nearly as readily available as it is now and I didn't feel like going to a library to search for something like that. Apparently, from what the online story says, the man survived. I did not know that. At the time of the dream I assumed it was a suicide. It was rather a relief to just read about it now, but I still don't know why this or other things were shown to me. It was also something that happened on the other side of the country, and concerned nobody that I knew. Anyway, that was the last of my journey work for some time to come. Whether this real life incident was precisely what I had seen remains unclear, however, the measure of coincidence and the timing is far to high for me to ignore. At that point I suppose you could say that I was a little freaked out.
The type of waking "knowing" experience that began with the Grace Jones video I would later describe to friends as "soul shocks." They continued off and on for several years afterward. I could never tell when one was going to happen. I could be reading a magazine, looking at a billboard, watching television, listening to a song or just talking to someone and "Rip!" It would be as though the insular blinders would fall right off again and I would see clearly that we are living within is some kind of mass mind-controlled society. Every time a soul shock happened, I wanted to run and hide. I couldn't turn it off. Often it made me nauseous and claustrophobic. When it came over me, it just came, and sometimes it would stay with me for hours. My heart rate would increase, I would start to sweat and occasionally, if the soul shock was intense, I would literally tremble. Many times the trembling events would be spawned if I happened to be watching the news. I could clearly see that society was quickly headed down a path to a place that none of us wanted to be in, as if it was all orchestrated along various aspects of probability, and that we were being programmed to accept a reality that runs contrary to our true nature. I could see how deep the illusion was during these experiences. It was crystal clear to me and I dreaded whenever the next soul shock would occur. For several weeks after the first shock, I found it very difficult to talk to people other than my girlfriend.
A few days after the first soul shock, I was deejaying at a nightclub where I was a resident mixologist and had a chance to take a break after I introduced a band that was playing that night. I went outside and sat on the curb, still desperately trying to figure out what had happened during that initial shock. I sat with my head in my hands, still shattered by the experience every time I thought about it. A hand touched my shoulder, and I looked up to see one of the guys I worked with who was doing security that night standing next to me. He was a friend and had been to a few of our gatherings over the previous two years but wasn't there on that particular night of the first shock. "Hey. You okay? I heard what happened." He sat down next to me. We both stared across the street. "You know there's no turning back from this. They know who you are now," he said. I turned and looked at him, and couldn't think of anything to say. We locked eyes and I just stared at him for a few moments. As he looked back at me he remained silent. After another minute or so, he slowly broke into a soft smile, stood up, patted me a couple of times on the shoulder, turned and went back into the club. Did he know something I didn't? He was highly intelligent and was attending Harvard at the time. I definitely didn't feel like he was patronizing in the least. After all, we were good friends and I knew him to be a very compassionate person.
What he said profoundly affected me from that point forward. We never talked about it again, and I never asked him to whom he was referring. It just seemed to fit somehow and I took it to mean that he understood that I had broken through some kind of barrier, even though the "they" he spoke of was unknown to me. An earthly they? An other worldly they? I had no way of knowing and figured that ultimately it didn't really matter. Our group pretty much disbanded after that. One of my closest friends in the group started a story around the experience saying that I freaked out. But I knew that wasn't true. We were extremely safety conscious and part of my government training in previous years was as a paramedic. I had journeyed so often by that time that I knew when I was in control and when I wasn't, and from the time I stood up in front of the television when the first soul shock occurred, I was as sober and grounded as a slab of granite. This was something different and I knew it. As much as we pushed the envelope into experiencing other worlds, this was no freak out. This was some kind of shift for me, some wall I had broken through.
The soul shocks continued until some time into 1993. Maybe five or six times a year, lessening in frequency and intensity as time went on. I never saw them coming. The last time one of severe intensity occurred was during the winter of 1993, while I was in Florida visiting my parents in their vacation home. Everyone had gone to bed and it was close to midnight. My mom and I were in the dining room. It was my first night there. We were catching up and she said, "Oh, we've been going to this great church lately. The woman is a prophet and she's really inspired. You have to hear her." She went to grab a cassette and put it in a player on the dining room table. We listened for a few minutes as we continued to talk, eventually moving to the nearby couch in the living room as the cassette played. The volume on the cassette player was low, and quite frankly I wasn't even paying attention to it after a few minutes as we continued to talk on the couch.
