Category Archives: Energy & Imagination

The Magician Awakes

by Jon Rappoport

July 15, 2013

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Here is another section from my unfinished manuscript, The Magician Awakes.

In this scene, the “speaker” is talking to Jimmy in a cheap hotel room. Jimmy has volunteered to go to FreeTown, which some people call FryTown, because they suspect it’s a prison.

But it isn’t. It’s an offworld colony where men and women seeking a different kind of life are emigrating.

Jimmy and the speaker have already been talking for hours. Jimmy thinks he’s qualified to take his place in the new colony, but the speaker has his doubts, and he expresses them at length in this final wrap-up:

Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. I keep talking to you, but everything I say disappears. How do you do that? You’re a black hole.

It’s as if you’re folding time back in on itself, Jim. Do you really believe there’s nothing new under the sun?

All the ideas worth contemplating have already been hashed over, and it’s just a matter of going Spiritual Shopping at the great mall?

Most people live in the past, Jim, whether they admit it or not. So they guard it. They patrol it with weapons loaded.

New ideas are never preordained. That’s a hard one for people to swallow, Jimmy. They enjoy thinking about a universal library that contains all thoughts. Or an ideal invisible universe that’s already there. All laid out. Is that what you believe in?

They prefer it to the notion that something can come from nothing.

But nothing is exactly where something comes from, Jim.

There is no such thing as smooth cause-and-effect from the past to the present. That’s a fairy tale. There are always gaps, Jimmy. In our best moments, we live in the gaps.

People want to plug up the nothing and pave it over with explanations. Hundreds, thousands, millions of explanations.

God is a favorite. He created us with free will but he didn’t want us to create anything new? Is that how you think it really works, Jimmy? I don’t even know whether you believe in God, Jim, but if you do, I bet you have a pretty strange idea about who he is.

You think he made everything there was to make all at once, and then he stopped, and there we were, with freedom, but everything was already laid out? How do you square that, Jim?

If you want to describe the nothing from which something comes, you could do a lot worse than “invention.”

You invent.

“Nothing new” equals slavery.

The fear of new ideas is the fear of inventing.

The universe isn’t a mother or father, Jimmy. No. It isn’t whispering instructions in our ears.

The universe is “deciding whether things are meant to be?” Are you kidding, Jim? Where did you get that one from? A New Age church on Sunday? From a guy in a suit that cost five grand who has a thousand-yard stare and a smile plastered on his face?

There’s a Great Plan? You mean, Jim, the Plan blots out all your freedom and you’re just a machine trying to figure out what your programming is so you can follow it? Is that your best shot?

Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy.

What am I going to do with you?

You’re walking around the dinner table looking at the food and you’re reaching out to put something on your plate, and then you’re drawing back. You’re hungry but you’re not.

You’re doing yes, no, and maybe. You’re looking for a way in and a way out.

You want to punch a time clock but you want to be free.

Let’s say you’re free right now. You’d have to ask yourself, what is freedom for?

What are you going to do with it?

Go back to the past, where everything is already settled? Is that what you want?

Imagine the whole world living in the past, moving along like one big machine, all the parts coordinated. Switch a few parts here, switch a few there. People trying to figure out what to do with their freedom inside the machine. That doesn’t sound realistic, does it, Jim?

Exit From the Matrix

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

In the middle of that craziness, somebody stands up and says he has the most important ideas to share. He says they’re time-tested and wonderful. But he’s in the machine, too.

People believe in him, and they start oiling parts and oiling themselves, and changing locations here and there. They want a better machine.

Who is going to support this new “prophet?” The people who own the machine. That’s who. But here’s the thing. The people who own the machine are inside it, too. They just don’t know it.

Could you dream up a more ridiculous situation?

I know some people believe the men who own the machine are outside it, but they aren’t. If they were really free (outside), they wouldn’t be stepping on everybody’s head. They’d be doing something else. Trust me.

Freedom is real. If you take it. It feels so good, you wouldn’t use it to crush people. Not in a million years.

You wouldn’t do that with real freedom.

You know, Jim, we started with a lot of people like you in FreeTown. And it didn’t work out. We made mistakes.

We had people who said they wanted freedom, but when they arrived at the colony, a strange thing happened. They went back to living the lives they had before.

We told them FreeTown wasn’t the past, but they didn’t understand. They were all about the principle of freedom, like you are, but inside them something else was going on.

They were putting themselves together like androids.

Look, Jimmy, we’re not going to turn you down. We’ll book your passage. But we have a way station. You’ll stop there for three years first. Three years.

The way station’s a special place. Some people call it Limbo, but that’s ridiculous. It’s anything but. But it is where you make your bones if you can.

It’s stupidly simple, when you come right down to it. No frills. No jive. No symbolism or hocus-pocus. No ritual.

It’s not a new kind of reality. It’s not a place that does something to you. You do something to it. Which is the whole point, if you’ve been listening to anything I’ve been saying.

We call the way station by its proper name. The House of Clay.

You’ll live in a little apartment over a studio. The place is all yours.

The studio has five thousand pounds of clay. Your job is to work the clay. Make anything you want from it. Use all of it. Make lots of things.

No rules. No guidelines. We don’t care what you make.

After three years of doing that every day, you’ll go to FreeTown.

We’re betting on the fact that…

Well, I don’t have to spell it out. I think you get it.

That’s the deal. Are you willing to take it?

Everybody who lives in FreeTown has been through the House of Clay. We’ve all done it. See, Jimmy, it’s one thing to say you want out of this system and you want freedom, but it’s another thing to go to a place where freedom actually exists and not screw it up.

You have to start inventing, Jimmy.

That’s what freedom is for.

Not just thinking about it. Doing it.

Inventing new realities.

Are you up for that?

Are you?

We’re giving you the chance, if you want to take it.

Or go back to sleep, curl up in the bed you call freedom. Sleep in the past where nothing is new.

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.

Reframing reality: the shift

Reframing reality: the shift

by Jon Rappoport

July 12, 2013

www.nomorefakenews.com

Here is a quote from my unfinished manuscript, The Magician Awakes:

You see, Jimmy, this I can attest and swear to. We’re only operating in part of the arc, a small sector. We’re playing chords in one building. That’s where everybody is.

We’re recycling these chords, and putting them in different sequences, but it’s the same basic music. And when I say music, I mean what people call emotion.

This music goes here and there, and you’ve got ten or twelve billion people convinced it’s the whole shooting match. You can feel this or that or this or that, and nothing else is left over.

We’re talking about experience, Jimmy. But see, what if there are galaxies and universes of experience we know nothing about? Emotions we know nothing about.

We’re in the visible-spectrum arena, a tiny piece of the whole arc. We have no words for all the sixty trillion other emotions that exist out there.

And if that’s true, then we’re puttering away. What we’re quite sure life is, is just a speck in the sea.

