Everything is energy. All is number.* In every formulation the components and activators, conscious or unconscious, have to be compatible to manifest, no matter the morality of the intention for whatever it is it will do, or be used for. This holds true for everything, every incident, and everyone. As numerals and letters are really only codes for energetic patterns, and their combinations and are used in formulae with designated functions and behaviour, they too abide by this rule, and therefore influence and assist in manufacturing character, incidents, and situations. This is not ordained information and so it ricochets off orthodox believers and system-dulled comprehension (as it is meant to) and thus its secrets, through the ages, have been, and are, controlled and wielded by a very few individuals and groups; most of whom are resolute in their ambition to dispose of human beings and replace them…
…but through the application of such interpretive sciences as Numerosymbology the traces of their dark orchestrations are revealed.
Ellis Taylor: Part 2 of of Re-Riting our World: How it’s done.
Robert Phoenix: Mars Retrograding Back To Nam, Friday FARcast With Perry Ulander
Julian Rose: Seven Stumbling Blocks on the Road to Consciousness
Ellis Taylor: A recent strange experience of mine.
John Beckett: The Otherworld is Bleeding Through
An article from 2004. I got it wrong….and I got it right…
It has been suggested by many readers since that the huge attention this article received just might have put a spanner in their works causing a nifty shuffle here and there but essentially presenting the same elements contrived. Maybe, I don’t know but as Klingon Clinton has never gone away I thought the piece deserved a repost.
(There’s also an additional quick mench of, and squizz at, the Samhain U.S. election candidates Lairy and Trump-ed up at the end.)
Chris Turner and Daniel Rogerson, the producers of the top-notch revelatory documentary, Don’t Mention the Reptilians, have announced their conference, Repcon, and they’ve kindly asked me to speak at it.
It was thirteen minutes after 3:00 a.m. on a dark and rainy Sunday morning. A doctor was carefully driving home from a hospital.*
*Following data taken from the World Illustrated publication: No. 513.
Only a fool or a doctor would be out on a night like this, thought the doctor, as he drove toward a cemetery.
Suddenly the car lights revealed a bus shelter along the road. It was at the entrance to the cemetery. In the shelter stood a young girl.
“What in the world?” the surprised doctor muttered. She’s all alone … at this hour of the night.
The doctor stopped his car, opened the passenger door and yelled, “The last bus left hours ago. Better let me give you a lift.” Impossible to Believe: A Ghostly Hitchhiker!