The woman on the tape began to talk about a prophecy her daughter had received regarding Saddam Hussein that had come to her in a lucid dream or vision. The delivery of the prophecy contained a song that the mother (prophet) began to sing at one point. She said that Saddam was key to a series of unfolding events that would trigger a change in the course of history, sending us into what the bible calls the end times. She began to describe a process whereby we would go to war with Iraq again because attacks would occur in the US and that world events would be shaped into such a way by international government agencies that life around the civilized world would change drastically. I learned all of this the next day in detail after going back and listening to the cassette by myself, but it was the song that struck something inside of me, like a child's song that I had heard before. I fast-forwarded over the song during my second listen. There were only three lines to the song. It was simple and had a semi-haunting, semi-playful melody to it. The song supposedly came from an angel that said to the prophet's daughter that the hosts of heaven all knew the song. I couldn't listen to it again. It was etched in my brain. After all these years I can still hear it clearly.
Back to my initial reaction to the song as the woman began to sing on the tape: Upon hearing the woman sing the song-part of the prophecy, before I even realized it, my body stood up straight, and I began to tremble uncontrollably. "It's going to happen, it's going to happen," I just kept repeating that over and over and I could not stop shaking. The degree to which I trembled was greater than the first soul shock back in '86. As I said, up until that point during the initial playing of the cassette, I wasn't even listening to the tape anymore. It was that song, like a reminder that you left something burning on the stove in your home and you're miles away when an eerily cold reality smacks you in the face as you realize your house is probably on fire by now. My mom looked scared and her eyes filled up with tears. She put her arms firmly around me in an effort to get me to stop shaking. I couldn't believe it. I had virtually no control of myself.
The song triggered a major soul shock - and a deja-vu of epic proportions, like I was remembering something that I had learned long ago that indicated a tipping point would eventually occur, one that I learned about somewhere but couldn't recall where. I couldn't place where the deja-vu was coming from, but it felt like I knew this information somewhere deep inside of me. My knees went out and my mom held me and made sure I settled back down on the couch. With the knowing came a sense of "this will the beginning of the end - everything from then on begins the steep decline." Not the end of the world, but an end to the world that I had come to know up until that point. I felt sick. I wanted to throw up. I felt like I could see that it was all part of a master plan of mind control, and that Saddam would be used as an instrument in a plan to further bring about restrictions people's perceptions and their freedoms in coming years. It was going to be the alarm bell for the rise of the international police state.
I wanted so badly to just run away from my mind at that point, but there was obviously no place to go. That's quite a strange sensation to experience and one that outside of the soul shocks, I was not accustomed to feeling. I couldn't deny the sense of truth that overcame me in terms of what the woman on the tape was saying, and this despite the fact that by that point in my life, I had written off so-called prophets nearly completely after years of watching predictions fail. In the days after I returned home, I rummaged through a closet to find my old copy of "The Vision" and sat down to read it for the first time since the late 70s. I was startled by some of what I had forgotten that Wilkerson had predicted back in the late 60s when he received his vision and wrote that book. Much of what he said had already come to pass by late '93. Thankfully, my soul shocks subsided after that, and I haven't had a significant one since, even as the September 11th attacks occurred and I watched the television. That morning I just felt extremely sad and generally ill, especially since it was my place of birth and home during two periods of my life.
However, as the hours passed and they started tossing Hussein's name around as potential a culprit or collaborator, that song flew into my head again. I hadn't thought about it in many years. I wondered if we would go to war in Iraq again, and if we did, if this eight year old prophecy about to come true. The whole drama of the attacks seems quite contrived to me now, even blatantly obvious. I see the public being sold a story while larger interests are at play. There are way too many loose ends, and when one figures into the equation the further permeation of Milton Friedman's models of disaster capitalism (problem: reaction: solution), it's as easy as "duh" for me, without regard to any prophecies. Having worked for the government and seen things from the inside, how problems are dealt with and created, it's a no brainer.
