ONLY from utter chaos can a new system arise based on individuality, and justice for all.

I do not know if the price is  too high for true freedom?   I do not know if we can be trusted to be a pure democracy when the individuals rights are also sacred.  I do know that there are those plotting right now to use advanced, ready to implement, microwave brain controlling devices, which can alter behavior, mood, create physical reactions...  and allegdly a HIVE MIND of up to TWENTY FIVE MILLION.  Will the last battle be fought by soldiers who enter into a mentality, that acts as their armor, causing them to always act precisely as best they should in every situation?   Or to alter a politicians vote?   To get a person to have an affair, take photos...  make a person appear mad, hearing voices, and end their life in either an asylum or a life of remaining silent on that which is most important to him.... to live a secret life of the mind that no one else can be trusted to understand, though some few try and seem to.


I have been meaning to write that the bits you are seeing coming out right now on line, are the metaphors and context for what will be larger scenes.  Like in this one, I will write it as a guerrilla operation to start taking out the so called death towers and satallite array and sattalites that have set up their system...  while at the same time trying to use the tech for myself, to keep my soldiers at their peak as well, so they can not only compete, They Must Win.  And they do in the end. 


This I have already seen.  You have angered me in the flesh, which I have made clear to you is not healthy to the flesh around you.  In my rages I will send you to soul without a thought...  though I am not a premeditated murderer.   This is why I need my silence, to sooth my arguements down from the one who strives for a remembered perfection....


  I remember during the first days as  I realized something extrodinaire was happening, that I was waking up....  when my God Consciousness first began to break thru the human where I had been hidden for forty five years...  Everyting around me held meaning.  The world knew who I was and I was just beginning to...  I was sitting at my desk overlooking a sleepy extension of Lake Shore Drive in Chicago, in a small room with three huge windows to look out across a park and see the magnifence blue of the lake, the huge sky beyond...  and I SAW DUST MOTES in golden rays of Sunshine and everything made sense to me, I SAW the enter connectedness of the universe in that dust, saw all of which we came from there hovering in the light, a dim gray spot that somehow morphed into everything around me.  A grand plan seemed to be coming to me, a universal meaning that would explain everything on the planet, in the cosmos...    UNIVERSAL LAWS... that made sense of what I had long before given up on making sense of -- our mad, mad, mad world.

I was sure I would lead humans to world peace, by my very presence...  but no, you had to fight me.  Like in the Simpson's episode where they showed me as a Peaceful Maggie who brough peace on earth, being worshipped by nuns.... then Marge grabs Maggie and puts BART on the throne, and all Hell, LITERALLY, BEGINS BREAKING OUT... ends with the great Bart saying, "I am staying awake way past my bedtime tonight."    So many movies done about me...  always their criticism is shallow.  I cried.  I admitted an indescretion or two...  I talked about the creature that I was hidden within to shed him like a snake its skin.... to humanize myself, and others... to stop your bullying.  To stop your racism.   I do not like oppression, see it as a problem unto itself, no matter who is suffering.  I have no right to judge the children of God... you will one day again be my friend, this I know, throughout any wars we fight, throught the back and forth media slaughters....


I KEEP wanting to get to the show Grimm, because working in a tv show that is about this works here...  they are writing about a secret war, that no one knows about....  just like two films came out about the White House falling when it was taken over...   the best way to show everyone, no matter how off the grid, what has happened, while still hiding as much from the masses.




Then I became threatened, my very privacy stolen because it became worth too much to ruthless people, who wanted me to lead only so far, only until I butted up against their plans and then I was tricked, jailed, punished... whatever. 

During this time the revolution that I had started needed my leadership, and under-estimated what the brainwashing had done to me, how destabilizing the experience was.  I did not know who to believe and they had cleverly surrounded me with plants, operatives ready for this plan... the big one, a plan they had been worked on for I know at least seventy years, and beyond that one can only speculate, but the people I learned about in the world of the elite, think in very long terms -- longer than a lifetime, so it is no wonder most people miss the plan, becomes it creeps up on them.  Encroaching a bit more into your face year after year until just having a decent job no longer necessarily buys a decent life.

