Lockdown dream and the Tibetans/"Let’s 'elect' an old incoherent medical patient as the next president"

 

Lockdown dream and the Tibetans

by Jon Rappoport

(To read about Jon's mega-collection, The Matrix Revealed, click here.)

A person I knew a long time ago Or so it seemed Came back to visit me We were sitting in his car On a busy street A block away A hundred thousand Protestors Were facing off with cops in military gear My visitor said “I’m selling vaccines now and I think you’d be A great member of my team We go door to door And peddle a shot in the arm To prevent the plague”--- Someone threw a grenade It bounced twice outside the car and exploded He and I were floating in space He was a salesman on the road in the sky Hawking his product He had interplanetary ambitions He wanted to spread segments of RNA Across the Milky Way He said, “Remember that night at school I got drunk And tried to burn down the dorm?” It all came back to me He was the guy who was always Sitting in class writing notes to himself Making drawings Talking about poetry And now This A man on a narrow mission To save the stars We were in a spaceship Speeding past Forests filled with animals And floating cities People were shooting at us “Suppose there’s no place to land?” I said “We’ll find one,” he said He voice was big and confident He was smiling Happy And I was The Witness It was my job to document A stretch of time In which things had changed He took out a syringe And slapped in a vial And shot himself in the arm His face turned blue And he went into spasms Then he straightened up And took a deep breath and let it out “Nothing like it!” he said “Puts a jolt into you to start the day!” His blue face faded to a dull green “I have to feed this to the natives,” he said I said to him, “You’ve gone interdimensional” “That’s what my whole life was leading to,” he said. “A different Form of death. This is the big lesson.” “A lesson for who?” “For everyone who’s tired of the every-day grind, who wants Adventure. You realize how many people want to throw in The towel?” We were sitting in an old dusty theater. The lights were on. A tall naked to the waist chieftain wearing a large headdress came down the aisle and stopped at our row. He ignored me And said, “Did you bring the shit, Bob?” Bob looked down and pointed at Three suitcases. “It’s all in there,” he said. The chief broke out into a wide grin It reminded me of Bill Gates’ Howdy Doody smile ---AND THEN I SAW what the old Tibetans called the Great Void everybody looks around and tries to figure out what to do because the long hustle of discovery is over and all the explorers have been paid off There is nothing left except a few magicians living in cold mountains punching holes in space-time at will In Lhasa they were faced with that Nothing and they turned to it and finally saw universe is a product of mind they sat in the holy rivers of energy and took apart the river and the energy too down to Nothing sat in it for indeterminate length of no-time stopping all creating because they could and then emerged those few magicians in the cold wasted hills and and said WELL  if all you folks want to elect a billion reincarnated hopalong cassidys as your presidents go ahead it doesn't matter we're out here on the edge inventing and destroying dimensions -----I chained my old college friend Bob to his seat in the theater I lit the suitcases on fire And said to the chieftain “Your connection just went null, pal This is the new regime Freedom If you to try to grab it And mold it It burns” I walked out of the theater Busy street And hailed a taxi I rode over to a deli on 53rd St. went inside, sat down, and ordered the brisket Nobody was wearing a mask A waitress who looked 80 years old Brought over a plate and set it down There was nothing on it And I mean NOTHING It was The Void And she said “You can have it if you want to” And I said, “Not just now” “It’ll wait” she said And winked at me And it was all right I floated through the deli And back out into the street The night is long The worm is turning The cops are starting to realize they want to stand with the anti-vax protestors A cop cracked a man’s skull The man is in the ICU fighting for his life The sadists know no bounds But neither do we I know the mountain where I once was And the valley where I am now And the sky in between I’m looking at the line of cops in their military gear behind their shields And I can see they’re terrified of the NOTHING And now they’re falling into that NOTHING And screaming Because they have no one to smash to prove they exist And they keep falling And falling And hundreds of thousands of us walk through them On our way to Grid Central to turn the lights back on ~~~ (The link to this article posted on my blog is here.) (Follow me on Gab at @jonrappoport)

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Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world.

 

"Let’s 'elect' an old incoherent medical patient as the next president"

by Jon Rappoport

(To read about Jon's mega-collection, The Matrix Revealed, click here.)

