Remote viewing was popularized in the 1990s upon the 'declassification' of certain documents held by the United States Government related to the 'Stargate Project', a $20 million + research program that had started in 1975 and was sponsored by the U.S. government, in an attempt to determine any potential military application of the remote viewing psychic phenomena.
The program was terminated in 1995 and was sub-contracted to a 'Private' research facility which not only discovers and researches the remote viewing phenomenon but to 'train' suitable applicants who are then used to gather intelligence about activities not only on Earth but further afield into the Cosmos. It appears that we 'all' have the ability to be 'Remote Viewers' and with practise we can all access that part of the brain which acts like a TV transmitter/receiver. The very fact that we are all just biological batteries producing both Positive and Negative 'energy' every second of our lives should not be wasted by denying that there is a remote viewer in all of us.
The worry is, that we might all be walking around at present having had 'all' of our thoughts, behaviours and actions recorded by armies of remote viewers collating that informaton for the highest bidder. Google and Facebook do an amazing job at present (betraying our thoughts and actions) but are dependent on internet access which in the near future could, and most probably 'will,' be severely restricted. It's then that these armies of 'remote viewers' will come into their own.
All rubbish? - Impossible? - Just look around you - Nothing! is impossible anymore, because with artificial intelligence on the verge of out-smarting 'all' of us, are we even a necessary evil for this planet 'we' call home but is in fact 'home' to our temporary hosts who cultivated our development to serve 'their needs' and our lease is about to expire with no renewal clause in the offing.
The Black Queen lifts her Sultry head. Looks round at those who share her bed. "I see you've all come bearing news". "So good to see you fit your shoes".
The 'Robot Wars' no more a dream. Conspiritors compound the scheme. Digits on computer screens, keep cash control within 'Her' means.
We've built the dream of our 'Black Queen'. We can now see, and 'all' be seen. 'Robot Intelligence' not in doubt. Exceeds our own, inside and out.
The life-blood of our modern world is cash that shows that we have 'earned'. We are haemorrhageing badly now. It must be stemmed. Do 'we' know how?
Have the 'Surgeons' taken vows to our 'Black Queen'? Who really Knows?
'Big Brother' is her favourite Son. The war He's fought is almost won. He watches and tracks our every motion. With 'stealth' he follows in high resolution.
The Brown Crusader, Obama too, are in her bed. (I thought you knew)
The folly of life, I hear you say. Is as plain as night, as clear as day. We are just an accident on an alien blue moon, and the way that we are going, we’ll be gone too soon.
But the folly of life is a mind in its own. The name of the force by which we are shown. It’s here in the form of imagination. One mans folly - is another mans station.
We see the folly's all around. Often standing on lonely ground. Where brilliant men would sit and ponder. Where White Scams come, and make them wonder.
Wondering through this ageless time, gave them visions, so sublime. They could really see quite clearly, that this blue moon views us VERY dearly.
Some call it inspiration. Others call it love. Whatever you call it be assured. It’s brought down from above.
Why do the folly's look so strange ? Their forms often defy us ? They were built from plans in one mans mind, to house the scams that guide mankind. So he could sit and contemplate, defenses of the White Kings gate.
His inspiration. Love of life. Often caused him trouble. Most would call him really strange, but our futures he would re-arrange.
Genius - is often used, to describe these men who were abused. We couldn’t understand their mind, as they struggled on to save mankind.
People will now buy these folly's. They know what will await them. These scams of generations past find peace in their to form the cast. To play lifes game and make it last.
When you see a folly sing and cheer. The fate of the world could be waiting there. Know this, and appreciate.
Six years old and it's Five-O-Clock. This is the high-light of my day. With my younger brother and sister I wait at the bottom of our road.
Anxiously we wait, looking to the bend at the bottom of the hill. Suddenly we all three Start!! …. It's Him! The Old-Man with his chin nearly hitting the handlebars as he pedals his old bike up the hill. When he sees us, a big grin stretches from ear-to-ear.
