Man of the World

by Jon Rappoport

June 16, 2015

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

On the night he was born
He stole a billion dollars

Engineered from the mathematics of his crib
He bought and sold oil on paper
And digital gold mines in the Orion Belt

He was taught Homer and the songs of the great wanderers, and at a tender age, strolling through long gardens, bought all the insane asylums in New York State

Upon graduation from an academy no one could find on a map, he wrote a dissertation, My Disenchantment with Non-Lethal Viruses

He rapidly rose in the ranks of an army that was unattached to any nation and he broke ground on a chain of banks invented to launder
Any item in the galaxy that wasn’t nailed down

It was once reported: he loves cats and insects under glass and drinks a glass of sherry before dinner

According to his wife, whom no one knows, when he speaks during dreams at night, he moves fluidly between Latin and 3350 BC Sumerian

He helps the poor
He derides the irresponsibly rich
He wants more trees
And no automobiles
He plans to reincarnate as a pandemic

His name is stricken from all university curricula and rivers run or are dammed by his task forces

He writes: I wonder how I can hold legal title to the night and the mystifying shapes that run across the mind

I wonder how I can reduce the planet to a molecule in a bell jar on my father’s mantle

I wonder if there is a theoretical absolute to how many boxes of crimes within crimes can be structured in a single government

He plays tennis on his lawn Thursday afternoons with an old friend whose face he tries to remember

He opens a safe in his study wall and removes a black box and presses colored buttons whose functions have escaped him

He walks along the old creek on a summer afternoon and thinks back to a time whose images have faded
and may have originally been inserted by a machine

He picks a flower from a grave and pauses to consider whether he is buried there

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 29^th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

Rappoport interviews a dead Albert Einstein

May13

The invention of robot humans

Free will vs. determinism

by Jon Rappoport

May 13, 2015

(To join our email list, click here.)

I love it when people tell me philosophy isn’t important. It makes me feel like a shark in a pool of farmed fish.

I’ll put this simply. If a person doesn’t think having his own philosophic stance is important, then he should consider that other people have philosophies, and they are bent on creating reality FOR him…and in doing so, they use that philosophy “thingo” he doesn’t think matters at all.

And one of the great philosophic issues—it flies under the radar—is free will versus determinism. Determinism means: events and lives and reality itself are a parade of happenings entirely devoid of choice. No freedom.

In labs all over the world, brain researchers are pushing this notion, believing that someday they will be able to control the brain to an absolute degree. For them, you see, it really doesn’t matter what they do to that organ in our skulls and how that will affect the global population…because they’re sure people were never free to begin with.

Get it? So nothing much is riding on the question of free will vs. determinism except the future of the human race.

In the next 50, 100 years, will we see billions of fully-programmed, “new-brain” human androids everywhere, or will freedom survive?

Armed with a philosophy of determinism, researchers will try to install whatever programming they want to, “for the good of all.” And they won’t feel even a twitch of guilt.

I was searching through a 1929 Saturday Evening Post interview with Albert Einstein. I found an interesting quote:

“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.”

I’m always shocked but not surprised when I come across statements like this from scientists.

I guess after Einstein escaped from the Nazis in 1933, he eventually came to America because our brand of no-free-will just happened to be better. Or something.

So I decided to pull Einstein back from the past and engage him in conversation.

Every time I do one of these interviews with dead people, somebody thinks it’s real. I don’t know why. So again, for clarification, this is fiction. However, sometimes fiction makes a point more clearly.

Does free will exist?

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

A (Einstein): 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: Certainly.

Q: Regardless of location.

A: Correct.

Q: So, for example, if we analyze the brain into its constituent elements, we find those same tiny particles, which are no different in kind from other sub-atomic particles anywhere in the universe.

A: That’s true. Actually, everything inside the human body is composed 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 avoid that conclusion.

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 or what some would call the mind 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 it’s deterministic destiny. The particles flow.

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

A: The act of considering is not done freely with a range of possible choices. I know that sounds harsh. It may be hard to swallow. But there is no free will.

Q: The notion of considering is, you might say, a cultural or social delusion.

A: I guess that’s so, yes.

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 the products of 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.

Q: And we are in that flow.

A: Most certainly we are.

Q: But the earnestness with which we try to settle the issue of free will versus determinism, the application of feeling and thought and striving—all 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. Yes.

