Sometimes it is necessary to give up a bit of substance for the sake of knowledge. I woke up today with this sentence in my mind.

It’s like the ‘teach a man to fish…’ metaphor. But these things are not really complete.

I saw somewhere someone wrote that “jack of all trades, master of none…” was not the complete quote. The complete quote included at the end that the jack of all trades was sometimes better at certain types of assignments. Now I cannot remember how the rhyme goes.

Similarly, “Give a man a fish vs. Teach a man to fish” doesn’t show the complete picture. It does not illustrate the difficulty posed. It’s not a matter of just roping the stubborn “taker” into becoming a “learner”. There is a distinct process involved in shifting a man’s attention away from his stomach and focusing it on his curriculum vitae.

And I never really pondered why these sayings and little adages don’t really cut it. But I just woke up and that sentence was there in my head. I think… I think I was thinking in my sleep. Which is something that perhaps happens a lot and I just get distracted upon waking and then forget what the train of thought was.

This morning it seemed really important though, and when I started to contemplate it a whole essayical world started to open up.

You see, last night something happened. My friend said to me, let’s watch a movie tonight. Well, we opened up the “dish” and started to search for something to see. And all of the content seemed inappropriate. It was all pretty dark and mostly included some blood or bloodlike imagery in the opening artwork. I was like, “naw, not this, not that, no, no… hmmm, is there anything here I want to watch.” And then I saw McGyver. I said, ok, let’s see that. Then, when it came on, it turns out it’s an updated SLICK, SLICK, SLICK version of the old TV hit show. It was on for a bit, but I couldn’t watch. It was just grating on me. It literally gave me the inner feeling of fingernails on the blackboard.

I finally just turned around and started talking to my friend about something and she finally just turned off the TV. I was telling her then, at some point, do you remember the movie “It’s a beautiful mind.” I said, well, I am like that man. My brain works that way. You know the scene where he goes into the underground cavernous deep state control room with the big board on the wall with a readout of all the codes they had intercepted from the cold war enemy country. Dr. Nash stands there transfixed in front of it for several hours before he finally turns to the secret military men and tells them what he is seeing, “It’s GPS coordinates”. Then they find out it’s all the location of the “sleepers”, the soviet spys who have invaded our beautiful “peaceful” country.

And then there is the image of the shed Dr. Nash inhabits in his back yard, with the hundreds of magazine and newspaper articicle clippings and other little trinkets and things he has hanging on the pinboard, with yarn and push pins showing relationships between all the bits of information, a veritable chaos of interconnected realities, which no one else but he could decipher, that is, perhaps, unaided by a high powered computer with a complicated AI algorithmic software program.

I said, my brain functions like that. Then when I woke up and after pondering for a few minutes this sentence, I realized, that is how the human brain works, period. Everyone’s brain, except for one little caveat. Everyone’s brain WOULD or COULD operate in that fashion, in its un-manipulated, unaltered, pristine, healthy state. If we were not being constantly “engineered” or re-invented, that is. There is this famous quote from Bucky Fuller, where he is being praised for his achievements and he states that he is not really any more intelligent than anyone else, just, “less damaged”. Which is to say, either they didn’t “fuck with” his brain, or when they did, it didn’t take.

Yes, I said, my brain functions like that, and it does, still, apparently.

After I left this diabolical religious cult, I got a phone, at the insistence of the man who had taken me in. Literally just a day or so after. And at night I used to just scroll YT and TikToks. It would be nasty and exhausting. And it was something else I noticed. It was addictive. I could not stop. It would take me off in this random direction and that random direction and down this and that other rabbit hole until I just wanted to throw it in the corner. But there was always this ‘THIRST’ for more and more. I had a feeling like it was doing something to me that I didn’t like.

I feel like telling everyone everything, but the ideas keep coming in a stream and it’s impossible to write it all before the next thing shows up.

I used to read books like “the man who mistook his wife for a hat”. It’s I realized that the thing of “they have stolen my brain” is true. Our brains have been stolen. And here is how it happened.

I have the mind of a detective. And most people, left to themselves, would have that. It used to be that only the dumbest, most misshapen creatures would be born without this capacity. But, slavery has always been the best, most effective business model, and having bought and paid for Washington, London, Moscow and all the other capitols of the world, those who would weild absolute power just have taken the logical (for them) decision to engineer humanity. It has been happening at a more and more rapid pace lately, and the evidence of their Frankenstein plan is open to those who can see, those who, like me, were born back in a time when not everyone’s brain had been royally fucked with. But we are a disappearing breed, and this has been accelerated with the cooties outbreak, which was a sleezy cover for mass murder of (first) the older populace, of those who can remember a time before TV.

