Words are the most important thing you can know. This was a lesson I learned at a very young age from my uncle Don. I never really cared too much for my Uncle Don, and I think the reason is because he didn’t seem to care an awful lot about me. At least that is what I used to believe. I remember sitting in his den while he rocked back and forth in his laz-e-boy sipping on a jack and coke with red in his cheeks. “So this guy walks into a bar with a half grown alligator…” his joke begins.
It never ended with a Baptist twist. It was always something vile, morbid, heretical and carnal, garnished with a hint of humor and dismissiveness. Even though I rarely got the punchline, my Uncle Don laughed his ass off. I remember him as a man of great humor, a man that saw the funny in all of it. All the bullshit of life is nothing more than a joke, something to be scoffed at. It comes and it goes and you can either get all ruffled up about it or you can simply throw back a jack and coke while laughing. That was my Uncle Don. The very embodiment of the phrase “Fuck It.”
I think this is why I secretly admired the man. Though, at the time I believed he thought little of me, I couldn’t help but to love the guy. In my young eyes I saw him as this titan that never let any shit cling to him. I had seen my own dad get flustered at times but I can honestly say that I never saw my Uncle Don bat an eye in the face of the woes of the world. He had swag. I think that’s the best I can say about the man.
Now that I am older and have had the privilege of being an elder in the midst of children I view my childhood a little differently now. Especially in regards to my Uncle Don. Those times I thought he was being cruel to me with his jokes, or when I thought he was insulting me with his opinions; I now understand that he was attempting to engage my mind. He was giving me the privilege of stepping onto an intellectual battlefield with him. Looking back now, I feel honored. As I often say; “The only time you should worry is when I’m not talking to you at all.”
When I was around 12 or 13 my grandfather developed cancer and came to live with us. It was terminal and hospice had been called in. In my most influential years I found that my world became very dark. The underlying motif of my early years was death. I was surrounded by it. Death in the living room, death of innocence, death of youth, death of family. One of the first movies I ever rented in an account under my name was Bram’s Stoker’s Dracula. How screwed up is that? Why the fuck is a thirteen year old renting Dracula? It wasn’t because Wynona Ryder might show a nip or two; it was the burning question of if there was a past life here or not and if so was it better than the one I was living now. It was a time of extreme growth for me and even though my home was filled with the rotating faces of so called “family”, I was apt to keep to myself. However one day in particular my Uncle Don and I had what I would call a moment. I think this moment probably defined for me all that my Uncle Don was really about. If anything, this moment would shape and define most of my life from that point until this.
My brother was working at some chicken joint a few towns over and needed a lift from work; however no one was available to grab him up with the exception of my Uncle who volunteered. Being a stranger to our state, he didn’t know his way around and dubbed me as his navigator to which I was none too pleased. The first few minutes on the way to Beech Island South Carolina in his little warrior pickup truck was silent and awkward. I never really had too much to say to him and perhaps that was out of some sense of intimidation. I don’t really know. Then, suddenly he turned the radio down and began to speak. Even though at first it seemed as if he were merely trying to make conversation and break the silence of the ride, I would soon discover that the man was about to pass along one of the greatest pearls of wisdom I have ever been entrusted with.
“Hey boy, tell me something.” Uncle Don said.
“What’s that?” I asked sheepishly.
“What are they telling you in school is the most important subject?”
“Well, they tell me math is the most important subject.”
“Do what?” I asked.
“I said that’s a bunch of bullshit. I like your hat boy.”
I smiled awkwardly and tugged on my fedora. I was a little pleased he noticed.
“I like that hat so much I’d like to have two of ‘em.” He said.
“Really?” I asked enthusiastically.
“Yeah. One to put all that bullshit in and another to cover it up with.” He laughed.
I didn’t know if he was ripping me and my taste in hats or if he was still ripping the system that had taught me that math was the most important subject. Either way, my prepubescent hormones forced me to automatically be offended. I think he could tell by my body language and thus quickly adjusted his approach.
“It’s words, boy. Words are the most important subject. English, literature, poetry. Words, son. Words.” My Uncle said with confidence.
“How do you figure, Uncle Don?” I asked with a curious ear.
“Well it’s like this son; I’m a painter by trade. That is what I do. I own a painting company. Now in my trade I have competition, other assholes out there that want to paint places for money just like me. So, men like us have to advertise. We have to let people know that we are offering our services and that’s where the newspaper comes in. Now, my competition runs an ad in the classifieds that says ‘will paint your house: $500.00’ and maybe they get a little business. So guess what I do.” He taught.
“What’s that?” I bounced back.
“I turn around and run an ad that says ‘will pressure wash, scrape, sand, caulk, prime and add finish coat to your house: $2000.00.’ I run that ad and I will get two or three times as much business than my competition. Now, tell me what my ad really said.”
I thought for a minute but knowing nothing of the painting trade I was at a loss. I knew this was a teachable moment for me and I didn’t want to botch it all up but I honestly knew nothing of my Uncle’s trade and didn’t know how to dissect his words to provide an intelligent comeback. Of course he knew this and ultimately it was a part of his lesson. He didn’t let me squirm too long before providing the answer.
“Basically son, my ad said ‘will paint your house’. I just used better words.” He answered.
At that moment the entire world made sense. It was as if my Uncle Don had given me this great secret of the Universe that he only shared with an elite few and I was privileged enough to be one of them. Words; the way they are used can do so much. Words are a form of magic if not the embodiment of magic. How words are placed together or used in a structure can build empires or start world wars. Words can break a human being apart or build him from scratch. Words in proper use can do all manner of things and should be trusted in the hands of those that weave them for a living; those folks being writers. Though I had the spirit of a writer from birth I believe it was this moment that solidified in my heart and mind the idea of being a writer. To this day I do not know if my Uncle was aware of what he was doing on that level, but even if he wasn’t I am in his debt. That long, awkward ride to Beech Island formed one of the greatest parts of my soul and spirit. That day my Uncle gave birth to the writer that I am now.