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

A: Of course not.

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: That’s hard to say.

Q: Is imagination made up of the same tiny particles that inhabit the whole universe?

A: That’s an odd idea.

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

A: I see. Well, no, they aren’t. Because everything is particles in motion. What else could be happening in this universe?

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.

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

A: No they don’t. They just are.

Q: And does “they just are” include understanding?

A: No.

Q: Then, 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? Is it just an automatic reflex, a delusion, as “being conscious” is a delusion, as “understanding” is a delusion?

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. There would nowhere for it to come from. Unless particles understand. Do they?

A: No.

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

A: They are facts.

Q: Based on what?

A: …I don’t know.

Q: If we accept your depiction of a universe of particles without free will, then there is no basis for this conversation at all. We don’t understand each other. How could we? We are not truly conscious, we are making sounds, we are “going back and forth,” the outcome is not within our choice, and we don’t understand what we are saying to each other. Again, there is no room for understanding in your universe.

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: What would that be?

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

A: It would have to be.

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.

A: But that would open the door to all the religions that have fought with each for centuries.

Q: Why? Does “non-material” of necessity translate into “religion?”

A: Well, no, I suppose not. But non-material consciousness would certainly be a mystery.

Q: Is that acceptable?

A: The mystery?

Q: As we sit here talking, I understand you. Do you understand me?

A: Of course.

Q: Then that is coming from something other than particles in motion. And freedom would be another quality, a non-material quality that exceeds the “grasp” of particles in motion. In fact, without these non-material qualities, you and I would be gibbering and pretending to understand each other. And both the gibber and the pretense would be no more important than a rock developing a trace of fungus after a thousand years.

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

Q: Yes. That’s what I’m saying.

A: Well…

Q: There are many people who would say this conversation is terribly old-fashioned and outmoded—and much newer concepts on the frontier of exploration have relegated what we are talking about to the dustbin of a bygone era.

A: Yes. But I could also say the notion of solid objects is passe, because we know nothing is actually solid. However, as long as I can stub my toe on a rock and break the toe, the notion of solidity is still relevant.

Q: So you believe what we’ve been discussing here is significant.

A: I do.

Q: And you admit your view of determinism and particles in motion—this picture of the universe—leads to several absurdities.

A: I’m forced to. Otherwise, this very conversation is absurd to a degree I can’t fathom.

Q: You and I understand each other. What we are saying has meaning.

A: I had not thought it through all the way before, but if there is nothing inherent in particles and their processes that gives rise to understanding and meaning, then everything, and I mean everything, is gibberish. Except it isn’t gibberish. I see the contradiction. The absurdity.

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

A: For example, freedom. Yes.

Q: And the drive to eliminate freedom in the world…is more than just the unimportant pre-determined attempt to substitute one delusion for another, one reflex for another.

A: That would be…yes, that’s so.

Q: In one way or another, there is a great impulse to deny the non-materiality of the qualities that are inherent to human life. There is a reason for this impulse. Scientists, for example, would be absolutely furious about the idea that, despite all their maneuvering and discovering in the physical and material realm, 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 their power. You know, I don’t like leaving this mystery hanging in the air.

Q: Which mystery is that?

A: We’ve come to agree that basic qualities of human life—meaning, understanding, consciousness, freedom—would have to be non-material. But where does that leave us? “Where” is the non-materiality?

Q: It’s certainly not going to be in the physical universe. By definition, that would be impossible.

A: I know. I can see that.

Q: Let me suggest that your capacity to understand, your ability to comprehend meaning, your freedom, your consciousness, are wherever YOU ARE.

A: I’ll have to think about that.

Q: I could say, “Well, you see, throughout the universe there are other levels of energy, and they aren’t based on atomic or sub-atomic particles. These other energies are ‘spiritual,’ they are most certainly conscious, and they impart to us our capacity to understand, to comprehend meaning, to have freedom, to imagine, and so on. This other energy is part of our very consciousness, or our consciousness is an aspect of this other energy.”

A: You could say that, yes. But that’s just a convoluted way of asserting that consciousness, meaning, understanding, freedom, ad imagination are beyond the realm of physical causation. It’s a hypothesis that doesn’t open the door to actual research, to science. To me, it’s just a kind of passive, permissive religion.