The old cloth cap resting precariously on those pixie-ears. The dew-drop that always seems to be dripping from that old Roman-Nose. C'mon Dad …... Pedal Faster!
One of us sits on the crossbar, another on the handlebars, and the lucky one gets the saddle. The Old-Man now pushes us up our motley old flint hill to tea-time at home. (Dinner for him). The one who gets the saddle is fortunate indeed, the others have a bumpy old ride for sure, but we don't complain, he's 'Our Old-Man'.
At the dinner table we get to hear the full account. Every action, every flower and tree planted. Every bush cut, every Squirrel or Jay he's seen. All the while slicing his rhindy old cheese with his old bone-handled gardeners knife, held in a hand that seems made of thick black leather. Every now and then, he pauses, pours a little of his hot tea into his saucer, then slurps it down, giving a gratifying Burp! At the end.
All this takes it's toll on Our Old-Man and he asks one of us to run down the corner shop. One single razor-blade will have to last the week. He'll rub it inside a glass each night to put back the 'edge'. On return he's fast asleep in his faithful old 'windsor chair', the smouldering Woodbine dangling from his mouth and the smell fills the kitchen, what a gentle Old-Man?
Well …... until the fag burns down to his lips, the air's a bit blue then.
Later as he sits, sketching 'fluffy people' with 'fluffy hats', 'fluffy sticks' and 'fluffy pipes', 'Wake Up Little Susie' comes on the radio and the BIG Grin is back! The glint's in his eyes, and out come the Old-Spoons to play along.
Then it's Hide-and-Seek, chasing us round the sofa while Mum tries to do her sewing. No Telly …. Thank God! Or we might never have 'known' the gentle 'Old-Man'.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twelve years old now and it's 10 pm. I've just got in, and OH! How I hate that Old-Man? I wish he'd die or something. He actually thinks I should be in by 8 pm!! And it's still just light outside.
Why does he always want to know what 'I' am doing? Where I've been and WHO with? What business is it of HIS? I'm only his Son – not his pet dog. Why should it bother HIM? Stuff him, who needs him anyway?
School, what a draaaaaaag? They don't seem to be able to tell me anything that I don't already know.
I've got a Job instead, It pays 'more' than the 'Old-Man' earns. Serve him right – the miserable Old Git!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
UH-OH! ….. I've been caught nicking. Reported for bunking school and working. It's alright, I'll blame it on the 'Old-Man'. After all, he keeps nagging me, getting on my back all the time, it's bound to have an effect. How can it be 'MY' fault??
I don't believe it! They've put me away! A care order until I'm 18 years old. Still, I won't have the 'Old-Man' moaning at me, telling me how to behave, what to do, who to see, who to avoid. That's good …... isn't it??
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's funny, I seem to be missing the 'Old-Man', I keep remembering the 'good times', when he'd take me up the fields on a freezing night to pick dandelions for my rabbit and guinea-pig.
The time he took me on a pub outing to Southsea. When we walked late at night to the next village to see his long-lost sister he hadn't seen for decades but who died just two weeks later.
HUH! …. Even those needle-sharp whiskers that used to hurt us when he'd kiss us goodnight.
How did I ever forget the 'Gentle Old-Man'??
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A letter from my Mum. She's left the 'Old-Man'. It's not his fault, she's going through 'the change'. Feels she's missed out on life and is going to find it.
But the 'Old-Man'? .... He cries, and cries, and cries some more. The 'Gentle Old-Man' - He's breaking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The 'authorities' don't know yet, and they're letting me home for a few days.
I walk into our house, it's unlocked as always. There's the 'Old-Man' stooped over his football pools. He can't read, but he'll spend an hour or two studying them. He'll then get the woman next door to fill in his details. The crosses he can manage quite easily. Especially the 'X' for no publicity.
He grunts towards me, asks if I'm OK. Probably thinks I'm looking for another argument. We sit looking at each other for what seems an eternity, then he gives me two-bob which I knew he couldn't afford. But I took it anyway, he seemed pleased and smiled.
