They Are Now Perishing in Massive Crowds of Genuflecting Nimrods, Walking into The Surf for The Pleasure of Sharks.

 God Poet Transmitting…….

It is truly amazing how shared perception is being shaped by the techs that once sunk Atlantis. I don’t know if I am speaking metaphorically or literally. I don’t know if it’s the same people. I just know it’s the same kind of people. According to occult history, Atlantis sank because their technical wizardry began to vastly outstrip their moral sense… just the way it is here and now.

Of course, there are other reasons. I do not have a comprehensive grasp of the matter; it was a while ago. I do know that this is the usual manner of decline… whenever a culture enjoys rapid technological advancement. It’s an old story. They are all old stories. The idea of a flood that drowned The World… the allegory of a Tower of Babel… Adam and Eve and an apple… there are a lot of tales. If you know where to look for deeper meaning… you can find it.

The serpent in The Garden is God, and we discover this once that serpent rises within us… above those forms of behavior that caused the banishing. This is another of the revelations that are transmitted in all legitimate initiations.

There is something in human nature that creates an imperative for the few to rule over the many. Sometimes this comes about in a benevolent fashion, and… sometimes the overlords are ruthless psychopaths; like now. When they sell it as across-the-board equality, it is even worse. Not everyone is equal, and the number of the terminally stupid increases by the day… due to the plague of Materialism.

We are in that period now where the most sold-out whores among us have risen to the highest positions because they are easily manipulated and controlled. They are counterpointed by The Peter Principle mob… of turtles on a fence post. There is also no restraint… of any kind… against fucking and sucking your way to the top. We have ample examples of that.

The false stars shining in the eyes of the blind… lead onward like the moths… immolated in the candle flames. They are now perishing in massive crowds of genuflecting Nimrods, walking into the surf for the pleasure of sharks.

If they can only live for a little while… they are glad to die in the process. The methods are many and easily to hand; be it on the streets of Kensington… a doctor’s office… off the supermarket shelves… fast food emporiums… Banker wars… perverse sexual encounters or… just your garden variety Stupid in search of an opportunity or means. It is all easily to hand.

The hand of Heaven is pressing the crazy like grapes in a wine press. The pressure is steadily increasing. On the lower levels… where the sense of self is less, the resistance is as well. On the higher levels they hold out longer, but… the pressure increases and increases and you now see it high and low.

How many varieties of Stephen King are there now? Celebrities transformed into mad dogs… driven by a vituperative rabies of unknown provenance. Everywhere you look now… you see some form or flavor of it. People at every level of the strata… in public service… are violating their oaths, AND… this is how it will end for so many of them, as they turn on each other in a cannibal frenzy. You can see the writing on the wall… if you can still read.

Abracadabra means; I create as I speak. First, there was The Word… eh? If people only bothered to look a little deeper, oh… what marvels they would find. There are few truer statements than, things are not what they seem, and… appearances can be deceiving. Still… this seems to hinder the majority not at all.

Right now… in the midst of it all… people move in all directions with no guidance… completely ignorant of Cosmic Law that attends to every thought… word… and deed. You tell someone, as ye sow so shall ye reap, and they nod their heads in agreement… pausing but a moment… before they are off to prove it once again. It is common knowledge that acts return upon the actor; well, maybe I’ll get lucky.

Perhaps it’s not common knowledge. Likely, Christ was right… they know not what they do… or… is it that they do and do not know at the same time? The key is in The Karma, which impels the one who is trapped… in the psychic web of their mind’s own native disposition… to have everything they seek to avoid… served to them like a blue plate special.

The appointment in Samara looms. The sure and certain return on every investment… is daily computed in the counting houses of The Recording Angel. Then it is rerouted to The Body Shops of The Moon, for whatever costumery is necessary to account for what brought them there.

It is an inflexible cycling… and everlasting proof of the maxim… garbage in and garbage out. The reverse is also true, of course, BUT… when you are moving in a dream, there’s just not enough substance to it to get your attention; an attention that is constantly diverted to the next thing. So… you see the proof of this in the passage of every single day, as fate impresses upon those who will not change their ways.

It’s not the gluten. It’s the Glyphosate. It’s often not what you think it is, and that is why doctors are USUALLY worse than useless. I know more about healing than most of them and… I am the living evidence of that. We are all the evidence of the truth or the lie of what we think we know. We are all a reflection of the information we act on, according to however it has convinced us to act.

All of these name players on The World Stage are in a dream. They are somnambulistic dancers. They are dancing to a cry of echoes from some past events. Meanwhile… because this is an apocalypse… and an awakening… the crazy is being pressed down by the Hand of Heaven, with ever-increasing force, and The Grapes of Wrath are soon to be poured out upon them.

Many of them will die by their own hand, though it may appear to be by misadventure. It is all the fruit of sidereal action… counterpointing the actions… of the separated will. You are about to see the inexplicable, which is generally an indication of the hidden presence of God, interacting in human affairs. He doesn’t do this often, but… as The Gita says… when The World has lapsed into disorder (paraphrasing) he returns to punish Evil, reward Good, and set things in order.

I might add; Arjuna… all roads lead to me.

This is an example of The Cosmic Clock, turning through time and circumstance, and presenting the templates for the next turning of the wheel. It is inflexible and it is ALWAYS on time. Everything has its seasons… even Heaven does. Everything has its nature… whether you understand it or not. Everything is as it is supposed to be… on its way to what it is going to be. You either align with this or you are plowed under. It’s a choice we make.

I prefer Heaven. Heaven may not prefer me more than any other man, BUT… I prefer Heaven, and Heaven responds in kind. You are bouncing a ball off of a wall… metaphorically speaking. You are looking into the mirror. What you see is colored by the quality of your desire, and the presence or absence of the purity of your thought. You see what you are.

It is no doubt a mystery as to why any true master loves everyone equally, BUT there is good reason for it. Every single person is you… at a different stage on the same journey. Their destiny is formed from the nature of their wanting, and God is the agency of their desires. All wanting of anything but God leads to disappointment, and that is what EVENTUALLY spurs each of us to self-inquiry because that is the means by which one discovers God.

Alternatively… we are left to our pursuits. Heaven knows how it ends for everyone… on the long road of self-discovery, and so… Heaven is patient. We are not so patient because we are whipped by desire and captives of the webwork of our thoughts. Our psychic nature traps us, and only Love or Wisdom can melt the viscous substance of our confinement. It gives new meaning to the term, sticky wicket.

I could rail on endlessly about the creators of Gazacide, and the feckless cretins who serve their interests… out of fear, the thirst for profit, or whatever lash there may be. It will avail nothing. I have said enough to that effect as it is.

This is just one more dramatic rendering of man’s inhumanity to man. These monsters will get their due… from ancient sources that understand the whole of it far better than I. Nothing slips through the net but Love… because there are no nets that can contain it. Love is The Liberator. Love cannot be bound, and the absence of Love is an eternal prison that is built… every stone of it… to wall love out.

We are all responsible for where we find ourselves. God willing… we do find ourselves.

End Transmission…….

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