Now, Jimmy, I KNOW you’re going to nod and agree with me. You always do that, as if you already know what I’m talking about. You’re going to tell me how the very same thing I’m talking to you about occurred to you when you were a kid in Illinois.

But see, that’s a bunch of crap. You don’t know what I’m talking about. How do I know this? Because nobody has experienced those sixty trillion unknown emotions yet. Nobody.

But we could. We could get started. The only question is how. How do we bust out of the circle, out of the labyrinth?

You’re an engineer, Jimmy. You like to think of yourself as a man who’s at the frontier of knowing what it’s possible to know. You’re a hard-headed guy. You pride yourself on that. At the same time, you claim great power to have thought of everything anyone has ever thought of. My question to you is: how can your wife stand you?

A way out of the labyrinth, Jimmy…the only faculty capable of making the necessary leap:

Imagination.

Imagination isn’t about content, Jim. It isn’t about answers. It’s about creating answers to questions that will never be asked. It’s about putting something there that wasn’t there before.

This stumps most people at the gate. They want content. They don’t want power, they want what power can bring without lifting a finger.

So, Jim, they choose model B over model A and find themselves, after a time, back where they started, because both models came out of the same machine.

We’re talking about the literal mind, Jimmy. The literal mind believes that every solution to a problem is an advance. The literal mind doesn’t notice that some problems require a jump to another landscape.

So Jim, I herewith give you a metaphor. I’m not suggesting you try this. I’m suggesting you imagine this.

If you could get a person to sit still long enough, and if you could do a very long-form interview about his life and past and present, he might, after maybe a hundred sit-downs, shake loose enough material to reframe his entire view of reality.

Everything would depend on how good an interviewer you were. Everything. (And this would be nothing like therapy.)

But…the whole interview process could be based on the interviewee inventing, wholesale, a life and a past he never had. Never had!

During a hundred sit-downs, he would imagine and invent and improvise thousands of details of a life that never was.

“So where did you live as a child?”

“We had an apartment above a hardware store in Ashton, Kansas. The kitchen doubled as my little sister’s bedroom. She slept on a small cot next to the refrigerator. Every night, she peeked over the window sill and watched soldiers standing outside a bar across the street drinking beer and talking and laughing. She collected soldier toys. She kept them in a cardboard box under the cot. She’d wake up in the middle of the night and sit on the floor and turn on the stove burners for illumination and play with the toys. Put them in lines and columns…”

Never happened, Jim. No Ashton, no hardware store, no apartment, no sister, no soldiers, no cot, no toys.

A whole past invented out of whole cloth. Years, decades. Imagined.

Continuing the metaphor: Would you invent such a life so you could step into it, or would you invent it for some other reason?

The answer, Jimmy, is: it depends. Some people would invent a life they actually want to take on, and others wouldn’t.

But in either case, the value of the process (the interview) would be that it widens the scope and power of imagination itself. That’s the damn point.

And with that change, the life you have will look and feel different.

Everything might seem the same on the surface, Jim, but events and possibilities would be more elastic, more like the wet clay the sculptor uses.

In fact, the fundamental particles of existence would be Possibility. They’d replace atoms and neutrons and quarks and wavicles. They’d replace the playing and replaying of set sequences of emotions. New emotions, which have no names, would emerge.

The physical body would get healthier, as if it had been waiting for this to happen.

Emotional programming would disintegrate.

Watch a soap opera for a few years, Jimmy, if you can bear it. You’ll come to see the characters go through the same changes over and over. They wring out the same emotional ups and downs and ins and outs. On and on. It’s a farcical symphony.

People hit the same chords. They reach the end and go back to the beginning. They play the same notes. They deliver the same sequences of frequencies.

This, we’re told, is life.

Yes, a very small corner of it. It’s interesting. For a while. Then the grooves wear out. The B sets in. Boredom.

We haven’t employed imagination intensely enough.

When we do, new roads appear.

Our bodies and minds are musical instruments ready and willing to experience 60 trillion-plus emotions, not 12.

Exit From the Matrix

Jim, this isn’t Western philosophy or Eastern philosophy or any philosophy from the past. This isn’t about religion. This isn’t about a system or a structure. This isn’t about solving a problem.

Jimmy, you want to say you have all the CONTENT it’s necessary to have. I know you do. You’re the king of your own castle.

You don’t want someone to shove content down your throat.

But if what content isn’t the issue? What if content is beside the point, in this case?

What if you can imagine and create endless content and substance and even knowledge?

What if, through imagination, there’s NO limit on the amount and kind of content you can create?

What if all cultural fairy tales and myths of cultures are a way of externalizing possibilities that really proceed from inside us?

See, Jim? It’s not exactly what you thought, is it? It’s not something you engineer. I’m not arguing with you about your specialty. Your specialty is systems and programs. I’m talking about something else.

I’m talking about that 60 trillion.

Jon Rappoport

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

“Excuse me, are you a robot in the Surveillance State?”

“Excuse me, are you a robot in the Surveillance State?”

by Jon Rappoport

July 11, 2013

www.nomorefakenews.com

“President Barack Obama has ordered federal employees to report suspicious actions of their colleagues based on behavioral profiling techniques that are not scientifically proven to work, according to experts and government documents.” (McClatchey News)

In 1959, two friends of mine, Carl and Michael, staged a spy experiment at the small Ithaca, New York, airport. They were students at Cornell University.

Michael was coming in on a little commercial plane from New York late at night.

In the one-room terminal, Carl waited for him and paced around, wearing a British raincoat and sunglasses. Occasionally, he’d look at his watch and glance out at the airstrip.

Finally, the plane arrived.

Michael, also wearing a British raincoat, descended the steps from the plane, and Carl walked out to meet him on the tarmac. They stood, head to head, for a few minutes, talking to each other. They gestured toward the terminal.

Security personnel arrested them.

On suspicion of seeming suspicious.

Which was the point of the experiment.

Since America is now a spy state, where everyone is expected to snoop and snitch on everyone, why not play the game?

A hundred college students walk into a large coffee shop and sit down.

They starting passing notes to each other. (1950s spy-iconography)

A few of these students approach the counter, ask for the manager, and when he appears, inform him that the waiters/waitresses are doing suspicious things: staring; avoiding eye contact; lingering too long at tables while taking orders.

This little stage play is repeated every day, until media pick up on the story.

A few hundred college students gather in front of a government building. As employees come out at the end of the day, the students pull out cell phones and pretend to make calls. They talk loudly, mentioning that they’re seeing suspicious activity from government workers.

Repeat daily, until media pick up on the story.

In a small town, a hundred parents bake cookies in the shape of guns. They give them to their kids to take to school on the same day.

Repeat every day until the literal robot-minds of school officials implode.

I think everyone in the US should have a screen saver with a picture of a gun on it.