I had read about PNAC before 2001. The conspiracy movements have that one right in my view, along with the Kennedys. It's the military industrial complex and the intelligence agencies and to them, it's just business, pure and simple. The powers that be know that they can play these people like those electrified dancing chickens that they used to have in the windows of shops decades ago, because the myth of the greater picture is virtually impenetrable. "Boo! Gotcha." It's just another day at the office for them.
You have to stand in awe of the tremendous power of belief systems and how people can be manipulated through their beliefs. That's a whole other rabbit hole. I don't follow any of the conspiracy sites. They can bring down one's vibration. I know new bits of information have trickled out here and there, some very recently, but what's done is done. It only serves for perspective at this point. It broke my heart to watch it happen as it did.
I did some of what I would call mild, journey-related work a couple of times after that, but those experiences didn't come anywhere near the degree of the late 80s excursions. It wasn't until December of this past year that I had a chance to explore salvia divinorum, during which time I very cautiously experienced the highest dosage value available, in an effort to explore what that was like after listening to a Terence McKenna video lecture on salvia that was recorded before he passed. That too, was nowhere near the other-dimensional experiences of the past, and frankly I found the experience to be extremely overrated, even at the maximum available potency. I sort of felt like it was a joke compared to what I was used to and was ultimately very disappointed. I did, however, have experiences. One of the reasons that I decided to try it was to seek answers for my current life situation. I carefully made preparations, meditated and chanted for a time before taking off, and anxiously awaited an extraordinary experience. Before doing so, I thought about the earlier times, and how much more I now know about shamanism and journey work. I felt more confident in terms of being able to use the salvia experiences to seek specific answers as opposed to exploration and the certain entertainment value that was my approach in the past.
I tried it several times over the course of two days. The first thing that I noticed was that the physical reality around me appeared to me like it was being projected from a long tube that curved and went upward, slightly curving, as if I was at the end of a long funnel or cone, the borders of which were adorned with pleasing geometries that all seemed to be moving in a balanced motion around the inside wall of the tube. In a larger sense, it also seemed like a wheel or a clock, like it was being rolled and turning. The next thing I saw on the first run were what looked like holographic snapshots from various points when I was a small child; luminescent, transparent photos that had a sweet sense of nostalgia to them. I sensed no beings around me during multiple excursions, which disappointed me, as I had reached out to guides and guardian angels prior in mediation, letting them know that I was seeking guidance and some direction.
Each time was relatively the same thing, with certain minor changes, including some interesting and/or funny mental images here and there. I realized though during the first run that I was in the same zone that I had regularly ventured to during journeys of the past. It's that feeling that when you're there, in that space, you chuckle to yourself and say, "Oh, yeah. I'm tripping," and the cares of the physical world seem to ridiculously silly and unneeded as they melt away into the background. I knew I was in the place into which the shaman venture, and one of the best things about it was it felt like I had never left, even though it had been many years since I was in that space. I received a lot of perspective as previous journeys came to mind and gave me a sense of closure, especially the time that I went into the lower astral planes. I felt no fear. All in all it was good and served me well because it spotlighted much of what I already knew but hadn't connected. However, I was expecting something much greater, and found no answers to the questions that I had at the time.
Which brings me back to the Susan Reed book that I mentioned earlier, and why I don't typically talk about those subjects, or those that David Icke speaks about, because I had decided after the last intense soul shock back in late '93 that it was time to change the path I was on. In previous years I had amassed so many books on conspiracy theories, prophecies and the like that I realized it was time to focus the nature of my journey on other things. Prior to that point, I found myself at times a bit obsessed with trying to bring my then-mosaic into a clearer view and place it on some kind of linear time line in history. I'm glad that I changed my path, as what came in the years that followed greatly enhanced my spiritual journey. In later years, I no longer felt as if I was turning attention toward anything relating to fear or looking for things outside of my inner self. I had since focused my journey inward and had discovered a lot that I hadn't known before. The ensuing knowledge really put me in a place where I could experience something like the Cosmic Initiation of late '09 - early '10 that I wrote about and have referred to so much on this blog.
