Blueprints of Mind Control Page 3

  CHAPTER NINE

  White Male Identity Crisis

  THE WORD PREJUDICE is not evil. Prejudice chooses a lane in traffic. It puts on two matching socks in the morning and grabs avocado over zucchini at the buffet. Prejudice is our style. It’s the rhythm of our personality. Our prejudice is our identity. Shaming or stifling prejudice leads to self-abandonment. Group mind suppresses the identity. Listening to the group is the same as ignoring yourself.

  Across the nation, we’ve seen crowd-funded street gangs roam our country like rock stars on tour. This tour has been sponsored by the media. Almost every arrest in Charlottesville was from someone out-of-state. This had little to do with a statue. Charlottesville was a venue, another stop on tour for the band of angry villagers.

  American culture has turned identity into a currency. It's worth so much our young people no longer see the value in themselves. The hearts of our youth have quaked with cavities. Each of them craves and fears their own identity. You see evidence of this void in acts of public self-flogging where kids disparage their own culture, gender, race, or proclivity. Another phenomenon is age dysphoria via emotional breakdowns, safe spaces, and timeout zones. Beneath these actions there is a common theme; the blatant attack on the dignity of the self in public. Self-humiliation is an initiation into the cult of abandonment.

  There’s some footage from Charlottesville where the mob was yelling in unison “Black Lives Matter!” and “White Lives Matter!” at each other. Those lyrics may seem different, but the beat is the same. We hear a sea of individuals screaming from the pain of self-abandonment. They want to matter to themselves. They are asking the outside to fix the inside. How we treat ourselves is what should matter. When we stop pandering to identity, identity will lose its currency. In this collapse, the self can re-emerge as captain.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Blood Addiction

  HE SAT UPRIGHT like an emperor in a straight chair made of wood. Each hand rested on each knee like a capstone. His eyes were closed. He was busy exploring. He rotated his focus from behind his eyelids towards the center of his head. He crawled on his belly into the gray folds of his wet brain. Just below eye level, towards the rear of the skull, he located his pituitary. He could almost stand up inside as he turned to face forward. He climbed up a grand gallery into his king’s chamber, the pineal gland. This is the third ventricle - a room above the eyes and just forward of the spine. He moves himself to the very center of the chamber. The energy from his parabolic skull is focused here like a magnifier. He was in the control tower of his endocrine system. From here he can throttle his entire body with adrenaline via the throat, kidneys, and testicles.

  Adrenochrome is a chemical compound produced by the oxidation of adrenaline. Blood addicts extract adrenochrome through torture and blood-letting. The psychological torture produces the chemical in the victim’s bloodstream that when ingested produces a feeling of intense euphoria and power. It becomes highly addictive and bonds the user’s brain receptors to a new threshold. They become an addict. This is what the Aztec were doing with their rituals. In school, they told us sacrifices were performed to help crops grow. The Aztecs were doing it to get high. Not all bloodletting ritual was sacrificial. It was common practice even for children.

  Often, the blood was collected and baked into bread. The heart was considered the most potent. The adrenochrome was most active when the spirit was still alive. Deers, chickens, snakes, and even butterflies were farmed for adrenochrome. It comes from tears, too. The entire body excretes adrenalin. Tlaloc, the god of rain, would ask for the tears of children. Adrenochrome also comes from burning someone alive. The smoke is vaporized adrenochrome. South Korean customs have found thousands of smuggled pills filled with powdered human baby flesh.

  Once a town made its first sacrifice, the ritual turned into a monthly carnival. The fires reached their peaks by the mid 16th century. Historians ignoring adrenochrome will tell you it was the professional witch hunters who were behind all of this. However, the town was getting something out of it, also. They were getting high off the ritual. That ritual brought commerce. Whether they knew it or not, the burning of flesh became the town’s new focus. Townspeople were rewarded with dopamine for ritually murdering one of their own. Next on the stake became a sociopathic chess game of scapegoat versus flying monkey. Towns were ruled by the whims of girls who point their fickle finger. Everyone’s life changed in the birth of demonology.

  In 1555, Near the town of Derneburg, Germany, Gareth Longsack was tending the fields. He was thinking of the most pleasurable moment of his life. It was ten years prior, and Gareth made hay with his new wife, Lillian. He felt her naughty bits against the rickety walls of a new swine cart. The euphoria coursing through Gareth’s bloodstream set a new high in his brain. This was Gareth’s apex moment. His consciousness was the most awaken it had ever been. Those chemicals became Gareth’s north star, and for the next ten years, every other experience was compared to that one. Our minds are built around these north stars. Gareth’s mind had centered on a wholesome, moral moment. His highest ideal was forged in his mind palace with dopamine. When he thought about Lillian, his mind secreted its juices as if to tell Gareth, “yeah, I remember that, too.”

