Britain has already joined the single European currency! Well it has in the world of Christmas confectionary. All my life I've loved the little chocolate coins, the ones you get in silver or gold foil covering that come in a little string bag. They're a Christmas tradition, for me, every bit as much as Santa, mince pies and carols. Up till now these coins were always pounds and pence, but I was shocked today to see that they are now Euroes! My kid brought some home from school with her. I tried one and you know what... they don't taste half as good any more!
Maybe this is being done to indoctrinate children, the main consumer group for this product. As Lenin said "He who has the youth has the future." Or in other words, if the powers-that-be can market the single European currency to the children of today as fun and sweet then all they have to do is wait for the adults of today to die off! This is why they're also targeting children for indoctrination into fingerprinting and the identity check culture.
I was born in late 1971 and so never lived with the old pounds, shillings and pence, but a friend of mine who is older told me that these same chocolate coins were brought out the Christmas before decimalization in the new decimal currency! "He who has the youth has the future indeed!" At that time all future counties... sorry nations of the EU... sorry European Common Market, used a decimal two-tier currency system: French francs and centimes, German Deutchmarks and pfennigs, Dutch guilders and cents etc. Britain was the odd one out, so it had to be brought into line.
I've often said that the EU was planned long before politicians openly admited that they want it. The introduction of the common market and decimalization was the beginning of an aclimatization process. This is what the Illuminati do; if they know a policy is going to be unpopular they introduce it slowly and stealthily in little stages that are portrayed as unconnected, so that people don't notice it happening and therefore don't rebel. As James Madison, one of the early US presidents, said: "I believe there are more abridgements of human freedom by slow and silent encroachments than by sudden and violent usurpations by those in power."
We're looking back now at how the EU came into being and scratching our heads saying: "How the hell did we end up here?"
Friday, 16 November 2007
Monday, 12 November 2007
My Trip to a Haunted House
Perhaps “haunted house” is the wrong term. In paranormal research “haunted” refers to a phenomenon associated with a particular place; in the case of this house, the phenomenon is related to the people living there. If they’d gone to live somewhere else then the phenomenon would have followed them there.
My hosts, Ann and Paul Andrews, are well-known within the paranormal research community. Their family has been the focus of almost every kind of paranormal manifestation you can think of: ghosts, weird sounds, poltergeist activity, men-in-black and especially UFO’s and aliens. Ann and all her children have been abducted, one of the boys repeatedly so. Despite all this they come across as a very down-to-earth and easy-going couple. They run a motoring business and breed dogs and cats. They eat pizza, listen to Radio 1 and complain when a bill arrives in the post. Their son Jason is an eccentric, but otherwise unremarkable young man with a fertile sense of humour and a passion for fast cars. There’s nothing obvious about him that would make you think that he’s spent his whole life being visited by beings from another world.
The Andrews’ live in a farmhouse on the flat expanse the Lincolnshire fens where tabletop farmland meets the sea of the Wash. They are very blasé about the continuous appearance of things that contradict known science. Ellis and I make more of a note of such things. Ellis has stayed with the Andrews’ before and when he did he had some almost unbelievable experiences. He’s written about them here: http://www.ellisctaylor.com/doggeddays.html I read this article in the days before we left so I’m sure you’ll forgive me if I was a bit apprehensive as we drove up the lane towards the house. Almost immediately we were unequivocally reminded that that this was no ordinary house. As we stepped out of Ellis’ car we looked over at a beautiful twilight sky speckled with stars. Straight away we realized that two of the stars were no stars. Nor were they aircraft, satellites or birds! Two of them were flying in little circles. Then one of them shot away to the east at very high speed and vanished. The other one vanished at the same time.
Ann and Paul treated us in a very friendly and caring way and made us very comfortable, but the strange events continued. I saw a fuzzy ball of light in my bedroom. It only lasted about a second, but it was definitely there. I’ve been seeing little flashes of light for the last two weeks, but this one was different. When we went downstairs we were sitting in the lounge when an odd noise broke out from the hallway next door. It sounded like someone rhythmically snapping their fingers very loudly. We rushed out into the hallway and the noise stopped. I at first suspected that it was Billy the parrot in the kitchen next door, but Ann told us that he never makes that noise. On Sunday morning I became even surer it was not Billy, because I was in the lounge when the kitchen door was shut and heard that noise. Ellis also heard a voice say “Very good”. I heard it too and thought it was the parrot again, but Ellis denies this. It was not the parrot’s voice and besides all I heard Billy say the whole weekend was “hello”.
We went out to a pub for a meal with Jason and his wife Jacqui and on the way back we had a strange escort. Some kind of misty shape was on the road ahead of us, dancing in the beams of Ellis’ headlights, keeping up with the car. It was as if sand or dust was being kicked up into the air from the white lines in the road.
The following morning I walked into the kitchen and felt heat on my face. As first I thought it was a light, but I also felt it when my back was turned to the light. It was as if there was a “hotspot” in the area of the kitchen door. Both Ellis and Ann felt it too and Ellis told me that a ley line runs through the house. Ellis can easily sense them because they make his feet warm. There were other incidents such as a light being left on at night in the conservatory. I came down early on Sunday and saw it. I tried to get in and switch it off, but couldn’t get the door open, not through some paranormal force, but because I didn’t know how it worked! Later on Paul came down and did it for me and he took the incident very much in his stride. “That kind of thing happens all the time round here” he said with a shrug. He took the same attitude when my camera broke down and wouldn’t work again even when I changed the batteries. The family has leaned to live with unreliable electrical equipment. Their internet connection is almost continuously out of order. So much so that Ann uses dial-up! This is another common feature of abductee households. (Strangely enough it can work the other way round. They have an old clock that never worked and the kids used to break it open and mess around with the innards, but one day it was magically repaired).