Five hundred students hold a birthday party and picnic in a park. They all wear very large badges hanging from their necks: “CITIZEN SPY.” They pretend to make phone calls, reporting suspicious activity, while pointing at other people in the park. It’s sure to garner some attention, after two or three days.

What? You might be arrested for these activities? Oh, I see. Yes. The entire country is on lockdown. That’s right. We can’t interfere with federal and state agencies doing their jobs, 24/7, to protect us. From ourselves.

A website. Secular Confessions. People are invited to confess their own “suspicious activity.” In detail. You can add, as a bonus, a section for Thought Crimes.

“I thought about plotting the overthrow of Monsanto. I confess. I’m guilty, and I want expiation if not excommunication…”

“I considered masturbating when DHS tanks rolled through my town. I don’t know why. I was suddenly gripped by an uncontrollable impulse…”

“During work today at USDA, where I inspect samples of wheat, I started feeling that I was a suspicious character. I thought about lifting the whole building in one hand and turning it upside down and dropping it on Henry Kissinger’s head…I’m a very bad person.”

Let’s all confess.

I personally am suspicious (it should be “suspect,” shouldn’t it?) because I have a lingering obsession about the Bill of Rights. I’ve tried to purge it from my consciousness in favor of the far more cogent, “we’re all in this together,” but I can’t. I need re-education.

And I have strange thoughts when I drive through an intersection outfitted with video cameras…I want to burn those cameras in a bonfire. I want to see thousands of those cameras burn together. Why does that image produce such unalloyed joy? Something must be wrong with me. Right?

I’m guilty of another thought crime. I want to see Russ Tice, a long-time employee of the intelligence community, featured on page one of the New York Times. I want to see his assertion that the NSA was spying on Obama in 2004 plastered in a giant headline across the top of the page.

I want to see Chris Matthews, up to his Obama-tingling legs in muck, working in a giant industrial pig farm in Mexico. This thought surely marks me as a danger to the State. I must be plotting something. I just don’t know what it is yet.

I’m reporting Brian Williams, Scott Pelley, and Dianne Sawyer as suspicious characters engaged in a mass hypnosis operation. I want action. It must stop. Every night, these morons appear in millions of homes and frame the news in terms even Mickey Mouse could see through.

I want the Reality Manufacturing Company to cease doing business at once.

I’m suspicious, you’re suspicious, we’re all suspicious. Let’s form a new nation based on that irrefutable premise. Let’s quit piddling around. Let’s be SUSPICIOUS.

Stop smiling. Start looking at things sideways. Squint. Learn how to growl convincingly like a dog. Screw Labor Day. It should be Suspicion Day.

Paint on the back of your shirt: WE ARE ALL NSA.

Get into it.

WE’RE ALL NSA, WE’RE ALL SUSPICIOUS, WE’RE ALL SPYING, WE’RE ALL GUILTY.

Go for the home-run ball.

It’s a game. I can spy on you faster than you can spy on me.

“Are you saying your neighbor is a suspicious character because he’s spying on you?”

“No, he’s suspicious because he isn’t spying on me enough.”

CONFESS. REPORT.

“My neighbor is growing Chinese cabbage on her front lawn.”

“Chinese? Thanks. We’ll get right on it. You just earned a gold star, Ms. Good Citizen.”

Exit From the Matrix

This is the era of the busybody. The scum rises to the top.

That old lady who lives down the block and peeks between her curtains at whatever is going on outside? She’s beginning to feel like King Kong. The world is catching up to her at last.

It’s the time of the literal mind, which operates blind to context. In the middle of a conversation, a phrase like “they should be shot” or “I’d like to blow the whole thing to kingdom come” surfaces…and certain faces register a pause, a flinch. Hmm. “That might be dangerous. He shouldn’t have said that…”

One of my favorite media glosses is: “…understandably nervous in the wake of…”

This is used to justify grand-slam law-enforcement officers reacting to harmless events and innocent civilians.

There is always a prior event that can used to rationalize a robot response.

“Understandably nervous in the wake of the Great Flood, officials took a man named Noah into custody today, after he let two rabbits and two hamsters loose in his garden…”

The real objective of the War on Terror is the creation of literal minds, entrained to think in lowest-common-denominator terms.

“There will be no metaphors, no distinctions. Automatons forever.”

The literal mind lives, every day of its existence, guilty of obstruction of justice. It functions at the level of an insect, and delivers far less.

This is what the Surveillance State is meant to induce.

Operant conditioning is based on the premise that humans are nothing more, in their native state, than programmed biological machines. Therefore, replacing one program with another is perfectly apt. (See Scott Noble’s film Human Resources: Social Engineering in the 20th Century (posted at YouTube)).

When I was five years old, in 1943, I went to a nursery school around the corner from our apartment in New York. The first day I was there, a teacher gave me preliminary instructions. I can’t remember the specifics, although I do recall they were inane. I replied, “Okay.”

She froze. Then she smiled one of those big fake smiles. “No,” she said. “We don’t say ‘okay.’ We say ‘all right.’”

From that moment on, I remained on guard, because I knew I was in an alien environment.

I soon learned that the goal of this school was socialization. Pretended harmony.

Say the proper thing. Share and care. Be polite. Don’t be frank, be earnest. Smile. Achtung.

For the rest of the term, I observed this strange cockeyed little world. I said little. I was from another planet, called 19th Street, and I wanted to understand how these lunatics at the school were operating.

On the last day of imprisonment, as we were all assembled in the yard, the head gooney bird approached me and thanked me for my “cooperation.” She thought I had surrendered.

I don’t remember whether a politeness-certificate was involved, but I did recognize this was a wild misunderstanding on her part.

Homogenized America is now moving to a new level: wherever you see cream separating, report it to the authorities and they’ll shake and stir.

See anything, say everything.

To any literal minds who may be reading this article by accident: don’t worry your pretty little heads; there’s a flower growing over there; report it; report the breeze, the summer, the moon; and don’t forget the most important thing of all…

Pick up the phone and dial DHS and say, “I want to turn in the federal government. They’re committing crimes.”

You’ll be right, every day.

What’s left of the idea of a Republic is a memory. Now, the people in charge want to take the final step and turn it into a Pavlovacracy.

They want the Matrix to report to the Matrix.

The most pernicious advocates of the New Age preach that, in order to pass into next phase of evolution, humans must purify their thoughts, dispensing with all negativity. Otherwise, they’ll be left behind the iron gate of the past to suffer great pain and turmoil.

This is a quite adequate description of what the Surveillance State is doing.

Self-flagellation is making a comeback. You watch. Just as people show up at police stations and confess to crimes they haven’t committed, we’re going to see a wave of demented souls reporting on themselves for “suspicious behavior.”

It’s a natural offshoot for the class of those whose aspire to victim status, but don’t possess authentic qualifications.