Q: Not only that, it tends to allow the idea that freedom, free choice are not really our own, and therefore, we don’t have to pay any price for the choices we make. We can become passive and quietly pass the buck to “the universe.” I’ve seen that outcome in many people who take this “cosmic view” of energy.

A: I wouldn’t like that at all. If we’re going to let freedom in the door, then we need to act on it in a dynamic way, and also accept the results of the free choices we make.

—end of interview—

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

Einstein disappeared in a puff of wind, and I saw a note he left on my kitchen table. I went over to it and read it:

“If everything in the universe is composed of sub-atomic particles, including us, then this conversation and its outcome are HG^&&%DSE^. Gibberish. If there truly is freedom, consciousness, meaning, and understanding, then each one of us is, at the root, a non-material being.”

I put the note down.

Finally, consider that, for a non-material being operating with a physical form called the body, perhaps his most valuable adjunct, aid, and “assistant” in that partnership is the brain.

Scientists and elite planners believe the brain can be programmed and reprogrammed and surgically altered at will, because freedom has never existed.

They believe they’re simply changing the specifications of a robot, an android.

Actually, they’re interrupting and changing a vital link between the non-material and free and conscious YOU and your brain, in order to make your potential actions simpler and less capable.

The result would be a civilization of androids.

Which says a great deal about the importance of that rejected item called philosophy.

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 29^th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at NoMoreFakeNews.com or OutsideTheRealityMachine.

State of Man, Man of State

Apr7

State of Man, Man of State

by Jon Rappoport

April 7, 2015

NoMoreFakeNews.com

OutsideTheRealityMachine

Someone came down and took a tour of the planet. This was after the collapse and the chaos and the ascendance of new gods and it was after the renaissance of the old gods and their destruction as well. Someone came down and toured the landscapes.

The landscapes were made of the material of the bodies and brains and minds and memories and thoughts of the old inhabitants. The landscapes were made of their passive indifference and their whining and complaining and their beliefs that nothing could be done to change the course of history, but of course history is always in flux.

Someone came down and explored and investigated the depth of the old inhabitants’ acquiescence. Someone came down and explored their acceptance of things as they were. Someone examined their final willingness to be absorbed into the mass, the group, and to develop a steady-state amnesia about their own individual power to create something far, far different from the collective space-time machine they came to call Love, at the very last, at the very last moments before the collapse.

He made notes and returned to the place from which he came…

THE STATE wants to take you into the great glob
The Velveeta cosmic glut

THE STATE loves you and wants to put you in a cradle and play quiet music and bring down the stars and put them in your hand
IT wants you to do nothing because nothing is easy
IT wants you to think nothing and listen to your mind scraping against itself like a worn wheel

Just read words
Just read words
Just read words
And let them sink, let them sink to the bottom of the well where they drop out of sight

Go on as if nothing has happened
Nothing has happened
It was all an illusion

The buildings will take you in
The offices will take you in
The workers will take you in
Go on as if nothing has happened

Look at the wooden face of the President
Look at the wooden faces of the Congress
Look at the wooden faces of the Supreme Court Justices
Look at the wooden faces of the FBI
Look at the wooden face of God

Nothing has happened
It was all an illusion
A long time ago something may have happened
But since then the quiet has increased

THE STATE has taken over
How could it have been any other way
There is absolutely nothing to worry about
Or
There is everything to worry about
But they are equal
They are the same
champions of equilibrium
There is nothing
Gigantic and dangerous
Waiting for you to invent it
There is nothing you need to do
THE STATE and THE UNIVERSE will take care of you in a great ice cream park

The sand on the beach will grind down into water and the water will turn into sand in the job called the mind

That is your job achieving a great equality of mind

And occasionally in the middle of the night
You can shout
What can we do
What can we do
What can we do
What can we do

And you can expect an answer

And you can listen
And listen
And listen

And then you can discover inch by inch that contrary to everything you believe you are talking
To yourself

Not anyone else
No one else
Nothing else

That was all an illusion

Your hand reaching out in the darkness
Is a hand of entreaty, an old-master hand
A hand pleading
Your case

And then the fingers curl
And you feel
Coming up through your spine
The unwanted electricity of a heroic gesture

Which according to the library of all facts is entirely obsolete
It would be mad to feel it
It would be a betrayal
A mark of insanity
A thousand mile an hour roll of the dice

It would be
Action
taken without consultation
destroying the symmetry of
WE

Destroying the blank face on the blank building in the blank city

These are the mantras:
You are nothing
You make nothing
You invent nothing

You accept what
spools you out
A long thread in a dead loom

You accept that all words are dead before they are spoken
You quietly know all there is to know

You are Citizen

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 29^th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at NoMoreFakeNews.com or OutsideTheRealityMachine.