Ann gave me a signed copy of her book and refused to take any payment for it. I read half of it while I was there and it’s an amazing story. Ellis describes it as “a kind of supernatural Darling Buds of May” and that’s a fair description. Here it is: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Abducted-Story-Alien-Abduction-England/dp/0747221219/ref=sr_1_4/203-2367739-7216750?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1194897113&sr=1-4 She’s written an new book too which was originally published as Jason- My Indigo Child, but now has a new title and more up-to-date material: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Walking-Between-Worlds-Belonging-None/dp/0979175038/ref=sr_1_1/203-2367739-7216750?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1194897225&sr=1-1
Unlike Ellis’ visit last year, I was not disturbed by any wayward spirits at night. In fact, after the brief encounter with the orb, I never once saw anything unusual in the upstairs of the house, much to my relief and the relief of another mate, Ben Fairhall (author of the Battling the Behemoth site) who spent the Saturday night in the same bedroom as me.
I’ve had a great weekend and I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. I was curious and interested more than scared and we certainly had some experiences to satisfy that! The Andrews family are lovely people and I hope I meet them again soon.
My hosts, Ann and Paul Andrews, are well-known within the paranormal research community. Their family has been the focus of almost every kind of paranormal manifestation you can think of: ghosts, weird sounds, poltergeist activity, men-in-black and especially UFO’s and aliens. Ann and all her children have been abducted, one of the boys repeatedly so. Despite all this they come across as a very down-to-earth and easy-going couple. They run a motoring business and breed dogs and cats. They eat pizza, listen to Radio 1 and complain when a bill arrives in the post. Their son Jason is an eccentric, but otherwise unremarkable young man with a fertile sense of humour and a passion for fast cars. There’s nothing obvious about him that would make you think that he’s spent his whole life being visited by beings from another world.
The Andrews’ live in a farmhouse on the flat expanse the Lincolnshire fens where tabletop farmland meets the sea of the Wash. They are very blasé about the continuous appearance of things that contradict known science. Ellis and I make more of a note of such things. Ellis has stayed with the Andrews’ before and when he did he had some almost unbelievable experiences. He’s written about them here: http://www.ellisctaylor.com/doggeddays.html I read this article in the days before we left so I’m sure you’ll forgive me if I was a bit apprehensive as we drove up the lane towards the house. Almost immediately we were unequivocally reminded that that this was no ordinary house. As we stepped out of Ellis’ car we looked over at a beautiful twilight sky speckled with stars. Straight away we realized that two of the stars were no stars. Nor were they aircraft, satellites or birds! Two of them were flying in little circles. Then one of them shot away to the east at very high speed and vanished. The other one vanished at the same time.
Ann and Paul treated us in a very friendly and caring way and made us very comfortable, but the strange events continued. I saw a fuzzy ball of light in my bedroom. It only lasted about a second, but it was definitely there. I’ve been seeing little flashes of light for the last two weeks, but this one was different. When we went downstairs we were sitting in the lounge when an odd noise broke out from the hallway next door. It sounded like someone rhythmically snapping their fingers very loudly. We rushed out into the hallway and the noise stopped. I at first suspected that it was Billy the parrot in the kitchen next door, but Ann told us that he never makes that noise. On Sunday morning I became even surer it was not Billy, because I was in the lounge when the kitchen door was shut and heard that noise. Ellis also heard a voice say “Very good”. I heard it too and thought it was the parrot again, but Ellis denies this. It was not the parrot’s voice and besides all I heard Billy say the whole weekend was “hello”.
We went out to a pub for a meal with Jason and his wife Jacqui and on the way back we had a strange escort. Some kind of misty shape was on the road ahead of us, dancing in the beams of Ellis’ headlights, keeping up with the car. It was as if sand or dust was being kicked up into the air from the white lines in the road.
The following morning I walked into the kitchen and felt heat on my face. As first I thought it was a light, but I also felt it when my back was turned to the light. It was as if there was a “hotspot” in the area of the kitchen door. Both Ellis and Ann felt it too and Ellis told me that a ley line runs through the house. Ellis can easily sense them because they make his feet warm. There were other incidents such as a light being left on at night in the conservatory. I came down early on Sunday and saw it. I tried to get in and switch it off, but couldn’t get the door open, not through some paranormal force, but because I didn’t know how it worked! Later on Paul came down and did it for me and he took the incident very much in his stride. “That kind of thing happens all the time round here” he said with a shrug. He took the same attitude when my camera broke down and wouldn’t work again even when I changed the batteries. The family has leaned to live with unreliable electrical equipment. Their internet connection is almost continuously out of order. So much so that Ann uses dial-up! This is another common feature of abductee households. (Strangely enough it can work the other way round. They have an old clock that never worked and the kids used to break it open and mess around with the innards, but one day it was magically repaired).
