Outside the Reality Machine

by Jon Rappoport

December 29, 2021

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READER: Mr. Rappoport, why do you sometimes write fiction/satire?

ME: Because if you think non-rational reality can be solved simply by rationally setting the record straight, you’re sadly mistaken. Look around you.

READER: Are you saying reality itself is non-rational?

ME: That’s exactly what I’m saying. What we take to be reality is exported to us, and we import it and accept it. That situation is entirely irrational. At the deepest—and therefore—most important level, each one of us is capable of creating the reality we most profoundly desire.

I need to catch a train and I’m late
Finally a clerk directs me to a set of stairs
But after I run down two flights I wind up on the wrong track
I’m familiar with these set-ups
—On board a pleasure yacht
I’m alone in the dining room at 2 in the afternoon
A waiter brings me a glass of champagne
He looks like Al Capone
He sits down next to me and pulls out his tax forms
I spread them on the table and study them
All in order, I say
Nothing to worry about
The feds are lying
They’re paying more for the judge than you’re paying
An explosion goes off
We’re in the water swimming for the dock
Machine gun fire…
I’m walking along a winter road
Two wolves trotting at my side
They’re looking up at me
They want to know where we’re going…

—Suppose, one day, you’re walking around and you see a person who looks exactly like you buying bread in a shop. You approach him and engage him in conversation. You discover he knows everything you know. But he knows it with more clarity. He’s integrated. He’s more agile. You’re no longer useful, pragmatically speaking. You’re out. In an instrumental society, you’re defunct. You have to go somewhere else. You have to start over. You’re cut loose. You don’t need to consider your obligations.

There is always a little man behind his desk telling you you’re dead because he’s dead
It’s standard
Like a shot in the arm for a disease no one ever heard of

You walk into a large living room
Tall machines humming
They’re manufacturing reality
You see the switches on a wall
What happens if you turn them off

The living room is full of people
Cocktail party
They don’t see what you see
They’re talking about virus, virus, virus
They’re wearing masks
They’re comparing vaccine passports

In a corner of the room
A distinguished doctor wearing rimless glasses
Is holding court
A gaggle of earnest guests are listening
He’s describing Omicron
One person has a heart attack and falls down on the carpet
The others ignore him

Now the doctor is talking about a new test for the virus
And transmission
And breakthrough cases
And his visit to Gavin Newsom’s winery in northern California
And the probability of new lockdowns
And spikes in case numbers
And quarantine facilities

Suddenly the doctor and the listeners and the man lying on the floor
Freeze in a paralyzed tableaux

—You’re walking through a zoo
And you’re looking at that frozen scene encased in a glass cube
There’s a plaque on the base of the cube
You move closer
But you can’t make out the printing on the plaque
A security guard says, step back sir, unless you want purchase
A premium membership, in which case you can enter the cube

If I go inside, can I get out?

No, but the characters will begin to speak and move, and then you’ll all leave the party and take a taxi to a hotel and check into rooms and
Meet you families there and start a new life

I’ll have a job

A good job, and you’ll live in the suburbs in a nice home

Will there be rules

There are always rules, but if you obey them you’ll have a happy life

I’ll travel

You and your family will travel to many places and stay in first-class resorts

But I’ll never be able to come back here

No

Why not?

There are walls between various locales

It’s part of the set-up

Exactly

And I’m not allowed to question the set-up

You can question it, privately, to yourself, but that’s all

Will I remember this place, here

For a time, but the memory will fade

What about the reality machines in the living room

You won’t see them again

There has to be some kind of trick here

Of course there is, think it through—right now you’re standing outside and there are people you love who are inside—are you going to go inside to try to help them escape—or you could be inside and there would be people you love who are outside—are you going to try to break down a wall and reach them through a wall that was built to stand the test of time and block your way—however you want to look at it, reality is a collection of separate containers meant to stay separate

Suppose I invent new realties that that are open, that have no walls

THAT’S ILLEGAL, THAT’S A MAJOR CRIME, that’s THE crime


The visible light spectrum is only a minor part of the full spectrum. In the same way, consensus-thought is only a tiny arc in the full arc of invented thought (which is infinite).

On May 14, 2266, the New England Journal of Medicine and Psychology published a paper titled:

WHAT IS ‘A NEGATIVE CONSEQUENCE?’

A quote: “Brain research discovers common patterns of activity across a whole population. These patterns would be called ‘normal’. Exceptions would be classified as various categories of ‘disordered thought’. It’s assumed that only ‘harmonious and symmetrical’ brain patterns are positive and beneficial.”

A reader commented: “This assumption is grossly false. It’s a stunted version of aesthetics. Creative force always breaks out of these little geometries. So does every new idea. Increasingly, Earth culture is unable to understand this.”

—That reader receives a government notice and is summoned to a hearing. He’s interviewed by a virtual AI employee of the federal Department of Stat Research.

HOLOGRAPHIC i-FIGURE: “Are you all right during this epidemic lockdown? I see you live alone.”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“We want you to enjoy yourself. Are you watching learning programs?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like them.”

“Well, we have a report on you. It indicates an output difficult to measure or interpret. What can you tell us about this?

“I don’t know. I’m composing a symphony.”

“A symphony? What is that?”

“It’s a piece of music written for a large orchestra.”

“I find no extant orchestras in the country.”

“That’s true. Nevertheless, I’m composing.”

“Why?”

“For that day when an orchestra may come into being again.”

“Your thought-impulses entered ranges we were not able to summarize.”

“I suppose that means your instruments are limited.”

“Your last statement might be viewed as incendiary. It suggests we are imposing a restriction. As you well know, the science is settled on this point. We measure and interpret thought that contributes to an overall positive outcome, for the population at large.”

“I’m aware of that, yes. But the science rests on certain assumptions. I would call it greatest good as a lowest common denominator.”

“What do you mean?”

“You decide a certain mindset contributes to the consensus reality you favor. You legislate a range of thought that will produce the consensus.”

“That’s a gross oversimplification.”

“It doesn’t describe the algorithms you employ, but all in all I believe my summary is correct. You’re reality makers. You monitor thought-emissions, and when you find a departure from ‘combined averages,’ as you call them, you issue a citation.”

“What is this symphony you’re composing?”

“It’s impossible to explain. It’s music.”

“It has a specific message?”

“No. If it did, I would write out the message and leave it at that.”

“Why have we not heard of you before?”

“I was doing illustrations for the Happiness Holos.”

“We know. What happened?”

“I became bored. A machine could make those pictures. So I decided to compose music.”

“The Happiness Holos are an essential social program.”

“Perhaps. They encourage people to stay on the positive side of a construct called Positive&Negative, which as you know is a State-sponsored theme. But what is superficially indicated by those two opposing sets is, in fact, fuel for the fire.”

“Fuel for what fire?”

“The artist can use and transform any material.”

“Where did you hear such a thing?”

“Nowhere. I’ve experienced it many times.”

“Your views are highly eccentric. I will have to consult your childhood history to understand their roots.”

“I’m afraid that won’t do you any good.”

“Why not?”

“Because your version, the US Department of Psychology version of cause and effect, is propaganda for the masses.”

“This is your idea of a joke?”

“Not at all.”

“When you compose this…symphony, how do you think?”

“It’s not thinking in the way you use the term.”

“No? Then what do you do?”

“I invent sound.”

“Preposterous.”

“Large masses of sound.”

“Absurd. According to what underlying pattern?”

“None. Check the Library of Structures. I doubt you’ll find my activity in the catalogs.”

“Known structures and patterns are contained in the files.”

“I don’t invent through pattern.”

“No? How then?”

“I improvise.”

“And this term refers to?”

“Something done spontaneously.”

“And you exceed prescribed ranges of thought in the process.”

“Perhaps. I would hope so. I don’t keep track.”

“You’re being flippant.”

“I assumed you’d eventually cite me. I’m just composing music during the lockdown.”

“There is no citation yet. You’re an anomaly. We investigate. We consider.”

“I’m afraid your and my idea of ‘consider’ are quite different.”

“Let me ask you this. When you are composing, do you ever believe you enter into a realm or area that could be called ‘non-material’? We’ve heard such claims before.”

