Michael Hoffman’s Twilight Language: “The majority of Americans have been processed as initiates. They are ‘Masons on sight,’ i.e. members of the secret society without knowing it . . . The alchemical processing of humanity is ahead of schedule. People are becoming less human and far more numb and easily misdirected, as the Reign of Dead Matter appears on the horizon.”
Much has been written about this “American nuclear tragedy.” Public health was secondary to national security. The Atomic Energy Commissioner, Thomas Murray, said, “Gentlemen, we must not let anything interfere with this series of tests, nothing.”
Again and again, the American public was told by its government, in spite of burns, blisters, and nausea, “It has been found that the tests may be conducted with adequate assurance of safety under conditions prevailing at the bombing reservation.” Assuaging public fears was simply a matter of public relations. “Your best action,” an Atomic Energy Commission booklet read, “is not to be worried about fallout.” A news release typical of the times stated, “We find no basis for concluding that harm to any individual has resulted from radioactive fallout.” (from Terry Tempest Williams, “Clan of the One-Breasted Women“)
Facebook’s new name, Meta (Metaverse), means “dead” in Hebrew! Oh, the irony? But first, nature’s ecosystems —
“Kuletz, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife biologist who has been observing birds in Alaska since the late 1970s, said she’s never before seen the large-scale changes of recent years. In 2013, the dead birds did not show signs of being emaciated, but in 2017, hundreds to thousands more began to wash up dead on beaches with clear signs of starvation.” (LA Times)
Los Angeles Times, staff writer Susan Rust wrote, “Forces profound and alarming are reshaping the upper reaches of the North Pacific and Arctic oceans, breaking the food chain that supports billions of creatures and one of the world’s most important fisheries.”
The news, of course, just gets worse. You see, the SARS-MERS-DARPA planned pandemic, inflation, climate change, Trump LLC, all of that, and, well, let’s look deep at making human bodies machines, using biology, bacteria: “Physical Channel Characterization for Medium-Range/Nano-Networks using Flagellated Bacteria” by Maria Gregorib, Ignacio Llatsera, Albert Cabellos-Aparicioa, Eduard Alarc´ona (source)
Nano-networks are the interconnection of nano-machines and as such expand the limited capabilities of a single nano-machine. Several techniques have been proposed so far to interconnect nano-machines. For short distances (nm-mm ranges), researchers are proposing to use molecular motors
and calcium signaling. For long distances (mm-m), pheromones are envisioned to transport information. In this work we propose a new mechanism for medium-range communications (nm-µm): flagellated bacteria. This technique is based on the transport of DNA-encoded information between emitters and receivers by means of a bacterium. We present a physical channel characterization and a simulator that, based on the previous characterization, simulates the transmission of a DNA-packet between two nano-machines.
And we have faith in science. This science? You have to look deeply at the patents, too, so read the article cited below by Stephers, and then hit the comments with links and research galore. Yeah, we trust the science. This phrase is bonkers. We have stiff-arm saluted S.T.E.M. to the point of insanity, and what you can read in this article is all about 5 G and 6 G and total transhumanism. Think 2050. Those of us who might be alive and attempting to not comply, well, the idea is this shit, this delivery system, can be aerisolized, all the digital viruses, all of it, brought to unknowing humanity through, well, contrails, chemtrails, or just the food and clothing and crap in machines, i.e. electronics, off-gassing and out gassing. This is the Mount Everest moment in plain sight — if it’s there, then we have to climb it. If we can, then we have to do it. Sure, trust those scientists, all of them with precautionary principles heaped up and immolated. No concerns about the actual unintended consequences. All driven by profit, not for public good, or public serevice. Sure, those scientists, trust ’em.
As if the world, the average Joe and Jane, really have the bandwidth for all of this, scouring these deep articles, the entire story retold, worked, and then connected, with critical thinking, i.e. systems thinking. With Corona-H1N1-SARS-MERS fear factor, militarized and weaponized, on genetically altered, spliced, steroids.
Universal vaccines? Boosters to just be allowed to take a crap in a public restroom? This is beyond Dystopia. U of O and OSU, here in Oregon, demanding boosters. There you have it, two science institutions (trust the science) mandating beyond vax for young and old. Mandates are here to stay.
Then think about these contrasting stories, no — marine life collapsing, globally, and then, the human body used for, hmm, did you get this? Energy. It only gets worse. Human data collecting, human energy tapping. This, again, is being done by “trust the science” gals and guys. Those scientists~!