The other night, though, I was on one of the few spirituality forum sites that I belong to before I went to bed. I don't post much in forums. I like to read about the experiences of others and gain knowledge, but most forums to me seem like endless blather and are often argumentative. It was late, and for some reason I felt as though I was looking for something, but I didn't really know what it was. I had checked a few blogs that I follow in the hour prior, but still felt as though there was something for me to see, so I signed into one of the forums to which I belong and checked one of the posts on the main page. In the replies to this one particular post where someone was asking for some guidance, I came across a link to a website called
The Resistance and clicked on it.
Upon first viewing that website's man page I thought, "Ugh. Another conspiracy site," and was about to close my browser when I noticed an upload by the site's creator, who curiously enough goes by the same name as the pseudonym under which I have written this blog, Sevan, only I had changed the spelling of my name about a month ago, lest it sound like "seven" by inserting an "h" toward the end. On the Resistance website there was this video upload which caught my eye - high frequency sound waves that increase over the course of a minute or two, stop, and start again, accompanied by pulsating video wave forms. I thought it was interesting, and after viewing it I poked around a bit and found quite a number of reading materials. One of the books that is uploaded in their reading section got my attention. I opened it and immediately began reading. The book is called, "
The Code To The Matrix," by James Evans Bomaer III, and was completed during the summer of 2009.
I drew me in rather quickly. The subject matter hooked me because at first because it sounded like the writer was explaining an experience similar to my initiation. I kept reading because I thought he was going to get specific as to how he achieved a super connection to Source, whom he refers to as the Most High. My initiation happened randomly and gradually, ebbing and flowing for some time, punctuated with periods of intensity that began with the arrival of a distinct electrical charge on my back that latter became a constant pulsating vibration that at times covered my entire body, radiating from a central point. His state was achieved through chanting for two hours, although he never mentioned what he was chanting, which ended up being a bummer. As I got toward the end of the book my anticipation grew, thinking surely he would go into detail about reaching the super connected state, but it wasn't there.
Just like Susan Reed's book, although this one is slightly better, the grammar, spelling and syntax made it difficult for me to stay focused initially. It appeared to be written rather hastily, which I can understand, but at the same time, I thought, "Really? Have someone do a proof-read. It makes it all the more interesting for the reader." It was also a little tough with white letters on a solid black background at 254 pages. The Flash reader, though, through which it is presented, had an easy zoom-in-out control that was very convenient. I almost stopped several pages in because like Susan's book, I felt it difficult to engage with the aforementioned inattention to proper grammar, but something told me to read on, and to think about it as though it was one of my friends from South America, Asia, the Middle East or Europe who speaks English well enough, but writing the language is another matter. With that in mind, it became more bearable and I spent several hours reading through it rather slowly, as there is a lot to comprehend and take in within the book's pages. Occasionally I would go to a search engine on another screen for cross-checks.
A little bit of sugar, a little bit of salt,
Take unto you the keys, and open up the vault.
I resisted writing that rhyme down for several minutes, but it kept repeating as I read, so I eventually wrote it down. That type of thing doesn't happen while I'm reading something, and I chuckled that it had appeared like a loop in my mind, thinking that it was mostly silly, but nonetheless there it was. "Code" focuses on much of what David Icke has been writing and talking about for a long time and it mirrors a lot of what Susan Reed wrote about in "Body Snatchers," although "Code" is written from more of an historical, educational perspective, while Susan's book is interpersonal, focusing on events in her life as they related to becoming indoctrinated into a world of alien conspiracy. Again, if you can get past the grammar and syntax, and you are one who enjoys exploring the aspects of prominent mind control within our global culture, I recommend looking at both works. Several elements of my initiation period came to light while reading "Code," along with a lot of context for my reading during the 80s and my soul shock experiences. It appeared to be another guided information sourcing session for me... something that I was meant to read and I'm glad that for that. In "Code," there is a fair amount of focus on the English language, wordplay, anagrams in particular, and the power that resides within the words we choose to use. For instance, when children are young and first introduced to language, they are taught first to "spell" and shortly thereafter to write in "cursive." Think about those words for a moment. There is also a heavy focus on symbolism.