Vaccine Woman

Apr6

by Jon Rappoport

April 6, 2015

(To join our email list, click here.)

there was no way to deny it or get around it
her little boy started screaming after the shot
and then 2 days later
the world shut down

he sat in a corner
he lay in his bed
he didn’t talk

the doctor huffed and puffed and tap danced in back of his steady blank eyes
he assured her this had nothing to do with the shot
it was a predisposition or a genetic trait or a precondition

he smiled now and then
he said autism could have emerged just after the shot was given
the universe rearranged itself
at that moment

there was no getting around it
she saw she was talking to a psychopath trained in the art of knowing everything there was to know
he had been a machine for a long long time

she went into the darkness and pleaded her case before a government committee
they sat like ancient high priests
and listened and glanced at documents
and when they had permitted her the allotted time they handed down their judgment:

she went home and took her boy in her arms
he was still
he didn’t look at her
he didn’t speak

she consulted a lawyer
who told her
the company was protected by an iron wall
they would continue to make the vaccine and sell it
and pocket billions

the long night was closing in
the storm was here
the silent boy was sitting in the eye

rage was burning in the middle of her chest

a rage the public would see as insanity

from their distance, the moon and the stars might know
what was going on
but people in their everyday straitjackets
would lash out at her
because they needed a target,
they needed a defector from their own slave shuffle to ridicule

they were good, they obeyed all the small print
they were neutered in their cores
paralytics

but she is not alone
there are other mothers
and there is a strange

two-edged sword in the empire

that cuts away the web
and comes to the spider

no matter what defamation
the intermediary whores
of the press
lay at her door

Vaccine Woman

###

(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 29^th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

Monsanto Man

Apr6

The Monsanto Man

by Jon Rappoport

April 6, 2015

NoMoreFakeNews.com

OutsideTheRealityMachine

the faces at the bar just want the news
smooth lines
a little dip here, a little wave there
you know, professional
sleep

music is playing
some old sentimental country tune
“she left him” “he left her” whatever the hell it was

3am stumbling from his seat to the bathroom
Jack is counting his change
that’s all he’s got left

after The Company raped his land
giant superweeds are all Jack’s got left

so Jack sprays Paraquat and 24d on the weeds
la la la

he has to buy new seeds every year from Monsanto
la la la

(and when The Man found Jack had inadvertently used Roundup Ready seeds without paying for them he sued Jack)
la la la

3am stumbling back to his seat at the bar
Jack still doesn’t know what hit him

the tune keeps playing
“he left her” “she left him” whatever the hell it was

the faces at the bar look at Jack
they have no idea what he’s been through
the faces at the bar are watching the news replay
another drone attack
baby diapers
restless legs
neutralize stomach acid
invisible makeup
GE, Pfizer, Glaxo, Syngenta

“he left her” “she left him” whatever the hell it was

one drunk at the end of the bar says “it’s a strange night”
everybody stops and listens

they don’t know it but they’re hearing a giant wave of poison coming out of St. Louis
towering above
the plains

So deep, so blue the night
so quiet
there’s a painting hanging above the bar
a man wearing a cowboy hat
his lips curled in an old sneer

Jack holds up his hands
and says
“my family was on this land for a hundred years
do you know what that means
do you know what that means every day
and now the lights go off
the lights go off
they want me to sell
I fell for their pitch
they took me to the cleaners”

numb faces at the bar
listen to the sound of the rising wave of poison

they don’t know what Jack means
but they get the gist

a woman screams
everybody can hear rain on the metal roof like bullets

“he left her” “she left him” whatever the hell it was

the bartender says, “yeah, well, my ass hurts”
and everybody starts laughing
they laugh
&laugh
tears roll down their cheeks
they pound their heads on the bar
they fall off their stools
they roll on the floor
they’re yelling and picking up chairs and throwing them

and now the President comes on the news and says

“we’re all in this together”

a TV news crew busts in with lights

the TV reporter a brittle blonde with skinny legs says out of nowhere as she looks around the room, “man, I need some action tonight”

then she addresses the bar
“are we talking about a death machine here, people? or do you want me to keep it polite? shall we all skate and pretend it’s good? shall we sit down and have a meeting and analyze what’s happening and deliver a report?…”

people in the bar stare at the camera for a long time…
then they say
death machine
they say death machine