I noticed the place was filthy, and so was he. He was so white, thin and the 'sparkle' had gone from his eyes. They were now a dim, glazed blue, set in pale cheeks once rosy. Topped now with yellow hair, once white.
I only saw him once more. On his trusty old bike. We both looked, knew one another, but were such complete strangers by then. We didn't even smile. I went to stay with Mum for the next few days.
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A year later and I was called to the Super's office. It was early morning, just before school. “Your Father has Died”.... “He'd apparently been ill for some time but was too afraid to go to the doctor, he thought he'd lose your younger brother and sister”.
“It was cancer. He was admitted to hospital last night, he died early this morning – Do you want to go to the funeral?” I replied “No, I don't think I will”. (I couldn't face the finality of it all,
I wanted to remember him by that last glance we exchanged. Where we both seemed to know what the other was thinking).
“But he 'was' your father, You can't hate him 'all' your life”.
I couldn't believe that 'that' was the impression I'd given and so the next morning I changed my mind.
What a funeral? Only five or six people. Only immediate family, where were his friends? Those he spent many happy hours with at the pub. He even had the nick-name 'Happy'.
It seemed they were fair-weather-friends, who deserted him when he could no longer go to the pub, either because he had to look after the Young'uns, or because he was too ill. Though he did work up until the weekend he died.
Did no-one else notice his passing? ... Mum? She was seriously ill in hospital herself.
So …. it was a Paupers funeral for 'The Gentle Old-Man'. Plain, unvarnished coffin, slipping quietly through the curtains, to be swallowed by the 'Eternal Flame'.
What a Gentle 'Old-Man'?
Please Check Out 'Visions Of The Future Past' & 'Memories Like Autumn Leaves' - Here! :-)
Before
‘matter’ formed within infinite space creating the Cosmos that we
know today, there were only ‘negatively’ charged electrons
forming the state we call ‘oblivion’. A place where there is no
light, no sound, no smell, no touch, no feelings or emotions. Total
oblivion.
In the
beginning, these ‘negatively’ charged electrons needed a
‘positive’ charge to bounce off of. To rub against and cause
‘duplication’ of the ‘Negative’ electron.
In the
beginning, that charge was the ‘positive’ energy we call
‘imagination’. The very thing that has created ALL we see around
us in our HUMAN world. Nothing could have been built or created by we
humans without the POWER of ‘imagination’. If we can ‘imagine’
something, it can be done. But ONLY with the harnessed power of
‘imagination’.
In the
beginning, time was irrelevant. There was no need for ‘time’ as
we know it because there was nothing to measure. No future, no past,
no present. Just ‘Oblivion’…..BUT!…..
In the
beginning, the electron that was ‘positively’ charged with
‘imagination’ was busily doing exactly what ‘imagination’
does best. ‘Imagining’, (surprise, surprise).
Imagining
beautiful images in the likeness of itself. Spherical in form with an
order about them that would make them duplicatable into infinity.
In the
beginning, ‘Time’ was now beginning to form in the imagination of
the lonesome electron. it had all the plans imagined, but no way of
forming and duplicating them. There was no ‘time frame’. For
this, it needed to imagine mathematical equations to form ‘TIME’
itself, and this it duly did.
In the
beginning, the lonesome ‘positively’ charged electron had
imagined trillions upon trillions of images, but had no way to make
them real. It was stuck in oblivion with no means of forming all of
those images ‘outside’ of the prison it found itself
within…..THEN!……
In the
beginning, the lonesome ‘positive’ charge filled with
‘imagination’ imagined the most POWERFUL tool it had ever been
able to imagine before.
It
imagined ‘vibration’.
OK, all
very well imagining ‘vibration’ but how will that ‘create’
all of the images that need to be formed to escape from ‘oblivion’?
In the
beginning, the lonesome ‘positive’ charge imagined ‘MUSIC’!
It
imagined all the various ‘vibrations’ coming together in a
‘mathematical’ sequence thus causing a ‘tune’ to form.