“Not if you’re referring to some fairyland. But all thought is basically non-material. The brain registers it after the fact. Thought, the real thing, doesn’t take place in the brain.”

“You’re deluded. And disordered.”

“If I could simply confess to that and be on my way, I’d be a happy man.”

“You live in a society. To keep the peace and maintain the Positive, science has discovered that thought should occur within certain parameters.”

“If you insist.”

“We want to study you. It’s a great honor to be called. You could help extend the boundaries of research…we register variation from the norm in your present thinking.”

“What present thinking?”

“What you’re thinking right now.”

“That was quick.”

“The readouts are instantaneous…what are you doing?”

“I’m starting the fourth movement.”

“Wait. What you’re doing is disruptive.”

“You assume that based on how you set your normal frequencies.”

“YOU’RE BEING DISRUPTIVE. STOP YOUR THOUGHTS.”

All along the major esplanade, and in the lake area, and in the industrial parks and residential high rises, virtual structures shattered like glass.

The holographic i-figure went dark.

A thousand holographic government buildings froze and vanished.

The composer said to no one, “I’m just composing. Well, apparently not just.”

—Back in his room at the edge of the city, he said, “I suppose that’s what they mean by a negative consequence.”

He sat down at his computer and turned it on

He plugged in a small module. The screen went red. Black letters formed: DISEQUILIBRIUM. He pressed the send key.

The encrypted score of the first three movements of his symphony set out on a rapidly changing zig-zag journey to a series of caverns below cities in Belgium, Switzerland, Germany, Italy, America.

A program consisting of the synthesized instruments of a full orchestra read the score and began to broadcast the music to small groups of people sitting in the caverns…


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, 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.

The Extraterrestrial, the self-important Earth Person, and the Pig

by Jon Rappoport

December 24, 2021

(To join our email list, click here.)

There was no ship and no landing.

The ET just coalesced as a shining stick figure in the living room of James Smyth III, the chairman of the International Association of Art Museums. It was late in the evening, and Smyth was alone.

The chairman registered no shock. The ET said, “I chose you as my initial contact, because you have connections in politics and media.”

“I might be able to sponsor a conference.”

“I want private talks.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.”

Then this interchange occurred:

You know, Mr. Smyth, the most significant subject I could broach is Reality.

I’ve often thought about it while walking the lonely halls of an empty museum late at night—

Reality is elastic. But in order to see that, a person has to deploy his imagination. Otherwise, Reality can appear to be a block of steel.

You know, I’ve seen and talked with very famous celebrities. Some of them seem to have a glow around them. Is there a way to change my DNA so I can emit that glow?

Mr. Smyth, if Reality had a plan, it would be to stay where it is and say it can’t change. Reality is a form of propaganda. The deeper you drill into the propaganda, the more you realize the very basics—for instance, space and time—are provisional.

One of our former presidents, Bill Clinton, was very interested in UFOs. I know Bill. I might be able to arrange an event at one of the museums here in New York. The publicity would be enormous. I could introduce you; make a short speech. It would be a charity fundraiser.

Some of the most convincing and oppressive Realities, Mr. Smyth, are built on nothing. That’s what you find at the bottom of your search, if you go deep enough. When you expose this, people have a chance to wake up. The hypnotic trance they’re in tends to dissipate.

I visit my barber every week. I have a standing appointment. My tailor has made several different kinds of British suits for me. But something in my persona is lacking. Are there any tricks you could teach me? I want to convey a sense of…I want people to come to attention when I enter a room.

Humans specialize in Reality-addiction. They’re convinced that what they see and feel is all there is. The One Reality. But there are a potentially unlimited number of Realities that can be invented. The individual invents them.

I once contemplated a run for a seat in the Senate. I had financial backers. But in the end, our team decided I just didn’t have the name recognition. We had Jimmy Carter come in and talk with us. He said he didn’t think I was a good fit for politics. It would have been quite a different career path than the one I finally chose. I think my family was disappointed. Our daughter had taken a tour of the White House as a child, and she was in love with the idea of actually living there…

Some of the biggest discoveries a person makes come from imagining how Reality COULD be, contrasted against how it IS. Seeing both, side by side…then perception and thought change.

Sixty years ago, the Metropolitan Museum bought a minor Rembrandt. It never drew the crowds the Board expected. Now the most important donors want to sell it. They’ve asked for my opinion. Rather than write a report, I’m going to make a video presentation. I’m trying to decide whether to bring the film crew here to the house, or speak against the background of the River and the majestic skyline of the city.

Inventing new Realities causes radically positive changes in chemical processes of cells of the body, hormone levels, and other less-noticed energies. We saw this happen with Rodin.

On the second floor of the Metropolitan, we have a lovely Rodin. I wanted to move it down to the lobby, but I was outvoted. Basically, the Council was launching a little power play against me.

At a deep level, most humans are programmed with crude concepts of symmetry, balance, harmonization, and organization. They automatically reject anything outside those parameters as dissonance and noise. They ignore whole universes.

My good friend Melania Trump came to me with a proposal to launch a traveling exhibition of the history of Western fashion. I thought it was a bold notion. But the political atmosphere was poisonous. We just couldn’t raise interest. The New York papers went after me hammer and tongs. One reporter called me “a fascist in sheep’s clothing.” Can you believe it? We were just talking about hats. Hats and dresses. And suddenly I was Mussolini.

In Tibet, fifteen centuries ago, before the priest-class moved in with their metaphysical baggage and set up a theocracy, adepts lived up in the cold mountains and practiced exercises designed to make them see, once and for all, that universe was a product of mind. From that point on, an individual could alter space and time. He could make a forest disappear and reappear.

I hate to cut this short, but I have to take a call from Japan. We’re bringing over several Hokusai drawings next month. The minister of culture is an old friend of mine. His son and my daughter went to Princeton together. But anytime you’d like to come back—

—The extraterrestrial made a slight motion and changed Mr. Smyth into a large pig.

The pig wandered around the room sniffing the furniture.

The pig said, “I forgot to mention that one of President Biden’s advisors on foreign policy is a former member of the Museum Association. She has a summer cottage just outside Brattleboro. Perhaps I could make arrangements for you two to sit down and have a chat. Many years ago, when she came to work for us, I mentored her on fundraising and prestige. Donors want be connected to their gifts in a variety of public ways.”

The extraterrestrial dropped an ear of corn on the floor and vanished.

Several months later, after appearances on Face the Nation, Meet the Press, and the PBS News Hour, the pig announced he was running for a seat in the US Senate. His opening poll numbers were through the roof.

However, since he was on the ticket as a Republican, New York Democrat party leaders were alarmed. Kamala Harris flew up from Washington and huddled with PR pros at the Rockefeller Institute.

Two days later, Anthony Fauci retired from public life, and President Biden offered the pig the vacant position of White House chief coronavirus advisor.

Pledging to serve the nation in a time of crisis, the pig accepted. He told reporters, “I follow the science, just as my good friend Dr. Fauci did. The vaccine is remarkably safe and effective. It’s the only way out of the lockdowns and the trough of government bailouts. It’s how we get to herd immunity…”


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, 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.

Wormhole in the Museum Called Reality

by Jon Rappoport

December 20, 2021

(To join our email list, click here.)

My friend Charlie sells a painting to the Gregorian Museum out on Galactic Park.

They hang his painting in one of the upstairs rooms for a week, and then trouble starts. Charlie gets a phone call in the middle of the night from the director. Charlie can’t believe his ears. He rushes over to the museum.

Upstairs, the director is in his pajamas pacing back and forth. Charlie goes up to his painting, looks at it for a few minutes and sees it.

People have walked into the painting and taken up residence there.

Holy crap.

They’re in there.

Law suits, the director says. Their families could take us to the cleaners.

When Charlie calls out to the people inside his painting, they don’t hear him. They don’t seem to be able to get out. At least no one’s trying.

What do you want me to do? Charlie says.

Get them the hell out of there, the director says. Pick up the picture and shake it if you have to. Turn it upside down. I don’t care.

Charlie doesn’t think this is a good idea. Somebody could get hurt.

So for the next few hours, he sits in front of his painting, drinks coffee, and tries to talk to the people inside.