I have been thinking a lot about the structuring of the chapters.  Which stories I am going to expand on, perfect prosaicly as much as I possibly can, and I do consider myself a poet and hate to use throw away lines;  classically trained in writing literature, I love the quotable line, not the grunt and the hand signal that leads to the next pretending he's a spy doing good to launch ito a battle scene, which the author see's already in the movie with special effects explosions.  No, this is a real book.  A rare sort in this day and age.   The internet publishing phenomena has set up a system like there was for a few hundred years here and there throught the growth of human history, where in people wrote books purely for the love of the art, or the subject or the history;   I picture English lords and what not writing books on the side.   A lot of people write books on the side.  I trained diligantly in  few things, and none ever more so than learning to use the written word to make scenes, draw laughter and thought and patriotism and love and hate...

Why would I not use the internet this time around... why do you think this huge bible of mine exists, all over the world, for the savvy to tap into and the interested to burn after reading.  They will come for those who follow me again, one day, and gather their forces as we speak.  Old Allies must put away even the freshest wounds, and realize that you needed only consult me properly, and give me an education in the manner you have in the last few years, where I had access to at least a treasure trove of intelligence knowledge about how the world works for a person starving as I had been, spending every day searching fruitlessly for on the web, tv....   I will accept the help of everyone who has the same values I have, even if they are simply live and let live, whether you like the person or not.

I think a lot of the criminals.  I was in a dark room taking swings at anything that looked like a threat, or theft, or much, much worse...  I treated every group the same, you included, buried your doings with the others, in the secret history book of the rages and triumphs and tragedies of the secret war... the one that we try to keep from the civilians so society can continue to function for them, so there is actually something to go back to when we lose these cover personalties, and try to find out what is left of us, what has been burned away, scarred over, become a horror of a memory in your mind....  I was wrong about many things and you were one of them.  Like many, I apologize for my over-reactions

No one wants to hear my excuses ---well, fuck you =, because these are the reasons these things happened, and your BELIEF does not mean shit to the TRUTH.

I want to leave victimless crime alone.  People are profiting from the misery of others, and we have developed a police state.  We have, through our lies, gone too far toward trying to limit what our fellow humans do.  We have no right to play God, to say this will damn you and that will save you.   I played the cop as an avenger from Hell, a Demon collecting the souls of the damned.  I played the soldier defensively,  to put out fires, stop mass murder, counter threats to me, and confront what I thought were lies.

  I put together bits of pieces still of what you put in your tv shows, what they say.

A very strongly fictionalized part of the story is going involve how the mass media, and particularly tv and movies were used in my story, and still are.   This is a revolution, a war amongst various groups for control of limited resources;  not time to sit back and not think about how you are going to feed your villagers for the next fifty years,  time to act.

I have sabotaged, unknowingly quite often though certainly led by the hand of God and man, a one world government, and a one world religion... perhaps they will try now to use Islam as the opiate of the masses, that which steals the precious gift that I will not allow the owner to lose, their free will.

Another Irony was hearing that people had sublimated their individuality to act in the ways that I was, or to believe as I did, live as I lived....   clothing was worn TO DENOTE THINGS I was clueless about.  When I heard Yellowism, I knew to respond to the tv, that NO I DID NOT THINK EVERYTHING WAS ART.    I understood later they meant this toward me when a passing stranger said to me, I THOUGHT YELLOW WAS OVER... when I was wearing a yellow shirt.   I put the two together and feel the usual sinking in my stomach at the idea of being filmed and watched.   The affront will never go away, not to this flesh...  never forget rape.    Never forget who allowed you to get raped, either.   I kept thinking there were honest people ready to come to my aide and rescue me from the hellish life I was stranded within, broke when my words were so popular I should have had plenty of money to work with, to run charities and give away and all the things I have dreamt of doing with money, none of it revolvng around my own creature comforts.