These are the roaring 20’s, quite the times, for sure, and so many people are heads-in-the-sand Homo Consumopithecus subspecies. Yet, the big boys, the Billionaires, the Technocrats, the investors, and Hedge Funders, all those Top of the Line Epstein Kinda Guys in Nonprofits, FOundations and universities, they have the 19 percent of the population: big bucks for a recent graduate of a state tier one college or Ivy League joint — $300,000 a year, plus bonuses of $60K each year, and, stock options.
The little elves in InSanity Claus’s house of futuristic horrors, doing the dirty deeds for the money. Again, to be repeated — The Point Zero Zero One Percent own 30 Percent, and the One Percent Own 32 percent, and then the 19 Percent own 30 percent. Oh, the irony, the masses, that is, owning 8 percent of wealth (sic) while at the economic-scientific-surveillence-cultural whims of these master race folk.
I see the $300,000 K a year 40 year olds. I see the people in these Hi-Tech companies raking in the bucks, and they are in star chambers, no matter which category of tech they occupy. The key words now are renewable energy. Renewables, which are not renewable, and never were.
As we dig deeper, and sometimes it is an entire different train of digging, we see that WE have to connect these disparate dots. Take this piece, for instance — “The Stench of Digital Dung: Virtual Variants, Trigger Events, and Blockchain Cults” (Source) This is not some conspiracy, Phillip K. Dick nightmare. This is already in the works, has been for decades, and now is supercharged with the fear-fear-fear of the average Joe and Jane, as the media monsters ram the same narratives of CORONA this, and DELTA that down the throats of fucked up Westerner. Read the person’s research and the comments section — Stephers!
Nearly one century ago, Lewis Mumford observed in his magnum opus, Technics in Civilization, that great advances in technology and society come from the intersection of complementary and mainly technological revolutions. Mumford assigned a label . . . to each of history’s modern eras. The first, with its ‘collection of inventions and ideas introduced from about AD 1000 into the eighteenth century,’ Mumford labeled the ‘ecotechnic phase’ . . . The second era, the Industrial Revolution, characterized by advances in ‘materials and power sources,’ he termed the ‘paleotechnic phase’ . . . His own time, the 1930s, which witnessed a flowering of innovation from ‘new alloys, electricity, and improved means of communication,’ he labeled the ‘neotechnic phase,’ (neo, of course for new).
To extend that taxonomy, we propose ‘neurotechnic phase,’ (the Greek root neuron meaning nerves) for the coming long era of growth.
We now enter humanity’s first era of a networked, ubiquitous, and intelligent infrastructure. We do in fact live in time of a ‘new normal.’ But instead of our future being one of perennial slow growth and technological stagnation, it will be just the opposite. The reality is that we, and our children, and grandchildren, live at the beginning of the long neurotechnic phase of civilization, the most exciting and promising time in history.” (p. 327-328)
We have these multiple narratives spinning out there, in the ether, on TV, in the flicks, all over, including blogs and some prescient books. But the masters love the conspiracies, the delving below the surface. They have the patents, and the designs for everything the average person I talk to either do not believe (seeing it as Sci-Fi) or, they take it with the “oh-well, nothing I can do about it” slab of meth.
These people are out in the open, no shame, trust us gals and guys, trust the science, regalling over the take over of society, all sectors of it. That we are in their massive experiment on every level, well, that is icing on their genetically modified cake.
There are people out there digging —
There is digital dung floating around in the ether these days, defined and applied as: symbolic, subliminal clues placed in open sight by the sorcerous system through public rituals, which unconsciously mirror the digitized infrastructure being built inside and around us — by humans, yet not for humans, as it ultimately serves the technological non-human master (the “AI beast”). Accordingly, we do not beneficially reap what we sow, as we increasingly become digitized, remotely-programmable serfs indentured to the Singularity.
Unless you have been living under a rock, undoubtedly, you have heard of one iteration of digital dung. It’s called Omicron. You may have thought it was only the name of a deviant (cough cough, I mean, variant), or an anagram of moronic or oncomir. Word play seems to have had a renaisssance since this mischievous deviant appeared on the scene. I suppose that’s a good sign. Some of us have been playing with words for many years, and it is kind of nice to see others joining in on the decoding amusement. Funny thing, though, there is one underhanded and unremitting thread that I have noticed, which seems to have been omitted from public awareness, and thus, deserves unraveling. Once you see it, I suspect you may not unsee it. Further, you may start to detect the curious pattern elsewhere. Let’s dip our toes into de-occulting this, shall we?
This is super fucked up as the SARS-MERS bioweapon unfolds, hobbles all, and then all these other issues. Climate and earth change. Rising tides is not even taught to youth in schools. Assholes in the Republican Party, et al, wanting to strike the history of racism and police state and slavery and subjugation and Native Land stealing, all the ugly Empire Murdering History of USA. No way, in K12. They have been doing this for a century. Book banning? Come on. Been around forever.