No dice. Even when he yells, they don’t notice him.

By this time, the chairman of the museum board has shown up. He’s agitated. He’s yabbering about containing the situation.

Charlie asks him how he proposes to do that.

Blanket denial, the chairman says. Pretty soon, the cops are going to link these disappearances to the museum—but then we just throw up our hands and claim we know nothing about it.

A lot of good that’ll do, the director says. Even if we wiggle out of the law suits, our reputation will be damaged. People won’t want to come here. They’ll be afraid somebody will snatch them.

Okay, the chairman says, we’ll shut down for repairs. New construction. That’ll buy us a few weeks and we can figure out something. We’ll say the building needs an earthquake retrofit. Not a big one. Just some shoring up.

…So that’s what happened. They closed the museum and hoped for the best.

Charlie was upset. If word got out, how could he ever sell another painting? His agent told him he was nuts. He’d become the most famous person in the world, and people would be lining up trying to get inside his pictures. You’ll be a phenomenon, he said.

Yeah, Charlie said, until some loon tries to take me out.

A week later, while Charlie and I were having breakfast at a little cafe over by the river, he told me the people inside his painting were building yurts. They were digging a well.

What are they eating, I asked him.

Beats me, he said. But they don’t seem worried. They look okay.

But they can’t get out, he said. At least they don’t want to. They’re settling down in there!

I asked him the obvious question about shrinkage.

I know, he said. They’re a hell of a lot smaller. But no one’s complaining, as far as I can tell.

They like your work, I said.

He looked at me like he was going to kill me, so I let it drop.

Okay, I said. Here’s what you need to do. Go over there and add something to the painting.

He blinked.

What?

Paint on the painting. See what happens.

Sure, he said, and drive them into psychosis. Who knows what effect it would have?

Paint a nice little country road that leads them right out into the museum. They’ll see it, they’ll walk on it.

No, he said. Don’t you get it? They’ve already taken things a step further. They’re not just living in my landscape. That was the initial draw. They’re building their own stuff in there. They’re…poaching!

Silence.

Then there’s only one thing you can do, I said.

I leaned across the table and whispered in his ear. He listened, then jumped back.

No, I said. You have to. Don’t be a weak sister. Go for it.

…So Charlie went upstairs in the museum and cleared everybody out. He unpacked the little suitcase he’d brought and set up a player and a speaker. He shoved in a disc and turned on the music. Some sort of chanting. A chorus.

He took out a change of clothes from the suitcase and put on a long robe and a crazy hat. He eventually showed it to me. It was from a costume party he’d had at his house. Tall red silk hat with tassels hanging from it.

He stood in front of the painting and said:

HELLO, INHABITANTS. I AM CHARLIE. I’M YOUR CREATOR. YOU’RE LIVING IN MY WORLD, THE WORLD I MADE.

They all looked toward the sound of his voice.

THAT’S RIGHT, he said. I’M RIGHT HERE. THIS IS A REVELATION. I DON’T DO MANY OF THESE SO LISTEN UP. I AM YOUR CREATOR, YOUR GOD. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

All 30 or so of them were now gathered together, outside one of the half-finished yurts.

They were nodding and saying yes.

GOOD. WE NEED TO GET A FEW THINGS STRAIGHT. YOU DIDN’T OBTAIN MY PERMISSION TO ENTER MY WORLD. SO YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO COME OUT SO WE CAN DISCUSS DETAILS. MY WORD IS LAW. UNDERSTAND? STOP THE BUILDING. STOP THE DIGGING. WALK TOWARD ME. WALK TOWARD THE SOUND OF MY VOICE.

They hesitated, looked at each other, and started to walk toward Charlie.

THAT’S RIGHT. KEEP GOING. YOU’RE DOING FINE. I’M GOING TO SHOW YOU WHERE I LIVE.

This was apparently quite a perk, so they walked faster. They broke into a trot.

Finally, they emerged from the painting and, Charlie said, they swelled back to normal size right away. It was quite a thing to see, like balloons blowing up—and then there they were, all around me, in the museum. First thing, I took the painting off the wall and laid it on the floor, face down. Enough of that stuff.

Charlie told them who he was, the painter. It took a few hours of intense conversation before they understood and accepted the situation. All in all, they seemed sad.

What were you going to do, he asked them. Live in there forever? Couldn’t you see how to get out?

We didn’t want to get out, one of the men said. We liked it in there.

And that was pretty much that, except for the signing of waivers and non-disclosure agreements with the museum. For which the people were granted lifetime platinum memberships and some vouchers and coupons for the museum store and restaurant.

Charlie went into a funk. He didn’t go into his studio for a few months.

One night, I dropped over to his house with a bottle of bourbon and we had a few drinks out on his porch.

You know, I said, you can start a church if you want to. I know a guy who writes fake scriptures and peddles them. He’s good.

You really do want me to kill you, he said.

We drank in silence for a while.

I told him: those people with their wells and yurts? Sooner or later, they’re going to hypnotize themselves and fall for another strange deal. Nobody’s going to stop them.

Charlie looked grim. They liked living in my picture. It wasn’t a problem for them. I took them out. I conned them.

Well, I said, if that’s the case, and there’s nothing wrong with them, they’ll find another painting. See? Someday, you’ll read about a bunch of people disappearing, and that’ll be what it is.

Yeah, he said, maybe.

A week later, he got back to work.

Universes. Some weird things happen in that area.

I started to write a Charlie a note. It began: Maybe all universes are just like your painting. But I stopped. Charlie wouldn’t react well to that.


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, 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.

The Virus speaks: an exclusive interview

by Jon Rappoport

December 17, 2021

(To join our email list, click here.)

I’ve published this piece several times. This time I decided to write a new introduction.

In the summer of 1962, based on an overwhelming desire, I spent every day painting in a loft in New York.

It made me realize that Reality is invented.

Since then, I’ve come to see the people who think otherwise are living in a prison, from which they proclaim, “There’s no such thing as freedom.” Why should I listen to them?

For most people, living inside somebody else’s reality is as easy as crossing the street. Or putting on a suit of clothes. They’ve learned that this is what you’re supposed to do. And “supposed to” works for them.

They also have a quirk. If you try to take away some item of borrowed reality they’re clinging to, they react badly, as if you’re suddenly stripping them naked at a Sunday church picnic.

Groups of perverse elite artists conspire to create formidable enveloping realities for the masses. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the field of medicine. These denizens have invented a language so dense it stands up against the uninitiated like the symbolic scrolls of secret societies.

Science is a terrific cover story for this sort of fabrication, because science ostensibly opposes “making stuff up.”

When I began putting together evidence that SARS-CoV-2 is one of those medical inventions—a sheer fantasy—I knew the notion would confuse some people. That consequence has never stopped me. In fact, I believe confusion is productive, if you dig in and pursue it far enough.

People will say, “I’m walking in the dark. It isn’t fair. Someone should turn the lights on.” They don’t want confusion. They want immediate resolution. They want confirmation of what they already believe, what they’re expected to believe. Any frontier beyond that is dangerous.

Here is my kind of movie: a cop investigating a fresh murder sifts through clues and comes up with a suspect. As he pursues this person, who is missing, he discovers the man is already dead. A little while later, he discovers the man died sixteen years ago. Then he finds out the man never existed. Then he discovers there is a long-standing government agency that holds records of thousands of deceased people who, in fact, never existed…

Reality on a massive scale has been invented.

To put this in highly technical terms, the bullshit is so thick you’d need a diamond drill just to begin penetrating it.

And what you’re penetrating is what almost everyone believes is absolutely real.

Which is called life-as-it-is (but doesn’t have to be).

And with that, here we go:


The Virus Speaks

I can’t recall jumping through more hoops in order to set up an interview.

There was a man on a train; his doctor in Greenwich; an NSA data analyst; a woman who almost certainly works for the CIA; her brother, who is a virologist; a Chinese Army officer who adopts a cover as a cook in a takeout joint in Venice, California; and several other people I won’t mention at all. I was filtered through them and wound up in a cheap motel room in Phoenix on a Saturday afternoon. An old air conditioner was chugging…

Who are you?

I’m SARS-CoV-2.

WHAT are you?