Ann gave me a signed copy of her book and refused to take any payment for it. I read half of it while I was there and it’s an amazing story. Ellis describes it as “a kind of supernatural Darling Buds of May” and that’s a fair description. Here it is: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Abducted-Story-Alien-Abduction-England/dp/0747221219/ref=sr_1_4/203-2367739-7216750?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1194897113&sr=1-4 She’s written an new book too which was originally published as Jason- My Indigo Child, but now has a new title and more up-to-date material: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Walking-Between-Worlds-Belonging-None/dp/0979175038/ref=sr_1_1/203-2367739-7216750?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1194897225&sr=1-1
Unlike Ellis’ visit last year, I was not disturbed by any wayward spirits at night. In fact, after the brief encounter with the orb, I never once saw anything unusual in the upstairs of the house, much to my relief and the relief of another mate, Ben Fairhall (author of the Battling the Behemoth site) who spent the Saturday night in the same bedroom as me.
I’ve had a great weekend and I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. I was curious and interested more than scared and we certainly had some experiences to satisfy that! The Andrews family are lovely people and I hope I meet them again soon.
Wednesday, 7 November 2007
Chief Seattle's Letter
Chief Seattle was a famous 19th Century Red Indian chief in Washington State, USA. The state’s biggest cityport is named after him. In 1855 the President of the United States, Franklin Pierce, wrote to Seattle with an offer from the government to buy his people’s land… How did he reply? How would you reply? Well, according to the Conformist Regime, the sensible thing to do would be to sell and be grateful for the opportunity to make some dosh. The US government was offering Seattle a considerable sum. As a “winner” and “success story" in the Conformist world, he would be able to buy his own mansion with servants, a swimming pool, luxury stagecoach and Jacuzzi. He’d be the envy of the town, hosting cocktail parties and polo matches. This is everything we’re supposed to want… isn’t it? Achieving money, property, power and status is The One Goal of life… isn’t it? If Seattle was really wily he could have feigned hesitation to the offer, forcing up the price, waiting for the moment when the government was about to withdraw, then pretending to change his mind. It would have made Seattle hot property on Wall Street!... But this is what Seattle wrote in reply:
The Great White Chief in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. He also sends words of friendship and goodwill. This is kind of him since we know he has little need of our friendship in return. But we will consider your offer. What I say the Great White Chief can count on as truly as our white brothers can count on the turning of the seasons. My words are like stars: they do not set.
How can you buy or sell the sky; the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. We do not own the freshness of the air or the sparkle of the water, so how can you buy them from us? We will decide in our time, but every part of the Earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every glade and humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people.
We know that the white man doesn’t understand our ways. One portion of the land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the Earth whatever he wants. The Earth is not his brother but his enemy; and when he conquers it he moves on. He leaves his fathers’ graves behind and doesn’t care. He kidnaps the Earth from his children. His father’s graves and children’s birthrights are forgotten. His appetite will devour the Earth and leave behind a wasteland. The sight of your cities pains the eye of the red man. But perhaps this is because the red man is a “savage” and doesn’t understand.
There is no quiet place in the white man’s cities. No place to hear the leaves of spring or the rustle of insects’ wings. The clatter insults the ears. But perhaps I am only a “savage” and don’t understand. And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lovely cry of the whippoorwill or the argument of the frogs around a pond at night? The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind darting over the face of the pond, and the wind itself cleansed by the midday rain or scented with pinion. The air is precious to the red man for all things share the same breath: the beasts, the trees, the man. The white man doesn’t seem to notice the air he breathes. Like a man dying for days, he is numb to his own stench.
If I accept, I will make one condition: the white man must treat the beasts of this land as his brothers. I am just a “savage” and don’t understand any other way. I have seen a thousand rotting buffaloes on the prairie, left by the white man who shot them from a passing train. I am a “savage” and do not understand how the smoking iron horse can be more important than the buffalo whom we kill only to live. What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone then men would die from a terrible loneliness of the spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts also happens to the man. All things are connected. Whatever befalls the Earth befalls the sons of the Earth.
Our children have seen our fathers humbled in defeat. Our warriors have felt shame. After defeat they turn their days in idleness and contaminate their bodies with sweet food and strong drink. It matters little where we pass the rest of our days; they are not many. A few more hours, a few more winters, and none of the children of the great tribes that once lived on the Earth, or that roamed in small bands in the woods, will be left to mourn the graves of a people once as powerful and hopeful as yours. One thing we know that the white man may one day discover: our God and your God are the same. You may think now that you own Him as you wish to own our land, but you cannot. He is the God of man and his compassion is equal for the red man and the white. The Earth is precious to him, and to harm the Earth is to pour contempt on its creator. The whites too shall pass, perhaps sooner than other tribes. Continue to contaminate your own bed and you will one night suffocate in your own waste.
When the buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild horses all tamed. The secret corners of the forest heavy with the scent of many men, and the view of the ripe hills blotted by telegraph wires. Where is the thicket? Gone. Where is the eagle? Gone. And what is it to say goodbye to the swift and the hunt, the end of living and the beginning of survival.
We might understand if we knew what it was that the white man dreams, what hopes he describes to his children on long winter nights, what visions he burns into their minds so that they will wish for tomorrow. But we are “savages”. The white man’s dreams are hidden from us. And because they are hidden we will go our own way. If we agree, it will be to secure the reservation you’ve promised. There, perhaps we may live out our brief days as we wish. When the last red man has vanished from the Earth, and our memory is just the shadow of a cloud passing across the prairie, these shores and forests will still hold the spirits of my people, for they love the Earth the way a newborn loves its mother’s heartbeat.