So, how can Americans understand the complexities of climate warming, resource collapsing, biological death, with the Transhumanism agenda? They want their kids in STEM, in tech, doing drone making, drone programming. They want their kids to get $200K a year jobs tweeking nano-things. They want their lives to be followed, from birth canal to grave, FitBit watches, colon micro computers, all systems tracked and monitored and sent to the New Constellation, into Cloud Servers. They have no idea what this Faustian Bargain is. Until we are here, with some scientists hitting the fire alarm, but these guys and gals are laughed at, by, well, of course, the Billionaires, the CEOs and the Republicans. I am not talking about a New Deal for Nature. Green New Deal. Of course not.
|In the reality|
Of many realities
How we see what we see
Affects the quality
Of our reality
We are children of Earth and Sky
DNA descendant now ancestor
Human being physical spirit
Bone flesh blood as spirit
Metal mineral water as spirit
We are in time and space
But we’re from beyond time and space
The past is part of the present
The future is part of the present
Life and being are interwoven
We are the DNA of Earth, Moon, Planets, Stars
We are related to the universal
Creator created creation
Spirit and intelligence with clarity
Being and human as power
We are a part of the memories of evolution
These memories carry knowledge
These memories carry our identity
Beneath race, gender, class, age
Beneath citizen, business, state, religion
We are human beings
And these memories
Are trying to remind us
Human beings, human beings
It’s time to rise up
Remember who we are—
John Trudell, 2001,
What It Means To Be A Human Being,
song recording: These Memories, Star Ancestors
Yet for some scientists, it isn’t easy to reconcile how a system in balance could so quickly go off the rails, even if some species adapt and thrive as others struggle.
“For me, it’s actually very emotional,” said Rick Thoman, the University of Alaska climate specialist, recalling his elementary school days, when he read Jack London’s “To Build a Fire” and other stories from the Arctic.
“The environment that he described, the environment that I saw going through National Geographics in the 1970s? That environment doesn’t exist anymore.”
This is so serious, that the average human watching TV, doing the 8 to 5 pm routine, finding their masks and mandates just a-okay, well, this contrasting narrative — nanotechnology-Internet of the Human Body and then the collapsing world, i.e., seas dying — it just is not of great interest for the average millionaire media mutt, or that $300 K a year STEM soldier, in terms of framing life, framing life aspirations, framing the future when they are all still living in a dream world of technology coming to save the day, when in fact, it is all that technology, from the internal combustion engine onward, that has fucked us up. BIG TIME.
Researchers are focused on ice — or the lack of it — because the frozen ocean is the foundation of the region’s rich ecosystems. It not only keeps the waters beneath it cool, but a layer of algae grows on the underside of these ice sheets — the key to the entire food web.
For eons, as the sun moved south in autumn and the temperatures dropped in the high latitudes, Arctic sea ice thickened near the North Pole. At its edges, it reached its frosty fingers into the inlets along the Chukchi and Beaufort seas, winding its way south through the Bering Strait and into the northern Bering Sea. By March, the northern Bering Sea was typically a vast field of white ice, its edges marked by broken sheets that had been pushed into a vertical position by whipping winds and churning currents below.
But for the last 50 years, as the region’s warm stanzas have increased in duration and intensity, that seasonal ice has dwindled.
The entire shooting match is done with technology, with CRISPR, with the techno-medical fascists wanting more and more research and work around bodily control. And under whose watch? Who said this was fine? This is a script that has been played out since lead in the paint and asbestos in the crib was acceptable? Who approved the better living-dying through chemistry? Who said these scientists got it right, ever? How dare the reader think they know those sorts of scientists. You do not. If Fauci is the New Saint/Angel of Death, then, the reader is more than masked and isolated. Delusional? Or demented!
Here, Terry Tempest Williams, and in this Harvard Divinity School lecture, catch the part where she talks about the biologist at the Mariposa Grove (stand of giant sequoia) actually hearing the trees tell her, speak to her — “We are suffering, we are dying, can you hear us?” Really. A scientist. This happened many times when she was in the Grove. So, this biologist got her team to do a full biological rendering — soil, hydrology and core analysis, the entire suite of biological tests, and they found the trees — 3,000 years old — were dying from over a centuries of pavement, compaction of the roots, no ability to take nutrients to the rest of the trees. Millions of people trampling on the earth. See — Saving Yosemite’s giant trees by ripping out the pavement
Go to minute 37 or 38. Listen. Listen like the biologist. After five years, millions spent — now, a sacred place, with a sign: Can you Hear the Trees?
