Only in the interest of funding extended exclusively to young generations representing the current world’s owners.
In spite of the economic landscape, as steeped as it is in the denial of opportunity.
Does sex make the man.
==
To explain further: https://anewgnosis.com/2022/01/12/the-conversation-that-makes-the-satanist/ Further information available after the under 3 page post. About seven total pages.
Only in the interest of funding extended exclusively to young generations representing the current world’s owners.
In spite of the economic landscape, as steeped as it is in the denial of opportunity.
Is how mass becomes matter the only question physics must answer.
==
To explain further: https://anewgnosis.com/2021/08/25/the-problem-of-negatives-physics-and-management-systems/
Only in the interest of funding extended exclusively to young generations representing the current world’s owners.
In spite of the economic landscape, as steeped as it is in the denial of opportunity.
Is a valuation standard required for currency.
==
To explain further: https://anewgnosis.com/2021/04/02/how-nations-fall/ (Whole twentysomething page report on the problems of currency valuation after the poem there.)
Only in the interest of funding extended exclusively to young generations representing the current world’s owners.
In spite of the economic landscape, as steeped as it is in the denial of opportunity.
Are vaccines required in the immunological response.
Only in the interest of funding extended exclusively to young generations representing the current world’s owners.
In spite of the economic landscape, as steeped as it is in the denial of opportunity.
Is carbon dioxide the poisonous gas in our atmosphere.
Only in the interest of funding extended exclusively to young generations representing the current world’s owners.
In spite of the economic landscape, as steeped as it is in the denial of opportunity.
Is fat considered healthy.
About 7 total pages. Section is from the opening of the second part of the conceptual presentation / novel called [White Elephant Sale]. It used to be available here, but pdf issues and translations from Word ’10 to the latest Word have not gone well, so far. To provide context, this piece begins with a small bit from the opening of the first project. This is all just formatted as a blog post. Enjoy.
Statement of Warning T
Knowledge of the unified field in the hands of people who account for gravity, sentience, and the intent of sentience without classifying the behavior of sentience as right or wrong compels us to this work. Following text is an unflinching account of people struggling to define:
What exactly is going on; who is in control?
How far have the ones in charge gone with Physics?
What are their plans? And,
What can be done about it?
It is unfit for all ages, making direct display of how bad things literally could be while developing a narrative to provide a composited “big picture” appraisal that, fitting the tone, must be covertly communicated and shared exclusively among concerned parties. Asking to know what impact these full implications, the facts beyond measure have, and expecting to be taken by the hand and coddled into understanding is a delusion readers must abandon.
With steadfast refusal to assess the nature and scope of the problem – what with everyone citing needs of personal lives and their interests – we have arrived here, the untenable position.
(Decuun is pronounced Dee – Koon) -Start of [white elephant sale]2y
Decuun Processing Conduit Readout
Type: Neurological Display
Class: Intelligent by Design
Images & Libelous Content :
All visual signal through brown to umber fields first develops children at playground – and at fault biologically proven in signal – children somehow hidden in darkness, in crawling positions, sudden picture infant [not naked].
Then boys and girls old enough and tall enough to ride the public park merry-go-round, trapped on hands and knees under its spinning metal platform, moving fast enough to move the dark air above them, shadow air swirling across the backs of children moving close to ground, somehow ducking in crawl, inching under the veracity of the increasing speeding spin of the metal ceiling, in deep black without light, sudden picture of a tower overtaking the horizon (rectangle monolith – more grey than black).
Boys and girls ducking under moving air in darkness over them, air moving hidden in dark particle light, falling and turning under the metal spinning merry-go-round ceiling [ideal of monstrosity] unseen children in low crawl moving toward where the ride is fixed to the Earth. To maybe find silence in its noise and violent sun-drenched metal spinning above, providing its own source of heat, showering in waves down on the backs of boy and girl heads, sudden addition of enough light to make them out, sudden image of bright heating orange overtaking metal walls through tempered glass.
Prognosis: Pathways tapped were aligned more to biochemical activity than the neurological drivers biological current can source. Subject not parent, has had less than ten relationships in their life, and is clearly set in the mode of tasking their own brains with matters with which they have no responsible concern.
Case Closed and Archived: *-
Processing Conduit Readouts – The voice within the masses that corporations and constitutionally elected governments have every right to serve is now heard. Brought to you by Decuun.
==
Statement of Warning Q
The directing and assembling of all people into one lived amalgam of the subject and servant class no matter the integrity of the individual, using unseen, unconscious and subconscious forces, to the end of making the owners of the systems of governance godlike lords among peasants is treason.
Decuun Processing Conduit Readout
Type: Integrated Cognitive and Physical Display
Class: Intelligent by Design
Images & Libelous Content :
Visual signal develops to one internal visage rendered in fragments of focus; looking downward to the right to a phone screen, ghostly white light pales her forearm at the wrist, suddenly against the backdrop of nighttime car interior [superimposed glow of alone].
She awakes hours later.
Peripherals recorded in signal reflected through plaster surfacing off the sheet metal framing of the entrance to the dining hall:
She is in sweats without makeup [inattentive but reminiscent of bed] she nearly shuffles her feet as she crosses the open room and she looks up in glances to where windows meet high ceilings (abiding underserved aspirations and unsustainable goals).
Prognosis: Subject is on the other side of years spent missing social cues that are only conveyed with nonverbal communications. Their life will be lived in a coed world with no valid identification to their sex other than their bodies.
Case Closed and Archived: +”
==
1(4) Catastrophic Exposure
Billable conclusions precipitate organizational fronts, the self-cutting population is somehow needed to offset the public’s release of commercial demons – always travelling in secret in sheets of an inner skin through the listener and assimilating the viewer with certainty – or treasuries are allocated to budget only after they accord to Decuun bylaws, that grant fifty percent of what is taken in by congressional graft to every constitutionally elected official, that is to be paid out over the course of their careers in service – good morning, I knew you whispers empty head sex slave – only after the legislative proceeds from each bill make it into a general slush fund – you should have switched her into compulsory, Sir – no one gets their hands dirty – now someone is going to pay for that and no one gets their hands dirty.
It’s best you vacate the premises, Sir.