If we sell you our land, love it as we’ve loved it. Care for it as we’ve cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land, as it is when you take it. And with all your strength and all your might and with all your heart preserve it for your children, and love it as God loves us all. One thing we know: our God is the same as yours. The Earth is precious to him. Even the white man cannot be exempt from common destiny.
I find this letter incredibly moving. It's on display in a museum for everyone to see and so it should be!
In the Western world we’re all familiar with the concept of “civilizing the savage”. This was what motivated Trevor and the others on Rockall when they discovered the Erkdwala. But forcibly converting indigenous people to the Western lifestyle will deprive us of their wisdom. Chief Seattle’s letter was written over 160 years ago, but in it we can see that he was aware of the dangers of abusing the environment that we have only found our for ourselves much more recently. We will never progress as a civilization when we strut arrogantly over the world in the belief that our way is the only way. When we think like that, we will be able to justify any atrocity to achieve the end of forcing the rest of the world to conform. If we understand that our way is just one way of many, then we can learn from other ways, like Seattle’s, and absorb their wisdom. Then those indigenous cultures in turn can examine our own and take from Western culture only what they choose and leave the rest, without any pressure. Imagine how much better the world will be then! As I read Chief Seattle’s letter, and then look at the world around me, I think that his is an idea whose time is come!
The Great White Chief in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. He also sends words of friendship and goodwill. This is kind of him since we know he has little need of our friendship in return. But we will consider your offer. What I say the Great White Chief can count on as truly as our white brothers can count on the turning of the seasons. My words are like stars: they do not set.
How can you buy or sell the sky; the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. We do not own the freshness of the air or the sparkle of the water, so how can you buy them from us? We will decide in our time, but every part of the Earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every glade and humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people.
We know that the white man doesn’t understand our ways. One portion of the land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the Earth whatever he wants. The Earth is not his brother but his enemy; and when he conquers it he moves on. He leaves his fathers’ graves behind and doesn’t care. He kidnaps the Earth from his children. His father’s graves and children’s birthrights are forgotten. His appetite will devour the Earth and leave behind a wasteland. The sight of your cities pains the eye of the red man. But perhaps this is because the red man is a “savage” and doesn’t understand.
There is no quiet place in the white man’s cities. No place to hear the leaves of spring or the rustle of insects’ wings. The clatter insults the ears. But perhaps I am only a “savage” and don’t understand. And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lovely cry of the whippoorwill or the argument of the frogs around a pond at night? The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind darting over the face of the pond, and the wind itself cleansed by the midday rain or scented with pinion. The air is precious to the red man for all things share the same breath: the beasts, the trees, the man. The white man doesn’t seem to notice the air he breathes. Like a man dying for days, he is numb to his own stench.
If I accept, I will make one condition: the white man must treat the beasts of this land as his brothers. I am just a “savage” and don’t understand any other way. I have seen a thousand rotting buffaloes on the prairie, left by the white man who shot them from a passing train. I am a “savage” and do not understand how the smoking iron horse can be more important than the buffalo whom we kill only to live. What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone then men would die from a terrible loneliness of the spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts also happens to the man. All things are connected. Whatever befalls the Earth befalls the sons of the Earth.
Our children have seen our fathers humbled in defeat. Our warriors have felt shame. After defeat they turn their days in idleness and contaminate their bodies with sweet food and strong drink. It matters little where we pass the rest of our days; they are not many. A few more hours, a few more winters, and none of the children of the great tribes that once lived on the Earth, or that roamed in small bands in the woods, will be left to mourn the graves of a people once as powerful and hopeful as yours. One thing we know that the white man may one day discover: our God and your God are the same. You may think now that you own Him as you wish to own our land, but you cannot. He is the God of man and his compassion is equal for the red man and the white. The Earth is precious to him, and to harm the Earth is to pour contempt on its creator. The whites too shall pass, perhaps sooner than other tribes. Continue to contaminate your own bed and you will one night suffocate in your own waste.
When the buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild horses all tamed. The secret corners of the forest heavy with the scent of many men, and the view of the ripe hills blotted by telegraph wires. Where is the thicket? Gone. Where is the eagle? Gone. And what is it to say goodbye to the swift and the hunt, the end of living and the beginning of survival.
We might understand if we knew what it was that the white man dreams, what hopes he describes to his children on long winter nights, what visions he burns into their minds so that they will wish for tomorrow. But we are “savages”. The white man’s dreams are hidden from us. And because they are hidden we will go our own way. If we agree, it will be to secure the reservation you’ve promised. There, perhaps we may live out our brief days as we wish. When the last red man has vanished from the Earth, and our memory is just the shadow of a cloud passing across the prairie, these shores and forests will still hold the spirits of my people, for they love the Earth the way a newborn loves its mother’s heartbeat.
If we sell you our land, love it as we’ve loved it. Care for it as we’ve cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land, as it is when you take it. And with all your strength and all your might and with all your heart preserve it for your children, and love it as God loves us all. One thing we know: our God is the same as yours. The Earth is precious to him. Even the white man cannot be exempt from common destiny.
I find this letter incredibly moving. It's on display in a museum for everyone to see and so it should be!
