In the museum called Reality

by Jon Rappoport

February 11, 2014

www.nomorefakenews.com

You stroll through a museum.

Many rooms, many paintings.

You come upon a large landscape. Fields, cottages, hills, valleys, mountains rising in the background.

While other people move past it with a glance, you walk closer.

It’s lovely.

There, in the lower left-hand corner, you see the beginning of a narrow trail among a stand of pines. You wish you could…

A man is suddenly standing next to you. He’s smiling.

“Go ahead,” he says. “You can do it.”

Absurd. And yet…

You wonder.

“All it takes is conviction,” he says.

You look closer at that trail. Beyond the trees, there is a small cabin. It’s perfect.

And then…you’re walking along the trail. You can feel the soft earth under your shoes. You can smell the pines.

You walk faster, and in a few minutes you arrive at the cabin.

The door is ajar.

You enter.

One room. A bed, a small table, a chair, a fireplace.

On the mantle, there is a book bound in cracked leather. You walk over, pick it up, and open it.

You see drawings of a city. Crowded streets, people sitting in sidewalk cafes, cars, tall buildings. You can hear the noise on the streets.

It’s the kind of city you’d like to visit. There you would be free, unattached. You would walk and live as an unknown person. You would be a stranger, but no one would know that.

The cabin is gone. You’re exiting a ground-floor apartment in the city. You’re emerging on to a street with a briefcase in your hand.

You open the briefcase. In it are several file folders.

You see a sheaf of papers. They seem to be a report. The name of the author…you sense it’s your name.

You have a job. You think about it for a few seconds, and you realize you know where your office is. It’s up the street and over three blocks.

Suddenly, you’re sitting in that office. You look out the window. You’re a dozen floors above the street.

A woman walks in and sets down a cup of coffee on your desk.

She lays a key next to the coffee.

“This is the one you wanted,” she says. “I did a little research and found out it used to be a freight elevator.”

She walks out.

You pick up the key and examine it. It’s made of gray metal. There is a circle inscribed in it, and inside the circle is a square.

You stand up and walk out of the office, along a corridor, and through an exit. There on your left is a large set of double doors.

You insert the key into a hole and the doors open. You step in.

The doors close and you feel the elevator descend.

After a minute, it stops and opens. You step out. The doors close behind you.

You’re standing in a small room. On the walls, you see drawings and inscriptions, pictographs. Maps. Labyrinths. You see five, six, and eight-pointed stars. Animals. Circles containing squares. Other geometric figures. Numbers. Faces.

You turn back to the elevator. You look but you can’t find a place to insert the key. You try to pry the doors apart, but they won’t budge.

…Now, you feel as if you’ve been standing in that room for a very long time. You have memories of trying to decipher the drawings on the walls. You have memories of having almost succeeded, only to be stymied.

It seems you have a long history of having tried to decode secrets.

A man is standing next to you. He’s smiling. His face is familiar.

“I only encouraged you,” he says. “I’m no magician. I just gave you a little push. You supplied the conviction. That’s the main thing you have to understand.”

What does he mean?

A vague memory becomes sharper.

You were walking, a long time ago, in a museum. Yes.

And then you entered…something. And now you’re here.

Without thinking, you say, “There’s a rule against being bigger.”

He nods as if he understands perfectly.

“If I were to exit this place, this whole place,” you say, “I would be bigger. That’s not permitted. It’s a sign of…”

“Excessive pride,” he says.

“Yes,” you say.

“It indicates you’re trying to become ‘better than everyone else’. Which is a criminal offense.”

You think about his words. They spell out a rule, but who made the rule?

“Everybody who is here,” you say, “is smaller than they want to be?”

He smiles again. “That depends on what you mean by ‘want.’”

You repeat, “In this place, ‘bigger’ means ‘criminal.’ But who decided that?”

Then you realize you had a chain wrapped around your neck.

You reach up, and you can feel where the chain was. There is still an ache there.

The man is waiting. He’s looking at you.

“Why are you doing this?” you say.

“Doing what?”

He shakes his head.

He slowly fades out.

He was some kind of artifact. He was a construct that appeared out of your own voice and your own thoughts.

You made him.

You made him out of the scent of pines trees and the sound of water running through the forest and clouds and a desire whose substance you can’t quite fathom.

You sense you are betraying other people. That thought is made out of an old obsession to be like everyone else.