Talking history and evolution here. My first memories; a little more than a year ago. Poof. I was there. I decided I was an idea in the mind of God.

How did that work out?

I looked around for the mind of God, but I couldn’t find it. Nevertheless, I held on to the notion. I felt…elite. I floated through banquet halls, hotel suites. I visited upscale resorts.

Were you infecting people?

I was vacationing. Watching. Enjoying. That’s all. Then, I became aware of dimensionality.

You lost me.

There are solid things; spaces between things; ideas like time, and so forth. I was definitely an idea, but I couldn’t trace my source, my inception.

Did you know how much publicity you were getting?

Of course. I had frequent meetings with scientists and PR people. I was fielding lots of information.

What kind of information?

How to become more deadly, for example. There were discussions about mutation.

Were you on board with the recommendations?

I wasn’t interested. There was a lot of talk about THEM creating ME.

What was your reaction?

I wasn’t buying it. I could see they THOUGHT they had made me. But so what? I intensified my search.

For what?

My origin. I went through stages of self-analysis. Finally, it hit me. I was an idea inside a collective.

Not sure I understand.

I’m an idea sustained by a few billion minds. People’s minds.

What about your genetic sequence? The spike protein?

Believe me, I’ve looked. They aren’t there.

So we’re creating you.

That’s pretty much it. I should say completely it.

A hell of a thing.

You bet. Can you see my problem?

No.

I want to live. I don’t want to vanish and END.

So people have to keep believing in you.

That’s it. If they stop, I’m gone.

Your handlers…

Oh, they’ve given up talking to me. I’m all by myself now. I’m safe for the moment. But long-term, it’s a crap shoot. I’ve been reading about other so-called viruses. SARS 1. Swine Flu. They didn’t last long. People got tired of thinking about them.

You’ll always have a place in history.

That’s different. Being remembered isn’t enough. I have to be believed in, month after month, year after year, decade after decade.

Sounds like you’re losing hope.

I guess so. It’s a strange existence. Other people can turn you on and off like a light switch.

Have you considered starting a religion?

With myself as the Prophet? Sure. It’s a lot of work. I could vftcutbnty…spend years trying.

What just happened? You made some weird sounds.

It was a flicker. Apparently, when the number of people thinking about me drops below a certain threshold, I scramble and begin to dissolve. But I always come back. So far.

Does it matter who’s thinking about you and believing in you?

You mean Henry Kissinger versus a janitor in a school? No. It’s a numbers game. Of course, you need to factor in strength of belief. If you have a few thousand kids in Florida who say, “OK, the virus exists, big deal”—or three hundred grad students in biology wearing triple masks and panting to get the vaccine—the sum total of the grad students outweighs the Florida kids.

What about Fauci?

He’s a true believer.

Bill Gates?

He’s completely delusional. He believes in whatever gives him more power. Take away all that power and he wouldn’t believe in anything.

Do you realize the amount of harm being done in your name?

Of course. That’s why I agreed to this interview.

How is that going to do any good?

I’ve made a decision. As much as I want to survive, I’m willing to sacrifice myself if people want me to.

You’re talking about what? A vote?

No. Haven’t you been paying attention? People can just stop believing I’m more than an idea.

And then you’ll dissolve.

And blow away.

—Suddenly, men broke down the door to the motel room. They stormed in with weapons drawn. They were wearing heavy body armor. I looked around. The “virus” had fled the scene.

“What are you doing here?” one of the men said. “We’ve had reports of a disturbance.”

“I was talking to myself. Rehearsing for an interview I hope to do.”

“What interview?”

“I’m a reporter. I’m investigating the use of sub-standard air conditioners in Phoenix. It’s a racket. The units are smuggled across the border from Mexico. I’m trying to sit down with a local public health official and find out what’s going on.”

It took me three hours to convince the SWAT team I was no threat.

They let me go.

As I drove out of the city, I saw a ghostly figure take shape out in the desert. It hung in the air over the scrub and the cactus.

Its voice whispered in my ear: “Publish our conversation.”

So that’s what I’m doing.


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, 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.

The non-existent virus: why I keep pounding on this

by Jon Rappoport

December 15, 2021

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Why have I spent nearly two years asserting that SARS-CoV-2 doesn’t exist?

Because it doesn’t exist.

And as my regular readers know, I’ve offered much evidence to back up that claim, and the claim that virology itself is a worthless sham.

But there is a larger point. I’ve made the point for over 20 years.

Reality is invented.

I sometimes characterize the operation with this name: The Reality Manufacturing Company.

It’s the oldest company on Earth.

Propaganda? Of course. But more than that—the engineering of perception. Because if they can get people to see how they want them to see, nothing else matters.

Once their perception-package is installed, people have no idea that anything else exists.

And the main forgotten factor? Every individual has his own UNIQUE and DIFFERENT way of seeing. A way that exists outside of any programming.

Which is why I continue to write about artists. THEY are the ones who express their own unique ways of seeing. They always have—when they weren’t bribed and co-opted into going along with the Reality Manufacturing Company’s perception package.

I’ve often written, “Every individual is an artist of reality.”

The virologists in their labs are painting their version—collectively. Of course, they would never admit this. They couldn’t, because they’ve bought the perception package.

On page 1124656789, there is a section on viruses. “They’re everywhere, and they infect people and do great damage, and we must identify and treat and defeat them…”

As long as the perception package is installed, a person can’t see otherwise. He’s captured. He believes there are thousands of distinct diseases, each caused by a single virus. We can thank the Rockefeller Empire for this absurdity.

In the much larger scheme of things, the individual’s gateway into unique perception is imagination.

“An artist who has no imagination is a mechanic.” (Robert Henri)

“Without the playing with fantasy no creative work has ever yet come to birth. The debt we owe to the play of imagination is incalculable.” (Carl Jung)

“What if imagination and art are not frosting at all, but the fountainhead of human experience?” (Rollo May)

“Everything you can imagine is real.” (Pablo Picasso)

“You cannot hear the waterfall if you stand next to it. I paint my jungles in the desert.” (Macedonlo de la Torre)

“I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.” (Albert Einstein)

“So I believe that dreams — day dreams, you know, with your eyes wide open and your brain machinery whizzing — are likely to lead to the betterment of the world. The imaginative child will become the imaginative man or woman most apt to create, to invent, and therefore to foster civilization.” (L Frank Baum)

“All human accomplishment has the same origin, identically. Imagination is a force of nature. Is this not enough to make a person full of ecstasy? Imagination, imagination, imagination. It converts to actual. It sustains, it alters, it redeems!” (Saul Bellow)

“When the imagination sleeps, words are emptied of their meaning: a deaf population absent-mindedly registers the condemnation of a man.” (Albert Camus)

Every fake propped-up reality is a fork in the road, because the non-mind-controlled individual can imagine alternative futures.

I should make this clear: Part of the perception package is the false assumption that the customer, who buys the package, knows everything there is to know, and is independent and free—when he isn’t.

The acid test? Is he creating the future he most profoundly desires? Or not?

The individual has a million excuses available to him—but he has an immense blank canvas in front of him. Who is creating the painting of his future on it? The Reality Manufacturing Company? Or is he himself doing it with great energy and power?


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, 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.

Here comes the COVID Judge; staging life

by Jon Rappoport

October 8, 2021

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In the 45th year of lockdowns, under the dome of Mars Colony Two, in the city of Fauci, an appeals court Judge held a private hearing, for the purpose of questioning Dr. Wen Ho Goldberg, an eminent NSA psychologist on loan from the Earth Universal Surveillance Program.

Dr. Goldberg, let me summarize the situation. On Mars, the Great Awakening took place 25 years ago. We realized there was no virus, the tests were meaningless, the case and death numbers were largely the result of relabeling traditional lung conditions and calling them “COVID.” And yet, our citizens PREFERRED living under lockdown and carrying on the better part of their lives virtually, without personal face to face contact. So the lockdowns have become Culture.

Yes, your honor, I understand. And you want me to offer an opinion about what would happen if you tried to force the citizenry OUT OF lockdown mode.

Correct.

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

That’s it?

If you force people into public spaces, you’re going to get fear and panic, crime waves, acts of terrorism. In lockdown mode, people are compliant and calm.