In the Western world we’re all familiar with the concept of “civilizing the savage”. This was what motivated Trevor and the others on Rockall when they discovered the Erkdwala. But forcibly converting indigenous people to the Western lifestyle will deprive us of their wisdom. Chief Seattle’s letter was written over 160 years ago, but in it we can see that he was aware of the dangers of abusing the environment that we have only found our for ourselves much more recently. We will never progress as a civilization when we strut arrogantly over the world in the belief that our way is the only way. When we think like that, we will be able to justify any atrocity to achieve the end of forcing the rest of the world to conform. If we understand that our way is just one way of many, then we can learn from other ways, like Seattle’s, and absorb their wisdom. Then those indigenous cultures in turn can examine our own and take from Western culture only what they choose and leave the rest, without any pressure. Imagine how much better the world will be then! As I read Chief Seattle’s letter, and then look at the world around me, I think that his is an idea whose time is come!
HPANWO TV film on the subject: http://hpanwo-tv.blogspot.com/2009/02/chief-seatles-letter.html
Saturday, 3 November 2007
The Legacy of Wilhelm Reich 2
Today's the big day! But we've got to wait till Monday:
Well solicitors don't open on a Saturday I suppose.
As we celebrate the life and legacy of Wilhelm Reich M.D. on the 50th
anniversary of his death… And as we look ahead to the opening of the Archives of
the Orgone Institute to researchers and scholars on Monday, November 5, 2007…
(Source:http://www.wilhelmreichmuseum.org/05_12_update.html)
Well solicitors don't open on a Saturday I suppose.
Thursday, 25 October 2007
Peter and Jordan
I’ve recently written here about the fake Blue Peter phone-in ( http://hpanwo.blogspot.com/2007/10/fake-blue-peter-phone-in.html ). It’s almost too incredible to believe that such and audacious and subterfuge is going on, but it gets worse, far worse! The notion that Peter Andre and Katie Price, aka Jordan, are not a real couple is rife today, and that’s encouraging because it means people are suspicious of the Conformist Regime’s media and don’t swallow it whole and unquestioned.
Jordan is what has become known as a “glamour model”, a conventionally attractive woman who has mildly erotic pictures and films made of her for the Conformist media, rather like a Japanese gravure idol, but with other celebrity activities on the side. Peter Andre was a 90’s pop star and media-promoted CMI (Conformist Male Ideal) for a very short time before falling into total obscurity. In a recent TV interview Jordan was asked about the conspiracy theories surrounding her and Peter and she replied: “We’ve got our third kid now; how long will it be before these people accept that we’re a real couple?” I myself don’t doubt that they are a real couple today, after all they live together and have two children, plus Harvey, an adopted boy from Jordan’s previous partner Dwight Yorke; what I dispute is how their relationship began in the first place.
They met in a most unusual and sensational manner. They were both contestants on the Reality TV show I’m a Celebrity- Get Me Out of Here! I’ve been interested in Reality TV for a while and I’ve become convinced that it is actually government mind control and Conformist propaganda, but that’s a long story that needs its own post. Peter and Jordan were total strangers when they arrived at the show’s location. Almost immediately they were holding hands and cuddling. The two became the subject of nationwide gossip and Jordan’s current casual beau traveled all the way from Britain to the show’s location in Australia to invade the set and “punch Peter’s lights out.”. In her 2004 autobiography, Being Jordan, Jordan describes how she and Peter were instantly smitten. Here I suspect she is lying. One of the most important things Reality TV needs to be successful and keep the viewers watching is conflict and confrontation among the contestants or some kind of crisis or scandal. Nobody will bother tuning in to see ten people getting along like a house on fire! Viewing figures soar when things “go wrong”. I put these words in quotes because it’s not a case of “going wrong” it’s one of “going right”. The producers very much want these incidents to break out… so much so that I doubt if they’d leave the prospect of one doing so to chance. I think that the coming together of Peter and Jordan was staged.
As I watched the two strolling round the jungle hand-in-hand I recalled a similar incident in the first series involving the actor Darren Day and “it girl” Tara Palmer-Tomkinson. The two had an affair on-set. Darren’s’ girlfriend was interviewed on GMTV about what she thought and I was amazed at how unperturbed she sounded. Then it struck me: the whole thing was a set-up! Darren and Tara were only pretending to be lovers and Darren’s girlfriend was in on it. The same staged incident was arranged for Peter and Jordan and Jordan’s current boyfriend (and I dare say Peter’s partner too, if he had one) was briefed in. There was something very insincere and forced about Peter and Jordan’s on-screen petting. Jordan’s boyfriend’s anger also looked very fake as he stepped off the plane in Australia. Whatever other talents they might have they are definitely not actors. What the show’s producers, and I dare say Jordan’s boyfriend, never counted on was Peter and Jordan falling in love for real after the TV show was finished! They’re a real couple now; it’s beyond doubt. They live together and go everywhere together and have children. Personally I wish them all the best.
The fakery and stagecraft on TV is of a depth and scale that is almost beyond belief. So-called documentaries and real life are as scripted and designed as much as any movie, drama or soap opera. TV producers can make films of people reading scripts and acting out preassigned roles and characters; and then go ahead and present it to the viewing public as a factual record of true life. There is no law that prevents them from doing this. Sometimes their machinations are exposed, as with Blue Peter and Family Confidential, but how much else do they get away with? What proportion of their chicanery slips through the net? The two examples I gave could be the tip of a huge and very sinister iceberg. If TV producers are presenting fictional material as fact and news then how can we trust them to tell us the truth about anything?