The obsession can become a life, a holy crusade.

But, you realize, it’s not your life or your crusade.

There is a soft explosion just behind your head.

You feel an impulse that is going to lift you off the floor.

And then…

You’re back in the museum.

You’re standing in front of the painting of the pine trees and the trail and the cabin and the fields and the mountains and the sky.

You’re trembling with relief.

A museum guard steps over to you.

“Are you all right, sir?” he says.

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, I’m fine.”

He nods.

You look into his eyes, and you see the small room just outside the elevator. That room is inside him.

“How about you?” you say.

His face flushes.

“Have a nice day,” he says.

“You, too.”

He starts to turn away, but then he doesn’t.

“Do you come to the museum often?” he says.

“I like the paintings,” you say. “I’m here several times a week. It’s a fine place.”

“Yes,” he says. “It is. I’ve wanted this job for a long time.”

“Why?”

“I’m protecting something important. I watch the people moving through the rooms and looking at the paintings. I watch them walk into the paintings…”

You nod.

He strolls away.

You continue to walk through the museum.

There are many paintings. Many entrances.

How many people are living inside those paintings? How many ever get out?

Jon Rappoport

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29^th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at www.nomorefakenews.com

The reality salesman makes a house call

by Jon Rappoport

February 9, 2014

www.nomorefakenews.com

In major media, there is always a potential Threat Level. Reporters feel it. Editors who assign reporters stories feel it. Even CEOs can feel it.

It happens when a story is about to break through containment and show the public that a cherished belief or institution is as phony as a three dollar bill.

Bells start ringing. Red flags go up.

Time to pull back. Time to lie. Time to pretend there is nothing to see.

If not, jobs will be on the line. Heads will roll.

The JFK assassination was that kind of story. 9/11 is that kind of story. The true statistic on medically caused death in America is that kind of story. Such stories are not permitted to be exposed in the mainstream. And by exposed, I mean “pounded on, ripped from stem to stern, day after day, revealing true conspiracies and heinous crimes.”

Instead, false fronts are erected. Cover stories are built and sold to the masses. A secret faith is kept.

There are so many false fronts in so many areas of life that, woven together, they form an overall picture of reality.

When people buy this picture, the price they pay is very steep. They sacrifice their capacity to invent their own futures. They lose touch with their own imaginations.

They live within a defined space that grows smaller as they grow older. They compromise their core freedom again and again. They train themselves to “fit in.” In fact, they become experts at fitting in, right down to what they will allow themselves to think.

They lose the desire to express their freedom. Their physical health suffers and deteriorates. Their energy drains away.

I’ve known several mainstream reporters who felt they were on the verge of a breakthrough in their work. They were investigating major stories that, when published, would punch a hole in the picture of mass reality.

These reporters felt like explorers who had found a buried treasure at the end of a long and arduous journey.

Then the bells went off and the red flags went up. Editors shut them down. The editors, said, “We can’t touch this one.”

So the reporters stopped in their tracks. They buried their files. They put themselves in harness.

This is what happens to many, many people in their lives. They suddenly sniff the air of real freedom and discovery. They climb out of the morass called consensus reality, and know why they are alive. And then they think, “What will happen if I break the pledge to remain a normal and average person? How will my friends and family and co-workers react?”

They pause.

Then they retreat. They adjust. They go back to their former role of fitting in. Their friends and family breathe a sigh of relief.

For a moment or two, a physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual crossroad had been reached. A person saw beyond the picture of ordinary reality. He saw huge open space. He knew he could act on the basis of an inner leverage that defied the laws of the material world. He knew there was a greater power within him.

But no…he wouldn’t take such a path. He would buy the reality created for him.

And then one day:

THE REALITY SALESMAN CALLS.

Step up, folks. This is a deal you can’t afford to miss. You know that thing you cling to like a drowning man in a turbulent sea?

It’s called reality, and I represent the company that manufactures it. I’m proud to say I’ve held this job for over a hundred thousand years. So as far as product knowledge is concerned, you just aren’t going to find anybody like me.

I’m here to tell you that reality is never anything more than rocks and bricks and concrete and steel. Reality is never anything more than a house and all the things in it, and the mementos you hold on to, to remind you of the past.

And in conjunction with that, I’m really selling…guess what?

A little thing called perception.

I’m selling How You See Things.