My country in thin fabric suits of the finest wool – flanked by rail thin cohorts of sexual drive – move policy in pants – because where a bill starts is sacred – after all, the blood spills – children ought to learn that early and constrict with the trends – not against them – in rotundas and under domes – with 5000-dollar shoes on marble.
Inside the rot of teeth my country tis of thee for whom – for them, fortified with intelligence – for one hundred forty royal-sanctioned landowners packed into a barn to begin a new measured promise – Lucifer and Satan in congress in silver with gold running in strands through its artifice – in late 18th century candle and torch light, in romance with the new and upcoming iron; that advanced – but it was the birth of a country, uniting in quiet torrid modalities the u and the s, united for the Arian sanguine.
Bavaria is their front. Their lords of darkness churning black death rotting with special interest so long it carbonized flesh, stretching endless between what seem like invisible columns spinning in place, through its own world, apart from the haunted corridor dominance by the US of the Arian for the states united to detriment, forced Bavarian dependence for all time – voice of a civilization turn on the ovens – and its sexy grueling death scenes, a dark room lit by one bulb whose girls naked tortured beg and scream into thick shadow to men off camera – the onyx bones through the Earth Bavarian infrastructure – the sounds of gunshot – for all age – world concealing the invisible spools stretching rotting fields of putrid flesh taut in torture, twisted from skeletons in one complete tear, one brutal turn somehow comported their awareness with the flesh of their bodies absent structure into terrifying strewn-out anguish.
They were people but they’re empty demons now gone. There would come to be fifty states, what with five meaning death and every zero a way in – Decuun archival system decoded – United States of America forces separate the skin from the internal content. White American backbone isolated the agency of performance in the citizen’s solid jelly filling and arranged it, now foreign hands maneuver.
Spontaneous needs to augment per case will be constant, and language inherent in legislative process prohibits open target civilian. It will forever boil down to seasons in session.
Vision is of the eyes – but through a secret method strewn – because of two fingers on the five-year old’s head – noted – sight retards outward in thin plasma strings, white cornea and strands of vibrant blue iris threads through the broken surface of the black pupil, pushing miniscule deep night columns invisibly outward into air – pupil surfaces break in protrusions – physical and unknown to common man – sight travels its own corridors – through the interiors of dark town-cars – arriving at plain house brothels – blame it on the navigation – we brought the chip manufacturing home – praise in lingerie.
Chaos demands form, form informs chaos structured into prefabrications, amassed of all substance – en toto – nothing primordial, everything beyond comprehension sustaining the limited view. Group has decoded a cryptex inside the Nova Express trilogy by William S. Burroughs. Agreed upon in silence, a type of quiet built from moments of misplaced awe, nothing of true magnitude, what the crowd deems appropriate, standing out is lonely. Group recognizes low likelihood the codes will be believed. Submitting that man is forced into a collective that interprets each person at three constructed levels of a forced-upon psyche, both Williams and Burroughs technically did not have to know they were writing a code – it would serve as evidence for what Group leaders have called the Eternal promise. Outside in a hurricane, built forth from torrential upheavals quieted to physicality, the constant demand to be engaged marginalized like a young green leaf freshly ripped from a tree battered into rocks of the tide break, every calculation articulates the plea, the broken, prostrated beg,
“Please, leave us the bay.”
“Your invitation, please”
Inside the reception hall everyone’s pockets are empty, and in the coat check, all the pockets empty, except for tips to the valet, controlled convulsions on display, their every motion, every interest, the donned importance inside their laughter, and uneasiness in each hand extended to prospective partners. As the Burroughs code is completely presented at its conclusion in the third book of the trilogy, The Ticket that Exploded, only portions of this section of the code will be communicated. Worn down corridors of flesh throughways inside arms, carrying electric signals of such duration the toll of repetitive usage dries out the fibers, what an easy smile, what a somber jest, give me reason, commission a newborn’s purpose. Burroughs makes it clear the reader should note commas in sections throughout the work, by writing several lines one after another that clearly omit commas. A coordination of focal, directed bodily seizures accounts for all this, it is the world of the distinguished, in these everyone’s included but not invited, creating the separations, the unacknowledged chasms of difficult to reconcile shortcomings in the chests of the unacknowledged, breaking men to wails upon their gale force dismissal.
It’s not easily noticed, whole being accommodated to subroutines of conformity, lost to its application spread throughout the crowd, each awaits their contribution’s recognition, it’s as easily ignored as a raging ocean twenty feet from double-paned glass. Before continuing, background on the source of the code is assumed to be that of an outcast scion who descended from the relative wealth of the Burroughs typewriter company. As no confirmation of this can be found and it is customary to fabricate the upbringings of people who bring creative content to market, no further comment on his upbringing is needed. Hits like low grumbling echoes of windows forced to reverberate, the pressure braced and dispersed through glass, those waves carry wind to the edifices, these guests, too loud to hear the portend, this wind and all its concerted effort carries water toward the hushed, mumbling attendants, the toast about to begin.
“We didn’t work long for this, but we worked hard.”
Tears well among the throng of well-dressed sycophants shifting in their gowns, women adorn the brightest shining men, stepping boldly with hollow legs, top heavy, brain heavy, secretly affirming self-worth through exchanged nods and glares. As having access to the market at the levels Burroughs achieved secretly always ties back to Satanism and, as it is recognized that involvement in Satanism is not chosen in those who are born into it – it is not chosen by most of the talent the industry discovers – as much as it is forced, many sections of the Burroughs code would seem to indicate that he secretly harbors hopes that someone or some force outside the machine of Satansist-owned commerce is actively intervening on the behalf of general decency. Chills sink into the space each body occupies, sliding into them, entering through gaps between their cells, outside storm temperatures coming to ground in elongated forms of low-pressure cold air nestling into their spines. Decuun marches on and there is no evidence that Burroughs’ pleas for aid, if that’s what they were, have ever been heeded.
Worth is measured quarterly in every hollow individual, only made whole through common definition, solid forms built solely through passive concord, unspoken agreements pushing poses and encouraging wind tunnels overtake their optic nerves. Following the code established by omitted commas, on page ten is the line “You attempted to be God that is to intervene and failed utterly . . .” italicized word in the original. The sky isn’t hiding stars. Nazis are known to spread the belief that the Arian man is God, taking this with the nihilism common to soldiers in Nazi ranks – which foreign intelligence previously assigned as meeting internal needs to psychologically place the horrors they were expected to commit – it is likely Nazi science itself has at its main tenet, that because all of physics is manipulated to the Arian’s favor, the Nazi scientist can make man God. They’re swallowed in the light the guests have acclimated to, with its invisible ceiling blending into opaque atmosphere, unseen blackness hovering intermingled in cloud.