Imagine, there is no reverence for the human terrain, evidenced by the centuries of poisons, the millenia of weathering by fuedalism and capitalism and war war war. Imagine, 2021 coming to an end, and we have fascism on steroids — not just the racists of Trump-Landia, but the fascism of Biden Build Back Better, hobbling and murdering the peoples of the world with military death equipment and sanctions and you name it.
Tempest Williams talks a lot about her Utah, the uranium, the bomb tests, her family, in an essay, “Clan of the One-Breasted Women,” in her book, Refuge. I’ve been with Terry 15 years ago, in Spokane, where I worked with her and students when she appeared at two or three campuses: she was at two community college campuses where I taught: Spokane Falls Community College and Spokane Community College. She may have appeared at Gonzaga, where I taught. And Whitworth University, where I did not teach but had connections to.
Terry is a political and environmental activist, but the land has sculpted her words. The family and the contradictions of that Mormon upbringing. She is embedded in the original people’s who are the Utes, where she lived, Utah. She has traveled the world, and she has fought wars, fought the mechanized and brutalizing wars of military armies, and the wars against land, people, nature. I have no idea how much she knows about the Fourth Industrial Revolution. I don’t know what her stand is on mandatory vaccines, and if she really has the bandwidth to have dug deep into the poisoning of the world by her government, mine, through pathogens, viruses, through bacterial war, through the dark forces of gain of function science, splitting genes, rapidly morphing an animal virus into a super virus able to go into the human respitory system.
It is a lot of information, and she is a star of sorts, in the literary world. She was open with me, and I was clear with her about the failings of systems, including the exploitation of myself and others as precarious just-in-time part-time faculty at the very schools she was a guest writer. We talked about militancy, and she definitely was open to me, a writer, engaged in so many things for a decade in Spokane, and she knew from our talks I was serious about sustainability, and not the kind with the billionaires and the money grubbers calling the shots. We talked about land, nature, and the people. How the people have to be part of the equation for any land ethic, any environmental policy.
On one hand, sure, I am for bioregional planning, national cooperation, and really ecosocialism — retrenchment from highly impacted areas, and a policy of getting envirogees to be helped. To redo the entire things we have come to accept in predatory, parasetic, destructive capitalism. Yes, that means global cooperation, and not one world government, or anything tied to what World Economic Forum et al have in mind for complete digital gulag life, universal basic income, and this transhumanism.
I know Terry, if we had a deep conversation, would be railing against this transhumanism, this 6 G of 60,000 satellites in space controlling the Internet of Things, the Internet of Biological Things, the Internet of Micro Things. IoT, IoBT, IoMT. I know her, and this discussion has to be tied to the virus, to the Omicron, to the stupidity and hellish mentality of lockdowns, forced vaccinations, forced monitoring, etc. But the onion is a gigantic onion, with millions of layers. How much time does a superstar writer have to pull back the layers?
Here, the reality of the Clan of the One-Breasted Women, the first two pages. Not so far afield from the Clan of the mRNA Universal Yearly Triple Vaccination Men, Women and Children.
It is a lot — Pandemic Parallax View — Apprehending the False Promise of Biosecurity: Unmasking Usurpation by Fear Merchants David T. Ratcliffe, rat haus reality press, 1 Nov 2020 (in process – last updated: 27 Jan 2021)
Here, more grist for the mill —
[B]iosecurity has shown itself capable of presenting the absolute cessation of all political activity and all social relations as the maximum form of civic participation…. At issue is an entire conception of the destinies of human society from a perspective that, in many ways, seems to have adopted the apocalyptic idea of the end of the world from religions which are now in their sunset. Having replaced politics with the economy, now in order to secure governance even this must be integrated with the new paradigm of biosecurity, to which all other exigencies will have to be sacrificed. It is legitimate to ask whether such a society can still be defined as human or whether the loss of sensible relations, of the face, of friendship, of love can be truly compensated for by an abstract and presumably completely fictitious health security. — Giorgio Agamben, Biosecurity and Politics, 11 May 2020
Connect those dots. Science in the employ of the military, those bomb tests in the West, the Downwinders, etc. Terry read my piece in the Spokane Living Magazine: Nuclear Narratives (Part two) And here, Dissident Voice — Hanford — From Nagasaki to Fourth-Generation Spokanites Or Part One, here.
Here, connect the nefarious science of nuclear power, nuclear weapons, the mining, the environmental impacts, the superfund clean up, the death by a million cuts. Science. Scientists. The Clan of the Chronic Illness Children!