I welcome the phenomenon. It’s exactly what the Surveillance State deserves for inventing a new category of immolation: clogged-up phone lines and email boxes.

“I want to report that I said something I shouldn’t have said…”

“Excuse me?”

“No, really. I’m a suspicious person. I need to be on some kind of list.”

In the 13th century, people started walking around in long lines, beating themselves with whips. By the 14th century, the Roman Church became so exasperated it excommunicated all flagellants en masse.

Too much bad press. Original sin was fine, but people were taking it to a whole new level.

It’s going to happen again in the Surveillance State. Get your popcorn ready. Go to work, Dr. Phil.

Jon Rappoport

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

The museum called Reality

The museum called Reality

by Jon Rappoport

July 9, 2013

www.nomorefakenews.com

You stroll through an art museum.

Many rooms, many paintings.

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

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

It’s lovely.

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

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

“Go ahead,” he says. “You can do it.”

Absurd. And yet…

You wonder.

“All it takes is conviction,” he says.

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

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

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

The door is ajar.

You enter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve been living in this place long enough to have a job. You think about it for a few seconds, and you realize you know where your office is. It’s up the street and over three blocks.

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

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

She lays a key next to the coffee.

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

She walks out.

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

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

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

The doors close and you feel the elevator descend.

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

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

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

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

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

You’re an expert in these matters, but you haven’t made it to the end.

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

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

What does he mean?

A vague memory becomes sharper.

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

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

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

He nods as if he understands perfectly.

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

“Excessive pride,” he says.

“Yes,” you say.

“It indicates you’re trying to become something you aren’t. You’re trying to be better than everyone else. Which is a criminal offense.”

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

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

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

Yes, there is some kind of distinction to be made. You almost grasp it.

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

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

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

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

“Why are you doing this?” you say.

“Doing what?”

He shakes his head.

He slowly fades out.

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

You made him.

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

You examine…a sense that you are betraying other people. That thought is made out of old scratchy sentiments and a fascination with the idea of being like everyone else. Being like everyone else is an adventure. It’s an exploration for its own sake…

It can become a life, a holy crusade.

But it’s not your life or your crusade.

Exit From the Matrix

There is a soft explosion just behind your head.

As you feel an impulse that is going to lift you off the floor, you stare at the wall and you imprint a paragraph of text into the stone.

And then…

You’re back in the museum.

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

You’re trembling with relief.

A museum guard steps over to you.

“Are you all right, sir?” he says.

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, I’m fine.”

He nods.

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

“How about you?” you say.

His face flushes.

“Have a nice day,” he says.

“You, too.”

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

“I’m protecting something important. I watch the people moving through the rooms and looking at the paintings. I feel they’re learning…”

You nod.

He walks away.

You continue to walk through the museum.

There are many paintings. Many entrances.

Jon Rappoport

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at <span style="fo

Last-minute thoughts for July 4: light at the end of the tunnel

Last-minute thoughts for July 4: the light at the end of the tunnel

by Jon Rappoport

July 5, 2013

www.nomorefakenews.com

For 95% of the population, if you give them hope they eat it like candy and forget it an hour later. Then they want more. They’re hooked on the hope machine.

They somehow believe Hope is Action.

They are the fearful, the submissive, and the delicate.

They have an endless capacity for self-delusion.

Hoping for hope is what elects presidents, one after another. Whereas, what would happen if enough of us refrained from voting for either of the two major criminals campaigning on behalf of the double-headed Washington crime family?

On election day we would crash the system by withdrawing our consent, the consent of the governed.

We wouldn’t be hoping for hope.

“Today, the American people registered an astonishing 13% turnout and loudly expressed their no-confidence in government. Washington is lying in electoral ruins.”

If the live audience for one of those half-cocked presidential television debates roared with derisive laughter at every turn, they would sink the whole charade, in front of millions of viewers.

“…a better day ahead for all Americans…”

Laughter cracks like thunder through the hall.

It bounces off the walls and runs up and down the aisle. It invades people all over the America in their homes. Despite themselves, they begin chortling.

Pretty soon, they’re rolling off the couch and hitting the floor. They call other people to make sure they’re watching the debate, but they can’t talk. They can only shriek with laughter.

The whole country bursts its androidal bubble. Waking up from the big trance.

I’m sure you know about movements in states to nullify federal laws on the grounds they’re constitutionally illegal. Ultimately, this is a form of corrosive laughter.

Decentralization of illegitimate power should be a laughing matter. It should stage parades with surreal floats. It should walk along sidewalks with crazy signs. It should bellow from billboards. It should come blasting out of churches.

You want to make a difference? Organize a hundred parents in your town and have them make guns out of pink cookie dough and give them to their kids, to take to school. It’s a start. It stimulates the dormant absurdity-center of the brain. It screws with the robots in charge of things.

I want to hear what a million people standing in the Washington Mall laughing at the federal government sounds like. I really do.

When was the last time you laughed so hard you thought you were going to die? Remember how that feels? Reality explodes. Which is the whole point.

Last week, I was watching the news—a form of self-torture I try to avoid. I can’t even remember what the item was. It was some kind of baroque political jive. I went into hysteria-land all of a sudden. It was one of those laughing-weeping blow-ups out of nowhere. I ended up with my head on my knees.

I don’t know about you, but I need that once a day. I really do.

This isn’t the red pill or the blue pill. It’s the crap-in-your-pants pill.

A few years ago, it happened to me in the Vatican. We were there to see Michelangelo’s ceiling in the Sistine Chapel. Have you ever gone? The room is like a steam bath. It’s hot and humid. You’ve got these people, who’ve come from all over the world, and they’re sitting on benches around the periphery and standing—and they’re all looking up.

It only takes a few minutes to realize Michelangelo wasn’t a happy camper lying on that scaffold. On most of the panels, he did fast cartoons. Now and then he’d bear down and execute an immortal face. But most of the time he was aching and grumbling and wondering how he’d let himself get roped into the commission.

This struck my funny bone. I held it in until we got out of the room and were walking back toward the entrance. Then I started laughing. A few people saw me and didn’t like it. Too late. That made me laugh harder. The whole thing, the whole edifice of the Church, with its specialized access to God through licensed priests, was now bleeding into my laugh-center. I was a goner.

It took me a hundred yards along the carpeted corridors to calm down. But then I was at the counter where they sell prints of the Michelangelo—horrifically bad prints—and I was in stitches again.

Wait a minute. What about the millions and millions of people around the world—the billions—who are in chains of one kind or another, who are starving and dying, who are fighting manipulated wars, who are suffering…

The point is, that’s all coming from centralized criminal power. It’s no joke. But when you start to decentralize, when you think about it and find ways to DO it, the whole frame of the Matrix wobbles, the whole arch of consensus bullshit reality and the media that promote it do become a matter for laughter.