I can remember such a time. My mother never wanted a TV in the house. She was raised by her mother who said that this type of “entertainment” is a “tool of the devil”. At that time it was the movie theaters. That was the only place where this mind control madness was available.

They say that every advance in technology is led by military interests and advantages. It is certainly true. The “military industrial complex” has led the charge in the war against our brains. When it came down to it, they made their logical conclusion that the ultimate weapon is an altered consciousness and that is when the hacking of the human brain started. But it actually started much earlier than people realize. I have been researching and researching. And that is, I just watch and watch and watch things and then suddenly when enough new neurons have started firing, the connection happens, and something goes click inside and the dots are then suddenly connected.

They did a lot of experiments back in the day where they cut open monkeys brains and human’s brains and they found that people who had had the connecting “corpus callosum” between the left and right sides of the brain severed were easily able to spot lies and liars. They would stand in front of the television set and watch a speech by Richard Nixon and they would begin to laugh uncontrollably at his attempts to deceive the populace at large.

But I digress. What I wanted to cover is how the mechanism of control first started to develop in imagery and then finally sound and vibration, because this will bring everyone up to speed, perhaps not with the level of sophistication of “today’s weaponized human consciousness” but at least to the level of “this is what we know or at least what we think happened.”

It’s perhaps not possible without a great deal of research, a great deal of filtering and measuring, a great deal of sifting through volumes of dusty memorabilia and volumes of information, much of which has been altered, destroyed perhaps, certainly redacted, hidden, re-written and falsified, in order to know the real truth of what happened, but something like a residual image is still there, and would be accessible to the brain of a healthy individual, given “normal” or unaltered, un-tampered with realities… not possible to know where and when it started, but there is still a trail we could follow. We could and should follow that trail and the way is apparent, by reverse engineering, by way of certain evidenciary clues.

We just have to look at things logically. It’s all there, in the movies. It is said that the truth is hidden out in the open. The fact is, Truth is Truth and cannot be hidden. In fact, the Truth is apparent, it is rather “we” who are hiding from “it”. That is the beauty, that is the strength, that is the only hurdle, the real problem. WE are the Truth. But until we are ready to see ourselves as we truly are, we will not be able to see or even seek the Truth.

From what I can glean, being only one person with somewhat limited resources, it starts with imagery. But let’s just let go of the BS scientific method idolatry, shall we? We don’t need the scientific method in order to discover the Truth. What is needed is a strong will to know, a spirit of enquiry, a demand for the REAL. We have a problem. Our problem is religion. Early on I was taught that the very word “religion” can be simply translated as “way of living”. It’s our lifestyle. Our lifestyle is the problem. If we are not able to see the Truth, live in the Truth, it is our lifestyle that has become the hindrance.

Hence, I am saying, in “teaching a man to fish”, we have to give up a little “substance” in order to enjoy a little “knowledge”. There might be a missed meal or two, either figuratively or in fact. We might have to let go of some “creature comforts” and indulgences. But I do not mean this as another attempt at establishing a religion. No. It cannot become a religion. That is putting the cart in front of the horse. The search for Truth has to be integral to the Self. The problem we are having is that our “self” is being manufactured out of existence. We are being engineered into something that is no longer human in the sense that our spirit is being removed from us. We are being shifted, and in the case of the latest debacles and spectacles, we are being quickly shuffled away from that which makes us truly a magnificent creature and creation of the Creator, that is our SPIRIT.

Through the emphasis on the physical concrete “reality” we are becoming inured of the existence of the foundation of all life, that is the Force, the Spirit of Life itself. Life, It becomes a format, what is a format? A format is a form empty of content. That is what life has become in this engineered reality that some are starting to call the Matrix.

This is all seemingly quite abstracted speech. Let us get down to what we are talking about finally. It started, as far as I am concerned here, with imagery. Let’s go ahead and ignore all the things leading up to the presently accepted paradigms, such as the origins of ancient civilizations, the conspiracy “theory” backgrounds of the early and present day churches and powers that would rule the world. I want to leave them out of this for the most part, because that glorifies them, gives them more and more power, by making people feel weak and helpless before the monoliths of inherited earthly power.

No, we have the key in our own hand. It is in every cell of our being, so long as we believe in it. When we are distracted enough not to be able to notice that it is there, then we get into trouble. Actually, I think this is not entirely possible even. Why? Because we are literally made of Truth. We ARE in fact the Truth. We are the Truth manifested. We have forgotten this, we are like the musk deer, running and running and searching for the origin of that maddeningly intoxicating musk scent without realizing that it is indeed emanating from our own naval.