“he left her” “she left him” whatever the hell it was

the tune ends

who are the soldiers who go out into the fields of America and Africa and Asia
and South America to push food
changed forever
into the mouths of wasting humans

pockets empty
Jack walks out of the bar into the rain
and moves along the road
under the sky
and begins to stride
his pulse picks up

a
human but more than an ordinary human on the earth

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 29^th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at NoMoreFakeNews.com or OutsideTheRealityMachine.

Imagination vs. Reality

Mar29

Imagination vs. Reality

~a short story~

by Jon Rappoport

March 29, 2015

NoMoreFakeNews.com

OutsideTheRealityMachine

On December 4, 2061, a federal agent appeared at the home of John Q Jones, a writer living in Cincinnati.

He showed Jones a copy of the beginning of an article Jones had written on his computer.

This was the text:

At one time, all reality was imagination. You could be talking about tables and chairs, cars, factories, roads, engines, beds, computers…and you could also be talking about trees, bushes, deserts, rivers, animals.

From another angle, reality is the condition of being accustomed to something. There it is, and there it has been for a while.

Reality sets in like a meal after you’ve eaten it.

Reality is acceptance. It’s framework, context, territory inside which a person acquiesces. And makes do. And lives.

He enjoys that space, or doesn’t like it, or forgets it even exists.

When, eventually, he gives up the ghost (his body), he leaves, he goes away, and if he’s conscious, he says, “Well, I was living in that space, that reality.”

A painter who stands before a blank canvas is acutely aware of the space. He knows he can imagine and make anything happen on it. The forms, colors, shapes, energies, narratives can be continuous or discontinuous. They can come alive or lie there like a dead cat.

He can always be beginning or he can always be painting the last stroke. He can scrape away a section, paint over it, add, subtract, build borders or knock them apart.

Acceptance, familiarity, acquiescence? Why bother? It’s all new.

It’s a dream, or a dozen dreams colliding. The painter invents his own logic.

Ordinary reality fits and interlocks and evolves. It operates by laws. It entices devotees toward more discovery. It has one system of logic—and if you can’t learn it, you stumble. Badly.

But beyond that knowledge, imagination sits on a cliff or a thousand cliffs, waiting, ready to go, looking for a signal. It can remain there until the sun collapses and goes dark. But when the person with that dormant imagination decides it’s time, everything changes…

The federal agent said, “Mr. Jones, the NSA intercepted your work and sent a query to our office.”

“What kind of query,” Jones said.

“It’s called a 546 A. It means the capture system was unable to process your text. It made no sense.”

“And you’d like me to explain what these words mean?” Jones said. “I can’t. They explain themselves.”

“Yes, well, the disturbing aspect…you seem to be saying reality is only…temporary.”

“So?” Jones said. “What’s the problem?”

“People reading your document could become confused. They could fail to differentiate fact from fiction.”

“Happens all the time,” Jones said. “People don’t need my words to make that mistake.”

The agent stared at Jones.

“I’m not here to debate that, Mr. Jones,” he said. “I’m here to prevent the contagion of uncertainty. It’s against the law to defame reality, because we establish reality.”

“And who is we?” Jones said.

“We secure the State. We can’t have people proposing something vague and unsettling that exists…beyond that.”

“So I’m a criminal?”

“Well,” the agent said, “with our help, you could become an ally. You could continue your work as one of us. We would give you slightly ‘edgy’ ideas to transmit under your name—and we would see where your words travel, who picks them up, who agrees with them, who is tempted to move beyond the consensus. You would be doing your country a service.”

“I would become an agent.”

“Yes. A valuable one.”

Jones said, “But you see, those words I wrote…they’re true. Reality is just a habit, an addiction. It’s useful, I don’t deny that. But it’s eventually pernicious. It ultimately puts everybody to sleep. It makes people into loyal robots. I’m tired of that. I’ve lost my patience.”