The Clan of One-Breasted Women by Terry Tempest Williams
I belong to a Clan of One-Breasted Women. My mother, my grandmothers, and six aunts
have all had mastectomies. Seven are dead. The two who survive have just completed
rounds of chemotherapy and radiation.
I’ve had my own problems: two biopsies for breast cancer and a small tumor removed
between my ribs diagnosed as “a borderline malignancy.”
This is my family history.
Most statistics tell us breast cancer is genetic, hereditary, with rising percentages attached
to fatty diets, childlessness, or becoming pregnant after 30. What they don’t say is living
in Utah may be the greatest hazard of all.
We are a Mormon family with roots in Utah since 1847. The “word of wisdom” in my
family aligned us with good foods–no coffee, no tea, tobacco, or alcohol. For the most
part, our women were finished having their babies by the time they were thirty. And only
one faced breast cancer prior to 1960. Traditionally, as a group of people, Mormons have
a low rate of cancer.
Is our family a cultural anomaly? The truth is, we didn’t think about it. Those who did,
usually the men, simply said, “bad genes.” The women’s attitude was stoic. Cancer was
part of life. On February 16, 1971, the eve of my mother’s surgery, I accidentally picked
up the telephone and overheard her ask my grandmother what she could expect.
“Diane, it is one of the most spiritual experiences you will ever encounter.”
I quietly put down the receiver. Two days later, my father took my brothers and me to
the hospital to visit her. She met us in the lobby in a wheelchair. No bandages were
visible. I’ll never forget her radiance, the way she held herself in a purple velvet robe and
how she gathered us around her.
“Children, I am fine. I want you to know I felt the arms of God around me.”
We believed her. My father cried. Our mother, his wife, was thirty-eight years old.
A little over a year after Mother’s death, Dad and I were having dinner together. He had
just returned from St. George, where the Tempest Company was completing the gas lines
that would service southern Utah. He spoke of his love for the country, the sandstone
landscape, bare-boned and beautiful. He had just finished hiking the Kolob trail in Zion
National Park. We got caught up in reminiscing, recalling with fondness our walk up
Angel’s Landing on his fiftieth birthday and the years our family had vacationed there.
Over dessert, I shared a recurring dream of mine. I told my father that for years, as long
as I could remember, I saw this flash of light in the night in the desert — that this image
had so permeated my being that I could not venture south without seeing it again, on the
horizon, illuminating buttes and mesas.
“You did see it,” he said.
“Saw what?” I asked, a bit tentative.
“The bomb. The cloud. We were driving home from Riverside, California. You were
sitting on Diane’s lap. She was pregnant. In fact, I remember the day, September 7, 1957.
We had just gotten out of the Service. We were driving north, past Las Vegas. It was an
hour or so before dawn, when this explosion went off. We not only heard it, but felt it. I
thought the oil tanker in front of us had blown up. We pulled over and suddenly, rising
from the desert floor, we saw it clearly, this golden-stemmed cloud, the mushroom. The
sky seemed to vibrate with an eerie pink glow. Within a few minutes, a light ash was
raining on the car.”
I stared at my father.
“I thought you knew that,” my father said. “It was a common occurrence in the fifties.”
It was at that moment I realized the deceit I had been living under. Children growing up
in the American Southwest, drinking contaminated milk from contaminated cows, even
from the contaminated breasts of their mothers, my mother — members, years later, of
the Clan of One-Breasted Women.
It is a well-known story in the Desert West, “The Day We Bombed Utah,” or more
accurately, the years we bombed Utah: above ground atomic testing in Nevada took place
from January 27, 1951, through July 11, 1962. Not only were the winds blowing north,
covering “low-use segments of the population” in Utah with fallout and leaving sheep
dead in their tracks, but the climate was right. The United States of the 1950s was red,
white, and blue. The Korean War was raging. McCarthyism was rampant. Ike was it, and
the cold war was hot. If you were against nuclear testing, you were for a communist
Much has been written about this “American nuclear tragedy.” Public health was
secondary to national security. The Atomic Energy Commissioner, Thomas Murray, said,
“Gentlemen, we must not let anything interfere with this series of tests, nothing.”
Again and again, the American public was told by its government, in spite of burns,
blisters, and nausea, “It has been found that the tests may be conducted with adequate
assurance of safety under conditions prevailing at the bombing reservation.” Assuaging
public fears was simply a matter of public relations. “Your best action,” an Atomic
Energy Commission booklet read, “is not to be worried about fallout.” A news release
typical of the times stated, “We find no basis for concluding that harm to any individual
has resulted from radioactive fallout.”