Jordan is what has become known as a “glamour model”, a conventionally attractive woman who has mildly erotic pictures and films made of her for the Conformist media, rather like a Japanese gravure idol, but with other celebrity activities on the side. Peter Andre was a 90’s pop star and media-promoted CMI (Conformist Male Ideal) for a very short time before falling into total obscurity. In a recent TV interview Jordan was asked about the conspiracy theories surrounding her and Peter and she replied: “We’ve got our third kid now; how long will it be before these people accept that we’re a real couple?” I myself don’t doubt that they are a real couple today, after all they live together and have two children, plus Harvey, an adopted boy from Jordan’s previous partner Dwight Yorke; what I dispute is how their relationship began in the first place.
They met in a most unusual and sensational manner. They were both contestants on the Reality TV show I’m a Celebrity- Get Me Out of Here! I’ve been interested in Reality TV for a while and I’ve become convinced that it is actually government mind control and Conformist propaganda, but that’s a long story that needs its own post. Peter and Jordan were total strangers when they arrived at the show’s location. Almost immediately they were holding hands and cuddling. The two became the subject of nationwide gossip and Jordan’s current casual beau traveled all the way from Britain to the show’s location in Australia to invade the set and “punch Peter’s lights out.”. In her 2004 autobiography, Being Jordan, Jordan describes how she and Peter were instantly smitten. Here I suspect she is lying. One of the most important things Reality TV needs to be successful and keep the viewers watching is conflict and confrontation among the contestants or some kind of crisis or scandal. Nobody will bother tuning in to see ten people getting along like a house on fire! Viewing figures soar when things “go wrong”. I put these words in quotes because it’s not a case of “going wrong” it’s one of “going right”. The producers very much want these incidents to break out… so much so that I doubt if they’d leave the prospect of one doing so to chance. I think that the coming together of Peter and Jordan was staged.
As I watched the two strolling round the jungle hand-in-hand I recalled a similar incident in the first series involving the actor Darren Day and “it girl” Tara Palmer-Tomkinson. The two had an affair on-set. Darren’s’ girlfriend was interviewed on GMTV about what she thought and I was amazed at how unperturbed she sounded. Then it struck me: the whole thing was a set-up! Darren and Tara were only pretending to be lovers and Darren’s girlfriend was in on it. The same staged incident was arranged for Peter and Jordan and Jordan’s current boyfriend (and I dare say Peter’s partner too, if he had one) was briefed in. There was something very insincere and forced about Peter and Jordan’s on-screen petting. Jordan’s boyfriend’s anger also looked very fake as he stepped off the plane in Australia. Whatever other talents they might have they are definitely not actors. What the show’s producers, and I dare say Jordan’s boyfriend, never counted on was Peter and Jordan falling in love for real after the TV show was finished! They’re a real couple now; it’s beyond doubt. They live together and go everywhere together and have children. Personally I wish them all the best.
The fakery and stagecraft on TV is of a depth and scale that is almost beyond belief. So-called documentaries and real life are as scripted and designed as much as any movie, drama or soap opera. TV producers can make films of people reading scripts and acting out preassigned roles and characters; and then go ahead and present it to the viewing public as a factual record of true life. There is no law that prevents them from doing this. Sometimes their machinations are exposed, as with Blue Peter and Family Confidential, but how much else do they get away with? What proportion of their chicanery slips through the net? The two examples I gave could be the tip of a huge and very sinister iceberg. If TV producers are presenting fictional material as fact and news then how can we trust them to tell us the truth about anything?
Sunday, 21 October 2007
The Real Erkdwala
This is incredible!: http://www.survival-international.org/news/2507
In my novel Rockall, which you can read for free on Ben's Bookcase (See the links column) I describe how people land on an unexplored island and find that it has a hitherto unknown native human population, a Stone Age culture called "ErkDwaLa". I began to wonder if this scenario could ever come true in the real world. Well it has! It’s generally assumed that the human exploration of the Earth is complete; that in this day and age we’ve traveled over every square inch of our planet’s land and there are no places that “civilized” man has never set foot. That’s a fallacy. Vast areas of this world have never been walked on by explorers and have only been mapped in recent years by satellite; in Africa, Siberia, North America, New Guinea and particularly the Amazon. Massive areas of this vast forest have remained hidden from the rest of the world. Recently a plane flew over a very remote area and found people living there! The photo shows a traditional Indian village, of the type all Amazonians used to live in before they were “civilized” by Western Conquistadors. The astonished residents are staring up at the aircraft. What is going through their heads is unimaginable! Imagine you’d lived your whole life in a tribal culture in the woods and knew nothing of the world beyond it. What would you think if you saw an aeroplane for the first time? What would you think if you saw people of a different race for the first time? Would you even identify them as human beings like yourself? How I feel about this matter is summed up by what Kayleigh says to Zach in my book:
“Are you OK?” asked Zach.
She nodded mournfully.
“It’s great when a baby’s born, isn’t it? I’ve often wondered what it’d be like to have a kid.”
“Yeah.” she sighed. “It’s always been the same for the ErkDwaLa, you know. Everyone’s been born and raised in that cave the same way; even Old Kerroj’s great-granddad’s great-granddad. I bet it hasn’t changed for thousands of years.”
“I suppose not. Why does that make you sad?”
She swung round in her seat and looked at him. “I’m just wondering what things will be like for Keesa’s baby when he’s old enough to become a father himself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Their world is about to meet ours, Zach. We can’t stop it. The next generation of ErkDwaLa will have to contend with that; and I’m afraid for them.”
There was a long pause. “So, what happens now?” asked Zach as he started the engine and put the Jaguar into gear.
“Nothing.”
“What do you mean nothing? We have to tell people about this.”
“No we don’t; and we’re not going to.”
