To follow this story if you haven’t read parts 1, 2 & 3 it helps...
PART 1 The Gumball Family Tree
PART 2 The Sugar Magnolia Family Tree
PART 3 The Rubicon Family Tree
Though each part will stand on its own to one degree or another.
Thank you for reading.
MACRO TO MICRO :
TRANSHUMANISM. That bug-a-bear. The melding of man and machine.
The dreamchild of Ray Kurzweil (original owner of Google). Who conceived of this horror twenty plus years ago so he can someday speak to his dear ol’ dead DADDY. YEP.
...or so the legend goes...
Pretty much the plot of Stephen King’s PET CEMETERY but with a dead DADDY instead of a dead LABRADOR RETRIEVER or some such.
...or the plot of that 80s B-Horror movie, RE-ANIMATOR.
THE WALKING DEAD if you’re into the whole zombie thing.
AND, of course, the grandaddy, FRANKENSTEIN.
Which did NOT go well for DOCTOR FRANKENSTEIN as I imagine it will not go well for the DOCTORS of today who have infected everyone with the dreadful nanotech and biosynthetics via the DEADLY POTION supplied courtesy of PFIZER, et al, to fulfill a US MILITARY CONTRACT.
AND MAKE PILES OF CASH. LOTSA MOOLA. AND KILL LOTSA PEOPLE.
...OR TRANSFORM THE “LUCKY ONES” (who manage to survive) INTO -
LIVING ROBOTS.
Since once the DEADLY DOCS have served their purpose, they will be retired to a museum somewhere in Middle America in a display like many a retired WEAPON OF WAR.
That’s right. The DOD. The DODO Bird Brains. The same geniuses that brought the world Nuclear Weapons and Agent Orange and Carpet Bombing and spent Uranium and strapping sonare devices to DOLPHINS and so very many glorious FALSE FLAGS it’s hard to wave them all.
AND the SCIENTISTS (of fiction) who promise a GLORIOUS FUTURE FOR MANKIND as they transform us without our consent into CYBORGS!
To read more about Neil’s incredible brain interfaced life click the link below :
Fabulous propaganda! Just KILLER! So VOGUE!
Of course that’s the pinnacle of cyborgdom. I mean, get real. There can only be ONE Katniss Everdeen. Everyone else is the gal in the background. The VIP LOUNGE has an occupancy limit and you gotta have SOMEBODY to make sure the glasses are full and the bathrooms are stocked with toilet paper. GEESH...GET REAL!
THE SCIENTISTS. Titans of Transhumanism. Emperors of Eugenics. Cuz that’s what “Transhumanism” is. A new and fancy word for “Eugenics”.
TRANSHUMANISM = EUGENICS.
Which sprang from the mind of the empty headed puppet Charles Darwin and his REVOLUTIONARY ENTIRELY UNPROVEN -
THEORY OF EVOLUTION! Ta! Da!
Natural selection being the modus operandi of said unproven theory. Which is now being taken to its conclusion in ACT 3 of the godless tragicomedy we are currently living.
Since it logically follows that if MAN is nothing more than an evolved beast-of-the-field, so to speak, then, like the beasts of the field, why should we NOT breed MAN selectively and “weed out” the inferior that only “weaken” the “integrity” of the breed?
WHY SHOULD WE NOT CREATE THE UBERMENSCH?
Why should we NOT inject the breed to make it “stronger”? Why should we NOT cut the testicles off the young bulls or geld the young stallions? Why should we NOT make the inferior infertile? Why should we NOT have the old and the sick PUT DOWN?
Why should we NOT organize natural selection and have it work for us rather than leaving it up to random chance?
WE ARE ONLY ANIMALS AFTER ALL.
Doctors will become extinct because all we really need are VETERINARIANS. Preferably AI Vets cause that’s all that’s needed.
Real SCIENTISTS will become extinct. Only TV scientists will survive.
God will be declared dead and didn’t exist anyway. Useless.
AND THIS, MY FRIEND, IS HOW “THEY” SLEEP SOUNDLY AT NIGHT.
MACRO to MICRO : On with the story of my Hybrid Family Tree...
As I chronicled in earlier posts, interfamilial breeding was a well respected practice in my Freemason family. Of course this is nothing unusual as breeding among royalty and families has been practiced from the beginning of time. On both sides of the aisle.
Adam and Eve. Eve and The Snake. Able and Cain. Fratricidal Murder. Sins and Hardships. Scappin’ for Scraps.
On the Fraternal side of the Hybrid Family Tree, we have six very large and extra tall siblings born to two very small and short parents. Hmmm… A family where secrets abound under the cover of poverty and abuse and strange family ties and odd relationships.
