~a short story~
by Jon Rappoport
January 2, 2019
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Voices in an office…
“We can frame the boundaries of manufactured reality. We can stage events and actual happenings. But we also have to infiltrate SUBJECTIVE PERCEPTION and fold it into the overall setup—not that we actually produce every single private thought or image or idea, but we insert seeds that bloom inside the mind, and then when they come to fruition, they appear to be OBJECTIVE EVENTS.”
“We’ll eventually have a magnificent official religion lowered without blood on the population, wireless connections that spark between brains, people will worship an unknown deity, we’ll deliver ‘booster shots’, transmitted bursts of compressed pseudodata.”
“The medical op is important…insert genes, inject deadly chemicals, weakens immune systems, spray them with cancer cells, roll synthetic lumps of disease into dark cities at 4am, calls them a cancer vaccine.”
“People line up to get born into the Earth-op-scene like countless dreamers standing at the edge of the same dream, and only some realize they can make it, can step forward, the rest just watch…you can get in if you TRY…no guarantee though…if you make it, you’re smack in the middle of the WAR SEX RELIGION MONEY movie…”
“We need layers on layers of agents and dupes and cutouts to do our work for us. Impenetrable. We teach them how to run an op. The plan, the execution, the cover story, the fake identities, the false trails, the limited hangouts.”
“We need an information machine to dispense these cover stories to the public. It’ll be called THE NEWS. It’ll seem to come from different sources, but every major story will turn out to be the same, from all the news outlets. The news machine will blanket the planet.”
“We need to keep the population in a state of confusion and doubt, an outer shell within which they believe they can find security. They’re always burrowing further IN, into smaller and smaller spaces to find safety.”
“Each individual has enormous hidden power, but we’ll keep that walled off from them…it’s our most important goal.”
“We’ll promote the idea that an individual reclaiming his own power and imagination is violating a natural law and trying to become a god against God.”
Silence.
The voices went away.
In the next office, a man whose job it was to sweep floors and mop the hallways was taking a break. He was sitting at a desk sleeping. In his dream, he heard the voices.
He woke up.
He tried to remember what he heard.
“WAR SEX RELIGION MONEY.” All interesting subjects, but it seemed the words had been spoken in a curious way, as if they were themes for an enterprise, part of a calculated plan.
A vision rose in his mind.
A movie in the world. The world in a movie. A movie springing from a single point, blossoming into four dimensions, for everyone.
Seeing this vision, he could back up from it.
He was sitting in a Void. Yet he was still in the office.
He glanced over at his mop and pail in the corner.
The mop spoke to him. It said, “This is your role. Drudgery.”
He blinked.
A word with torn edges of flame came rising up toward him, faster and faster:
NO.
(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, The Matrix Revealed, click here.)
Jon Rappoport
The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th 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 NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.
“We’ll promote the idea that an individual reclaiming his own power and imagination is violating a natural law and trying to become a god against God.”
…
” And we’ll promote a false opposition set of movements, ID politics groups, that proclaim anyone can develop, grow, realize unlimited potential, within their movement! People won’t know they are being conned and deprived of genuine opportunities. The true door to immense personal power will be lost, obscured by proliferation, the thirty two flavors of ID politics and official orthodox false movements and religions. And all the while we are growing learned helplessness in the masses. The sensation of the moment will shoot them down! Hollywood is in sync. Icarus and Daedalus are not flying out of our matrix, on the wings of their own individual creativity. Individual creativity is road kill.”
I like this – a lot….
Hello!… Details lesha…The war part, the sex part? It was the money part, right!
“[…] A word with torn edges of flame came rising up toward him, faster and faster:
NO.”
And why have I choose this? I keep trying to forget myself. It never works. I always figure it out before the end. I’ve had to come up with a complex and fluid method to avoid the secret being learned far too soon. Death only supplies a pause to it…
I wonder if I can forget forever that I am?
These seconds between minutes, unaccounted for that I take advantage of, to come back to me.
I hear them blab on about this silly game of… “We really, really would like to become a type one civilization. And ah…”
Slipping back to the time before all this, the air was fresh and had never been breathed. The vastness of it all; the silence, that reigned for a ten thousand miles; still, blue and a yellow sun, a sharp and crisp reality, newly invented — hearing a ripple on a mirrored lake a mile from were I stood. To own everything, the whole planet, the whole starry dingle. My desire my possession.
They bore me now.
The first act of creation: someone like me, but more beautiful, rounded and robust with a tender smile and soft gentle voice to half the depth of mine. Fair haired, and shocking beauty, lucid green eyes to fall into and wet warmth of living flesh. Breathe like an infant scented in a hint of lavender. And laughter, rolling as water over stone. And a unmeasured love.
The fascination with the animate.
And then another and another, and soon it was a crowd and I had children, hundreds of them. And the silence that was faded to a noise and this world began. It wasn’t important enough to tell them what I was — then they built the matrix.
I walk amongst them and they don’t know who I am…the names the past atrocities and malfeasance, the starts and stops, again and again; the anger and destruction, and fresh starts…again.
I’m bored with it all.
But I keep coming back again and again….I take ten thousand years off — go into a deep slumber, for a while and then…
You see, it is about how long you can forget.