“But the world has a right to know!”
“The world has no such right! Our modern society is built upon the broken lives of people like the ErkDwaLa! Dill told me!”
“That was centuries ago! And Dill’s a crank! Kayleigh, we can’t keep this a secret! You said it yourself; their world will eventually meet ours.”
“We can keep it a secret and we will! You will because you swore an oath to me that you would!” She rubbed her eyes and took on a calmer tone. “We will let the world know, eventually; but you’ve got to leave that to me. I’m going to let Dill in on it. I’ve got a feeling he suspects anyway; he knows the in-country better than anyone. We’ll contact someone who can help; maybe the United Nations.”
“Kayleigh, those people live in a filthy hole in the ground, even little kids! Nobody should have to endure that in this day and age! Why don’t we just go back there now and lead them all to Rockall Port, to civilization?”
She shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you?... To them we’re like aliens who’ve just landed from another planet. Until a couple of years ago they didn’t even know we existed. For them there is no outside world! This island and the sea as far as the horizon is all they know! They call it ‘Arkdwa’, but that word translates as ‘Rockall’, ‘World’ or ‘Universe’.”
“That’s all the more reason to widen their view of life; show them the rest of the world.”
“Show them what? A skyscraper hundreds of feet tall? An aeroplane? A computer? An ocean liner big enough to carry the entire ErkDwaLa population ten times over? Cities of a million people? Continents of a billion?... The technology, scale and diversity of the planet Earth would overwhelm them! The culture-shock would destroy their minds!... Zach, these people MUST be protected!”
The region where these Indians live is being opened up to the outside world. For the people who live there, I dread to think what will happen. They’re going to experience something very similar to what the whole world experiences in the novel War of the Worlds by HG Wells. Kayleigh is right; to them we are an empire from another galaxy descending on their defenseless little world. Logging companies will eventually try to take over and wipe out the very jungle that has been the core of their environment. The people will be exposed to our technology and it will seem like magic to them. They’ll be shown a world of proportions and diversity beyond their capacity to understand. They’ll experience Western vices of alcohol, drugs, money and modern hi-tech warfare. They’ll pick up diseases that their immune systems have never had to face before. As Kayleigh says, they MUST be protected.
This happened just last year in New Guinea too, my brother told me. An Australian expedition found a tribe of people. The first question the tribesmen asked the expedition, translated by their native guides, was "Why have you painted yourself white?" I'm concerned for these people. Will they survive psychologically being introduced to the wider world with its technology, diversity and strangeness? What must it must be like for them. A bit like an alien invasion of planet Earth! They HAVE to be protected!
For the time being, they should be left well alone. Maybe in the future, when we have a kinder and more peaceful and respectful world, we can go out and make contact with them. Then we can exchange ideas on a one-to-one basis. Interaction between our culture and theirs is not necessarily a bad thing, so long as it is carefully controlled and the needs of the recipients made a top priority. Let this interaction with modern culture be on a one-to-one basis instead of an exercise in aggressive conformism!
In my novel Rockall, which you can read for free on Ben's Bookcase (See the links column) I describe how people land on an unexplored island and find that it has a hitherto unknown native human population, a Stone Age culture called "ErkDwaLa". I began to wonder if this scenario could ever come true in the real world. Well it has! It’s generally assumed that the human exploration of the Earth is complete; that in this day and age we’ve traveled over every square inch of our planet’s land and there are no places that “civilized” man has never set foot. That’s a fallacy. Vast areas of this world have never been walked on by explorers and have only been mapped in recent years by satellite; in Africa, Siberia, North America, New Guinea and particularly the Amazon. Massive areas of this vast forest have remained hidden from the rest of the world. Recently a plane flew over a very remote area and found people living there! The photo shows a traditional Indian village, of the type all Amazonians used to live in before they were “civilized” by Western Conquistadors. The astonished residents are staring up at the aircraft. What is going through their heads is unimaginable! Imagine you’d lived your whole life in a tribal culture in the woods and knew nothing of the world beyond it. What would you think if you saw an aeroplane for the first time? What would you think if you saw people of a different race for the first time? Would you even identify them as human beings like yourself? How I feel about this matter is summed up by what Kayleigh says to Zach in my book:
“Are you OK?” asked Zach.
She nodded mournfully.
“It’s great when a baby’s born, isn’t it? I’ve often wondered what it’d be like to have a kid.”
“Yeah.” she sighed. “It’s always been the same for the ErkDwaLa, you know. Everyone’s been born and raised in that cave the same way; even Old Kerroj’s great-granddad’s great-granddad. I bet it hasn’t changed for thousands of years.”
“I suppose not. Why does that make you sad?”
She swung round in her seat and looked at him. “I’m just wondering what things will be like for Keesa’s baby when he’s old enough to become a father himself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Their world is about to meet ours, Zach. We can’t stop it. The next generation of ErkDwaLa will have to contend with that; and I’m afraid for them.”
There was a long pause. “So, what happens now?” asked Zach as he started the engine and put the Jaguar into gear.
“Nothing.”
“What do you mean nothing? We have to tell people about this.”
“No we don’t; and we’re not going to.”
“But the world has a right to know!”
“The world has no such right! Our modern society is built upon the broken lives of people like the ErkDwaLa! Dill told me!”
“That was centuries ago! And Dill’s a crank! Kayleigh, we can’t keep this a secret! You said it yourself; their world will eventually meet ours.”