Yes, the human brain is able to be controlled using imagery. I don’t know if everyone has seen this, perhaps many have not seen it. It was found out early on, if during the pre-screening of a major motion picture, a single image of the words “eat popcorn” were to be flashed upon the screen for just a fraction of a second, not long enough to be consciously recognized by anyone, that this information would enter into the brain and subconscious immediately. People would suddenly feel hunger or the urge to indulge their sense of taste and immediately get up and go in search of this food. In this case it was available right in the lobby. The theaters started to make more money.

So, I like to think that we can simply follow the money. Well, that was the mantra of the “deep throat” character in the “Watergate” movie. Perhaps now this is shifting to “follow the pattern of control”. The thing we need to understand now is the depths to which these powers will go to control the humans, whom they regard as literal cattle. So, it is all about the MIND. Who controls the consciousness controls the world.

CONTROL OF THE MIND.
How is it done? At first, it was imagery. In the beginning, there were only the MOTION pictures. Then soon after this there were the TALKIES. Anyone who has thought about this a little bit will come to the conclusion that it is perhaps a bit more or less annoying to have one’s consciousness bombarded with sappy emotional music during the the imaged telling of stories. If we tend to think in a certain type of rational vein and prefer to leave our emotions out of it, to be barraged with swelling orchestras of violins can be certainly annoying.

We don’t like to be “played”. We want to remain sober, neutral, in order to let our minds sort through the information uncontaminated and unburdened with our perhaps considerable accumulated human emotional baggage. So, first there were the pictures, the symbols, the images. And then there came the sound aspect, the vibratory component. And here is where it takes a turn and becomes dangerous.

When I was a child, we didn’t have a television, as I have stated. My father worked for General Electric in our Midwestern town. There was a GE plant, it was spread over I think two pretty massive campuses. I remember a reddish brick, long, low single storied building along a street (I think it was called Brooklyn Ave.) between my house just on the outskirts of the town and the main campus composed of higher, more massive structures where the manufacturing took place of all the toasters, mixers, hair dryers, stoves, radios and televisions.

Ah yes, I had forgotten. There was the radio also. But then, when the images and the sound were combined, the process of manipulation became much more all-enveloping and insidious. Well, when I was very small still, we got our first television set. My mother used to repeat to us what her own mother had known and taught, and that was that this machine, this broadcasting medium posed a danger to our young minds. She simply repeated the anecdote that our grandmother had always denied her progeny access to these things saying that it was “the tool of the devil”.

That is to say, her “religious” views forbade her indulging in movies and theater. Now I become aware, of course, that we have had theater (sound and image) for millennia. Certainly we have, but with the coming of technology it became possible to refine this engineering capability of imagery and sound and practice it upon much broader masses of humanity. The experiments in mind control and manipulation would take on much more overt and targeted tendencies.

As I stated above, I am letting go of this new religion called “science” and I am looking simply at the pattern of dots that have somehow become connected in my little brain, which has somehow retained a bit of juice, remained relatively unscathed all these years.
I am certainly not “cool” or “hip”. No, I’m old now. But it doesn’t change the facts. I started to see a pattern. The first war in my lifetime, that I was able to notice broadly, was the Vietnam war.

Then later on there were other conflicts and wars and I started to see that these were fit in roughly at intervals corresponding to the coming of new generations of young people/young men. In other words, when one generation would come up there would be a war and then another generation would come up (a new crop, a new herd of human cattle) and these young people would be sent off to slaughter. The new generation would not have the memory of what had happened to the previous generation and so would not be wary of what was about to befall them. This may be obvious for anyone over the age of about 40 or 50. But for a twenty something it might not be clearly visible.

So, I am just reporting here what I am seeing. The images and the sound came together and there is an Entity which we refer to in terms of a type of tree. That tree produces a type of material which is known to have been used for millenia as part of a magicians “arsenal” of tools. In fact, that material itself is used to make the main tool of a sorcerer, which is called the “wand”. So, that Entity, having taken the name of the material which produces the main tool of the necromancer, has become the source of this “magic”. And we have all become subject to the illusions produced there. Hollywood.