And not just a giggle or two. I’m talking about immortal laughter that wipes them off the face of the Earth. I’m talking about a natural and repressed impulse that, unless it’s exercised to the fullest, can turn around and ruin your well-being and take you down.

The Matrix is a joke because it’s designed to stand in for your own power to create reality. That’s the biggest joke of all. If I were the king of that most insane of all human endeavors—”mental health”—I would rewrite the books and point out that Sanity is, in fact, solely defined as: being able to comprehend the biggest joke of all…and that’s all Sanity is.

If you can’t access your imagination, you can’t laugh. Simple.

And you’re dead.

Exit From the Matrix

So, for Independence Day, this is a call to remember that most profound of kiddie tales: The Emperor’s New Clothes.

He’s so naked in so many different ways. When millions of people see it and know it and point it out and respond to it and laugh at it, we have a different kind of revolution.

We’re no longer sucking pipe on the Hope Machine.

We now live in a society where people feel they’re entitled to complain: “I can’t laugh!” As if this rates sympathetic notice.

Not only must we find a way to laugh, we must find a way to make it penetrate to the depth of the Matrix itself. We must find a way to expose the whole joke at the bottom of the despicable power system, so it dies, so it stands naked and decapitated.

This kind of comedy isn’t a light brush-off. It isn’t a modest chuckle. It’s a typhoon that attacks the ship and blows enough holes in it to make it sink.

Sink it.

Every human was once a child who knew how to laugh at lunatic buttoned-up eyes-straight-ahead deadly Reality. Then we became card-carrying members of that buttoned-up farce.

We lost our way. We died and forgot.

It’s time for a resurrection. And an insurrection.

I have absolutely no doubt that some readers will to choose to misunderstand what I’m saying here. So be it.

They’ll claim I’m some sort of gooney Rainbow man. That will definitely make me laugh. Definitely.

So anyway…the war on drugs and the war on cancer and the war on terror and all the other phony wars are efforts to make people fear danger.

Brian (“I’m just a boy scout on a bike with a newspaper route”) Williams; Scott (“I’m not a licensed doctor but I’m performing brain surgery on you”) Pelley; and Dianne (“don’t cry for me, America, I’m weeping for all of us”) Sawyer are beaming this fear at the population every night.

Underneath it all, they’re worried that you’ll see through the scam and start laughing at them. The whole stench-ridden corpus of the news will then collapse in slime and dust.

In other words, danger is the cover story they sell to keep a lid on the massive impulse to ridicule entrenched power into the ground.

This strategy mirrors how many people talk to themselves: “Things are too dangerous and serious to laugh at. I have to march forward with my eyes locked on the next automaton in line.”

Laughter is a trigger for Decentralization of life.

Laughter seems impotent only to the people who can’t laugh.

My advice: shun those people. Their minds are swamped with Literal Reality. If they hear the world is their oyster, they’re down in the sand on the beach digging for the one that will change everything for them.

Don’t think so? I recently wrote a piece about 150 MILLION Americans going to Mexico, swimming back to the US, and becoming instant welfare millionaires. There were readers who were convinced this was a news story.

Satire? Parody? Never heard of it. Because they can’t laugh. They don’t believe in the concept. They’re against it.

Defeating laughter is, in fact, their bottom-line cause. They’re the Matrix People.

Jon Rappoport

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

Surveillance State: 1st step to creating a single universal mind

Surveillance State: first step to creating a single universal mind

by Jon Rappoport

July 3, 2013

www.nomorefakenews.com

“Technical barriers to grafting one person’s head onto another person’s body can now be overcome, says Dr. Sergio Canavero, a member of the Turin Advanced Neuromodulation Group.” (Quartz.com July 2)

So…imagine we were living in that kind of society 50 years up the road. We might get something like the following:

Finally…

Your job at the Central General Corporation brings you a longed-for special perk.

You can sign up and get on the list for a new mind.

The technical description of the surgery is over your head, but the basics are thrilling.

Two solid improvements are speed and accuracy. You will think 20 times faster, and your rate of mistakes will drop to .01%. Your IQ will rise by a minimum of 50 points.

There is also an automatic signal when a problem you’re working on won’t resolve. Your left ear lobe burns. This informs you that, no matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to come to a useful conclusion.

You’ll save a great deal of time.

The new mind you’re getting contains several basic elements:

157,893 generalizations (or premises) deemed to be truthful;

a deductive logic program that is ironclad;

and an instantly accessible technical library adjusted to your job.

The library automatically generates, collates, and summarizes the best available information re the problem you’re working on, in line with the previously installed generalizations (premises) and the logic program.

For an additional fee, you can opt for a social program that will enable you to shift out of work-mode and communicate effectively with colleagues, friends, and family.

The left-ear-lobe burn signal will go live whenever social conversations touch on controversial issues. This is your cue to back away and seek other company.

Your new mind will be monitored 24/7 from a combined NSA-DHS node that ensures proper functioning. If repairs are needed, a partial shutdown will deploy. Corrections will normally take less than three hours.

There is also a bullpen function. Persistent questions for which there is no available answer; personal reflections and contemplations; and any instance of social, political, financial, or existential claustrophobia will all be funneled to a dead space where they will linger and progressively fade.

A tiny but important Grand Slam Package will translate any thoughts once deemed to be creative into a sludge-mesh, where the velocity of transmission will slow to one synaptic flash per hour. In other words, you’ll achieve close to a zero rate on imagination.

At the perimeter of your new mind is the Cattle Farm. Slow moving, meaningless, and random tautologies circulate there, efficiently blocking exit from the space of consciousness.

You’re centered where you’re most needed, where you can perform usefully and swiftly.

The most delicate aspect of the new-mind surgery involves connecting programmed thought-impulses with neurotransmitters and hormones.

Throughout the day, you’ll think thoughts that trigger a carefully groomed and modulated pleasure-quotient. The overall effect will stimulate you to conclude you are satisfied.

A leak-proof algorithm will regulate the interplay of this satisfaction with the delight of being able to think faster. The consequent sum will define that elusive quality called happiness.

Thought-forms called Border Collies will continuously roam the space of your mind and organize stray electrical effects, bringing them into symmetrical globular wholes. These wholes will automatically constitute your “aesthetic sense.”

At night, while you sleep, regions of mind unreachable by the surgery will naturally expend extraordinary energies of outrage, resentment, resistance, and pure hatred. This is quite normal.

Scooper Drones will siphon off those energies and their attendant emotional wildfires into Sponge Wardens at seven key National Institutes of Health laboratories, where researchers will utilize them to build Strategic “Arab Spring” Platforms.

NASA is preparing to launch the Platforms. They will circle the Earth and beam wide-spectrum rage at key sites where wars, revolutions, and inciting events are deemed necessary to update mega-corporate healing enterprises.

