Tatoo, Part 11
The $628 Billion Defeat
Jews Jaws Three Down
Shark America Seven Up
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 237
Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923
Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008
Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008
George W. Bush Will Destroy the World
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (11)
Today's code is "121st Day, Last Year".
God loves me for the way I disdain you Americans and your petty fascism.Noting the death of Albert Hofman, the discoverer of LSD, at 102; proof positive that acid will kill you.
I don't think I have ever talked to you about the few times I dropped acid, as we called taking the hallucinogenic in those days, or mentioned that I have always; been glad I did.
I was glad for a number of reasons. It was one of my first acts of self-defense as the US government's attack on me increased; and the experience alone was spirit-awakening; and it gave me an added layer of camouflage--(he dropped acid, what value is there in anything he says after that?)
You see, this great battle with the United States of America I am compelled by America to fight does not concern my ideas, it concerns America's claimed right to attack an American citizen no matter what it assumes his ideas to be; and ironically when America, in the form of US Naval Intelligence, first attacked me in Tokyo in 1967, my ideas were so patriotic they would make you want to puke.
We learn from experience what a wicked country we live in, but that's another story.
I first took acid when it had become clear there was no stopping, by reasoning or by pleading, the US government's attack on me, nor the blackballing of me from journalism by the American government's slut, the American news media.
I had just entered the Siberia of blacklisting, and was married to a Jewish woman who did not understand the concept of Truth, and except for God I had no kindred spirits from sea to shining sea.
There was a story going around about American military intelligence in those early years of the Seventies, about the government pigs exploring the mind-rape potential of LSD.
The story was government pigs had dropped acid on an unsuspecting military enlisted man who, in a state of panicked delirium, had committed suicide by jumping out a window.
The first layer of government pig attack on me was then as it still is, psycho-fascism, raping my mind, and so it did not seem out of the question that it would give me the LSD treatment, so I dropped some acid in the form of a "purple micro dot" to gain some experience in case that ever happened.
Possible scenario, I am at a party and I am handed a drink spiked with acid. If I am experienced with the drug I hand my wife the car keys and tell her what had just taken place; and then I ride the trip for the next eight hours, because I would have no choice but to ride the trip, ending it exhausted and depressed.
Know thy enemy. Know thy country is fully capable of doping you with acid. That was what was going on then.
(Note how that same country is now doping you with lies and dropping you into that vat of acid called war, and the same country that deliberately made me homeless is deliberately making millions of Americans homeless. Same leopard, same spots, its agenda further advanced.)
In all, I doubt that I dropped acid or any of its cousins more than six times total. It was always a drug that took too much time, for my taste, since it pretty well knocked me out of commission for 24 hours, and I did not have the time for that.
I will tell you this, though, I never had a bad acid trip; perhaps because I have always had my mind together; bruised sometimes, yes, but together.
Returning to Sweet Muse's story of Tatoo and the founding of the Japanese race by God's Space Sailors, while Tatoo and her clan are being prepared to meet the extraterrestrials, Chawon, in the form one of his some 100 incarnations as a Black Africa, was about to climb Mount Kilimanjaro to draw to a close his current life by falling asleep in the snow, when he saw the round space ship set down at snow level on its first trip to get water for the clan.
Tatoo, Part 11
Black Tea tore up the side of Kilimanjaro faster than he had ever done in the over 70 incarnations in which he had done so, He climbed like a man possessed, which he was.
Today Kilimanjaro is an easy climb, thousands have done it in one day, even children do it, but then there were only the nearly non-existent trails Black Tea himself had made in those previous incarnations as a Black African in which he had concluded his life by "tasting the snow", as he called it in all those incarnations, and "falling asleep in the snow", where the frozen, sleeping forms of all his bodies from all those lives still lay perfectly preserved.