  It was only three months later when Gareth was in town and witnessed his first witch burning. The fumes were intoxicating. Three women were cooked alive while the town chanted away evil. The ceremony was white-washed in the feigned calls of justice. The minister explained they had no choice; the devil must be confronted. The bindings used on the victims would burn off sometimes so men would volunteer to push them back into the flames. This entire experience infiltrated Gareth’s system. He had a new apex moment now. It was coated in a veneer of dissonance and toxic shame. Gareth had entered the ceremony of the checkerboard. He stood by and watched his town murder without hesitation. His complacency was his consent, and his body was drunk on the fumes of steamed blood. His new apex of the mind was the blood sacrifice. Gareth compared every new experience to this one. This event was forever magnified in his mind palace.

  In the field, Gareth’s thoughts no longer went to Lillian. He kept hearing the rumble from that fire. He remembers how bright the moon was that day. He could see every bump. The town was chanting words over the cries of agony and melting skin. He recalled every fizzle in detail. He could not process why justice could feel so tantalizing. Gareth was now under the power of the checker. His black was white now. His white was black. The poles of morality had been severed from their stand and were free to tilt and drift like a toy gyroscope. His chemicals pointed north, while his morality was a free agent.

  Matthew Hopkins, born 1620, was the fourth son of a wealthy Puritan vicar from Suffolk. Matthew Hopkins was a psychopath. In March of 1644, he accused several women of conversing with the devil. His case was convincing enough to win him the title of Witchfinder General. Over the next three years, Matthew would facilitate the execution of 300 more women. All of them interrogated, tortured, and murdered under the rules for witches specified in an early book by King James. Matthew wore the cloak of a jester, half white, half black. He would enter a township announcing his title and proceed to root out evil for a nominal fee. He turned towns into savage ritual carnivals. He became an adrenaline pusher. He was a psychotic alchemist.

  To cleanse a town of evil, Hopkins would first insert it. He was the master of the psyop. The village of Mannington was his first false flag. He claimed a group of women was overheard speaking directly with the devil. When he confronted them, they naturally denied it. Hopkins proceeded to show the town how every answer they gave was precisely what the devil would say to be deceptive.

  Adrenochrome works like any other drug. Mr. Hopkins was a drug dealer. Gareth Longsack was a user.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Gulf of Tonkin

  MY BIOLOGICAL FATHER lost his leg and his mind after the Vietnam War. He was a Marine who gave his life so a country could live a lie. He was rewarded for
going along with the dissonance. PTSD is a function of witnessing unresolvable trauma. He was told we were the good guys while being they were the bad guys. He felt justified in his violence. He had surrendered his decisions and trusted his orders and his country. My father did everything they told him. He died alone because of a lie.

  The Gulf of Tonkin incident was a series of skirmishes involving the USS Maddox. American media were told to report that the Vietnamese were firing on American ships. It was presented as a series of unprovoked attacks. If you look on the map at the Gulf of Tonkin, you can see the truth of what happened. Imagine a foreign battleship patrolling the Gulf of Mexico and opening fire along the shores of Tampa or New Orleans. That’s what we did in Vietnam.

  My parents’ generation accepted a war based on the threat of three speedboats. It cemented blind trust from the people to the government. When you have a trauma bond the moral decisions of the victim are delegated to the perpetrator. The soldier relinquishes his moral authority over to a chain of command. This is the severing of the intuition to accommodate the larger organism. This is the shifting of the poles. The checkerboard personality is a side-effect of mental mitosis. The mind is peeled and splintered into what is required to survive. You break a mind in the same way you break a collective. Divide-and-conquer.

  You can swallow this red pill now or wait for the suppository.

  We are in the first miles of our Great Awakening. We need to talk about these truths and show each other compassion. We are removing the electric plug from our spines. We will all awaken with trauma. Some are not quite ready to see it. Your awakening will be met with resistance and ridicule. You are going to be called crazy for what you are saying. You may lose your temper and start to attack someone with your words. You feel justified because you know people’s lives are in danger. You can’t force this. You have to find compassion for the self you see inside them. These people aren’t stupid, they are victims, too.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  My First Alien

  LAST NIGHT I had dinner with an optical engineer who was explaining the merits of molecular tweezers. He was strumming on about lasers and spectronomy, so I asked him a serious question about humanoid cloning. He mocked, “that’s a little too tinfoil hat” at the topic. The table laughed with the engineer, and I found myself muted once again by the flypaper of conspiracy. Undeterred, and somewhat autistic, I stopped the table of men to explain just how crazy I was about cloning. This is a rough transcript.

  As a child, I heard the military industrial complex was fifty years ahead of the market. I remember a lab in England cloned Dolly the sheep twelve years ago. I know we splice and move genes in academia. I know in fifty years, we will clone a biological servant. I know we can predict how it might function and what it might look like. For example, we’d give it thumbs and fingers to be handy. We’d leave off fingernails, the sex organs, hair, or even a belly button to keep it simple. We could avoid the stomach and intestines altogether and recharge the unit through photosynthetic skin receptors like a house plant. We’d want its brain to be low calorie and predictive. We keep it simple. We could drop the outer mammalian lobes of reason and emotion. Let’s just keep the reptilian parts, the triune brain. We can rig it to work by remote control. We’ll need a big head to fit the antenna. After some prototypes, we would have a rechargeable, biological robot that’s docile and cost-effective. We would marvel at our pet snake with elbows and kneecaps. We could present it to the planet. They would hang on its every word like it was a Messiah. They would call our creature evolved and ascended. Its first word would start a new religion.