“We can keep it a secret and we will! You will because you swore an oath to me that you would!” She rubbed her eyes and took on a calmer tone. “We will let the world know, eventually; but you’ve got to leave that to me. I’m going to let Dill in on it. I’ve got a feeling he suspects anyway; he knows the in-country better than anyone. We’ll contact someone who can help; maybe the United Nations.”
“Kayleigh, those people live in a filthy hole in the ground, even little kids! Nobody should have to endure that in this day and age! Why don’t we just go back there now and lead them all to Rockall Port, to civilization?”
She shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you?... To them we’re like aliens who’ve just landed from another planet. Until a couple of years ago they didn’t even know we existed. For them there is no outside world! This island and the sea as far as the horizon is all they know! They call it ‘Arkdwa’, but that word translates as ‘Rockall’, ‘World’ or ‘Universe’.”
“That’s all the more reason to widen their view of life; show them the rest of the world.”
“Show them what? A skyscraper hundreds of feet tall? An aeroplane? A computer? An ocean liner big enough to carry the entire ErkDwaLa population ten times over? Cities of a million people? Continents of a billion?... The technology, scale and diversity of the planet Earth would overwhelm them! The culture-shock would destroy their minds!... Zach, these people MUST be protected!”
The region where these Indians live is being opened up to the outside world. For the people who live there, I dread to think what will happen. They’re going to experience something very similar to what the whole world experiences in the novel War of the Worlds by HG Wells. Kayleigh is right; to them we are an empire from another galaxy descending on their defenseless little world. Logging companies will eventually try to take over and wipe out the very jungle that has been the core of their environment. The people will be exposed to our technology and it will seem like magic to them. They’ll be shown a world of proportions and diversity beyond their capacity to understand. They’ll experience Western vices of alcohol, drugs, money and modern hi-tech warfare. They’ll pick up diseases that their immune systems have never had to face before. As Kayleigh says, they MUST be protected.
This happened just last year in New Guinea too, my brother told me. An Australian expedition found a tribe of people. The first question the tribesmen asked the expedition, translated by their native guides, was "Why have you painted yourself white?" I'm concerned for these people. Will they survive psychologically being introduced to the wider world with its technology, diversity and strangeness? What must it must be like for them. A bit like an alien invasion of planet Earth! They HAVE to be protected!
For the time being, they should be left well alone. Maybe in the future, when we have a kinder and more peaceful and respectful world, we can go out and make contact with them. Then we can exchange ideas on a one-to-one basis. Interaction between our culture and theirs is not necessarily a bad thing, so long as it is carefully controlled and the needs of the recipients made a top priority. Let this interaction with modern culture be on a one-to-one basis instead of an exercise in aggressive conformism!
Saturday, 20 October 2007
Stephen Greer on Radio Out There
Stephen Greer has just been interviewed on by the Australian researcher Barry Eaton on his show Radio Out There. Here’s a link; it’s the top entry on the page: http://www.radiooutthere.com/blog/
I’ve got a lot of respect for Greer, but I think he’s wrong on a couple of things. He says that alien abductions are all done by government agents; it’s called “stagecraft”. They use drugs, electromagnetic attacks and genetically-engineered lifeforms to fool people into thinking they’re being taken by “greys” as part of the programme to build up fear of all things ET. I doubt this for two reasons. It may well be true that the government does this sometimes, but you can’t explain the entire abduction phenomenon this way. Greer himself has had some encounters with aliens that are very joyful, loving and enlightening; others experience encounters with aliens who are violent and callous involving torture, fear and sometimes sexual assault. The thing is that not all alien contact falls into these two polarities. They may include elements of both. The second reason I disagree with Greer is because the abduction phenomenon precedes the mass interest in UFO’s and aliens. The latter only began in the 1940’s whereas people were commonly abducted by non-human entities long before that. In fact if you go back in history to try to find a start to the phenomenon, you can’t find one. It actually goes back into prehistoric times and may well have been part of the human experience since we first came down from the trees. In ages past we didn’t call them aliens though, we called them fairies, trolls and pixies etc. Reports of people’s encounters with the “little folk” match modern accounts of alien abduction exactly: sometimes loving, educational and inspiring, other times frightening and painful, involving torture, rape and medical examination.
I’ve got a lot of respect for Greer, but I think he’s wrong on a couple of things. He says that alien abductions are all done by government agents; it’s called “stagecraft”. They use drugs, electromagnetic attacks and genetically-engineered lifeforms to fool people into thinking they’re being taken by “greys” as part of the programme to build up fear of all things ET. I doubt this for two reasons. It may well be true that the government does this sometimes, but you can’t explain the entire abduction phenomenon this way. Greer himself has had some encounters with aliens that are very joyful, loving and enlightening; others experience encounters with aliens who are violent and callous involving torture, fear and sometimes sexual assault. The thing is that not all alien contact falls into these two polarities. They may include elements of both. The second reason I disagree with Greer is because the abduction phenomenon precedes the mass interest in UFO’s and aliens. The latter only began in the 1940’s whereas people were commonly abducted by non-human entities long before that. In fact if you go back in history to try to find a start to the phenomenon, you can’t find one. It actually goes back into prehistoric times and may well have been part of the human experience since we first came down from the trees. In ages past we didn’t call them aliens though, we called them fairies, trolls and pixies etc. Reports of people’s encounters with the “little folk” match modern accounts of alien abduction exactly: sometimes loving, educational and inspiring, other times frightening and painful, involving torture, rape and medical examination.
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