Black Tea was an African warrior who could, like most African warriors of the time, run 30 miles in a day never reaching exhaustion, and even with that stamina it took him three days and two nights to reach the place in the snow where he had seen the round thing land...and it had landed again as he climbed, and once again, three times in all; and he reached the place at sunset of the third day, and walked to it, leaving bloody footprints in the snow, the leather-like soles of his feet cut by volcanic rock, but he not noticing; and he waited for it to come again...and waited...and waited...the fingers of the cold touching him and grabbing him like a mob of demons...he waited all night...and all the next day...eating nought but snow, his black body, so black it was nearly purple, drawing in and storing all the heat of the sun it could...then night fell again like a hooded executioner and still...then!...far to the northwest a brilliant light appeared in the sky, lighted like 10,000 warriors' campfires, and stayed there, wiggling slightly as if a fish remaining still in a stream awaiting its supper to swim by...then it raised up, up into the sky, became small, and disappeared.
Black Tea wept like a pitiful child standing forlorn next to the fresh grave of its mother. He knew he as seen his past. He knew he had seen what he always knew he was.
Standing there on the field of snow, beside the little flow of water the round thing had set down near three times, the little stream beginning to freeze to a stop, as it did every night without the warmth of the sun to give it life and movement, Tea surveyed the snowy slope with his old eyes, the slope where so many of his bodies lay, the slope where he had brought this body to fall asleep upon, and he said allowed, "No, this cycle stops right here. I have seen it once and I shall see it again"; and Black Tea made his way down Kilimanjaro, never to climb it again, and began his long trek northward, finally falling asleep in death in the mountains of Greece, there to find a womb through which to be born again.
To be sure, it was the Great Vessel we Space Sailors call Peacemaker Black Tea had seen from so far away, as it waited on station at the edge of space for smaller vessels to transport Tatoo and her clan aboard, three at a time.
"I have seen it once and I shall see it again," Black Tea had said. That was in 700 BC; but he was not to see Peacemaker again until 1972, some five years after we Space Sailors had found him on a battlefield--where else, where else, where else--living his life as Tea, the incarnation in which he put it all together, in which he learned the secret of the riddle of Molly's doom, of Hell's doom, or, as she had come to called on our new charts, Earth's doom.
(To Be Continued)
Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 121st day of its last year.
Jews Jaws Three Down
Shark America Seven Up
Number of Earthquakes in the Past Seven Days: 237
Virgil's Cell Phone Number: (530) 276-4923
Expect a Profound Act of God Against Israel & USA on June 7, 2008
Expect a Disastrous Earthquake on December 26, 2008
George W. Bush Will Destroy the World
Looking for the Peru-Chile God Event
Today: Tactics of the Smallville Battle: The Secret Story, Tatoo (11)
Today's code is "121st Day, Last Year".
God loves me for the way I disdain you Americans and your petty fascism.Noting the death of Albert Hofman, the discoverer of LSD, at 102; proof positive that acid will kill you.
I don't think I have ever talked to you about the few times I dropped acid, as we called taking the hallucinogenic in those days, or mentioned that I have always; been glad I did.
I was glad for a number of reasons. It was one of my first acts of self-defense as the US government's attack on me increased; and the experience alone was spirit-awakening; and it gave me an added layer of camouflage--(he dropped acid, what value is there in anything he says after that?)
You see, this great battle with the United States of America I am compelled by America to fight does not concern my ideas, it concerns America's claimed right to attack an American citizen no matter what it assumes his ideas to be; and ironically when America, in the form of US Naval Intelligence, first attacked me in Tokyo in 1967, my ideas were so patriotic they would make you want to puke.
We learn from experience what a wicked country we live in, but that's another story.
I first took acid when it had become clear there was no stopping, by reasoning or by pleading, the US government's attack on me, nor the blackballing of me from journalism by the American government's slut, the American news media.
I had just entered the Siberia of blacklisting, and was married to a Jewish woman who did not understand the concept of Truth, and except for God I had no kindred spirits from sea to shining sea.
There was a story going around about American military intelligence in those early years of the Seventies, about the government pigs exploring the mind-rape potential of LSD.
The story was government pigs had dropped acid on an unsuspecting military enlisted man who, in a state of panicked delirium, had committed suicide by jumping out a window.
The first layer of government pig attack on me was then as it still is, psycho-fascism, raping my mind, and so it did not seem out of the question that it would give me the LSD treatment, so I dropped some acid in the form of a "purple micro dot" to gain some experience in case that ever happened.