Unheard raindrops ping on an atrium ceiling, underneath it all, the scene and its attendants forced into their custom compartments, the shell game, hope you find a filled-out suit instead of a solid specter, hope there’s warmth in shared proximity. Nazism has been proven to be a cover. Its leadership are Satanists and from their view, Nazism itself (was) a sex and death cult. Not this nagging sense you’re riding atop a rushing current, clinging for dear life through violent rapids, need to keep smiling, complimenting accessory choices, want the position furthest from the windows, if you’re too close their deep growl is guttural, physical, and it detracts from the toastmaster. The Burroughs code would suggest that Nazis were then and have always been Satanists in reserve, existing as an intra-dimensional para military force. In total sense, in absolutes realized in the throes of death, all storms are orchestrated by the continent-sized eye of a perpetual hurricane at the earth’s pole, perchance to glimpse the monstrosity upon your release, the hidden hope something will welcome you upon exit.
Universal head chieftain adjures over oval offices and their minions, clawing at blazers to expose silk lining, but only in dreams because it doesn’t fit the decorum, the phantom cardboard partitions dictating behavior, making the enforced silence palatable, the professional diligent acceptance. Para military as operating under contained skies filled with stolen atmosphere, unseen and seventy-two degrees at all times, air conditioned, clouds stolen for their hydrogen and oxygen, to make realms where pretty blonde boys all grown up can play with machines to intra-dimensional affect. Practicing submission and glorifying ascendancy, pretending to listen while waiting for the current patron’s arrival, the real head of the line, the bonafide feedbag attendant. Intra dimensional means through dimensions, inter dimensional means two or more separate dimensions that may interact; it does not mean they do.
Two rooms, one on Earth we could all walk into, one in its own dimension; we say inter dimensional to account for the two positions. Where the schedules are made, out of more circular offices, the one storm’s eye swirling the ground of all air, hoping enough gets stolen from lungs, plotting enough cause for decay so newer, less substantial and ever subservient eyes build. If the word intra-dimensional is used, it indicates dynamics as they are arranged in one dimension are pushing in some way into another dimension – because the two dimensions are linked to impact one another. Electric ghosts project through flesh as they substantiate gradually over every interface with any multimedia device, through silent signals riding soft static, form informs chaos fallen into place along nerves embedded in flesh, see the glowing electric blue washed into a faint white medium leaning out of the torsos of every citizen.
The living ghosts, it’s more than metaphor, it’s the applied mechanics of an unknown science, it is calculated metaphysics accomplished for far more than monetary profit. An interpretation lending itself to a global view of how a life in Satanism is lived, is found in the Burroughs code by following exclusively the italicized words on pages leading up to page ten: bottom of page 8 repeated, “This is a weapon . . an enemy weapon”; on page nine, again, only words in italics on the whole page and clearly befitting the context, esprit de corps, which is taken to mean comradery, on page ten, first words in italics are non-organization, and the next italicized word on that page is intervene. Keep them corralled, force their smiles, time, order, file their protracted death, prognosticate on how much the ruling class can earn in the duration, bet the futures market, amortize interest on the loans people secured to secure their graves.
[“First pages-addenda”] %-
DoWn By ThE sHoReS oF tHe ShAnKy BaNkY
wHeRe ThE bUlLfRoGs JuMp FrOm AcHe To LaNkY
SiNgInG:
Sprinkle Shakedown
Ha, you thought you’d get me- Heh-heh, you thought you’d get me
Your overcoats and badges don’t make you monsters
You can’t push me. I won’t move.
===
Bibliographies: Williams, William Carlos. The Embodiment of Knowledge. New York: New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1974. Print.
Burroughs, S. William. The Ticket that Exploded. New York: Grove Press, 1992. Print.
(About five pages. Writing on economics aligned to the “Materials in Support of Count 2”, available at end of post here: http://anewgnosis.com/2021/04/02/how-nations-fall/ )
If ever an agenda justified the Nazis forming in the first place it was, in fact, their unwillingness to accept a fractional reserve valuation model for their currency. The Nazis listed as part of their cause to rise in power their banking system, that was then run by the Reichsbank, the central bank of Germany. Incidentally, the model set forth by this banking system was followed in the formation of the Federal Reserve, meaning the problem with this type of banking had already begun in the US, at least two decades before WW2 began.
WW1 decimated the economy of Germany, and by the reserve valuation standard the German Reichsmark was rendered worthless. Germany had to pay, and they did in how pre-existing trade relations dictated that their currency, whose value represented the total national balances and deficits it carried with its trade partners set against a reserve amount, would have to lose value in order to fiscally compensate their European neighbors – that’s the macroeconomics of it in a nutshell, the short story is that it meant wheelbarrows full of paper currency were needed if you were in Germany after World War 1, and you wanted to buy basic grocery items using the German mark.
For historical context, in the United States a few banks wrote the Federal Reserve Act of 1913 and ever since this country has seen its infrastructure taken apart, the same thing happened in Germany and it wasn’t because of the first world war. The war had its result, but the problems inherent in fractional reserve valuation provided their own cause for why that result fiscally destroyed the country.
Wars are fought by a country’s leaders who command their country’s defenses, and the losers pay, but to say that because the printing and worth of your nation’s currency is run by a central bank bound to a fractional reserve model, not a single person in your country can afford bread for who knows how long, is a scam. Recognizing that it was indeed the financial system itself to blame for Germany’s post World War One economy, among other populist movements, was the Nazis, which grew out of the German worker’s party. Before moving on, to make this point clear:
PROBLEMS IN FRACTIONAL RESERVE VALUATION / MACROECONOMICS 101
Two rectangles on a white board, each has a slash running vertically through it, and about one third of each rectangle is to the right of the slashes. The two rectangles represent two different nation’s currencies and the nations are in a trade relationship. Let’s say the left rectangle represents the US dollar and the right the Chinese Yuan. By theory, everything China produces for national trade only has real value in China’s own currency, and the same is said for anything produced by the US, so the area to the right of the slash of both rectangles is called the “reserve” of the currency.