Imagining the tune caused the lonesome ‘positively’ charged
electron to ‘vibrate’ itself….UNTIL!…
In the
beginning, the lonesome ‘positively’ charged electron ‘vibrated’
so much to ‘the rhythm of the beat’ that it caused friction
between itself, and the ‘negatively charged’ electrons that
filled the prison called ‘OBLIVION’. Very soon it was duplicating
‘itself’ so fast, and the music got faster and more frantic,
causing even faster ‘rapid expansion’ of the now ‘not so
lonely’ positively charged electrons, that all that pent-up imagery
was let loose and ‘matter’ was formed in what we now call ‘The
Cosmos’.
You
Now Have An Interpretation About The ‘BIG BANG’ That Created
‘Creation’ Itself.
The Cosmos
and all ‘matter’ is held together by……… ‘vibrations’.
The Cosmos
‘sings’ through infinity.
(We have
scientific instruments that ‘prove’ this).
All
‘matter’, no matter how insignificant, ‘vibrates’.
Everything
is held together by frequencies of vibrations… FACT!
Music is
probably the most powerful tool we have at our disposal. It can heal
the sick. It can create action. It can stimulate ‘imagination’
itself.
IT
IS ALSO THE MOST ‘ABUSED’ TOOL WE HAVE AT OUR DISPOSAL.
‘The
Few’ know of it’s power, and while they give us the ‘sweetener’
of unlimited access to as much music as we can possibly handle, they
give us ‘with’ that sweetener, the power to destroy ourselves
through drink, drugs and debauchery. All the things that many people
now accept as ‘normal’ because we have been conditioned (mainly
through the power of music and the ‘media’) to accept such
behaviour as normal.
Yet when
we honestly ‘search’ our conscience in the privacy of our own
company. We KNOW we are acting in conflict with what is TRULY
healthy.
In the
beginning, the ‘negatively’ charged electrons were in their
‘heaven’. That was their world. That was their existence and they
were comfortable with ‘nothing’ in oblivion. So much so, that
they began to FIGHT BACK, to try and get back to that state of
oblivion. ‘The Few’ are the agents of that dark energy who are
trying to return everything back to ‘the status quo’.
We have
the ‘Black Army’ fighting the ‘White Army’. If the ‘Black
Army’ win (as they are doing) we destroy ourselves, the cosmos
‘implodes’ and a state of ‘oblivion’ is restored.
If the
‘White Army’ wins. Which it ‘must’ for the future of all we
love and hold dear, then we will enter the next stage of human
development, and the development of the Cosmos; ‘UTOPIA’.
Did
you think that ‘CHESS’ was developed as a ‘game’?
Sorry, but
it was developed so that the ‘wise men’ of the ‘White Army’
could work out strategies to predict and defeat the actions of the
‘Black Army’.
War as we
know it will become unnecessary and irrelevant because the ‘positive’
energy of the ‘White Army’ doesn’t consider the ‘taking of
life’ as acceptable in any way.
When ‘The
Few’ are defeated, their main weapon which is ‘WAR’ in all of
it’s ghastly forms (the living hell) will be defeated with them.
'VisionsOf The Future Past' A book that is a blueprint for our
development is now available for us all to use.
.
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What
true value do we put on Money? - What is Money? - Should we fear or
worship Money? We are all blessed with a free resource from the
moment we are born and it remains a free resource until the moment we
draw our last breath. That free resource is 'energy' – the
electrical stimulus that inter-connects every atom in the cosmos,
that controls our every thought, action and
movement.
Money is the device used by us (humans) as an exchange rate for that
free energy.
You
can harness it in a positive manner and Money will be attracted to
you as if by magic. Or you can use it in a negative manner to create
a world of lies, deceit and destruction around you.
Do
you use your free energy in a 'negative' or 'positive' manner?
(The
choice is Yours)
~~~~~~~~~~
Please check out 'Visions Of The Future Past' and 'Memories - Like Autumn Leaves' - HERE!