Possible scenario, I am at a party and I am handed a drink spiked with acid. If I am experienced with the drug I hand my wife the car keys and tell her what had just taken place; and then I ride the trip for the next eight hours, because I would have no choice but to ride the trip, ending it exhausted and depressed.
Know thy enemy. Know thy country is fully capable of doping you with acid. That was what was going on then.
(Note how that same country is now doping you with lies and dropping you into that vat of acid called war, and the same country that deliberately made me homeless is deliberately making millions of Americans homeless. Same leopard, same spots, its agenda further advanced.)
In all, I doubt that I dropped acid or any of its cousins more than six times total. It was always a drug that took too much time, for my taste, since it pretty well knocked me out of commission for 24 hours, and I did not have the time for that.
I will tell you this, though, I never had a bad acid trip; perhaps because I have always had my mind together; bruised sometimes, yes, but together.
Returning to Sweet Muse's story of Tatoo and the founding of the Japanese race by God's Space Sailors, while Tatoo and her clan are being prepared to meet the extraterrestrials, Chawon, in the form one of his some 100 incarnations as a Black Africa, was about to climb Mount Kilimanjaro to draw to a close his current life by falling asleep in the snow, when he saw the round space ship set down at snow level on its first trip to get water for the clan.
Tatoo, Part 11
Black Tea tore up the side of Kilimanjaro faster than he had ever done in the over 70 incarnations in which he had done so, He climbed like a man possessed, which he was.
Today Kilimanjaro is an easy climb, thousands have done it in one day, even children do it, but then there were only the nearly non-existent trails Black Tea himself had made in those previous incarnations as a Black African in which he had concluded his life by "tasting the snow", as he called it in all those incarnations, and "falling asleep in the snow", where the frozen, sleeping forms of all his bodies from all those lives still lay perfectly preserved.
Black Tea was an African warrior who could, like most African warriors of the time, run 30 miles in a day never reaching exhaustion, and even with that stamina it took him three days and two nights to reach the place in the snow where he had seen the round thing land...and it had landed again as he climbed, and once again, three times in all; and he reached the place at sunset of the third day, and walked to it, leaving bloody footprints in the snow, the leather-like soles of his feet cut by volcanic rock, but he not noticing; and he waited for it to come again...and waited...and waited...the fingers of the cold touching him and grabbing him like a mob of demons...he waited all night...and all the next day...eating nought but snow, his black body, so black it was nearly purple, drawing in and storing all the heat of the sun it could...then night fell again like a hooded executioner and still...then!...far to the northwest a brilliant light appeared in the sky, lighted like 10,000 warriors' campfires, and stayed there, wiggling slightly as if a fish remaining still in a stream awaiting its supper to swim by...then it raised up, up into the sky, became small, and disappeared.
Black Tea wept like a pitiful child standing forlorn next to the fresh grave of its mother. He knew he as seen his past. He knew he had seen what he always knew he was.
Standing there on the field of snow, beside the little flow of water the round thing had set down near three times, the little stream beginning to freeze to a stop, as it did every night without the warmth of the sun to give it life and movement, Tea surveyed the snowy slope with his old eyes, the slope where so many of his bodies lay, the slope where he had brought this body to fall asleep upon, and he said allowed, "No, this cycle stops right here. I have seen it once and I shall see it again"; and Black Tea made his way down Kilimanjaro, never to climb it again, and began his long trek northward, finally falling asleep in death in the mountains of Greece, there to find a womb through which to be born again.
To be sure, it was the Great Vessel we Space Sailors call Peacemaker Black Tea had seen from so far away, as it waited on station at the edge of space for smaller vessels to transport Tatoo and her clan aboard, three at a time.
"I have seen it once and I shall see it again," Black Tea had said. That was in 700 BC; but he was not to see Peacemaker again until 1972, some five years after we Space Sailors had found him on a battlefield--where else, where else, where else--living his life as Tea, the incarnation in which he put it all together, in which he learned the secret of the riddle of Molly's doom, of Hell's doom, or, as she had come to called on our new charts, Earth's doom.
(To Be Continued)
Meanwhile, the United States of America, unaware that it was about to eat the fire, passed through the 121st day of its last year.
posted by Virgil Kret at 8:04 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home