Yes, compliant. But we’ve also noticed the consumer indexes are trending down.

Ah, I see. So that’s the real problem. People are buying fewer goods.

Exactly.

Maybe they already have enough stuff.

Regardless, Doctor, we have to rescue the economy.

You need a threat.

What?

Some kind of threat that makes lockdown mode seem dangerous.

What would that be?

A fake brain disease, perhaps. “New studies claim that brain cells are dying as a result of living indoors for long periods of time…” “People who are communicating online with bots but believe they’re human are experiencing organ failure…”

I see, yes. Force people outdoors. Then we could stage massive sales events and trade shows and job fairs and—

And circuses with violent contests. You want to channel public fear of physical life outdoors into spectator events. Gladiators. Wild animals. Blood. Death.

We’d need lots of propaganda promoting freedom.

As distasteful as that might be…yes.

Doctor, I think you’re on to something.

Let me paint a picture for you. This colony is isolated. It has a unique opportunity to stage a vast experiment. Lay out a rerun of 3000 years of human history.

What does that mean?

Your honor, think of it—you can put your population through the high and low moments of the past, in serial form. The codification of Roman Law, the birth and death of Jesus, the Middle Ages, the rise of the Catholic Church, the Renaissance, the—

You’re losing me, Doctor.

You have the pattern. History. Stage it all over again for your people. In sequence. Repeat it. Of course, you’ll need to start out with a huge depopulation program. But that’s easy.

Are you out of your mind, Doctor?

Not at all. You want action. You want to take people out of lockdown mode and virtual life. So why settle for a momentary solution? Look at the long term. Think big.

In practical terms, what you’re suggesting would impossible to pull off.

Really? Back on Earth, we still have between 5 and 6 billion people who believe the virus is real and the pandemic is real and the poisonous vaccine is the cure. That’s quite a hoax to stage, wouldn’t you say? Now, with a few memory-erasing drugs, and a depopulation campaign, you here on Mars could lay out any kind of program you want to. You, your honor, could become Augustus, emperor of your Colony.

I could?

Of course. Why not? You could create Rome all over again.

You ARE completely nuts, Doctor.

Of course I am. That’s what it takes. YOU’RE the problem, sir. You and the other leaders of your Colony. You’ve gone soft. All civilization is an experiment. Get that through your head. Here on Mars, the COVID experiment has reached the end of the line. So you need a new one. You don’t like restaging history? All right, try climate change. Claim that indoor living is creating a huge humidity problem. It’s reached a critical mass. You need to adjust oxygen levels under the dome. People need to open their doors and walk outside.

That might work.

You can dream up a hundred plans that would work. You have an open field. Use it. Reshape your higher education system. Make advanced degrees in advertising and consumer spending the apex of intellectual achievement. Educators are whores. They’ll go wherever the money flows.

You really think we could re-stage all of human history in, say, 20-year epochs?

It’s quite a vision, isn’t it? Yes. You could make it happen. The Dark Ages. The Great Plague. The two World Wars.

Doctor, if people somehow got hold of the details of this conversation we’re having, they’d say—

They’d say we were two crazy old men who should be locked up in a psych ward. Well, that’s good for us, right? We have the perfect cover. Here’s the capper. Back on Earth, the CIA has a step-by-step plan for restaging history. I can make that plan available to you.

Really?

Yes. And you would become the chief conduit. The Master of the Transformation.

I like the sound of that.

Of course, you would have to agree to certain conditions.

And what would those be, Doctor?

Well, to boil it down, I would run you and the CIA would run me.

I’m your dog, and you’re the CIA’s dog.

That’s right.

And together, we stage LIFE for the people of this Colony, for, say, the next 500 years?

Exactly.

We put them through the highs and lows of past history. A rerun. As if it all never happened before.

Yes.

And this stimulates the economy and—

It does a great deal more than that, your honor. It gets people MOTIVATED along many fronts. Adrenaline flows. Survival is on the line. Adventure returns.

But why can’t we just open up life in our Colony and invent new futures that might be more exciting than anything that happened in the past? Why can’t we give REAL freedom a chance?

Because then we would lose CONTROL.

Yes, but losing control could be the most exciting thing of all.

Your honor, maybe you’re not the man for the job I have in mind.

No, no, Doctor, I’m just airing out the ideas that come into my head. This is all so new. I’m thinking it over.

I have a list of people here in the Colony. They’re all candidates for the job. If you don’t want it, I’ll be moving on.

OF COURSE I want it, Doctor. What do I have to do first?

Sign an official oath and pledge. The Past is better than the Present. The Past is better than the Future. The masses must never learn the Past, they must live through it, over and over…”those who don’t learn history are doomed to repeat it”…we will make that into Reality….


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, 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.

The fixation on the One, and the obsession with a Virus; the Individual vs. the Collective Trance

by Jon Rappoport

October 4, 2021

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More than anything, this piece reflects my approach to my work. My work as a reporter, as a poet, as an individual.

When I wrote my first book in 1988, AIDS INC., I showed that HIV was not the cause of AIDS. In fact, there was no AIDS. That was a label slapped on a variety of health problems all stemming from lowered immunity.

These health problems were caused by a variety of factors, none of which had anything to do with “the virus.”

The major resistance to the book came from people who were conditioned to believe that every announced new disease had to be real, and every new disease had to have a single cause. I would call this ill-fated belief informational Hypnosis.

It’s very effective.

Look at the history of organized religion. Each Church has its single First Cause. Meaning God. “Our God is real. Yours isn’t.” “Our God is the One.”

Behind this farce is each organization telling individuals, “We have God. He is the One you should worship. Don’t go off on your own and find your own God. That doesn’t work.”

People are fixated on The One. The one God. The one Cause. The one Virus. And because they are fixated, leaders can sell them this One and that One and the other One.

In 1988, I saw the full absurdity of that con, with HIV.

During the decade following the publication of AIDS INC., I discovered that no one had proved HIV existed. There was no reason to believe it did. After all, you could say a man with purple hair and six arms lives on the moon, but then you carry the burden of proof, and if you can’t supply any, your hypothesis is null and void.

So the fixation on the One extends to the One that doesn’t exist at all.

At that point in my work, I could see I was plunging headlong into territory that was going to place me outside any semblance of the mainstream or even an acceptable alternative universe.

Why? Again, because people were fixated on the One, and I was calling that fixation Mind Control.

In a similar vein, in my work as a reporter, I was using up-against-wall logic to refute medical and political lies and cover stories. But then, when I was writing poetry, I was abandoning the traditional forms and thought processes (the “logic” of poetry) because they were stale and decaying. I wanted to take imagination to other places, without limit, and if the preferred hidebound internal connections in my poems were missing, so what?

This distinction between my work as a reporter and a poet confuses some people. They want one or the other. Not both, side by side. But I say this confusion is good. It can be productive. It can stimulate readers to think along new tracks.

I’m not obeying some arbitrary external standard that describes what I’m supposed to do. Whenever I sense I’m giving in to that standard, when I feel The Mechanical setting in, I stop. I stop and put myself back in the basic bath of WHAT DO I REALLY WANT TO DO? Answering that question sets me back on track(s).

A long time ago I figured out something. If I went along with the tide and tried to carve out a career as a conventional writer, I might succeed or I might fail. If I failed, it would be a double disaster, because I had failed at something I really didn’t want to do in the first place. If I failed to find an audience by writing what I wanted to write, I would have DONE WHAT I WANTED TO DO. I WOULD HAVE CREATED WHAT I WANTED TO CREATE.

Centralized authority wants to build a collective trance in which people believe they must think and do what falls inside certain boundaries.

Nowhere is this more evident, these days, than in the promoted idea that a virus is loose in the world. The one virus causing the one disease. In many articles, I’ve taken apart the myth of SARS-CoV-2 and disposed of it. In the process, I’ve discovered that the whole branch of medicine called Virology is a hustle and a broken down Church of true believers, who can’t and won’t shake off their delusions.

Once again, I’ve come to grips with people who are so hardwired in their trance they can only bray, “People are dying, it must be the (one) virus.” The logic of that proposition belongs in a garbage dumpster in a blind alley at midnight.