Ironically enough, my Uncle Don was a Master Mason. He went through all thirty three degrees I believe. Like all Freemasons, he didn’t talk openly about the lodge or the secret knowledge he had, however that didn’t stop him from passing along wisdom in parables or jokes. One had to be able to read between the lines to grab the wisdom. One had to hear the secret language of those who know. This language comes out right alongside normal conversation but can only be deciphered by those with their third eye on.
I am not one of those people who believe the Freemasons are the root of all the world’s ills. I do recognize and admit that certain lodges have been used by dark forces for the past two hundred years and are indeed involved with the so called Illuminati. However I do not believe this should be a condemnation of the fraternity as a whole. It is my understanding that there is a silent war going on within the lodges of Freemasonry. Much like Star Wars, there is a Light side as well as a Dark side to the Force. The Force or fabric of the Universe is neutral; it doesn’t prefer one way or another. It is much like the surface of a lake, it just is. However certain forces can push the tide one way or another. Since the revolution of our great America the lodges have been infiltrated by the Jesuit order of the Vatican and the system of secret societies has been compromised but let us not forget that those secret societies were created to prevent the extinction of Gnosis at the hands of the pope. The mystery schools became mystery to prevent burnings at the stake. Secret societies such as the Freemasons were created to preserve the ancient knowledge the church wished to destroy so that a future generation could receive the truth and change the world back to the way it was intended to be. That generation is ours.
It can be no coincidence that the new Star Wars movies that follow the down fall of the empire just so happen to be coming out after December 21st, 2012. As they say, life and art are intertwined. Hollywood or “movie magic” is trying to tell us something, not program us with something as most conspiracy theorists will tell you. When movies like The Matrix exist which openly tell you that the world is a simulation and you were born a slave, you cannot say you are being programmed so much as you are being told the truth. How you respond, however, is the key to this whole thing. There is an Illuminati that controls things from behind the scenes, however the fact I don’t think most have arrived at yet is there are two sides to that Illuminati. There is a bad side that starts wars, sprays chemtrails, performs false flags and injects your kids with vaccines, but there is also the good side that warns you, guides you, protects you and provides for you. The entire Universe is balance, it is Yin and Yang and it would be foolish to believe there is a group of entities that manipulate society for the ill from behind the scenes and has a global reach without also believing there is a similar group working for our highest good.
It is my belief this Light side has indeed been dormant for quite some time as if they have been in a coma of sorts. How long this has been so, I cannot say but what I do know is that this Light side of the so called Illuminati is waking up and since 2012, the little eyes of Horus are waking up at exponential rates. Though I do not like labels so much, many call them “Light workers”, “Star seeds” etc. etc. and that is fine by me I suppose. These titles add a hint of the other-worldly or extraterrestrial and if you ask me that is a perfect description of what I think is going on here on planet Earth. An invasion of sorts is taking place right underneath the noses of the masses. It is not happening with motherships landing on the White House lawn; rather the invasion is happening within our own DNA. For those who have managed to balance the four fold nature of man, emotion, intellect, physicality and spirituality a change is taking place. Much like the so called fiction of Stan Lee’s X-Men, evolution is indeed taking a giant leap forward and while it is in its embryo stage those of us experiencing it must be cautious of organized religion, the state and those who blindly follow both. They fear the extinction of humanity as it has been for several cycles and will do anything and everything in their power to prevent the upgrade that is coming to our planet. It is this danger that organizations such as the Freemasons were created to begin with, regardless of how much of those organizations have been corrupted. Nevertheless, it is my belief that those corruptions will soon be corrected. The question is, if humanity is enduring an invasion from consciousness outside of our planet and galaxy, and that invasion is to save us; what or who is it saving us from?
At this point I would remind you that words are the most important thing. We cling to certain words or descriptions but quickly discard others of equal value. For example, most orthodox Christians will openly admit to believing in the existence of angels and demons but will turn away at the mention of aliens or archons. Is there really a difference? Is there really a difference between what the Quran calls jinn, the bible calls demons and the U.F.O community calls greys? I think not. I think they are all one and the same only described with different words. What a strange line of logic to believe in alien abductions but dismiss the idea of demon possession.
I believe the Bible is indeed inspired by the great Universe in the sky, however I also believe that the 66 books of the King James Version is nowhere near all the scriptures produced by the influence of Yeshua the Christ. No, I believe to get a deeper understanding of his message and mission one must open themselves up to the Gnostic gospels that were so carefully hidden from the torch of Rome. In those writings one will discover that people such as David Icke aren’t so crazy after all and the idea of a race of reptile beings that has indeed been mucking about with humanity for quite some time is no mere conspiracy theory. The ancients knew this and plead with us through time to recognize this is going on. A vampiric race of entities outside visible light do indeed feed off of us and in fact power their society on all our negative vibrations. We are very much like the battery that Morpheus held in his hand when trying to relate the reality of the world to Neo. It is best that the masses not know they exist but for those of us with our third eye on, we can see them and in so doing the system of the world can never be played the same way for us.
I remember watching hours and hours of research in this field and somewhat believing that reptile entities did in fact exist, however there was still that cloud of doubt that made me think all of it was just a hoax…until they finally decided to reveal themselves to me. It was shortly after I gave a Shriner the lions grip hand shake just to see what would happen and shortly before I would find myself in the precarious situation of getting murdered by my wife who was under Project Monarch mind control programming by the Freemasons. Good times, good times.
A SONG TO PLAY US OUT…