“Would you prefer I arrest you and send you for reeducation training?” the agent said. “You’d learn that all the prophets and the messiahs have already come and delivered their messages, and it’s now our job to align our actions and thoughts with the greatest good for all.”

“As you define it.”

“As we define it.”

Jones nodded.

“Right now,” he said, “I’m only interested in one thing. Did you understand what I wrote, Agent? Forget what other people might think when they read my piece. Forget the effect it might have on them. Forget the general good. Forget all that proprietary meddling.”

“No, Mr. Jones. You misunderstand. I’m not me. There is no me. There is no you. There is only and always all of us. Together. And in that context, what ‘you’ wrote is significant, because it could disturb the Field. What people might believe when they read what you wrote is of paramount importance. It’s the only important consideration.”

Jones laughed.

“This is very entertaining,” he said. “I have a little secret, Agent. You know what it is? I can see your imagination. Right here, right now. You’re busy trying to kill it. You’re rationalizing that act of murder—as futile as it is—on the basis of what’s necessary for Everybody.”

John Q Jones vanished.

The agent was in the room alone.

He looked around.

He started sweating.

He took out his gun.

He stood there for a long time.

Finally, he put the gun away and walked out of the room.

He walked out of the building on to the street.

The street was crowded with strangers. Cars moved along slowly. On the side of a huge building, news images flashed and changed. Words crawled.

He heard a voice in his head:

“Agent, stay where you are. We’re coming to get you. You’re experiencing a transient episode. We’ll be there in under three minutes. Mr. Jones was a hologram. A plant. The enemy is playing tricks. We’re equipped to handle it. Don’t worry.”

The transmission ended.

The agent breathed in and out slowly. He waited.

He noticed he was standing outside an art gallery. He could see paintings on the walls.

A woman was sitting at a desk. She looked up and saw him. She smiled.

She waved for him to come in.

He stood there, not knowing what to do.

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 29^th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at NoMoreFakeNews.com or OutsideTheRealityMachine.

Freedom and the people who hate freedom

Nov2

Freedom and the people who hate freedom

by Jon Rappoport

November 2, 2014

NoMoreFakeNews.com

The document was discovered by a public welfare officer conducting a routine search of a barn in southern Ohio.

He immediately forwarded it to the Department of Universal Investigations, in Denver, where it was analyzed by a TSA computer on loan from the NSA Federal Guardianship Force On Behalf Of The People II.

Linguistic comparisons were run. No matches were found.

A search was initiated under the direction of the federally funded Ohio Victim Society.

Three weeks later, Citizen John Q Jones A-53-7D was arrested on a defunct Roundup Ready corn plantation outside Gary, Indiana.

The North American Regional Council Committee For Anthropological Symmetry and Neo Cultural Diversity held a preliminary hearing in a conference lounge at the abandoned Ebola O’Hare Airport in Chicago.

The document was read out loud by a Clerk of the Court.

It was titled: Freedom and the People Who Hate It:

“They try to attack freedom, but in the process they make themselves into more grotesque versions of themselves.

“They’re leeches. They’re incapable of making up their minds. They hate freedom, but at the same time they’re desperate to attach themselves to some symbol or person that represents it.

“They feel trapped and they are—but not through the actions of anyone else. They’re drowning in their own juices.

“They’re afraid. They can’t stand on their own. They can’t become known for a single idea of their own.

“They join groups, knowing in advance, deep down, that the whole enterprise will become a failure for them. They’ll never find what they’re looking for.

“Eventually, they will find something: a leader who is a psychopath, who seems to embody power, but who is merely looking to draw in followers and make them into servants.

“This isn’t a political drama. It’s a personal one: life against death.

“The person who hates freedom is against life and for death, no matter what he says, no matter what he does. He can’t escape.

“So he does what he does. He passes death around. He may dress it up and disguise it; he may turn it into the most elevated humanitarian sentiment; but it’s still death.

“When even this fails to satisfy him, he descends to a lower level, and joins the whole of society, which is teeming with people who are becoming robots. They inhabit the full range of the political spectrum, regardless of platforms and ideals.

“They are self-created machines. They babble, support, defend, deny, and all the while they’re living in a world of extinct symbols.

“They’re in the mass, the collective.

“They’re utterly dependent on one another, and they trade the dependence back and forth, like obsolete currency.