JUST THE FACTS JACK
I started to say that we were trying to watch a show last night on the “dish” and I couldn’t watch. But the truth is, I could not actually listen. The feeling inside of me was like this “fingernails on the blackboard”. I think I said that above somewhere. I don’t know what influenced me, but my whole life I have avoided television and radio. I grew up with radio. There was always one playing in the kitchen when I would get up for school. “W-O-W-O… Wo-wo”. That was a jingle I always heard. Those were the station’s call letters. They would talk about the farm reports, then play some music, and present news and weather. Jay Gould, a seasoned older gentleman, and Bob… what was his last name I don’t remember. They were a radio duo back in the day. That was in the 60s in the tri-state region of Indiana, Michigan and Ohio. It was farmers and factory workers back then.

When my father won the “Suggestion Box Contest” at GE one year, we got our first television. It was a black and white tube job in a cabinet and was installed immediately as the centerpiece of our living room. I remember that we kids (there were 5 of us left at home) would gather around the set. The older kids sat on chairs and I remember me and my brother sitting on the floor down front. We would watch “Superman and Lois Lane and Jimmy”. That came on I think for half an hour. We were not allowed to watch much more than that. I don’t now remember if it came on more than once during the week. I just remember that our diet of TV was strictly rationed.

Later I would watch Captain Kangaroo with Mr Greenjeans and Bunny Rabbit before going to Kindergarten in the mornings. I was six when I went to school. I remember my mother making me a little dress. The fabric was not really “little girlish”. It was a dark black-blue affair with a little yoke and a gathered type of skirt or pinafore. I think I wore a white blouse underneath. I remember that she brought me to the doors of the school about a mile and a half from our house and took my picture in front of the building and then left me there. Perhaps someone else, a teacher or an aid led me down the long hallway to the other end of the school and down into a basement room where we were all assembled together, all the new kindergartners. My teacher was Mrs Ray. She was a very short woman with smooth and dark coifed hair. I think maybe she wore glasses if I can recall.

As time wore on I began to notice that television was bothersome in a particular way. You could not avoid looking at it if you were in the room and it was on. I didn’t know how others were able to avoid it. Some people would keep it on as a noise in the background and just go about their day. But if it was on anywhere around me I was forced to go up to it and look at it and I would immediately become transfixed. I would be rooted to the spot. I couldn’t escape from it. And that bothered me. First of all, it made me feel guilty. I felt that my time should be put to better use. But it was impossible to ignore it and the taste for it grew with use. In our family the TV gained the epithet “the idiot box”.

Hence, I was addicted and repulsed at one and the same time to and from this monstrous time wasting apparatus. I had no control when it was on. And the onus was on me. I was at fault. It was my responsibility to control this desire to “watch”. (I’m reminded of the gentle moron portrayed by Peter Sellers in “Being There” saying “I like to watch, Eve.”) It had me. I had to do its bidding. And it bade me “watch, watch, watch” and “come back soon for more”. The radio didn’t do that to me. I could turn that off. No problem.

So, I don’t know how it happened, but I think at some point my transient, unstable life just took over and there was no room for TV. I could not carry one around with me. That was not a priority. I don’t know what I did to “entertain” myself. I think I liked music. I liked to dance. I didn’t like the TV, but still there were things that would interest me, like movies. But again, my early training won out. My mother never let us go to the movies. She was tight. There was no money for that. In fact, she was tight with her money generally. I think if she had enjoyed movies herself, perhaps we would have been taken to the theater as children on occasion, but for my part I cannot remember a single instance of this having happened in my entire childhood. It was just too expensive for a family of seven to go the the flicks.

The first movies I saw were when I went out on dates with boys. And one of the first I remember seeing was “Billy Jack”. That was in the seventies, when I was just getting ready to graduate from high school. Or perhaps I had graduated already. I had a boyfriend. I don’t remember his name. He was a really nice fellow, but he was too “beta” for me, I think. Charlie, that’s it. His name was Charlie. he drove a Dodge Charger and he lived with his elderly mother a few miles from my house, in a small bungalow off of Ardmore Ave. He took me to see that film. It was in a theater at the strip mall behind Foster Park, just across the street, catty corner to the lodge building where my father had pushed me up in front of the church members to recite “The Night Before Christmas” when I was four years old.

We started to sit through the movie and it was fight scene after fight scene. It was about this man who was supposedly “American Indian” but I think the part was played by a white actor. And there was a lot of violence. In the middle of the movie I broke down and started crying. My date was astonished and I asked him to take me home. I could not take that much of a heaping helping of blood and gore and cruelty on the screen. Charlie had been busy munching popcorn, but I was hiding my face, tears streaming down, and I was not a sensitive crying type of kid. I just couldn’t watch it. I think that movie was written and shot at the height of the Vietnam anti-war movement.