Further specific information on these corporate operations is, at present, classified.

But know you are contributing to a higher-order resolution of planetary conflict.

It’s estimated that, with your new mind in tow, you’ll require full overhauls every three years. During these periods of hospitalization, you’ll experience total shutdown.

Your families, friends, and co-workers will be notified in advance.

Exit From the Matrix

As an historical note of interest, you recall, I’m sure, the so-called spying, the so-called Surveillance State, back in the old days. Yes?

Most people didn’t realize the program was the first attempt to create a single Universal Mind.

It’s about feedback:

When people know their every action and thought is monitored and watched, they naturally decide to change their thoughts, trim them down, make them more simple and lucid…so there is no misunderstanding.

You see?

The Surveillance State was really the first crude new-mind surgery that we have today.

But now we can guarantee the result. The science has advanced majestically. The surgery is extremely specific and comprehensive.

Fifty years ago, people didn’t understand why the NSA and other organizations were spying on everybody all the time. It wasn’t merely to stop terrorist attacks. So why?

Now it’s all clear. It was step one in a lengthy process of coordinating and manufacturing all minds to move as One.

Central Planning for Planet Earth must restructure brains so they perform, in various ways, to produce what we call The Whole X.

What is The Whole X? It’s the meshing of all human thought and function that will indeed produce the greatest good for the greatest number.

Whole X is the plan from above.

It calculates every move and every thought-pattern the billions of Earth inhabitants undertake, during every hour of every day.

Whole X dispenses justice and goods and services and sustainability from Nome to Tierra Del Fuego.

How can these four elements be parceled out unless, at the level of mind, the rational processes of every human are coordinated?

Yes, we’ve come a long way from Spy Headquarters. That was then; this is now.

We’ve walked the path from the Bill of Rights to the Bill of the Mind.

Use your gifts wisely.

To those who lament the loss of freedom, privacy, and imagination, consider that those qualities led us to the brink of extinction. We turned the corner and found enduring peace in our time.

For more information, log on to The Church of Absolute Inescapable Unity.

Jon Rappoport

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

The most frequently used words on television

The most frequently used words on television

by Jon Rappoport

July 1, 2013

www.nomorefakenews.com

Propaganda is the art of selling people a reality they would never choose on their own.

One of the profound and simple tricks of propaganda is selling people what they already have.

However, if they don’t know they already have it, if they don’t realize the sale is unnecessary, they won’t recognize the sleight-of-hand operation.

And the payoff is, they’ll accept a synthetic substitute for the real thing.

If a person really doesn’t understand he has freedom, he may, for example, buy the idea that freedom means serving others.

No. Freedom and serving others are two different things.

And there are all sorts of ways freedom can be packaged and sold that add up to slavery.

In the only study I’ve been able to find, Wictionary surveys the scripts of all television shows in the year 2006, to analyze the words most frequently broadcast to viewers in America.

Out of 29,713,800 words, including the massively used “a,” “an,” “the,” “you,” “me,” and the like, the word “home” ranks 179 from the top. “Mom” is 218. “Together” is 222. “Family” is 250.

If you think this is hardly surprising, that’s because you’ve been relentlessly bombarded with propaganda about family for years.

“In the end, all we have is family” “Family is the most important thing.” “Our team is really like a family.” “Our company is a family.”

Well, take a step back.

Newsflash: Everyone is born into a family. It may be wonderful, it may be terrible, it may be just okay, it may be whole or broken, but it’s a family.

For nearly all of human history, people have managed to deal with their families without needing to raise flags and pennants and banners elevating the concept to the highest peak of the highest mountain.

In the same way that protecting a baby with a stroller that looks like Patton tank is excessive, the ideal of family has been pushed beyond any rational boundary.

And there is a reason for this. If you want to embed and entangle an individual in a group or collective, and train him to think it’s inevitable, what better way than to start with the family.

It’s operant conditioning.

Television promotes family as a monitor on the independence of the individual. Fathers and mothers operate as cautionary and commanding figures in the landscape.

“Don’t do that. Don’t go over there. Be careful. Don’t move away from town. Don’t take a chance. Stop dreaming. Why can’t you be like everybody else?”

“Take the safe path. Think as the family thinks.”

It’s mandatory for a politician to campaign with family. Put them up on the stage, convey the impression they’re all in perfect sync.

Government has become a surrogate parent. It gives and it takes. It dispenses gifts, but it also makes arbitrary rules. Remind you of anybody?

“We love you and need you and we have freebies for you, but don’t go against the family.”

The Matrix Revealed

Only an utter dolt would fail to recognize the warning signs in that sort of arrangement.

If you survey the range of broadcast television, you’ll find endless examples of family as infernal “concerned” meddler in the decisions of its members. It’s goo a mile wide and deep. Artificial empathy as a cover for control.

“We care about you. We don’t want you to go down a dangerous road. We want to protect you. Who were you talking to on the phone?”

What emerges is a portrait of family members as people eternally mired in problems, struggling to operate under a very low ceiling of achievement and power.

If America is a family of 300 million people, then naturally the parents will need to keep track of all the children. It’s called the Surveillance State.

“We’re just looking out for you. It’s for your own good.”

Edward Snowden becomes the wayward child who wandered from hearth and home.

Daddy and Mommy will teach him a lesson.

When a shooter goes off in an Aurora theater or a Sandy Hook school, the television audience watches the event on television as if it’s a gruesome episode in a soap opera about…family.

James Holmes and Adam Lanza are outcast sons of America who became sick and twisted.

You’re either part of the family or you’re a killer.

If you think I’m exaggerating or rejecting the very human emotions of sympathy, grief, and shock, I’m just describing how these events are presented by media. I’m pointing out the subliminal messages, which are all gross distortions and exaggerations.

America is not one family.

It never was.

We’re not “all in this together.”

That’s a myth and a fairy tale.

The myth is promoted miles beyond any truth, for a reason:

To elevate the collective and demean the free and independent individual.

I grew up in a family. I grew up with friends. I know what it’s like to feel close to people. And I’m old enough to have seen the shift take place, when these experiences of mine and yours were parlayed into a “universal togetherness.” The myth. The legend.

It’s a construct. It’s a psyop.

People I was close to laughed when the transition took place. It was a joke for us, just another sales job.

It was a synthetic piece of friendly fascism laid over the truly authentic experiences of living.

Most people never discover what they’re capable of or what they really want, because they remain in the constricted bosom of the group. Spinning this as a Great Unity is cruel. It isn’t “spiritual.”

It sells well, because it panders to people who’ve sacrificed their freedom many times over.

If you believe our recent presidents have been dispensing some new and elevated philosophy—Clinton (“I feel your pain”), Bush (“no child left behind”), Obama (“we’re all in this together”)—you need a mental laxative.