  I stopped talking abruptly. The table begged itself for a proper reaction. Someone put ice cubes in their mouth. I looked at the engineer to prove me crazy. Our table paused for his answer. The mind control fell out of his face hole and into his plate of nachos, “The cost. It. It would be unimaginable. The amount of time… Ridiculous.” The table exhaled in unison of agreement. The intelligent engineer changed the subject, “Did you know those little L.E.D. pens aren’t technically lasers?” Someone answered, “Oooo. Really?” The tour bus of dinner conversation drove off without me.

  Modern America is in a multi-layered state of mind control. That evening I felt trapped inside an aquarium listening to a goldfish tell each other shark stories. I was surrounded by guppies who needed a castle to keep them busy. Every fish in the tank pretends this is the real ocean. I was staring through the glass, wondering why I can’t swim right through.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  American Racism

  AMERICAN RACISM IS an assault on prejudice. The weapon used against it is shame. You know the assault is working by how much you clench up when you hear the word, “prejudice.” There is a strategy creating a demilitarized zone around the word. Prejudice is the freedom to pursue ourselves uninhibited. This word is the very definition of our identity. Our prejudice blazes a trail through all of our decisions. This trail is our signature as individuals. Prejudice is the enemy of mind control. Mind control works when we no longer trust our own choices. American racism turns prejudice into a taboo.

  Love is the highest expression of prejudice.

  The trauma bond is a phenomenon where codependency develops during a witness of trauma. Trauma can be physical or psychological; occur instantly, or repetitively. American racism is a trauma-bond built on dissonance. It's a bond of tiny lies we tell each to gain access. One declares themselves racist to the hive. This is the shame sacrifice. The colony accepts the offering under the currency of admiration. The ritual is repeated over-and-over in public. We are shame-bonding with the hive by branding ourselves with scarlet letters.

  American racism is manufactured. People freak when you say racism is a myth here in America. But travel abroad and see the real meaning to the word. You notice that racism does not whisper in the corner. Racism doesn't hide in a holster.

  Real racism is brash. It’s certainly not subtle. The parliament in South Africa where they call for the hunt of the white boere is real racism. Real racism is anti-discretion. It's intolerance out in the open. What we in America think is racism is the work of black magicians redefining the meaning of the word prejudice.

  Racial slurs are distancing functions. These are natural defenses in any species. Like a dog showing you its teeth, a racial slur is a response to a threat. In fear, the mind creates distance between the self and the threat. The ego builds a chasm as an emotional defense. This is an act of distancing.

  Racial violence in America is mythology. Today’s racist is the person in the room least worried about being called a racist. Does the white cis male truly benefit from racism in America? Are they actually in the role of the golden child? If you understand the psychology of the scapegoat, you will remember the scapegoat's feelings are neither entertained or comprehended. The scapegoat is not allowed an audience to express his position. Who is the golden child in America? The answer is the victim. Victims are the golden child in the land of the psychotic, and this is how you manufacture weakness. The system praises the victim while never bothering to fix it.

  America is a jungle of lies and manipulations. Predators use deception to trap you — some feed on your money, others on your compassion. Your will, attention, love, and hate are all commodities to the social cannibal. You’re innocence and gullibility is prime fuel for their fires. Understand American racism is vampirism. It turns a person into a victim and places them on a pedestal. We lose all dignity on a pedestal.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Anatomy of Satanism in Hollywood

  I MUST ADMIT I did not see this coming. Lately, Hollywood has been burning, and Satanists are running out from the flames with their arms, and pants, on fire. It appears that most of them are pedophiles and they are offended that anyone dares to critique them. When I see this happening, I struggle for the will to run for a bucket of water. I am not sure if a rescue would be moral or even sympathetic. I had to invest some time looking into the anatomy of satani
sm.

  Satanists wear tennis shoes, do yoga and have children. They hold jobs; they get fired, they adopt children and animals. They have ethics, follow a code, and will pick up garbage instead of complaining about it. It is spiritual psychology for a large group of people. The modern-day satanist is a practitioner of will. At its core, satanism is founded on the principal of Thelema. Love is the Law, Love under Will.

  A satanist calls on will through ritual. The satanic circle is a living theater for casting. The director builds a scene with props and acts out a fantasy. The fantasy is the will window-shopping. The success of the ritual is determined by the live performance of the director. Once the curtain rises, the show must go on. A Satanist takes this ritual very seriously. Their magical life depends on it. The satanic ritual produces results. If it did not, there would be no Hollywood.

  As above so below is a principle of music. Plucking a string produces a tone. Halving the string will give you it’s next octave. When two octaves are played together, a third octave is created through resonance. This is the harmonic principle and it is a fundamental of nature. A satanic ritual is the playing of two tones to produce the third sympathetically. The first tone is played in the mind of the magician. The second tone is played in the ritual circle. The third tone is manifested in the real world through resonance. As above, so below. The perfection of the mind and the stage determines the quality of the third tone.