Symbols have fascinated me since I was a teen and I have used their power in marketing campaigns. People love to rally around symbols. During my many years in marketing, I had two sayings that I lived by and preached to those who worked with me, "We communicate with symbols and images," and "Perception is ninth tenths of reality." I thought for many years that the latter phrase was my own creation, however, I read at one point that the late Joseph Kennedy, father of John, Ted and Robert said the same thing back in the 40s or 50s. The author introduces a lot of interesting points in "Code," however, I did find several factual errors within the text, along with a couple of mis-labeled photos. Although I did find errors, the sheer volume of the information presented put the errors in the distinct minority. Once I was past all of that, I found that Bomaer had presented some serious food for thought that really got me pondering along the lines of mind control for the first time in a long time, particularly from the viewpoint that it is quite possibly so layered now, so intricate and such a part of the overall social structure that it's nearly undetectable.
It's typically a turn-off for me when people get so carried away with symbols that it becomes obsessive. There are several websites out there that focus on Illuminati symbols, etc. so much so that it's all they do. I don't see the point, really. I can get ridiculous after a while. "Yes, yes. Got it. Next." It's one thing to point out potential ties to dark concepts, however, it's an entirely different thing to offer theory and advice on how to break such controls, if they do indeed exist, in terms of taking solid action within the physical plane. In all of my time within the music industry, although I had been to many, many a wild party and worked closely for years with many executives who sat the top of the power structure of the business, I never saw or heard of any type of ritualistic initiations or anything closely resembling some of what I had read in books and on websites. Even when it came to the productions of music videos, I've never seen or heard about the insertion of Masonic or other symbols. If I had, I would have most certainly written a book on it, as coupled with my background reading for many years, it would have been a real Aha moment. I'm not saying that such things don't exist, they certainly do, but they are not exclusive to any one industry or as pervasive as many fear mongers would lead people to believe. It's possible that symbols and coding wind up in certain mediums because those on the lower levels putting these things together don't realize that there are larger spiritual forces at work, inspiring certain concepts and designs, etc. I believe that is the case more often then not... "they know not what they do."
Anagrams may seem like child's play to the average person, but there are real questions about the power of the words we use and their ability to alter reality. Anagrams are used in computer programming, for example, as
recursion examples in algorithms. Recursion means "the process of defining a function or calculating a number by the repeated application of an algorithm." When one looks more closely at life, one sees that creation itself, including the way our circulatory systems are laid out, neuro-pathways in our brains, plants, the structures of leaves and all of our computer databases are examples of recursive branching structures. At the root of all of the development of these creation processes we come of course to
fractals. So even to the uninitiated, it's important to consider that words have more meaning than meets the eye, and anagrams may indeed affect the way we are subtly programmed to perceive the reality around us in the physical world. Scientists are now saying that genes are more shaped by one's environment than the long-running conclusion that they contained locked-in, predestined fates for people. If we are affected by our environment more than had been previously assumed, and the technological media is surrounding us to an increasing degree as we move through time, I have to wonder about mind control and its effects.
According to the latest models in quantum physics, the observer affects what it being observed. When we are not focusing our attention specifically on something (matter), it doesn't actually exist in what we call solid form as we know it. To the contrary, the matter exists in multiple places within a field possibility until one focuses attention on it, at which time it becomes fixed in a position from the point of view of the observer, and this is our consensus reality that we all share. Certainly then there exists the possibility of manipulation. And further certain is the notion that those who possess knowledge to manipulate the consensus reality are in fact doing so. Throw in competing, even purposefully juxtaposed waring belief systems coupled with emotions and you've got quite the stage upon which to direct the play. To get more insight into how words can potentially affect this consensus reality further, one should explore the field of
Neuro Linguistic Programming, which is an approach to psychotherapy that has been growing considerably since the early 90s. I was first introduced to NLP around that time, and although I've read a couple of books on the subject, I have never exercised the a discipline to work steadily with NLP in my personal life. Perhaps its time to consider doing so.