And Hillary (“it takes a village”) in 2016? More of the same.

These hustlers care about populations as much as the CIA MKULTRA chiefs cared about mental health. The presidents won office and acclaim because millions of minds had been seeded with engineered brain-dead propaganda about Universality.

Hope does not reside with the group. The group, if it has any genuine worth, exists to force leaders to reinstate individual freedom.

Exit From the Matrix

When the people have lost contact with what individual freedom means and what it is for, puppet dictators arise and take the reins. They delight in committing crimes.

Now there’s a family. The crime family.

Theft, extortion, murder.

Under the flag of love.

Contrary to experts, people don’t need to be taught what love is. They know. They know it in the womb.

In tribes, societies, and civilizations…people settling their differences? Learning to cooperate on basic values? Of course. But for that, no high-flying psyop-prophets are needed.

The prophets have an age-old strategy. Sell back to people what they already have, dressed up in high-flying sentiments.

Suckers, fool’s gold, hollow intimacy. A movie about reality in which the free and independent individual is sacrificed.

Jon Rappoport

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

The blockbuster movie called Reality

by Jon Rappoport

June 29, 2013

(To join our email list, click here.)

There is always a certain amount of whining and remorse as one enters the theater, after buying the ticket.

Is this a good idea?

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

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 an 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 trance 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. 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? 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 are the words CARE AND 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. They’re targeting your body. You feel a haze settle over you.

In the haze dance little creatures. They’re speaking. You try to hear what they’re saying.

Now you do. “Reality, reality, reality.”

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.

But 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 along side your cottage.

You’re home.

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

You recognize your mind is now divided into two parts. The first part registers sensations from this reality. Feedback. These sensations are meant to be sorted, in order to answer the question: HOW AM I?

The second part of your mind is entirely devoted to perceiving problems and solving them. Everything at this level is organized to constitute problems.

You were never aware of these two sectors of your mind before.

Where did they come from?

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

You realize, without knowing how, that 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…electromagnetically induced fields. It’s stamped on every object in this space…

To suggest you’ve been here before. To suggest you belong here.

As you look around the cottage, you apprehend a third sector of your mind. You struggle to identify it.

It’s the fount of a different kind of perception.

Yes.

You keep staring at the cottage and you see space.

You see space that…

Has been placed here. For you.

It, too, is threaded with the Familiar.

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 into 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 fifth year by now. The fifth 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?”

“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 crisply. “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 agree to reveal or discuss, under penalty of law, nothing 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.

Psychological trigger: what’s behind the official rage against leakers?

Psychological trigger: what’s behind the official rage against leakers?

by Jon Rappoport
June 24, 2013
www.nomorefakenews.com

Technocrats, who are obsessed with designing the future for all of us, are Globalists in sheep’s clothing.

Their plans coincide with the intention to direct the world’s economic and political activity from a central-management locus.

“For the greatest good of the greatest number.”

However, there is a glitch. And it is permanent. It appears suddenly, here and there, and it’s the kind of variable that won’t surrender to any sort of programming.

It’s so odd, even the population at large doesn’t notice it.

It’s the “unpredictable function.”

Behavior and thought that fit no pattern.

To go even further, it’s not really a function at all, except from the point of view of the technocrats who are trying to map it.

It’s the result of imagination deployed in such a way that the user experiences “cracks” between items of consensus reality. These cracks are emotions, thoughts, and sensations that are new.

There is no way to assess what such experience might lead to.

No map of behavior or prediction about where it’s going will be accurate or complete.

All maps count on the fact that people keep thinking and feeling along the same paths.

Most people do stay in the same worn grooves. They have no idea they can leave these paths or venture down new ones.

But such people are not all people.

Down through history, artists have imagined their way into non-consensus realities. This is not a trivial circumstance. It is a case of asymmetrical “cause and effect”—which is to say, unknown cause.

Unanticipated social and political response to tyranny can develop from this asymmetry.

The response comes from the root of a person: his creative faculty.

We look back on technical innovations of the past and conclude they are smooth transitions and accretions that are only the result of step-by-step improvements in science. But this is wrong. There are always unexplained gaps that are crucial.

When Gutenberg looked at an old screw press that was used to produce wine and oil, and then realized that other technical processes could be joined to make a printing press for books, he was “in a gap.”

He was changing the world with that inexplicable insight.

Of course, from our vantage point, it’s easy to break down any innovation and place it in context, among a serial and unbroken accumulation of knowledge, but that is an illusion.

At the center, there is always a human innovator with his imagination. From his penetration between the stones of consensus reality, he brings back an idea. He brings back something new.

His insight is unrecorded, because there is nothing to record. There is only what he subsequently does with the insight. The rest is invisible.

The Matrix Revealed

The true account of our history, its major turning points, is rife with these leaps and gaps.

What technocrats of the modern age hope to do is translate the gaps into detectable processes, which can be described as brain activity at a micro level.

The technocrats are of a religious faith in their ability to achieve this result.

But each time they claim to make a breakthrough, they discover, much to their disappointment, that their goal recedes further into the distance. What they discover implies more ignorance, not less.

For every assertion that consciousness is basically a passive process occurring at the level of brain, more unexplained human behavior arises.

The mad prophet of technocracy, Ray Kurzweil, now the director of engineering at Google, is famous for comparing creative capacity to chess.

Pointing out that computers have defeated human chess champions, Kurzweil goes on to conclude that all human activity assumed to be creative will soon be found to be replicable by software programs and algorithms.

Everything we once ascribed to the creative faculty will surrender to computers that can do it better.

But Kurzweil and his colleagues are wrong.

The “unpredictable function” will remain.

Bringing all this down to the human response to tyranny, the implication is vivid. No one can predict how humans who are willing to deploy their imagination will innovate. No one can say how humans, self-propelled by imagination and courage and a riverboat gambler’s sense of adventure, will turn tyranny on its head.

Tyranny, at the core, is a mechanical organization of life. Imagination isn’t organization. It’s beyond that myth. It will always be beyond that myth.

Strange but true, the overwhelming numbers of humans on Earth are really in the camp of the technocrats. That is to say, they believe that everything ailing our civilization stems from a “bad program.” They believe that some kind of better program will save us all.

Which is exactly what the technocrats assert.

But the real answer to fascism is beyond programs. That is what people find so hard to swallow. They fear the absence of determinism. They want assured process and assured result.

They want pattern. They want symmetry.

Exit From the Matrix

However, at bottom, that is not what human life is. Life happens in the gaps, the leaps. In inexplicable creativity.

The creative act is not organized. It isn’t symmetrical or harmonious. It isn’t a mere mimicry of natural laws.

After the fact, many artists will explain their work by referring to nature. But that stems from the fact that these artists don’t understand what they are doing, or how it involves traveling beyond systems.