China’s Yuan has an “inherent value” that is stated in the total worth of its national product. The US dollar has the same thing; the currencies are worth their nation’s product and at the same time, the currencies define worth for anything traded, so a marker called “reserve” is applied to the idea of China’s currency from the US perspective, and in a trade relationship China applies the same idea to US currency. This means that when it comes time to balance the books between the nations, some of the currency used to pay one another back only has value in terms of the total trade balance, and the currency itself only has value because national product is available to be traded in the first place.
-To make that work you put two hypothetical rectangles on the board, and put a slash through both. Now, the US can only trade with what is valued at the worth of its own dollar, so the reserve section of the fictional dollar cannot be used to balance trade discrepancies; it has to be set apart or else nothing the US trades on has any value in its own land (by the theory), therefore, the “rest” of the fictional dollar on the board can be used to pay back China when the US comes up short on the trade sheet – the reserve part cannot.
So, if the US is running at a deficit in its trade with China, each US dollar then pays back less of the total debt, and once the US is in too much physical debt to China, eventually China will decide it must move the reserve line on the US currency, and here’s why:
Let’s say a trade partner has a valuable product from its nation, valuable as measured in its currency, and valuable enough for others to want to trade for it, so trade relationships begin, and for anyone always on the losing side of total product traded (total value of product traded), eventually the value of their currency will have to decrease, while the value of the currency belonging to the partner in the stronger trading position will have to increase, or else the currency used by the position with the stronger product will lose value in other trade relationships.
-Given the basic macroeconomics on fractional reserve valuation, the US will never pay China back, and by treaties bound to the fractional reserve paradigm, China will begin to more and more valuate its currency according to its trade relations with Russia, India, Brazil, and Singapore (BRICS) – it will be their only choice – or else the value of the Yuan will collapse (the US is too big a trading partner and its debt too massive). BRICS applies to China just as much as NAFTA applied to the US. Because of what NAFTA (the North American Free Trade Agreement) became, the US will only have a dollar worth anything if its worth is valuated against the national products of Mexico and Canada, and this is by treaty; BRICS for China and for the US it’s the USMCA (US, Mexico, Canada) treaty signed by Trump, that is widely considered nothing more than a rebranding and narrowing of the trade arrangements that began with NAFTA. (Bill Clinton signed the US into NAFTA in the 90s and Trump signed its update; the value of the dollar is not a partisan issue – neither side is doing anything about it.)
FRACTIONAL RESERVE VALUATION IS FOR THE ROYALTY
The Bank of International Settlements is in Switzerland, and it operates as the clearing house for fractional reserve valuated currencies, ostensibly navigating how muddy the process is to applying the basic two rectangles idea explained earlier to every national trade relationship, stabilizing the process of determining how the worth of national currencies must change with respect to one another regularly. This means that when it comes to the currency everyone on the planet depends on (whatever is in your hand), its value is susceptible to decrease or increase according to the networking mathematical equations that measure total international trade – people even make money off the idea that money can lose value against other types of money – but it all comes down to the notion that the total product traded by a country must have a value, and that value is determined by what each trading partner can bring to the table.
It’s a convenient strategy for the royalty of the world, who in this day of modern rule through corporatism exclusively reserves for their class market swaying, high-up positions in global corporate conglomerates; real in the blood royalty has been reported to be in place at You Tube, at Google, at Pepsi, and at Royal Shell Oil Co, which is actually owned by the House of Orange, who are Dutch royalty. But royalty set up the world’s current corporatist stage over 80 years ago, working largely as the secret hand maneuvering intelligence operations – back to post WW1 Germany:
When you have any cause in place, a movement can easily be structured, with a few knowing agents who are working off of a pre-existing agenda. The agenda was to eventually create a corporatist state with global reach, and the movement to be used at the time was Nazism, which needed funding if it was to amount to anything. There was a mountain of corporate support at the time, in part because Nazism picked up eugenics as a founding ideal. The people bankrolling the Nazis were corporatists, they were the heads of industry in Europe and the US and among other things they liked the idea of breeding people to superiority, so a large part of their funding actually came with the understanding that they would at least lean toward becoming the genocidal maniacs the Nazis turned out to be.
Once Hitler was in power he installed Walther Funk as the Reichminister of Economics, and then the secret corporatist interest working on behalf of the Aristocracy, put him at the head of the Bank of International Settlements (BIS), in a design to appease Hitler. (You can check wikipedia here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walther_Funk – the guy is listed to have held the office at the top of the BIS from April of 1938 to March of 1939, and WW2 was from 1939-1945.) The Nazi regime had started a new currency for Germany, and with their man at the head of the BIS, the idea was packaged as if it would work but of course, it didn’t.
The BIS was needed by its largest client, the US Federal Reserve, to negotiate settlements in the trade relations that indicated the dollar’s value at the time (as well as the value of any other currency traded under BIS rules), and WW2 ensued. NAFTA governed what world markets became after the cold war ended, then the BIS brokered the establishment of the EU, which was always the plan of the nascent global corporatist state that backed the Nazis – Walther Funk was even said to be the person who committed to paper the EEC (the European Economic Community), and no matter who wrote it from the standpoint of history, the EEC was to the developing European Union what NAFTA was to the failing US economy – it failed in its predetermined direction, in a way that required NAFTA to become the USMCA.
IT WAS ALL A SET UP
In fact, the above rundown on macroeconomics doesn’t tell the whole story. The way it worked out, all of the world’s industrialized nations decided to make the US dollar their “universal” reserve currency, mainly because of the US’ position in post World War Two finance, and the gold backing the dollar. Shortly after this, as if the move was ordered by the BIS itself the US Federal Reserve removed gold backing from its currency, creating what eventually became the fractional reserve scenario explained above, but applied differently; according to how treaties, like NAFTA or BRICS, made certain international trade relationships more economically prudent than others, and at the same time, every nation valuated their county’s currency against a reserve they each held on the US dollar.