If you stop and really consider for a moment the verse in The Book of John (1:1) that says, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God," you might think for a moment that those books, written hundreds of years after the time of Jesus of Nazareth and edited countless times, have been manipulated to serve a god of a lower order. Should it not read, "In the beginning was Pure Energy..." or perhaps "...was the Most High" (?) I understand there are many ways to interpret that verse, some even saying that it has to do with the creation of the universe and the unspeakable name of the Creator, however, it is interesting when you consider that the written word as language was not around in the beginning, nor for a long time hence, in the history of the human race.
Below are some interesting anagrams that were not included in "Code," that I use here to illustrate a point, as they are representative of another potential rabbit hole:
Chernobyl Nuclear Power Station: As New Pollution Terror By Chance
Anagrams Tell Secrets: Master's Gentle Rascal
Television Programming: Impairment So Groveling
God Bless America: I Massacred Globe
Christianity: It's In Charity
Egotistical Man: Atomic Genitals
Willful Disobedience: Well Fine Bold Suicide
Copyright Violation: Oligotrophic Vanity
Mickey And Minnie Mouse: Kid Mice Mean Money In U.S.
The Microsoft Corporation: Motto Rich Fornicates Poor
Pentium Processor: Computerises Porn
Starbucks Coffee: Brat Coffee Sucks
The Free Market: Fret Meek Earth
The IRS: Theirs
The McDonalds Experience: Peddle Excrement In Chaos
The Monsanto Corporation: No Monitor On Catastrophe
You get the idea. One could explore them virtually endlessly, but as I pointed out, in order to do so, one must learn to "spell" first. The further one goes with anagrams, the more one has to wonder about patterns that emerge, calling into question many things about the English language itself and the fact that the Crown of England / House of Windsor has been and continues to be extremely, possibly primarily influential in world economic and political affairs, despite the Royals being marketed and presented as mere figureheads today. That's just fodder for the general population, just as the Republican and Democratic political parties are for the US. The powers behind these entities that control the wealth and the influence they exert over global affairs are undeniable. Remember that language, like money, was introduced and has developed as we have evolved within the duality consciousness. Language is not a core part of our being, when to compared to thought, for example. Communication is inherit in our nature, yes, but not the language of letters and the written word. In our societal construct today, most take it for granted because it's been introduced to us as part of our social paradigm as a necessity.
I've been fascinated by linguistics since I was young, and loved to explore Latin and Greek root words that appeared within the English language since I was a child. After reading "Code" and pondering the potential of the dark arts and wizardry as it has evolved since ancient times, it stands to reason that those "in the know" would attempt to further extend their influence as much as possible over time. We are in fact human, and greed, as we see every day, is one of our most relentless enemies, primarily because we have also introduced into our social paradigm the concept of ownership, which hasn't always existed either. In a handful of indigenous tribes around the world, it still doesn't exist. What has since been juxtaposed to the concept of ownership is the commoditization of nearly everything, including events, which are now traded in their own arenas, called "
Prediction Markets" and are largely unregulated, if at all, and played a role in the financial debacle of 2008. The line between needs and wants was blurred a long time ago, and now both, merged as one flame, are fueled by the endless marketing engines of desire to serve the profit of a few at the top of any of the many pyramids. If you spend even a little time in nature, and focus on your breath while in the present moment, you can begin to see that this structure we currently call modern life in the civilized world is likely not what the Creator had intended.