“Now and then, they see lone boats of freedom moving by, and they desperately reach out, not knowing why. Climb on board, sink the boat; they’re unable to make the distinction.

“Freedom isn’t a given. It never was.

“It isn’t only an idea. It requires a person who can wear it and make it mean something.

“The winds come and go. The rain comes and goes. The boat keeps moving.

“Who’s steering it?

“No one knows. No one else knows.

“Only the person steering it knows.”

The six members of the Council Committee breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm themselves.

They turned to their chairman, Francis X Muhammed Schwartzman Ragan Hochslinger, who nodded, folded his hands under his chin, and pursed his lips.

“Yes,” he said. “I thought we had bred this sort of sentiment out of the body politic a long, long time ago, but apparently a mutation still survives, and it must be treated, it must undergo therapy, in order to reduce it back down to a virus, after which we can develop a vaccine, and therefore in that sense it is quite valuable and must be handled with great care, so as to preserve it in purified form. Naturally, everyone in this room will be quarantined for 42 days, to ensure we are not infected, and as for the author of the text, he must be transported to a secure P-6 facility, in utter silence.”

The Chairman glanced at Jones.

But there was no one there.

Aside from the Council Committee and the National Police Officer Guards, the room was empty.

Where was Jones?

The same thought suddenly appeared in the minds of the people in the room:

Had Jones been present and then vanished? Was there a John Q Jones?

No one seemed to know.

Jon Rappoport

The Blockbuster film called Reality

Oct2

The Blockbuster film called Reality

by Jon Rappoport

October 2, 2014

NoMoreFakeNews.com

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

“Is this a good idea?” “I should have stayed away.”

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. Yes, a small cottage at the edge of an industrial town. There will be 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.

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

Now you do. “Beautiful, lovely, happy.” Over and over.

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 alongside your cottage.

You’re home.

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

You recognize your consciousness 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…It’s stamped on every object in this space…

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

You keep staring at the cottage and you see space.

You see 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, 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 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.

Jon Rappoport

Interviewing the dead Albert Einstein about free will

Sep21

Interviewing the dead Albert Einstein about free will

by Jon Rappoport

September 21, 2014

NoMoreFakeNews.com

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:

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 of the same elements, 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 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.

A: I may not like it, but 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?

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 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 without free will, 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…

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: In one way or another, there is a great impulse to deny the non-materiality of the qualities that are inherent to human life. Scientists, for example, 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.”

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.”

Jon Rappoport

The war against the mind

Aug9

The war against the mind

by Jon Rappoport

August 9, 2014

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, 2013)

Peter Expert Pundit, who has appeared on over a thousand television news-talk shows, sits in front of a mirror and combs his hair. He applies a bit of powder to his cheeks.

He’s despondent. The networks haven’t been calling lately.

His specialty is war. When troops invade and planes drop bombs, he’s busy making trenchant comments on the news. These days, things are too quiet.

He longs for the war that wasn’t. Syria.

A voice in Peter Pundit’s head begins talking. He likes it. He wishes he could use it in public.

The voice says:

“They used chemical weapons, so they’ll pay!

“Welcome to the Syrian theater! All the players are assembled. Which one will intervene and turn a two-day blitz into a global conflagration?

“We realize you don’t have whatever it takes to actually enlist in the Armed Forces and do six insane tours in Afghanistan building A-frames and wondering when one of those villagers will shoot you in the head. No problem. You can experience a very good simulacrum in your own mind. The anticipation. The adrenaline flow. The sweaty palms. Then the limbic thrust of revenge. Just watch the news.

“Boom! You’re there. The attack is on! The sky over Damascus lights up! What unknown newsman, standing on a rooftop, narrating the unfolding scene, will emerge from the carnage with name recognition and a sudden career bump that makes his colleagues want to murder him in his sleep?

“America is united again. Feel it. What took us so long to find each other once more? Post your experience on Facebook. Share your ecstasy with faux friends. Recite the Pledge of Allegiance against a hip-hop track and hope it goes viral.

“This is the Show! This is what counts! Pretext? Invented provocation? False flag? Don’t bother me, I’m eating war!

“If your brother-in-law is over at the house as you watch the missile strike and he says, ‘You know, there’s no good proof Assad used poison gas,’ poke him in the eye with a sizzling hot dog on a stick and yell, ‘USA! USA! USA!’