The US dollar is still used as the world’s “reserve”, but if you put that into practice, the entire ploy is a negotiating tactic used for global fiscal management, where every other nation on the planet that isn’t the United States, in their trade relationships, will be able to steer the fiscal infrastructure of the US to collapse indirectly over a few generations, through how the fractional reserve valuation of currency model the world has agreed to, has subjected people to their currency buying less or more than it did yesterday, at any given time, as a planetary standard.
When you’re talking value of the dollar, fractional reserve valuations, and the infrastructure, let’s say a public project for new roads gets approved and funded at 5 billion, but due to on the ground issues with contractor logistics, the project doesn’t start until two years after its approval. If the dollar lost value in those two years and the project hasn’t started, the same project is liable to cost 5.1 or 5.2 billion, which is one or two hundred million dollars more – where’s the new money coming from?
-So, apply that to all the nations that have regularly been on the losing side of key trade relations for long enough, and the result is a planet of countries with collapsing infrastructures, leaving only the elite, who at the top are living aristocracy, to buy everything they can own regardless of public concern or welfare. It becomes apparent when you see the entire world dividing into economic regions before your eyes, then you realize, this is exactly what their global takeover plan has been along, and it was far more involved with world finance and market controls than anyone, who weren’t the elite financiers, expected.
Nazism in WW2 was a populist movement put into place by intelligence services loyal to Aristocracy alone. The problems with the national economy post WW1 got enough people on board, and once the movement started it had to be somewhat appeased to keep the agenda going until the goal was reached, so the BIS move involving the Nazi Reichminister of Economics was allowed, as was every evil act that got rolled into the imperialist, genocidal war front the Nazis became.
The agenda targeting an entire religion’s people for eventual slaughter grew by the same royal-backed intelligence operations work, but in factions that existed only to foment a movement among targeted special interests that identified with the term “Nazi” for their own reasons all along, and that’s where real Nazi esoterica begins.
THE UNFORGIVABLE NAZI – THE REASON FOR THE HOLOCAUST
This brand of Nazi is a Satanist. They take their name proudly from the word “Ashkenazim”, meaning the Jewish people of the Germanic regions, because they sell that Nazis date back to a tribe imbedded within Judaism, whose sole purpose is to destroy the Jewish people.
On the surface the story works, but it’s used for lower ranks. The real reason is to create a derogatory term out of the word used for people who were targeted in the holocaust (who weren’t only Jews, but they were by far the most targeted), because it is needed as a foundational Satanic hex; in English the letter “j” is pronounced as the English letter “y” in several languages. Satan is followed as the owner of the planet, so if some of “Satan’s” people pronounce the English letter “j” as a y, then Satanists can make the word “Jew” become the word “you” for the purposes of targeting potential problems in a hex.
People were slaughtered in the millions because by their religion a member is called a three letter word, a “Jew” and, when the letter j in the word is replaced with a “y”, it sounds like the word “you”. So any one person can then become the “you” targeted by their agenda, if the name or term used to reference the targeted person gets replaced with the word “Jew”. This is why the Nazis are always claiming they are mad at the Jews; it’s them fueling an ongoing Satanic hex – it was never meant to only denote the vehement hatred of a people because of their religion – all that’s for the entertainment of the stupid but useful inbreeds who populate the real numbers of the Nazi movement, which in modern times is known as National Socialism and Arianism.
Satanists used Nazism because for them, the holocaust was required, or else their central hex (calling anyone a Jew and anything a Jewish plot), would not work. Satanist Nazis follow the demon “Mizanekhsa” ( The word Ashkenazim backwards; all Nazis put together sort of make his body, and his “demonic power” supposedly unifies the Nazis in their work).
-As weird as it all sounds, this explains the foundations of Satanism in Nazi Germany (more on Satanism at next post), and it explains the holocaust as one massive ritualistic sacrifice committed to give the Nazis power they believed they would be able to use, only after the ritual was complete. There were even rumors from concentration camps that the ashes from the Jewish people who were burned in the ovens were spread through the atmosphere, dropped from planes over all of Nazi-unified Europe, and supposedly the Nazis believed that they were consecrating the land in some way. Europe was unified under one rule, just as they planned, but a bit over two generations later, with the founding of the European Union and the economics of it explains itself; Satanism is about people management, they literally see themselves as the people who manage the rest of the people on Earth, and Satanists are evil.
It’s also out there, but it fits to the model of pursuing what these types of Nazi soldiers apparently believed was guaranteed Satanic power. Satanism in the end is run by the Aristocracy, in particular the secret society Skull and Bones, whose roots trace back to Bavaria, a state in Germany. Skull and Bones operates as a knightly order that is loyal only to this secret Aristocratic state. In fact, the famous Skull and Bones pin used at a special rank in the Nazi SS is a signal of service to this role in the hierarchy of “real” world power. These were the adherents to the ideologies that will never be forgiven, and they concealed themselves the entire time within the Nazi war machine.
=====
At the next post: More on Satanism, how the word “you” is given any power at all to the Satanist, and what the worship of Satan is without Nazism. If you got here from elsewhere, link to blog’s next post: http://anewgnosis.com/2022/01/12/the-conversation-that-makes-the-satanist/
…occurs between an adult male and a 7 year old girl.
(Under 3 pages. Adult themed, people may consider parts graphic; children will mimic what they believe to be normal, and those raising them can structure the child’s world in such a way as to have their lived experiences validate a worldview that develops around, and ostensibly “for” the child.)
“Why do you call all that silly stuff?”
“Because you make so many funny sounds when I pull it out of you”
“Can you get that towel, the silly stuff I made got all over the place this time.”
Little girl runs to get the towel, and makes a perplexed face as she turns back toward the man, because he’s speaking, and she’s trying her best to understand. The man is saying something about how now Satan will be happy – she asks:
“Why is Satan happy now?
“Satan got more power, and Satan is nothing more than his name, so without what you do, Satan gets no power.”
“How can Satan do anything though, if Satan is only his name?”
“Remember the games we play to teach you what words and letters mean?”
Girl’s voice trails off while she shifts, her torso half-twisting left to right as she responds,
“Some of that stuff I remember. Like don’t be afraid of Lucifer. Lucifer is only his name – just like Satan”
“Correct. And to understand that what do you do?”
“You use the vowels to discover the hex that gives them all their power.”
“Very good. What is Satan’s hex?”