BOB HOPE. SAM WALTON. (or Hugh Hefner?)
Is it me or do these two look eerily like the SAME PERSON?
I’m just sayin’. This “breeding” stuff is more like a gopher hole than a rabbit hole it’s so big and deep.
Sam sold factory seconds in a small store in Arkansas in 1949.
Hugh published the first issue of Playboy in 1949.
I was once “randomly” solicited to appear in Playboy.
I used to shoplift as a teenager from Walmart on the regular, but it wasn’t even shoplifting. I’d just walk in, take what I wanted and walk out. As if I knew I could do this. I never even thought about it.
Once, an enormous stunned owl was by the driver’s side door of my car in a Walmart parking lot. I picked it up, put it in my car thinking it was dead and it came back to its senses in the backseat. I pulled over and we made quite a scene.
On the Maternal side of the Hybrid family Tree we have Freemasons and Indians. And violence and abuse and alcoholism and religion and unbridled avarice.
My (future) Mother liked her new school. It was small and easy.
Beaver School. She became a cheerleader. The popularity and attention warmed her tender covert narcissistic heart and NOBODY cared that she was an INDIAN.
She met my (future) Father. How could she NOT? There were only a handful of kids in the class. He was VERY intimidating to her.
He was VERY intimidating to everyone. Not only was he the only truly gifted athlete in the school and handsome and six foot six inches tall, but he was also having an affair with a MARRIED WOMAN TWICE HIS AGE. A woman with children. And a husband.
A SEX AFFAIR.
No one in this tiny school in this tiny town knew what to make of this much less what to say. Only whispers.
Then one fine day, my (future) Father asked my (future) Mother for a date. She accepted. They began dating.
My (future) Mother was not in love at first sight and vice-a-versa with my (future) Father. But date they did.
What prompted this budding relationship? No one could remember...
Instead they grew to be friends. Neither one had ever had a real friend. They understood one another without having to explain.
No one knew what became of the older woman lover. She seemed to disappear like the morning dew.
My BIG BLACK IRISH FREEMASON (Worshipful Master) GRANDFATHER was inexplicably delighted with the match. He took my (future) Father under his wing and wound the young man up in his web.
So...now my (future) Mother & Father had to fall in love and so they did as only impressionable teenagers who have never known love or kindness or approval can do when they find ACCEPTANCE.
And find it they did. From both sides of the Hybrid Family Tree.
And so they began having “relations” under the full approval of everyone around them.
And in their Senior Year of Beaver School they became the Homecoming King and Queen.
And by the Springtime, my (no longer future) Mother knew she was pregnant. With me. She told me many times she knew it was me. She told me she had known I was coming from the time she was twelve years old. She knew my name.
My Mother was very frightened of telling my Father her condition. Pregnancies were not necessarily joyful news in her world. She did what any young traumatized girl would do, she hid it.
A Senior Class trip was planned. Beaver school had chosen out of all possibilities to take the soon-to-be-graduates to an -
EXECUTION. At an Arkansas Penitentiary.
The reasoning being it would be a sober lesson for the graduating students as they launched their lives in the world to lead a law abiding life, always walking the straight and narrow. Yes, Sir.
Tensions ran high among the excited students. Some looked forward to actually watching someone die. Some grew ever more anxious.
And one had MORNING SICKNESS from the motion of the bus because she was pregnant.
And my Mother threw up and the odor in the hot bus made my Father’s anxiety rise and he began throwing up.
And by the time the bus arrived at the Penitentiary, both my parents were very sick so they were left behind on the bus as the others went in to watch the man fry.
My Father looked at my Mother retching and said,
“You’re more pitiful than me. Will you marry me?”
The tension drained from my Mother’s young body.
I’m sure I felt it, too.
NEXT : The Start of Young Family Life.
ADDENDUM : Whatever was happening with the strange staring people and my poor cat being killed has stopped. This is a common practice of gangstalking. I’ve been here before. I am fine. It may start again. IDK. I’m telling readers about it not for sympathy, but to let you know why people do NOT talk about the things I’m speaking of. Even at the lower levels of Generational Satanic Occult Organizations, the first rule is :
THERE IS NO FIGHT CLUB. Or, never tell. Never. Deny Everything.
That’s why more people don’t talk. I understand.
God Bless Us All.
PIRATE EYES.
This seems to be alien, " otherish" world balancing between reality and dimensions . Walmart is never on my itinerary it gives me the same psychic feeling as casinos.
Praying for you. Psalm 27:1
The Lord is my light and salvation: whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?