Some of what I explored on The Resistance website was relatively interesting. The amount of books in their reading section is rather extensive and I may check out some of them in the future. The subject matter certainly gets one's wheels spinning. What I liked about "Code" though, despite its many flaws, what that the singular theme was a connection to the Most High above all else, and that the degree of mind control is so deep that distractions are nearly everywhere, from the major belief systems to entertainment right down to New Age thinking and even the Melchizedek Order, to which Drunvalo Melchizedek belongs. The "Code" points fingers at virtually everything. It's good to question - everything, and always think for yourself. I took a lot of this information a grain of salt as well, but there were certain insights from "Code" that proved very valuable to me. One could quickly go down a rabbit hole believing that every individual sincerely trying to help or save our race and our future was part of some kind of conspiracy, whether the well-intending soul knew it or not. Only Creator can effectively see into anyone's heart.
If one were to completely go all the way down this particular rabbit hole, one could easily fall prey to all kinds of paranoia, thus, lowering one's vibration. I believe, in the Hermetic sense, that all opposites are ultimately varying degrees of the same thing, therefore, there can be good in bad and bad in good. Heart-focused discernment is needed. Too much judgment and over-thinking can lead to even further mental compartmentalization where the "Boo!" factor arises at nearly every turn. The ultimate lesson here is to go within, and seek a connection only to the wisdom that created you, as difficult as that may appear to do sometimes. It's our only hope, as in the end, we each leave this world alone. It makes sense to set a course for that infinite source of wisdom, the Creator, through the tiny gateway of the heart, in which our wildest hopes and dreams of existence reside. In a way, after reading "Body Snatchers" and "Code," I suppose I've come full circle in some ways. Not that I intend to spend a lot of time diving into conspiracy theories by any means, but with over a year passing since my Cosmic Initiation experience, I definitely have a fresh perspective on some things, including seriously pondering mind control once again, at least a little bit.
This post has ended up being the longest post on this blog thus far. I initially wanted to focus on the two books I had recently read, but as I wrote it became clearer that there was to be much more information included here. I have resisted putting too much of myself into these posts in the past, but I was as driven to write this post as I have been guided to find information during my sourcing or event string sessions. I may have also blundered in the editing in some places along the way in terms of syntax, etc. If you found anything like that in terms of sloppiness, please accept my apologies. Writing all of this and recalling so many intense events has left me rather exhausted.
Below is the vibrational frequency video that I mentioned earlier, which is currently in beta form.
The Resistance website contains instructions as to its recommended usage. I don't know if it's useful or not. I'm just rather curious about it, just as I am about full circles, rabbit holes and mind control.
THE UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE BETA from Sevan on Vimeo.
Peace ; )
" and shared with me a couple of weeks ago. The technique involves affirmations before falling asleep whereby one attempts to creates queues within the physical world that activate lucidity within the dreamworld. Around the same time, I also began a daily ritual of Pranayama Breathing in an attempt to have another kundalini experience. I began both of the techniques in order to reconnect with the expansive cosmic energy forces that dominated my physical world for an extended period a little over a year ago. I have been seeking answers and direction for my life for some time, and have become somewhat frustrated that no apparent solutions have come forth. Yet last week, I had a peculiar experience that I've come to describe as a "Dream Burst." Dream Burst is the best way that I can describe the experience.
. I've only watched this first-third of the film, but I found it quite inspiring. Included in interviews are such people as Robert Thurman, Dannion Brinkley and Greg Braden, among others. 
," which was one of the books that I was directed to obtain during my Cosmic Initiation, which contained the "Eye of the Womb" image that is similar to the Simon game and also represents the Rainbow Body or Light Body in the Bon religion.
," a children's movie that deals with spirituality and the universe on a grand scale. I hadn't, but have since watched it. I was amazed. Mimzy is a bunny - rabbit doll that is sent from the future, along with other tools, to a brother and sister in the present day in order to begin a mass awakening and remembering. It's a fascinating story that parallels a lot of the grand universal history and our true nature as beings of light that is being discussed all over the world right now. I highly recommend viewing the film. I was additionally blown away to see that Mimzy has the spiral / swirl symbol on her belly. My friend who turned me on to the film said that it was a movie for the times. Upon viewing it, I completely agree. Being familiar with the Hollywood system and major motion picture production, we both have since wondered just how this film actually got made. Thankfully, it did.