After all, they would need him to sign all sorts of insane executive orders, and no one in his right mind would go along.

If Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, Mark Milley, thought Trump was mentally unstable---forcing him to tell a Chinese official he, Milley, would warn him if the US was about to launch a nuclear strike against China---what is Milly thinking now---with Biden in the Oval Office?

What is Milley telling his Chinese counterpart?

“Listen, your boy Joe can’t find his way from the shower to his bedroom. Half the time he thinks his wife is a psychiatrist from Walter Reed. Joe has his good days and his bad days, but they’re all bad. Even when his mind is right, he doesn’t know it. Catch my drift? We gave him an NFL football signed by three quarterbacks, and Joe thinks it’s the nuclear football. He keeps looking for the latch that opens it up. He says, ‘Call Tom Brady, Brady has the launch codes’.”

There’s another Biden factor. At least half the nation’s economy now operates on services for the disabled and the disadvantaged. So it’s natural to feature a severely disabled man in the Oval Office.

I say put Biden on Workman’s Comp. Publicly. With pride.

Let’s have a National Day of Recognition for Our Leader with Dementia. Send him on a quick tour of nursing homes. Wheel him into day rooms full of residents. Have him exclaim, “I’m with you. I am you. I suck on ice cream. I can’t remember names. I start one sentence and then I’m in the middle of another sentence.”

Don’t try to hide what the White House reporters know. Bring it all out into the open. Celebrate it. Interview those journalists:

“Yes, now that you mention it, Joe said Barack Roosevelt was the sitting president. I laughed and then he laughed. I don’t know what he was laughing at, but he was very happy. That’s an important quality in a President.”

“It was amazing. Quite lovely, in a way. We were on Air Force One, and Joe said the stewards below decks in the engine room were checking the torpedo specs. He was like a child. Innocent. Looking at the world through fresh eyes…”

“He told me the vaccine was a like a rose. There were tears running down his cheeks. He really wants to save this nation from the virus. It was beautiful. He’s not thinking from A to B. He’s free of all that. He’s like an astronaut on a long journey in space. He wants to take us there with him. We’re on the cusp of a new era. This is beyond AI. This is something very different.”

“When Joe talks to me off the record, it reminds me of…he’s giving us clues to another dimension. We shouldn’t ignore those clues. We have to study them and decode them. Once, he said he was going to create a new department in the military. To enlist 20 million mentally disabled Americans. To put them on the front lines in battle. Their random actions would confuse and distract the enemy. You see, they would all suddenly graduate from being victims, to heroes. Removing the stigma. It puts everything in new perspective.”

A disabled president for a disabled nation.

Of course, there are moments when Joe lashes out at reporters, underlings, and the American people at large. This is to be expected. He is afflicted, and the afflicted are disturbed. Literally. We must understand and show empathy. If one of Joe’s edicts rubs us the wrong way, well, he might have issued it in a moment of anger. At the very least, we need to go along. Obey. Show our willingness to concede “space” to the less fortunate. That is, the differently abled. Because, when you stop and think about it, who really knows what Joe knows? He is out there trailblazing along routes we can only pretend to understand.

He may see a far destination we can’t grasp. In his unique processes, he may be guiding us to some Great Ice Cream Truck. As adults, we’ve violated many principles of Nature. Joe will take us back to the fundamentals of share and care.

You remember those childhood days, don’t you? When you and your brothers and sisters lived in perfect harmony? One for all and all for one. Without a trace of envy, spite, or jealousy. O those days, that time. Yes, it must be what Joe is thinking about.

Even if the oatmeal is dribbling down his chin, even if he can’t navigate from the limousine to the fairgrounds without thinking he’s the principal of a girl’s boarding school about to launch an unannounced inspection of the dorm rooms, even if he thinks Beijing is a corporation registered in Delaware, he has his finger on the pulse of a distant star, toward which we are all traveling, blinded by his light, but faithful within its glow.

“I’ll take the shot in the arm, nurse. I’ll take three. For Joe.”

There’s a real chance the dangerous shot will turn you into something like Joe. Or worse.

But that’s a tribute.

~~~

(The link to this article posted on my blog is here.)

(Follow me on Gab at @jonrappoport)