Imagination is as plain as the nose on your face, when that nose and that face are liberated from the matrix of pedestrian cause and effect.

The creative faculty is liberated.

That is ultimately why fascism and tyranny are ill-equipped to handle their asymmetrical nemesis.

Fascism is organization carried to an extreme. It can’t escape what it is. It tries to reduce and eradicate imaginative penetrations between the stolid pillars of consensus reality. It tries to plug the leaks.

But creative energy appears in unlikely places and with unexpected force.

Technocracy is an approach married to the premise that all human actions can be understood, patterned, placed in context, and mathematically described.

But the creative act deals with contexts as computers deal with data. It shifts them, breaks them apart, reformulates them. It goes even further. It discards them and invents new ones, as desired.

And it can operate without any context whatsoever.

That is the unspoken cardinal sin listed by the Great Church of the Information Age.

A great deal of the official rage against leakers of classified data stems from a basic frustration: the best systems in the world aren’t perfect.

This is the technocrat’s nightmare: “The system has holes. It’s incomplete. It can be picked apart. No matter how well we design it, someone wants to hack it.”

Of course someone does. Because someone doesn’t like air-tight life, which is no life at all.

Build a perfect labyrinth with hundreds of interlocking paths, and someone is going to come along with a lawnmower and cut a new path right out of the prison.

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

Heroes, fake hope, and real hope in the Matrix

Heroes, fake hope, and real hope in the Matrix

by Jon Rappoport

June 22, 2013

www.nomorefakenews.com

The occasion for this article is the controversy swirling around Edward Snowden, who recently exposed secret programs of the National Security Agency.

It’s about one corner of that controversy: should we accept him as a hero even if the possibility exists that he isn’t?

The Matrix is designed to stimulate certain emotions.

For example: “We had a hero. Then he was taken down. Now we will feel sadness, desolation, and eventually nostalgia for what might have been.”

For example: “We have a hero. Let’s not look too closely at what he is. Now we will feel hope, a joy at his victories, and a confirmation of our deepest dreams.”

In both examples, the vast majority of people are an Audience. They experience a vicarious sequence of emotions, by proxy.

Proxy equals passivity at the core of consciousness. It is in that deep passivity that the labyrinthine Matrix maintains its hold.

And to disturb the passivity in any way brings out complaints and protests. Their ultimate translation is: “Don’t bother me, I’m sleeping. I’m the Audience.”

Understand that we’re not talking about a person who, inspired by a hero, takes stock, and then swings into powerful action. No, we’re talking about spectatorship.

True inspiration leads to action.

The Matrix is about a round of feelings that dead-end.

Whereas real hope rides on the back of action.

But for most people, action is out of the question, because they can’t imagine what it would be. Nor can they find within themselves a profound and stirring desire that ignites imagination.

Working in toward the center of themselves from either desire or imagination, they draw a blank. The motor spins, but there is no traction, no signal that takes them out into the world.

They settle for fake hope, and when the source of that hope (a hero) is impugned, they boil and rage. Then they stifle those feelings.

They settle on: “Don’t bother me, I’m sleeping.”

If you tell them the world is being run by criminals, they say you are promoting futility. But what they really mean is, their pipe dreams that keep them in a hopeful state of suspended animation are being disturbed.

They are in a quiet war with themselves over the question: Can I create something powerful and meaningful?

Up until now, the only thing they’ve been able to create is a reaction against anyone who intrudes on their core trance-sleep.

The Matrix Revealed

But I’m the exact opposite of a pessimist. I know, as in KNOW, that the INDIVIDUAL has freedom and power. Because, when all is said and done, that’s who he is.

And who he is can never be eradicated.

The requirement that significant and sweeping change for the better must happen in the next six months is the fantasy of a self-entitled child. It is the whine and the complaint of a person who has already given up, but refuses to admit it.

Short-term battles for a good world were lost a long time ago. The long-term battle never ends. It is going on right now.

Groups begging at the door of entrenched power for crumbs are going nowhere. That is no revolution. That is no liberation.

It’s a pathetic stage play.

Every individual is free, whether he wants to be or not. This freedom isn’t given to him or made legal by any mechanism.

Freedom is something you take because it is yours. You don’t ask for it. You don’t wait for it. You don’t long for it. You don’t inquire about it.

Neither do you interfere with the freedom of another.

With these two facts established, your life is your own. Your life is yours to invent. If you don’t invent it, it becomes a habit, a routine. It becomes an occasion for false hope, with which you can entertain yourself forever.

Freedom isn’t just a steady-state hum. It is the opportunity to imagine without limit and then create futures and realities that would otherwise never exist.

It is the opportunity for endless and deep and high and wide Desire, which you can fulfill by making it fact in the world.

To deny these things in the service of some other aspiration leads back to the core trance and the big sleep, by whatever name.

All entrenched and monopolistic power is a crime. Its opposite is decentralization, the nemesis of kings, monarchs, and fascists.

To understand how decentralizing can be accomplished is not merely to understand a program or a system. The understanding comes through unchained imagining, and then uncompromising action based on it.

“But I can’t!”

Then you stay in the trance, the land of false hope, the worship of heroes, the need for nostalgia.

This is neither unfair nor fair, neither just nor unjust. It simply is.

Infiltrated through the culture, there are many so-called spiritual teachings and maxims that excuse and even glorify the human need for passivity. These teachings (propaganda) have their roots in ancient societies that were built on the injustice of a rigid caste system.

These teachings were imported into modern civilization to soften the blow sustained by the widening separation between the haves and the have-nots.

“If it was meant to be, it will happen. Otherwise, it won’t.”

“The universe will tell you what to do. Wait for its message.”

“Remove desire from your life. It’s the source of suffering.”

“Live your life by accepting what is.”

“Happiness is achieved by being satisfied with what you already have.”

“Above all: patience.”

The popularity of these and other similar teachings are a testament to the big sleep.

The elevation of so-called heroes, at a distance, is merely another strategy to extend that sleep.

“But we need heroes.”

Nothing I’m writing here refutes that. If we need heroes, it’s to inspire action. ACTION.

Otherwise, people elevate heroes as a reason to a) hope and b) then do nothing.

Exit From the Matrix

The elites of this world are perverse artists who paint reality for us. Understanding that, we can become our own artists of reality.

What does that entail? We’ll never know until we start painting. Then things will become clear.

In the battle to decentralize entrenched fascist power, there are already answers and strategies out there. There are thousands more answers that remain to be imagined and created by free, powerful, independent and intensely creative people.

The future is unshaped space and time. You can either shape it or let it shape you.

The latter decision is usually undertaken on an unconscious basis, replete with excuses, denials, complaints, maudlin sentiment, false hope, nostalgia, and hero-worship. It’s a cover story for an op of personal surrender.

Jon Rappoport

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