There were other types of material I could not watch through the years. Certain types of comedy, I will call it, cringe comedy. I could never stomach Benny Hill, and later on I would not be able to enjoy watching Ben Stiller. Just, some types of material would get so under my skin and I would have to stop. I think I still had this feeling that I was forced to watch until the end. It’s like they had some sort of invisible toothpicks holding your eye lids open. You just had to find out what happened at the end. And I don’t know what they were doing to MAKE you watch when you clearly found it painful. But now I can only guess what they were doing.

Through the years I became very involved in different religious movements, and through doing this, I tended to think to myself, and perhaps also encouraged by the religious bent, that perhaps it was not good to listen to music and see media that were preoccupied with sex constantly. And then pop music wasn’t that great all the time either. If a song came on the radio that I thought was insipid, it was easy to just turn it off immediately. I just got used to not listening, not watching, avoiding all that stuff. That was when it became easier for me to just turn it off. But that took literally DECADES to develop that capacity to shut it down before it overtook my consciousness.

At the same time, I have to say I did not develop the propensity for watching news program. And I didn’t like reading the newspaper. I had had a personal experience with newspaper reporting when I was 15. I had been the victim of a hit and run accident that left me in the hospital with broken bones. When I saw the report in the local paper, it was heavily sensationalized. I don’t remember taking note of the fact that no one had asked me or much more interviewed me before printing my name in the paper at that time, but now I am thinking of this. I just didn’t trust newspapers after that. I knew they lied about me in order to sell their papers. Now perhaps I think that I have rhymed this story together about my past in order to explain why it is that I never wanted to read newspapers. I just know that I never trusted the mainstream media MSM. The pure fact of the matter is that when I would read it, it would befuddle my brain. It didn’t make any sense and I think I had that “fingernails on the blackboard” sensation in the middle of my brain. It was like eating something that tastes wretched. I could not do it.

So, last night when I was trying to find something to watch I noticed that I was actually averse to being “entertained” because it just feels like “fingernails on the blackboard” and I am feeling more and more certain that it feels this way BECAUSE it is a process of engineering that is ensuing during the “ingestion” of this material. It is not for my “entertainment” but rather in order to manipulate and perhaps or probably amputate some capacity of my brain, that we are encouraged to watch and “enjoy” such media. We are being literally engineered. And no one has asked us if we wanted that. Of course not, why would anyone take our permission? We are mere human cattle to them.

I mean that we are literally being engineered and parts of our brain are being murdered, amputated, atrophied certainly, and this is a conscious plan of some evil entities. It is a conscious plan and it has been laid out years and years ago. Slavery is the best business model. Remember this. Lip service is given to freedom and “democracy”. We are mere cattle for them. So, I heard something one day. Remember, our brains are marvelous. But the spirit is at the root of the marvel. It is the Spirit in Man (I am consciously not PC here when I say the word ‘man’, as I do not subscribe to the mistaken presently prevalent credo that ‘man’ is at the root of the world’s troubles. When I say ‘man’ I mean it in the Biblical sense, that “male and female, He created them”.) It is the Spirit in Man out of which this marvel, the human brain came. The Spirit is the source, the root of all miracles.

Recently, scrolling through hundreds and hundreds of tiktoks and yt vids my ears pricked up at the words ‘binaural beats’. I had to investigate because someone said that “they” have found out how to reproduce the effects of 20 years of Zen meditation and/or 5 years of TM within a few short months through using certain perhaps “dissonant” tones injected through the ear into the brain. Let’s say in one ear you hear a tone at 440 Hz and in the other ear you hear a tone at 444 Hz. The four Hz difference in tone somehow produces itself in the brain and presents as a “beat” or a rhythmic note of some kind. I am not sure how this works, but it apparently can literally rewire the brain in a short time.

This is somehow quite alarming, because I feel as if I have found out why it is being done. And that I will discuss in a later installment. But here I want to say that there are also monaural beats. In other words, they don’t need to put it in both of your ears at the same time in two different channels through the use of some type of meditation headphones. They can do it through the radio, through any sound equipment. I feel as if there is something, some sound, some vibration, some tone in these films, in these songs, in this media, that is rewiring “man’s” brain, in order to shut out certain feeling elements, certain spiritual elements, which enable a person to think critically, to search with the heart, to feel even through the senses, that this world is wonder and beauty and created by something greater than himself.

In the next installment, I will try to recount how I came to think that the whole point is to turn “man” into a true “machine”, and why this is not desirable at all.