Melior diabolus quem scies

What quintessential strangeness is reality that humbles the errant seeker of truth and makes complexity of unity consciousness. Who wrote it a tragedy to be forced to  accept the unacceptable? To wrestle with sweet pain the prickly immutability of life’s inneffable truths only to settle for the devil of compromise? Pontificating about something does not infer experience directly with it. One can write about enlightenment without ever being awoken from the matrix. To not know can be the ultimate torture of consciousness.

When it comes to high strangeness, it is not until one meets with extra-dimensional beings (EDBs) that the bizarre experience causes such cognitive conflicts that it results in one having to seriously remodel one’s paradigm of how the universe really works. I have been face to face with a being who talked to me one minute (and who knew more about my past than I did) only to have him disappear completely the next, leaving only his footprint in the soil and an eery fogginess to my mind afterwards. I was not alone at the time, and my companion was equally shocked. As my father once said, ‘try to act normal, if only for the benefit of the abnormals.’ Generally speaking, there are few of us who are abnormal – i.e existential solipsists of the analytically reductive kind. Most of us are just benign souls addicted to our own private Idaho.

The consequence of meeting an emissary of the EDBs was psychologically chimeric. My perspective shifted to that of an outsider seeing the world differently from the remaining insiders of reality. I had become the ‘experienced’ viewer of strangeness versus the ‘inexperienced’ disbeliever. Conscious astral travelling, seeing ghosts or spirit channelling pales in comparison. But like anything occult (unseen), it is only when the inexplicable occurs that the earth beneath one’s feet turns to quicksand. Those in power know the face of this benevolent threat. A king has no weapon against a message of alien visitation. All he can do is silence the messengers. It is no wonder that royalty have such behemoth powers of denial.

Having seen, it is hard to unsee, to remove from one’s memory that which has been seen, heard and touched by the senses as weird, bizarre and earth-shattering. So one copes by being a cat masquerading as a dog, trying to bark no matter how difficult the vocal cords protest, trying to hide occult knowledge in plain sight. Trying not to get attention, only speaking from the heart to those who are already in the know. It’s not difficult, just an act of vigilance, and fake conformity. The cost of being one’s self amidst the non-believers is difficult when added to the already taxing pressures of normal life.

Having seen the matrix melt as one touches it with open eyes, one sees new motives for everyday events. A random act of cruelty is not as simple as a it seems, having complex multidimensional motivators behind the screen of that troubled mind that conducts the acts of cruelty. Some cruelty is due to inherent karmic blocks, but some are extraterrestrial in origin (malevolent EDBs). The job of the security response consortium (SRC), who supply information to the M$M about UFOs and aliens, is a complex one of managing these benevolent (Star nations; GF, AC) and malevolent (Draco) EDBs through a space project known as Solar Warden. Richard Boylan remarked that Solar Warden has now grown to eight cigar-shaped motherships (each longer than two football fields end-to-end) and 43 small scout ships. Solar Warden operates under the US Naval Network and Space Operations Command (NNSOC) [formerly Naval Space Command], headquartered in Dahlgren, Virginia. There are approximately 300 personnel at NNSOC’s Dahlgren facility. This space-security mission is two-fold. One part of the Space Fleet’s mission is to prevent rogue countries or terrorist groups from using space from which to conduct warfare against other countries or within-country targets. The second part is to prevent the global-elite control group, the Cabal, from using its orbital weapons systems, including directed-energy beam weapons, to intimidate or attack anyone or any group it wished to bend to its will. Solar Warden operates not only with classified U.S. Government authority but also with the secret authority of the United Nations and various allied star nations.

The SRC are ultimate ambassadors, keeping earth out of harm’s way (at least for the majority) while avoiding rapid disclosure which would trigger a global Cabal-instigated war. The SRC achieve their ends through two means; keep the impossible improbable (via the M$M) and keep the lunatics from running the asylum (banks).  The SRC even go to such extremes, such as allowing the Cabal to shoot down friendly UFOs (that technically don’t exist) in order to keep the status quo, even if it means keeping their enemy close. Their motto melior diabolus quem scies (better the devil you know) have served them well for three score and ten years.

Nexus Seven remarked that the SRC’s job ‘is not to stop the aliens since we can’t, but to work with the aliens to continue to institutionally deny their genuine existence here on Earth to keep status quo civilization intact. This reporter adds that ‘the more popular and accurate the UFO channeling cult, the more parallel decoys, compromise set-ups, and other credibility management chores such as associative confusion and dilutive counter-ops are applied.’ The SRC are the global police, accountable only to a secret branch of the UN (which technically doesn’t exist). The SRC, faceless and distant above us, holds the key to global stability, massaging the truth until it is geopolitically safe to tell all. While inter-tribal or financial wars rage in hotspots across the globe, they look down from their satellite stations and monitor global stability. Such irony is it when we consider racial wars down here, when there are dozens of intergalactic races watching from overhead. While countries go to war over financial spoils, an infinite wealth lies beyond the stratosphere. Above our heads, star-people lay in wait, wondering when we will wake up and join the galactic race. They are so tired of sending avatars and emissaries. They are tired of warring with malevolent EDBs who have made a Cabal of earth’s wealth. Sweet irony it is that the EDBs and their Cabal had more to gain financially had they gone through with disclosure back in 1947 than they did by choosing instead to go dark. But their gain was inevitably to be their pain, as more and more of the cabalista succumb to the verity of enlightenment and the fiat of financial liquidity. Their lot has become moderated by moil, drama and loss, a Kafkaesque nightmare in the making until they rejoin as members of humanity.

Hitchcock’s irony resonates at this point, that there is some pleasure to be got from nightmares, if only when we wake up from them, knowing that it has been just that, a bad dream which can be escaped. When the foes evaporate under the light of morning and all our fears are washed away by the reassuring smell of morning coffee and the song of birds outside, bliss it is to realise that what has been has only been dreamt, and what was once unknown has been remembered.

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