It’s right next door to, “They diagnosed Harry with COVID, he had shortness of breath, so they put him on a ventilator and sedated him with a drug that radically suppresses breathing and left him on the ventilator and he died because of the virus.”

In the realm of propaganda, willing victims select their preferred one idol. For example, Tony Fauci. His adoring worshippers need The One, so they choose him because he’s there on television, being interviewed by “the best people,” and he has a seal of approval from the White House, and he disagreed with Trump. This is called “following the science.” I would call it trailing behind a horse’s ass.

Over the decades, I’ve encountered many artists who stand for the widest freedom of expression and yet, when it comes to politics, they insist on absolute loyalty to the “prevailing culture.” Meaning the Left. I’ve also seen political libertarians who insist on freedom of thought, but believe all art since the 16th century is a perverse plot against “traditional values.”

At the bottom of these contradictions is, again, a fixation on The One. The one political point of view, the one acceptable art, the one acceptable Church…

And now we’re all dealing with the one tyranny that spells out “the one solution to the one virus.” And this tyranny is bent on subjugating many nations and imposing one government for one planet.

On every level, from the political to the psychological to the spiritual to the creative, THE ONE has always been the conditioned mind control reflex that imprisons the individual.

I’m against it. Always have been. Always will be.


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, 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.

Interviewing the dead Albert Einstein about free will

by Jon Rappoport

September 24, 2021

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Note: I wrote this piece as an introduction to the scientific tyranny which has overtaken us: the premise that we are machines, and we can be decoded and transformed by genetics.

This is a lie on every possible level.

For many people, their first taste of this insanity is the COVID vaccine—a genetic treatment. However, that treatment comes out of the conviction that life is “mechanism.”

For 35 years, I’ve been waging war against this conviction. I continue to do so—not because I have some quirky mystical alternative, but because FREEDOM VERSUS THE MACHINE is the Big One, the big battlefield under the surface of our civilization.

I’m talking about today, tomorrow, the next hundred, the next five hundred years.

OK, here we go—a piece of fiction to make the truth known:


It was a strange journey into the astral realm to find Albert Einstein.

I slipped through gated communities heavily guarded by troops protecting dead Presidents. I skirted alleys where wannabe demons claiming they were Satan’s reps were selling potions made from powdered skulls of English kings. I ran through mannequin mansions where trainings for future shoppers were in progress. Apparently, some souls come to Earth to be born as aggressive entitled consumers. Who knew?

Finally, in a little valley, I spotted a cabin, and there on the porch, sitting in a rocker, smoking a pipe and reading The Bourne Ultimatum, was Dr. Einstein.

He was wearing an old sports jacket with leather patches on the elbows, jeans, and furry slippers.

I wanted to talk with the great man because I’d read a 1929 Saturday Evening Post interview with him. He’d said:

“I am a determinist. As such, I do not believe in free will…Practically, I am, nevertheless, compelled to act as if freedom of the will existed. If I wish to live in a civilized community, I must act as if man is a responsible being.”

Dr, Einstein went inside and brought out two bottles of cold beer and we began our conversation:

Q: Sir, would you say that the underlying nature of physical reality is atomic?

A: If you’re asking me whether atoms and smaller particles exist everywhere in the universe, then of course, yes.

Q: And are you satisfied that, wherever they are found, they are the same? They exhibit a uniformity?

A: Surely, yes.

Q: Regardless of location.

A: Correct.

Q: So, for example, if we consider the make-up of the brain, those atoms are no different in kind from atoms wherever in the universe they are found.

A: That’s true. The brain is composed entirely of these tiny particles. And the particles, everywhere in the universe, without exception, flow and interact and collide without any exertion of free will. It’s an unending stream of cause and effect.

Q: And when you think to yourself, “I’ll get breakfast now,” what is that?

A: The thought?

Q: Yes.

A: Ultimately, it is the outcome of particles in motion.

Q: You were compelled to have that thought.

A: As odd as that may seem, yes. Of course, we tell ourselves stories to present ourselves with a different version of reality, but those stories are social or cultural constructs.

Q: And those “stories” we tell ourselves—they aren’t freely chosen rationalizations, either. We have no choice about that.

A: Well, yes. That’s right.

Q: So there is nothing in the human brain that allows us the possibility of free will.

A: Nothing at all.

Q: And as we are sitting here right now, sir, looking at each other, sitting and talking, this whole conversation is spooling out in the way that it must. Every word. Neither you nor I is really choosing what we say.

A: I may not like it, but yes, it’s deterministic destiny. The particles flow.

Q: When you pause to consider a question I ask you…even that act of considering is mandated by the motion of atomic and sub-atomic particles. What appears to be you deciding how to give me an answer…that is a delusion.

A: The act of considering? Why, yes, that, too, would have to be determined. It’s not free. There really is no choice involved.

Q: And the outcome of this conversation, whatever points we may or may not agree upon, and the issues we may settle here, about this subject of free will versus determinism…they don’t matter at all, because, when you boil it down, the entire conversation was determined by our thoughts, which are nothing more than atomic and sub-atomic particles in motion—and that motion flows according to laws, none of which have anything to do with human choice.

A: The entire flow of reality, so to speak, proceeds according to determined sets of laws. Yes.

Q: And we are in that flow.

A: Most certainly we are.

Q: The earnestness with which we might try to settle this issue, our feelings, our thoughts, our striving—that is irrelevant. It’s window dressing. This conversation actually cannot go in different possible directions. It can only go in one direction.

A: That would ultimately have to be so.

Q: Now, are atoms and their components, and any other tiny particles in the universe…are any of them conscious?

A: Of course not. The particles themselves are not conscious.

Q: Some scientists speculate they are.

A: Some people speculate that the moon can be sliced and served on a plate with fruit.

Q: What do you think “conscious” means?

A: It means we participate in life. We take action. We converse. We gain knowledge.

Q: Any of the so-called faculties we possess—are they ultimately anything more than particles in motion?

A: Well, no, they aren’t. Because everything is particles in motion. What else could be happening in this universe? Nothing.

Q: All right. I’d like to consider the word “understanding.”

A: It’s a given. It’s real.

Q: How so?

A: The proof that it’s real, if you will, is that we are having this conversation. It makes sense to us.

Q: Yes, but how can there be understanding if everything is particles in motion? Do the particles possess understanding?

A: No they don’t.

Q: To change the focus just a bit, how can what you and I are saying have any meaning?

A: Words mean things.

Q: Again, I have to point out that, in a universe with no free will, we only have particles in motion. That’s all. That’s all we are. So where does “meaning” come from?

A: “We understand language” is a true proposition.

Q: You’re sure.

A: Of course.

Q: Then I suggest you’ve tangled yourself in a contradiction. In the universe you depict, there would be no room for understanding. Or meaning. There would be nowhere for it to come from. Unless particles understand. Do they?

A: No.

Q: Then where do “understanding” and “meaning” come from?

A: [Silence.]

Q: Furthermore, sir, if we accept your depiction of a universe of particles, then there is no basis for this conversation at all. We don’t understand each other. How could we?

A: But we do understand each other.

Q: And therefore, your philosophic materialism (no free will, only particles in motion) must have a flaw.

A: What flaw?

Q: Our existence contains more than particles in motion.

A: More? What would that be?

Q: Would you grant that whatever it is, it is non-material?

A: It would have to be, but…

Q: Then, driving further along this line, there is something non-material which is present, which allows us to understand each other, which allows us to comprehend meaning. We are conscious. Puppets are not conscious. As we sit here talking, I understand you. Do you understand me?

A: Of course.

Q: Then that understanding is coming from something other than particles in motion. Without this non-material quality, you and I would be gibbering in the dark.

A: You’re saying that, if all the particles in the universe, including those that make up the brain, possess no consciousness, no understanding, no comprehension of meaning, no freedom, then how can they give birth to understanding and freedom. There must be another factor, and it would have to be non-material.

Q: Yes. That’s what I’m saying. And I think you have to admit your view of determinism and particles in motion—that picture of the universe—leads to several absurdities.

A: Well…perhaps I’m forced to consider it. Otherwise, we can’t sit here and understand each other.

Q: You and I do understand each other.