Because, no matter what time period you live in, it all comes down to that: how you see what’s in front of you.

And believe it or not, perception comes in different forms. My company makes the perception that endures. It’s the package you’re living with right now. It’s the down-to-earth here-it-is straight-ahead common-sense type. We call it: IT IS WHAT IT IS. That’s trademarked, by the way. IIWII. It is what it is.

IIWII was invented by a very smart guy whose name has been long forgotten. He was a flaming genius, and he realized something great. People would go for IIWII because it would lock them in.

Who wants to wake up on a Tuesday morning and suddenly see life in a completely different way? Who wants that kind of shock to the system?

IIWII is the most popular perception package in the universe, bar none. It has Reliability. Consistency.

All those centuries and epochs ago, when I was a rookie training for this job, the guys let me try on a whole bunch of different perception packages, so I could see what kind of competition I was up against.

I saw things I wouldn’t want to describe to you. Horrible things. And when I was given IIWII, our product, I felt like I was home.

IIWII gives you a stability you can count on for your whole life. And, believe me, that’s no small feat. We’ve built slow decay (SD) into the package, so things gradually deteriorate—because, think about it, do you really want that tree in your back yard to stay at one stage of growth forever? Do you?

IIWII is time-tested. It’s as solid as solid can be. It doesn’t break down.

But it does need vaccine boosters from time to time, and that’s why I’m here today talking to you.

Every twenty thousand years, we institute a planet-wide upgrade, just to make sure nothing goes wrong. And you’re all due.

Now, you could refuse, in which case you’ll have to take full responsibility for the ugly consequences, or you could do the right thing and just re-up. I have to tell you, our re-up rate is 99.859 percent. I’m proud of that figure.

By the way, the holdouts, the deniers, and the self-styled rebels? The governments of your planet keep close track of them. I feel obligated to let you know that. Without boosters, when your IIWII breaks down, you’re going to experience some things other people just won’t understand. And your governments will hunt you down and lock you up, or worse.

That’s not my doing, because I believe in the free market, but it’s part of my service to clue you into the whole picture.

Here’s the good part. You can get your vaccine booster now, during our pre-op special, by simply signing for it and taking the pledge, and continuing to pay a mere six percent of of your annual income for the rest of your lives. Which when you think about it, is nothing compared with what you’re getting. Again, reliability, and consistency.

In the small print, the pledge lays out a few details concerning IMAGINATION. This is for your own protection—because if you take imagination too far (and who knows how far that is, until it’s too late), you’ll set up what we call an interference field, which means IIWII will tend to malfunction. You don’t want that.

So here’s the contract and the pledge. Sign on the dotted line, and pay the fee, and we’re done.

Thank you very much.

I love you guys. Really, I do. I admire your tenacity and your willingness to stay with our package. Our company continues to prosper because of you. Visit the IIWII website and Facebook page and find out about upcoming picnics and vacation tours. We’re hosting booster events at thousands of locations.

If you don’t come to us, we’ll come to you.

We’ve got you on our list.

THE PLEDGE: “I promise not to mess with the perception package. When I take this vaccine that installs and boosts the package, I understand that I must report all suspicious activity to Central Planning. If I believe someone is operating outside the boundaries of the package, spewing strange ideas, defecting, I will report him or her promptly. If I myself stray, I will turn myself in and receive treatment. If not, I understand I will be hunted down like a dog. All hail to the IIWII perception package!”

The reality salesman knows what he’s doing. He makes a very good living. Secretly, he knows our perception of our own lives and futures is grossly limited by his product, just as our eyes can only see part of the light spectrum. He is aware of this.

He’s selling limitation.

He works for a set of controllers. The controllers have long since realized that the package they’re selling cements their hegemony and their power.

The one crack in their armor is our inner conviction that we can create new realities that go beyond what we ordinarily perceive.

And so they do everything in their power to indoctrinate us in a planetary cult of self-regulation, wherein we try to pull down “defectors” and rebels into a common swamp of acceptance and acquiescence.

In other words, the controllers need us to police ourselves.

And this is called Life.

It’s essentially a cartoon. Yes, it can be a vicious and nasty and inhibiting animation, but it’s a cartoon nonetheless, when is all is said and done.

Whether we sit still for it or break out is entirely up to us. It’s our choice.

Jon Rappoport

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29^th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at www.nomorefakenews.com