“Satan’s hex is “Not as…”
“You’re going to earn a sweet if you keep doing so well. Do you know how Satan’s power comes from the not-as hex?”
Girl gets visibly shy, putting her finger to her mouth, and she is noticeably enticed by the promise of a sweet as she says, “No one taught me that yet”.
“The first step in making a hex for Satan….”
“-Oh, I know that, you turn Satan’s name around.”
“Good, but you let me explain now. If you knew it you would have said it.”
“Right”
“Satan’s name backwards spells Nat as. That isn’t going to work if the hex that gives Satan all his power is “nat as”; Satan needs the hex to be Not as. So what has to happen?”
“The second “a” if you say his name forwards has to become an o, or the first “a” if you say his name backwards becomes the o.”
“Very good. Now, that is a real powerful hex – that one hex gave Satan all his power, and Satan owns the entire planet.”
“Wow. The whole world. Even me and you.”
“That’s right, both of us. And that hex gives all of Satan’s chosen people the ability to lie. The hex means that no matter what those “normies” out there think we’re doing, their worries are “not as” they seem. In fact, thanks to Satan’s hex power I can walk into a grocery store, grab a real expensive bottle of liquor and walk right out without paying.”
“But they’ll stop you. You can’t steal, and it’s not just because the “normies” deserve it. I already know that.”
“Good girl. Satan gives us a life that doesn’t require us to steal, but we do have to be in practice, because you never know what Satan may need.” (Arrangements where store clerks are paid off get made regularly to allow for shoplifting of this type but this conversation, mainly because of the age of the child, doesn’t require the tactic.)
“If you did get caught Satan would make the store person think it wasn’t you.”
“Very good. We use Satan’s power hex to do things normies will never think we did. In fact we can steal from that store right off the truck! We can steal it before it’s even in the store and no one will catch us, because even if a normie catches us in the act Satan’s hex tells their brains that the exact opposite of what they are seeing is happening.”
“Stupid store person.”
“Satan knows it. But Satan doesn’t want everyone we call a normie to be without his guidance, so we use Luciferians to spread the message. But wait, first we need Satan’s hex to work. It can’t work without the second “a” in Satan’s name becoming an o.” The man smiles widely, reaching to pinch the cheek of the 7 year old as he says, “You pulling that funny stuff out of me made the “a” become an o, and that means that when we spell Satan’s name backwards, it now says “Not As”.
“So, now Satan can protect us?”
“That’s right, but only our kind of people”
The girl says with all the borrowed authority of a 7 year old that’s used to currying favor with this type of adult attention, “We need Lucifer’s people for the normies.”
“Well, Satan does. As Satanists we just do our part, and Lucifer just like you already know, only exists as his name as well. What is Lucifer’s power hex?”
“Lucifer’s power hex is three words long: I am you”
“That’s Right! But if Lucifer only exists as his name, there is an I and there is a “u”, so where do the letters “a” and “m” come from? Lucifer’s hex isn’t I… you.”
“They say the other letters come from Satan but I haven’t learned that yet.”
“For Satan we have to turn that second “a” into an o before we turn the word around, you pulling the funny stuff out of me made the “a” an o, but the “a” didn’t go away…”
“That’s because Satan gave it to Lucifer”
“How did you know? Now, that’s incredible.”
Then the girl puffs out her chest a bit, displaying how proud she is as she explains,
“Satan gives everyone everything, so Lucifer would have to get the “a” for his power hex from Satan.”
“And the magic only you can do for me is why Lucifer has the “a”, without it, Satan wouldn’t have an “a” to give – because Satan wouldn’t get the o that goes in its place.
“-Right” The little girls starts getting distracted and knowing the lesson is important, the adult speaks up in a playful voice,
“You’ll get that sweet if you can tell me where the m Lucifer needs for his power hex comes from.”
“Why do we need Lucifer’s power hex? We’re Satanists?”
Everyone who lives in Satan’s service needs Satan’s power hex and Lucifer’s. If I would have stolen that bottle of liquor from the store and someone else was in the store at the time, thanks to Lucifer’s power hex, the store person’s memory, or even a police officer’s impression changes into believing that the other person in the store stole it.”
“What? You mean, like they’ll say someone else did it even though it was you.”
“Yes. Because everything our kind of people have to lie about cannot all just be us telling the normies “No matter what you think we’re doing, you’re wrong.”
“Girl smiles. Because normies are stupid, but they aren’t that dumb?” -She’s played this same role in the same conversation for at least a year by now. The only thing that changes is the man she’s talking to, how well she understands what is being discussed, and her ability to offer the correct answer with any amount of certainty (she’s 7).
“Well, normies are dumb. But we have to give them a chance. That’s why we do things this way. Remember? You’ll get a sweet if you remember how Lucifer makes his power hex out of his name.”
“He does it with Satan’s help – the “a” becomes an o – so you get ‘I… a… you’ The girl gets physically exhausted as she says, “Where does the m come from then?”
“Lucifer can’t use his power hex unless he can find the letter his power hex needs, now you’re a girl and I am a man. How do you spell am? The hex is missing a word and Lucifer needs it, what letter after “a” spells the word “am”?
“M” spells the word am after “a”, but Satan doesn’t have an m in his name…”
The man smiles at the confused girl’s face, knowing she really just wanted to remain focused on this idea until she got her sweet, and that’s when he announces,
“Without all the men in Satanism the little girls and young women pull the funny stuff out of, Satan can’t take the letter “m” from the beginning of the word man, and give it to Lucifer. The other vowel in Lucifer’s name is an “e”, which means…”
“Energy”
“That’s it! So you know Lucifer has enough power to take another letter, if Satan gives him the “m” he gets from raising little boys into men. If Satan didn’t raise them, then the “m” from the word man would not be Satan’s to give, and without that Lucifer would have no power at all.”
The man leans into the little girl’s eyes, getting real close as he asks, “And you know why Satanists use Luciferians.”
“To take care of the normies.”
“There you go! You have it. Because you’re seven, us doing this today will give Lucifer his perfect will. But Satan and Lucifer really, I mean really needs boys and men.”
“How else do Satan and Lucifer need girls?”
“Now that’s a silly question. Without all you girls, how else would we pull the funny stuff out?”