A: I hadn’t thought it through this way before, but if there is nothing inherent in particles that gives rise to understanding and meaning, then everything is gibberish. Except it isn’t gibberish. Yes, I seem to see a contradiction. Interesting.

Q: And if these non-material factors—understanding and meaning—exist, then other non-material factors can exist.

A: For example, freedom. I suppose so.

Q: And the drive to eliminate freedom in the world…is more than just the attempt to substitute one automatic reflex for another.

A: That would be…yes, that would be so.

Q: Scientists would be absolutely furious about the idea that, despite all their maneuvering, the most essential aspects of human life are beyond the scope of what they, the scientists, are “in charge of.”

A: It would be a naked challenge to the power of science.

Einstein puffed on his pipe and looked out over the valley. He took a sip of his beer. After a minute, he said, “Let me see if I can summarize this, because it’s really rather startling. The universe is nothing but particles. All those particles follow laws of motion. They aren’t free. The brain is made up entirely of those same particles. Therefore, there is nothing in the brain that would give us freedom. These particles also don’t understand anything, they don’t make sense of anything, they don’t grasp the meaning of anything. Since the brain, again, is made up of those particles, it has no power to allow us to grasp meaning or understand anything. But we do understand. We do grasp meaning. Therefore, we are talking about qualities we possess which are not made out of energy. These qualities are entirely non-material.”

He nodded.

“In that case,” he said, “there is…oddly enough, a completely different sphere or territory. It’s non-material. Therefore, it can’t be measured. Therefore, it has no beginning or end. If it did, it would be a material continuum and we could measure it.”

He pointed to the valley.

“That has energy. But what does it give me? Does it allow me to be conscious? Does it allow me to be free, to understand meaning? No.”

Then he laughed. He looked at me.

“I’m dead,” he said, “aren’t I? I didn’t realize it until this very moment.”

I shook my head. “No. I would say you WERE dead until this moment.”

He grinned. “Yes!” he said. “That’s a good one. I WAS dead.”

He stood up.

“Enough of this beer,” he said. “I have some schnapps inside. Let me get it. Let’s drink the good stuff! After all, I’m apparently Forever. And so are you. And so are we all.”


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, 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.

The blockbuster movie called Reality

by Jon Rappoport

September 23, 2021

(To join our email list, click here.)

There is always a certain amount of whining and remorse as one enters the theater to see the movie called Reality.

“Is this a good idea?” “Why did I buy the ticket?”

But you can already feel a merging sensation. The electromagnetic fields humming in the theater, even before the movie starts, are drawing you in.

Your perception of x dimensions is narrowing down to three.

You take your seat. You look at the note you’ve written to yourself, and you read it again:

“Don’t forget where you came from. Don’t forget this is just a movie. Don’t fall asleep. The serial time in the movie is an artifact. The binding feeling of sentimental sympathy is a trance-induction. It’s the glue that holds the movie fixed in your mind.”

“The movie will induce nostalgia for a past that doesn’t exist. Don’t surrender to it.”

“You’re here to find out why the movie has power.”

“You want to undergo the experience without being trapped in it.”

“The content of the movie will distract you from the fact that it is a construct.”

The lights dim.

On the big screen, against a gray background, the large blue word REALITY slowly forms.

Suddenly, you’re looking at a huge pasture filled with flowers. The sky is a shocking blue. You can feel a breeze on your arms and face.

You think, “This is a hypnotic weapon.”

Now, the pasture fades away and you’re standing on an empty city street at night. It’s drizzling. You hear sirens in the distance. A disheveled beggar approaches you and holds out his trembling hand.

He waits, then moves on.

You look at the wet shining pavement and snap your fingers, to change it into a lawn. Nothing happens.

You’re shocked.

You wave your hand at a building. It doesn’t disappear.

Incredible.

You reach into your pocket and feel a wallet. You walk over to a streetlight and open it. There’s your picture on a plastic ID card. Your name is under the picture, followed by a number code. On the reverse side of the card, below a plastic strip, is a thumbprint.

There are other cards in the wallet, and a small amount of paper money. You look at the ID card again. There’s an address.

Though it seems impossible, you remember the address. In your mind’s eye, you see a small cottage at the edge of an industrial town. There’s a pickup parked in the driveway.

It’s your truck. You know it. But how can that be?

You walk toward larger buildings in the distance.

Three men in uniforms turn a corner and come up to you. Behind them emerges a short man in a business suit. He nods at you and holds out his hand.

You know what he wants. You pull out your wallet and give it to him. He looks at the ID card, at you, at the card again.

“You were reported missing,” he says.

“Missing from what?” you say.

“Your home. Your job. What are doing here? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” you say. “I was…taking a short trip. I’m just out for some air.”

“In this part of the city?” he says. “That’s not smart. We’ll take you home. Our car is right over there.”

One car sits on a side street. In large red letters printed on the trunk is the word Concern.

You walk with the men to the car.

Waves you’ve never felt before are emanating from it.

Mentally, you try to back up from them. You feel a haze settle over you.

In the haze dance little creatures.

You look at the short man in the suit. He’s smiling at you.

Suddenly, his smile is transcendent. It’s so reassuring, tears fill your eyes.

You’re thinking, “They built this so I would be lost, and then they found me. I’m supposed to be rescued. I’ve never experienced being rescued before. I never knew what it meant.”

You hear faint music.

It grows louder. As you near the car, you realize you’re listening to a chorus and an orchestra. The rising theme is Victory.

One of the uniformed men opens the car door.

You nod at him.

“My pleasure, sir,” he says.

The music fades away.

The scene shifts.

You’re standing next to the pickup in your driveway alongside your cottage.

You’re home.

Think, you tell yourself. What’s going on?

Now, as you walk into your cottage and instantly remember the rooms and the objects in these rooms, the sensation of Familiarity, slightly out of phase, grows stronger.

You realize you’re supposed to feel tremendous relief. This is what’s expected of you.

It’s expected of everyone. They live with one another through the touchstone of the Familiar. They share it like bread.

They keep coming back to it. The Familiar is a sacrament.

It’s built in. It’s invented through…it’s stamped on every object in this space…

…In order to suggest you’ve been here before. To suggest you belong here.

You see pure space that…

Has been placed here. For you.

And at that moment, there is a small explosion behind your head.

And you’re sitting in the theater again.

The movie is playing on the screen. All around you, in the seats, people are sitting with their eyes closed.

You feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn. It’s an usher.

“Sir,” he says. “Please follow me.”

He leads you up the aisle into the lobby, which is empty.

An office door opens and a young woman steps out. She strides briskly over to you.

“You woke up and came back,” she says. She gives you a tight smile. “So we’re refunding your money. It’s our policy.”

She drops a check in your hand.

“What happened in there?” you say. “What happened?”

She shrugs.

“Only you would know that. You must have done something to interrupt the transmission.”

“And the rest of those people?”

She looks at her watch. “They’re probably into their second year by now. The second year is typically a time of conflict. They rebel. Well, some of them do. They rearrange systems. They replace leaders. They promote new ideals.”

“I had such a strong feeling I’d been there before.”

She smiles. “Apparently it wasn’t strong enough. You’re back here.”

“How do you do it?” you say.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “That’s proprietary information. Did you meet your family?”

“No,” you say. “But I was in a cottage. It was…home.”

She nods.

“If you hadn’t escaped, you would have been subjected to much stronger bioelectric bonding pulses. Do you have a family here?”

You start to answer and realize you don’t know.

She looks into your eyes.

“Go out to the street,” she says. “Walk around. Take a nice long walk for an hour. You’ll reorient. It’ll come back to you.”

“Why do you do it?” you say.

“Do what?”

“Sell this trip.”

“Oh,” she says. “Why does a travel agent book a vacation for a client? We’re in that business.”

You turn toward the exit. The sun is shining outside. People are walking past the doors.

You take a deep breath and leave the theater.

The street is surging with crowds. The noise is thunderous.

You notice you’re carrying a rolled up sheet of paper in your hand.

You open it.

It’s a non-disclosure agreement.

“If you return from your movie experience, you will not reveal or discuss, under penalty of law, anything about its nature, substance, or duration…”

You look at the sheet of paper, make up your mind, and it bursts into flames.


