Angel in the Prison Cell

 
I have some interesting news for you today.
 
First, there was development in the space war military maneuver called "The Pyramid Gin"; and second, I have been asked to tell you the Little Miracle story called "Angel in the Prison Cell"; and third, I have been asked to give you the code "C-130" for your later enjoyment and edification.
 
The Pyramid Gin was discussed in my report of a week ago tomorrow, January 3, and it described a space war maneuver designed to trim the world's Pyramid of Power from the top down; to encourage, perhaps, people in power to turn their attention to the real crisis of the day, the approaching death of this Earth in less than 60 years.
 
In measuring the depth of this attack I estimated it would bring about the surrender of the Pyramid of Power by the time the cut reached the iris of the eye on the pyramid on the backside of the one dollar bill.  I have not spent much time calculating that depth, but I would estimate it to be where the pyramid would be about five stones across.
 
This estimation will become important as this maneuver progresses, whether it is right or wrong.
 
That the first trimming of the Pyramid involved the striking down of Israel's Ariel Sharon may not seem like such a big thing because Sharon is just short of 78 years old, and hospitalization at that age is to be expected.
 
It is the timing of the event relative to the starting up of the Pyramid Gin that is important here.
 
You can see the second layer of the cut in Monday morning's news, with the hospitalization of "Vice President" Dick Cheney and the motorcycle accident involving California's actor-Governor Arnold Schwartzenegger and his son.
 
That the second layer of trimming involved the striking down of two people at the top of the Pyramid of Power in close time-juxtaposition is important, also is the going from one person who, like Sharon, is old and in poor health to another person who is younger and robust.
 
Since the first cut involved one stone, Sharon, and the second cut involved two stones, I am now looking for a third event which will involve three stones, three people.  At about that time, if that takes place, this demonstration should be getting rather eerie, since the next development would be four people, then five people, and so on.  That's why I think we can expect surrender by row five.
 
The C-130 code concerns the story of a prison break, the closest reference would be to the movie "Conair", which involved a C-130 aircraft.  I have little more on this code, other than there was a pictorial that went with it having to do with escape aboard a C-130 through use of hand grenades.
 
That brings us to the Little Miracle story called Angel in the Prison Cell.
 
In the past I have described a few Little Miracles, how God gave me a dollar bill out of thin air, how God cracked one of the huge stone blocks in the wall of the old city of Jerusalem right before my eyes, how God led me to a cave in the wilderness when I was caught in a sleet and snow storm.
 
Long time readers may be familiar with some or all of those Little Miracle stories.   Any readers who would want me to tell them again, please let me know and I will try to work them in in the course of the swashbuckling defeat of Republican American Fascism now underway.
 
The Angel in the Prison Cell was not such a big Little Miracle; but the Angel did something and said something in the prison cell I think you might be interested in, even though you might find it anti-climatic or even humdrum.
 
This Little Miracle took place in my prison cell in Singapore, a prison cell the American Department of State had taken great pleasure (and violated US law and custom) in herding me into, but that's another story.
 
As prison cells go it was not a bad prison cell.
 
I had a cot cemented down in the middle the small cement room; only one blanket because the climate in Singapore is warm; a woven straw mat to cover the cot; a chamber pot for when I was not allowed out of my cell; I could keep tea in my cup to sip during the night; I had my very beautiful little Bible I had bought in London and had pressed in it a dried rose I had bought fresh in Venice; and there I was, prisoner in a foreign prison, happily reading my bible cover to cover, and sniffing my rose and sipping my tea.
 
As I said, it was not a bad prison cell as prison cells go; and frankly it was a bit of a break from the exhausting. traveling I had just done from London through Europe through Israel through India through Thailand through Malaysia to Singapore, every country I has passed through slavishly following America's lead in how to treat the only audible mental telepath in human history.
 
I had been sentenced to four years in prison for having no money and no way out of Singapore, but I was confident I would get out much sooner, and in fact I got out in five weeks through use of brains and faith in God, but that's also another story.
 
So, it was early December and the weather was balmy; and there was no glass, only bars, on the small window of my cell so the sweet night air came in; and I was lying back in my boxer shorts (we prisoners not being allowed other clothes) on my cot after lights out, meditating in what I call my "Mummy Pose", when who should unexpectedly appear at the foot of my cot but a very kind and friendly Angel.
 
Now when I say "appear", you could not have seen the Angel even had you been there, and I in fact could not see this Angel either in the normal sense, but the fact that I have telepathic abilities about ten thousand times that of the average human being gave me what might be called a bat's-eye view.
 
You are welcome to delude yourself by calling this a hallucination; that is of no importance nor interest to me.
 
So, there stands the Angel at the foot of my cot, and what did the Angel say?  "Virgil, you are a good man."
 
I have always found that a very interesting thing for the Angel to have said because I would have expected on such an occasion something much more grand or holy.  "Hail, Virgil, loyal son of God, I bring you greetings...", something like that.
 
"Virgil, you are a good man."
 
So the Angel and I began to have a little talk about my future, my future as psycho-fascist America had it laid out for me:  prison, nut houses, torture, despair, poverty, and lonely death.  That is why the Angel began by telling me I am a good man, because my whole God-damned country would try to convince me otherwise.
 
So, sitting on by cot in my underwear I joked to the Angel, "I think I should be inoculated against this", and in the semi-darkness of my cell there appeared a little white tornado about an inch and a half long, and it burrowed into my left arm just where I had received my childhood inoculations.  It left a scar that lasted several months.
 
Like I say, this was not a big event.  It seemed (how can I say this?) rather commonplace; and as I think about it, all the Little Miracles that have been given to me have seemed commonplace at the time; nothing special, no trumpets, no heavenly choir.
 
It was in that spirit God led me to a cave that saved my life; it was in that spirit God gave me a dollar out of thin air because I said I was hungry; and it was in that spirit God gave me the future of Jerusalem when God cracked that huge stone before my eyes.
 
So, that is what God asked me to tell you today.  I think you might find it interesting as time goes by, like a flower sprouting from the soil and growing to its beautiful unfolding.  It is my feeling God is about to give you all a Little Miracle.
 
Oh, yes, there was one other thing I was asked to tell you during my morning Mummy Pose meditation prior to writing this today.  I quote:  "You  have the expression, 'The bigger they come the harder they fall'; we have the expression, 'The bigger the lie the hotter the Hell'."
 
I have been asked to talk to you in my next report about abortion, and the hypothesis that mass abortion is one of the greatest errors in the history of the human being.