===
To follow what happens to at least some of these kids once they get into their teens and twenties: http://anewgnosis.com/2021/05/04/the-mk-ultra-reality/
For more on Satanism in general: http://anewgnosis.com/2021/04/13/satans-vatican-based-catholicism/
(About 4 pages. This work has been cut up into the novel [white elephant sale]. Available here:http://anewgnosis.com/2021/04/09/71/
Reverberations through unmoving light startle the myths out of us and hang continuously as constructs built out of set resonant fields, differentiated from the energy underlying our world. Large solid forms made of a compressed gelatinous substance, each encased in a static electricity envelope the same color as the rest of the field, house solid tentacles whose suckers have intra-dimensional reach. We live lives of pretend, believing we are freed from their grasp.
Disregard thought…
Eyes shut, world fuzzes in like off-signal transmission. Lost in cavernous words, a dream flashing across a void, in silence spawning voices upon voices through my vacant mind, and this must be the speaker’s fault. Otherwise, image of fingertips gracing my shoulder, seated in the third to last pew, thought of the usher leaning forward startle-shakes my head awake and I snap straight up in my seat. His return to his post haunts the rear corner of my eye, backward steps, not to turn his back on the idol-plaster sufferer, call it what you will, this, us, all things will end, so,
“Why not congregate?” –In the name of what defines our lives, their minds, and how strange it feels to not belong.
…Our constant struggle to capture this spirit’s amusement…
A need to have witness, one to attest that everything that any person knows of your life is the outer shell of a divine intrusion. -Not the greasy smiles and gold threaded robes of their pay-the-toll-man divinity. Eyes gentle drift back, lids’ fall to weighted rest, head slops over to the right, world fuzzes out like off-signal transmission:
Smiles stretch across canyons formed of echoing words, all bodies wrapped in comfort comatose. In the translucent belly of a mechanical fish delving through depths, swirling, scales falling, rising like stars to black unending fathoms below or above, vision delivering us to void.
…I looked down too long and became transfixed…
Heard warbles of voices, made an auditory mosaic, tried building a message out of too many voices, picking out one to listen to will drive you mad. Otherwise, image of a seated crowd lowering to their knees and the sound of a thousand creaks, as knee pads swung out from the backs of pews hit thick maroon carpet in countless soft thuds echoing the hall.
(Hands clutch and tighten around my neck, becoming short of breath, panic deep within reverberates to my surface.) Head snaps awake, everyone in the room is kneeling, corresponding with the priest as a group, reciting rehearsed answers to the widest of questions. Sorrow and incense thin on the conditioned, dusty air. We bow our heads to the altar.
…Structured to find yourself for you…
Outside we discuss speeds relative to capacities and what’s possible if you can’t lose your body. If a leaf falls from a branch at a specific rate of approach, would the ground or the tree cease to be? Inside they claimed a construct exists between our universal ground of being and our physical bodies. Or, that’s how I heard it; there is an all-being evil someone circumvented a long time ago – in that guy’s disembodied and very real hands, it will work out. Strive to bring a speck of divinity into the world but nothing will match his return, it’s just around the corner; it will pick all of us up out of the mire.
“Now get out there and don’t get too dirty.”
In the parade you want the incremental piece by piece dripping of works and facial contortions. Half smiles, invisible bruises present beneath spoken tones. Wails of agony thin as they cool from magma dream sequences and turn over to convey empathetic revival, awakening again to choose my costume. Expectations of the day, the hunt or salvage for survival planned.
“It’s not half as bad as you think.”
Everything is noisier than it seems and only heard in its full breadth if I’d just shut up. I heard the paraphrased accusation, overacting the scene, translated as a matter of course inside an unarticulated cognitive process. It’s not the whole parade scripted, rising from my bed, like the air awaits movement, a moment of weakness praying for companionship. Three day old ticker-tape-tallied up gains and losses, my last visitor’s voice echoes, invisibly shifts my mood and we’re not likely to meet again. Phantoms disdain this solid, sedentary nature – a sacred, punctuated realization, slicing up thin strips of paper, because if the satellites wanted to see this you know they could.
Gather up all evidence from all unacknowledged corners of conception. Print-out-cut-out; rain down mockeries, tree corpse nondescript congratulations. A ‘Welcome you home’ type parade, you’re convinced you were at war, now the fighting’s stopped but the battles never cease, they just switch arenas.
“You know, think about it. The whole world conspires for your benefit or demise?”
Carry on the inner struggle or accommodate, subdue, congeal your person to the generally accepted frames of surrender. Sigh, there’s nothing that can be done. Giggle, set attention prone for entertainment. There’s time to pass; parasites to feed; pain to attend, lives to numb. Don looks of concern, engage piecemeal awe and surprise, place a phone call. Send a text.
“I just never chose. -Fought because I sensed a fight.”
Works through our every procession, any pause; from our rise to our return to our collapse in euphoric exhaustion. Plays what you know to be you against what you hope you are and what you refuse your sight. Convulsion, yawn the disdain for your position. After the marching band, in front of the cash register, pretending you forget overheard customer conversations as they happen.
They’re all just instruments being fingered, beaten, stroked, and forced to orgasm against their wills – by a companion no one admits is present – climaxes belonging to this other are expressed in people’s motions. Make you feel dirty for synchronized glandular secretions led in concert by god, angel, devil or demon. Each shudder, every empty glare – dead-end signposts to make you glorious and place your order. Smile, glance silent articulations of being, reach for your drink and off to your place.
“You’re not in control then, no one is.”
Regions refused self-navigation contract, constrict the iris and the pupil, being a perfect black body, is complete shadow, allowing the indweller vision. What awaits a man that intuits their existence? -Welcomes their participation, discerns their outlines inside his being and with his evidence gathered, demands they relinquish control? All surrounding topics constituting normal life become runoff swirling downward. Every communication becomes façade behind which motives are surmised, and unspoken intentions are taken as poorly masked metaphoric content in literal speech. Standing in the shower, feeling the water in the pipes more than what’s falling, no- the heat of the metal carrying the message, laughter circling the drain. Second to third block down main-street, a crowd of onlookers starts to thicken. Begin with an ice cube behind the nose between the eyes and say,
“Hello, how are you?” to melt the tension. Nonsense of the sort that shoots sparks into the frozen solid, building microscopic tunnels strike by strike. Failure to listen is confirmation of being heard. More thoughts to attend regarding where you parked, what time you might get a call, and listing how many words you know that are shorter than three syllables because they’re easier on your thumbs.