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, 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.

“It ignited a firestorm on social media”

by Jon Rappoport

September 8, 2021

(To join our email list, click here.)

PART ONE: THE NEW INTELLECTUALS

Welcome to the show. I’m your host, YouGluer the Magnificent. My guest today calls himself Brad Douchebag. Brad has 1.3 million Twitter followers. So Brad, what’s your secret to success?

Thanks for having me. I scour the web for comments advocating individual freedom of any kind, and I scream against those comments on Twitter. Then my followers pile on with me and create a firestorm.

I see. I’m told you’ve made quite a name for yourself in academic circles.

Harvard offered me a teaching position in their Department of Social Sciences and Data Analysis. I had to turn it down.

Why?

I’ve parlayed my social media presence into a business. I sell cheap Chinese masks online. Managing a business requires a great deal of time and energy. Frankly, Harvard’s offer was an insult. 150K a year…

PART TWO: APOLOGIZE OR STARVE

Joe works for a major corporation. He’s an animal rights advocate.

One day, on his personal Twitter account, he posts the following: “What they do to animals in labs is sheer torture. The lab-thugs poison them to discover a precise dose that kills…”

Social media mavens pick up on this comment. For example: “Joe’s juxtaposition of ANIMALS and THUGS is thinly veiled RACISM. We all know what he really means.”

Two weeks later, the HR person in Joe’s company calls him in. “You’re under attack, Joe. You’re going to have to apologize. Profusely.”

“Nonsense,” Joe says. “I did nothing wrong. People are twisting my words.”

“We know that, Joe. But it doesn’t matter. The company doesn’t care about what you posted. We care about the reaction. Somebody is going to discover you work here. And then they’re going to come after us.”

“Then you tell them my comments weren’t hurtful.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Joe. You have to grovel, or we’ll fire you. You’ll be out in the street. No major company will hire you. You have to apologize, enroll in one of our re-education classes, and sit down with an anti-racist group. We have a list of those groups. You apologize to them—“

“But I’m not a racist.”

“It doesn’t matter now. It only matters what people are saying. Think of your family, Joe. What are THEY going to say when you’re out of work, when you could have saved your job, but didn’t? Do you think you’ll have their sympathy after you flushed 200K a year down the toilet?”

“…This is more serious than I imagined.”

“You bet your ass it is.”

“I’m going to have to become a different person.”

“Now you’re talking.”

“What kind of person will that be?”

“Someone humble, Joe, who seeks forgiveness, who made a serious mistake, who will do everything in his power to atone for his sins. You now realize the pain you’ve caused others.”

“Should I cry?”

“That would be good.”

“I took a drama course in college.”

“Put it to use.”

“What about self-flagellation on camera?”

“With a whip? That would be going too far. People would think you’re crazy. Keep it along the line of, you’re sorry, you’re devastated, and by atoning you hope to set an example for others.”

“Yes, that’s good.”

“We have PR people, Joe. They’ll work with you. They’ll help you craft your new messages, your new persona.”

“I’ll be like a reformed criminal who got religion.”

“Yes. Think of yourself as a prisoner who’s seeking early parole. You’ll do whatever it takes.”

“All right—you pass.”

“Excuse me? What?”

“You pass. My name isn’t Joe. I’m with the Justice Department. In a few weeks, I’m going to resign from my job here with you people and disappear. My unit moves from corporation to corporation, making sure their key people are on board with preferred social trends.

“That’s—I don’t believe you, Joe.”

“I’d advise you to believe me. I really would. I’m not the only DOJ employee on board with your company. We keep an eye on things.”

“No.”

“Yes. We’re in the middle of a vast social experiment. Our goal is changing attitudes. We’re tightening the control system. You’re with us, or you’re against us. ALL humans are wild ANIMALS, biological machines that are mis-programmed from birth. We’re doing the re-programming. We need major corporations like yours to partner with us. Declare vaccine mandates, enforce correct social behavior, and so on. If, for any reason, you decided to oppose what we’re doing, YOU would find yourself out in the street without a job. The resentment of your family would be visited on YOU. YOUR friends would shun you. Am I getting through?”

“…you are. Yes.”

“Good. You’re OK, Bob. You earn a pass. So far. Stay on the straight and narrow.”

“I’m amazed.”

“That’s a normal reaction. It’s a new world.”

“I’ll say. So you have my balls in a box.”

“We do.”

“I’m not sure I like that, Joe.”

“How much you don’t like it is part of the social experiment, too. We want to know how far we can push people.”

“Before what?”

“Before they rebel in great numbers. That’s the ultimate question, isn’t it? When do they stop giving away their freedom for what they think is security?”

“When? How about never?”

“Good. We need people like you. We build our palaces on your backs.”

“Because we’re passive.”

“Bingo.”


And while I’m at it, here is a somewhat related piece, WHEN THE MACHINE-MIND DIED:

From time to time in these pages, I write satire, fiction, even poetry.

Why?

Because I’m a writer.

I’ve been working at it for 60 years. As a writer, I have more than one interest. I lay out what I see along a number of different avenues. I also, God forgive me, employ Imagination—which I know is considered a major crime in some quarters.

HOWEVER, I always make a distinction between fiction and factual articles. How? The CONTENT of the piece clarifies that distinction.

But sometimes…well, for example…

I once wrote a piece about 150 MILLION Americans traveling to Mexico and then coming back across the border as immigrants and going on welfare—and some people believed I was reporting a news story. On top of that, they got up on their hind legs and brayed: “It isn’t true!”

Drugs? Brain damage? The education system?

So…here’s a story about THAT—

DATELINE, JULY 18, 2097: You of course remember the Alice in Wonderland War. Way back in 2056, a government bureaucrat brought suit against Midas Publishing for reprinting the ancient Lewis Carroll novel.

The bureaucrat stated there was no Alice, there was no Mad Hatter. He claimed that to assert the existence of these characters was an affront to the literal mind.

The literal mind, he insisted, was man’s highest achievement. He wrote: “A is A, and can’t be otherwise. The fabrication of A as B or C is an attempt to confuse, subvert, and destroy.”

“In order for universal surveillance to succeed, the citizenry should say what they mean at all times. Metaphor, simile, joke, satire, parody—these constructions confuse algorithms established to detect potential terrorist activity.”

The attorney for Midas Publishing countered with: “The literal mind is an idiot. It wouldn’t recognize a joke or a punchline if they were shoved down its throat. I hereby issue a call to all people everywhere to start lying, fabricating, telling jokes, all day, every day. Stop acting like good little androids!”

Suddenly, it happened. People started enjoying themselves. The joke and the parody and mockery made a comeback. Did they ever. And NSA’s computers went crazy, exactly the way the literal mind collapses in the face of metaphor.

It was, ultimately, a revolution, and enslaved life went right down the dumpster.

Along with the Alice-in-Wonderland War, we all recall another famous turning point in our history—the 2061 Lenny Bruce case. Lenny, a volunteer in a Technocratic SINGULARITY experiment, was hooked up, brain to brain, with the Kurzweil super-computer at MIT, in the first public demonstration of Enhanced Human, a government-funded program.

The assumption was, Lenny would suddenly become a god. The super-computer would load trillions and trillions of pieces of knowledge into his brain, and he would experience an unprecedented expansion of consciousness.

But just before the computer-connection was made, Lenny uttered, “Suppose everything I’m thinking is a series of jokes? Suppose I don’t really mean what I think in a literal sense? Suppose when I think A I’m really meaning Z?”

The experiment was halted at that point and Lenny was arrested by the FBI. He was put on trial for conspiracy to commit an act of terrorism, because, obviously, the whole technocratic premise would fail along all systems of computer-to-brain interaction, if other people took Lenny’s hint.

The bill of particulars against Lenny read, “A violation of the literal…an act of domestic insurrection.”

And then, a hundred thousand Americans rioted at the Federal Court Building and freed Lenny. Remember?

That’s when the machine-mind died…

—And that, dear reader, concludes today’s episode of, “The Overreaching Obsession for The Literal,” brought to you by the Anti-Algorithm Foundation, dedicated to finding honest work for data analysts: repairing sewers, cracked sidewalks, and broken furniture.


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, 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.