“You might also try, ‘Obamacare! Immigration reform! Climate change! Carbon tax! NSA! Surveillance State! Gun control! Drone attacks!’

“Who cares about Fast&Furious, the IRS non-profit division, Benghazi? They’re in the rearview mirror and we’re accelerating down the superhighway.

“Mind-controlled androids? Yup. This is who we are! Love it, live it, watch it, soak it in!

The voice in Peter Pundit’s head fades out and he’s left sitting in front of the mirror wishing for what might have been. He could have done Meet the Press and Face the Nation on the same Sunday. He could have been the man with his prurient hand on the pulse of the nation.

He could have praised the President, the troops, the State Department, the Joint Chiefs for their perspicacity. He could have looked onto the camera with stony eyes, as if he were a warrior, instead of a second rate chess player in the Club at Yale so many years ago, when his fantasies had gone down the drain.

Perhaps he could have parlayed his Syrian TV stint into a diplomatic assignment abroad. London, Paris.

He could have spread tax dollars around for dinners with beautiful women, and then somewhere, in a dark hotel room, he could have heard one of those women whisper in his ear, “Peter Pundit, you’re a man. A lion.”

Oh well. Perhaps it’s time to change the tune. He could develop a new specialty. The share-and-care agenda. We’re all in this together. With this in tow, he’d surely obtain some face time on television. No more stony gaze. Instead, a look of empathy. Yes.

And he could still live in his nice house in the suburbs and really not care one whit about those who are suffering.

There’s always a payoff to be had. You just have to find it.

And Peter Pundit eventually did find it…in an unexpected place. One day, he pulled a book off the shelf in his library:

“The Ancient Roman Empire Pulled Off the Greatest Trick in the History of the World As It Was Fading Into Oblivion, It Created War By Other Means, War On The Mind, In The Form Of The Roman Church Which Defined Reality For The Masses.”

A few days later, when Peter finished reading the book, he knew what his mission was.

He would pitch The New Future.

He obtained a job interview with DARPA, the high-tech research group at the Pentagon.

In a hotel room in Virginia, he spoke to three men from DARPA’s personnel department. But he didn’t talk about himself. He launched into a speech. The speech fleshed out his titanic vision:

“Sign up now 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 post-op 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 can’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 subconscious generalizations (or premises) deemed to be truthful;

“a subconscious deductive logic program;

“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.

“It produces an answer, a solution. Your solution.

“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 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 overall programmed space of consciousness.

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

“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.

“Thought-forms called Border Collies will continuously roam the space of your mind and organize stray electrical effects, bringing them into symmetrical, simplistic, geometric 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, and beam them directly into the minds of our soldiers on the battlefield, to help them wreak destruction on the enemy.

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

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

“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.

“People self-policed and trimmed their own thoughts.

“The Surveillance State was really the first crude new-mind surgery.

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

“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 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.”

When Peter Pundit stopped talking, there was a space of silence in the hotel room.

Peter looked at the three DARPA men and saw they were quietly weeping.

They were weeping and nodding.

One of them finally said, “This is it.”

Another said, “This is the vision. You understand it, Peter. The big picture.”

The third man wiped away his tears with his sleeve, cleared his throat, and said, “Beautiful. Just beautiful, Peter.”

The first man said, “Unfortunately, Peter, this program must remain secret. If the population knew what we were really aiming for, they’d hang us in the town square. Don’t get me wrong. You see the future. You really do. And men like us need you, from time to time, to remind us of what that future looks like and why we’re working so hard to achieve it. DARPA needs you.”

The second man said, “So, Peter, we’re going to give you a job. It’ll be your cover. No one will know your real function—to speak to us at secret meetings like this one. To keep us on track. To inspire us. To hold us in the highest regard.”

And that is how, a month later, Peter Pundit found himself sweeping floors and emptying garbage cans at a small DARPA office in Bethesda, Maryland.

“Yes,” he thought, as he dusted the walls in the men’s room, “this is the perfect cover. No one will guess what I’m really doing here.”

He would wait for the call.

It would come.

He would be ready to speak, as a kind of priest, to the elite.

Finally, his life had meaning.

Jon Rappoport

Jon Rappoport's Blog

NoMoreFakeNews.com

Category Archives: Short Stories

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