The ice cracks, starts dripping ice cold down your nostrils. You wonder if its wind-stirred allergens, things you know you dislike founded on opinions you’ve adopted as your stance. Fire, now raging in sinus membranes behind the eyes drives thought. Invisible cartoon-steam rises through your scalp, sweating miniscule outbursts out in salty droplets, forcing your calm.
“…I am wrestling to claim myself and bodily control, the same thing most anyone assumes is theirs. It is not, more than can be said for…”
The lowest price will no longer be available tomorrow. Snort, smoke, drink and swallow this to forget. Bat eyes bashful, practice enticement, suggest incentive and experience mastery. Everything is louder than it seems and the total sensation is transmitted on more shades of grey than I ever imagined. Sometimes, walking parallel in the rank and file, I treasure my uniform. It helps me blend in and sickens me at the same time. Basic, understated calculations; crowds cheer at intervals opposite periods of silence taken to maintain the most foundational biologic functions. Breathing articulates commitment.
“Maybe you could just leave it for someone else to figure?”
You’ve become entangled and hindered by a force you unthinkingly disregard. Enraptured and made whole by the presence of something sharing your body, identifying more with others of the indwelt, sublimely ignorant of the inhabitants you mutually host. My presence gradually grows disquieting in any group. It works through us as shells and without emotive impetus to intensify bonds between parts of its body. Your greatest weakness is your persistence to reason once the enemy is identified -to personify the basal inhumane, be comforted rejecting a person that fights to remove what has no right to live inside them.
“What you’re trying to get at is apparently beyond my grasp.”
-Internal distance thereby traveled rendered you magnanimous by self-evaluation, makes me an onlooker and I’ve left the parade. Getting hungry, suddenly have thought enough to address my needs and observe what best contributes to your sunset. How comfortable you’ve become at night and estranged from accomplishment. I hear your songs and admire your delivery. You are a silhouette cast by porch-light. Nodding agreement without knowing what you’re saying, modifying expressions to convey interest and offering guttural nuanced sounds to encourage the melody. Your song continues, I’m standing at the base of your stoop, your song continues. I’m watching from the street, in front of your house and sitting across the same table.
…Decided long ago to be alone and removed until I could return with an answer…
Spent hours, days, and weeks on shorelines, in forests, deserts, and used substances to impose artificial solitude until my every movement was hindered. It’s a part of us laughing at the rest of us, a part balling up in the throes of whimpering, gasping-for-air crying, and a part screaming to be left alone and be included, but only on our terms. White light is the spirit of death in one canon and the bringer of awareness in another.
…Indwellers are the agents of what lurks behind both theories…
Nothing quelled an occasional inner shiver that grew over time to portents of convulsion; comes on like a secret attack from under your skin and leaves you just as you start to notice the effect. You have no choice. The choice is yours. You will be medicated to under-normal, nurtured into diapers, or have your problems strewn into a pageantry we’ll direct with pokes and prods. We’re here to help. I fit where they want me, doing my best to not whore out my mind. They promise me I’ll get comfortable on all fours. They get around to me once a week, the beauty I’ve found in these confines is the razor’s edge, foot before foot, mile after yards. Can’t be tracked as distance moved or a path traveled and it’s more than pacing the hall.
Madness is easily diagnosed from their side of the plexiglass, we wear gowns. They share eyes, their names wear letters, we snicker inside and they laugh aloud. Pondering where psychiatric care becomes psychological torture over meals cooked to order, gnawing meat from the bones of the matter, placing the line between unsettling differences in character and psychiatric assassination. Will not watch TV; will not use a cell phone; will not entertain small talk as something worthwhile.
“Patient dreams of spaces between stars, refuses to share, increase dosage as recommended.”
I have a choice. Straighten-up, define what straight is using the pops and fizzes their pills cause my brain, or get nice and comfortable inside my cage, assured they’ll dispense accordingly. You unexamined holders of mischief proclaiming beliefs held too long without question: I am not akin to your likeness. Listening is less than prognosis. Your satisfaction does not announce a cure. We’ve played in the same field long enough, this world is not a neural construct, a composite sketch for a crew, a stage commanded by directors.
“Are you listening? Can you stop?”
The energy drawn upon by your nervous system every time you move, every time your heart beats; it’s all orchestrations of cell-based homeostasis being maintained throughout your body, each spark in every cell is sparked forward from static energy sitting differentiated, closer to manifest by our constantly drawing upon it to keep this operation moving – a gelatinous field beneath the physical world, stretching in clear, glowing compressed plasma, the same color of the sun but with no heat. Rub a balloon against cloth, move it close to your forearm and a field of static electricity fills in the space, it tugs at your arm hair; the gap between the body and that realm is felt like the static electricity the balloon causes, and the connection provides continuity for this mind of narcissus locked inside the body of father time.
Persistent damning judgments delivered by an invisible court, sentences decided for masses so concerned to keep smiling they won’t let on how much they’re bothered, this civilization of society, with sponsors who encourage codified explanations and discount answers. I am a whole man, not compartmentalized into what fits each situation. Not the light handed, empty minded sort of schizophrenia that passes as refined in your world.
When I found the enemy I cried myself to sleep for nights at the hopelessness, at the purveyance of this monster’s grasp. Eventually I found a way to fight and, more, over time, I found the will. This war does not seek to make soldiers from men and women or drones from people. It aims to part you away and alone from those around you and expects you to augment the social atrophy by purchasing services and hoarding goods, each of you has been ordained bit proprietors of a personal manifest destiny, enjoy the inner calm this brings – the disembodied voices will follow soon.
Structures slowly assemble, piece by piece out of atrocity, terror and deviance. Knowing our bodily functions, their indescribable root causes, and triggering sensory outbursts, they tighten their control. Their construct branches out through void to electric wire canopies affixed to warehouse rafters and each array overlays, doubles through the circuitry running through the roofs of the buildings we live our lives in; our days are spent feeding their strength. Each unit encloses an allotted darkness, where innocents are sent according to degrees of offense. Methods of conveyance, any transferred evidence, still unknown. …Inferred are the indwellers, we the indwelt.