They were filming HIM all the time.  Spies were telling the media things about him, some of them could obviously see him and addressed him directly.   He was not sure what the hell to do in such situations, because he did not want to believe these people who had invaded his house expected him to go along with them....   I did not even want to believe it was really happening.   When Robert Downey Junior, an actor I have always admired, seemed to be talking directly to me, and reminded me that he had been in Chaplin, like I did not know who he was....  I had just been watched too long, messed with too long, believed it would be over and some good life would follow for too long to keep believing it... so ALL I cared about was myself in a way.

I still have a very hard time accepting how huge all of this has become, how a revolution has brought changes to the world, a movement has been started, among many, who will work together one day in the future, and not repeat these mistakes of the past.

The banking needs to change.   This and the idea that the Jews are sinning mightely in Israel and in banking, the stock market, and other ways, along with a lot of others, and have basically forced all politicians in the west to support Israel.  I do not care which religion the bankers are at all.   I suppose it is wrong to blame the federal reserve and the banks on all Jews, which IS WHY I DO NOT.  Individuals are all I wish to see....  though I have to judge politiical parties should people band together in them.   Right now, I am stupidly enough still thinking of how sarah silverman who hates me put out an insulting though basically true statement out on Christmas.  Her intent was to insult people... and especially me.   Most people would not even get this joke, without knowing that they filemed me masterbating and pretended this was something I wanted widly viewed.  Filming even iny bathroom, I sure as hell did not feel like I had any privacy left.... 



 was not sure how huge the audience but occasionally His words would control the content of the programs of the tv that day, etc....  I switch to second person, as I should use more in this book, since looking back I do feel like I am writing about someone else.


I see the scene back in 07 when a bizarre trance started and I began writing words that made no sense to anyone except me... then it was in the hospital, for the most bizarre experience of my life, the brain washing...  I was changing the world with my words, knew because I could tell I had been this Jesus as well as I could tell who I was in High School... the metaphor actually works strongly, because I do not feel Jesus course through me, or speak to me...   I am myself.  Only my words on the page were meant to mean anything, and they did not fit the bill, because I did not know what I was talking about.

Sooner or later I will have to write about what I do know, and the tv shows, and the race war that came at me out of nowhere...though most of these are stories which would open gaping wounds in friend and foe alike.  I will be discreet.  Let some of my story be filled in fifty years from now, if humyns are still around.  That is worth PEACE.  I WANT NOW MORE THAN EVER PEACE...I WANT NOW MORE THAN EVER FINANCIAL JUSTICE FOR THE MASSES OF THIS PLANET....  I will not accept, in my mind, or my writing, the system that has been rigged up around me, will not be told I am in a prison and we split up by colors, so we never work together to beat out the guards.  The oldest game in the book of war -- try to get your enemies to fight one another, to weaken themselves, so you can walk in at the end and take control.  Some of you saw what you thought was me dividing and conquering when I wrote that you had to choose a side... and I meant the ninety nine percent and the one percent, in my ignorance... only to see there existed side after side.. many I would have been honored to have served with, though would have felt presumptious to try to order around.

I keep wanting to write about a night when the left me homeless.  Calling this a skit.  Thinking I was out in the city doing some strange, revolutionary performance... that would lead to a brand new world.   I ate a sandwich at a Boarders Bookstore, and the sandwich was cold and shitty, and so I threw it out of my mouth in front of a group, obviously watching me and discussing my behavior.   Early on the people were out in open, unencumbered to a degree to aproach me... but I was not leading the world, I was pissed and fightig.  The fight had been brought out in me and underestimated.  I had no intention on going along with people who I knew nothing about, after awhile, when I learned I COULD TRUST NO ONE...

I keep wanting to write of all the idle memories that come to me, knowing there are two audiences for my work, those who are involved in the affairs of which I write, and those who do not.  The CIA calls this distinguishen THE WITTING and THE UNWITTING.   People say they are awake but they really have no idea of the few secrets I was told, let alone all the horror stories they kept from me, since I was considered one of the moralistic voices.  They have their stone cold psychopaths for the jobs where they are suited.  I tried to be myself continuing to live my life even as I noted the signs on tv and messages from the radio and internet that some huge upheavels were taking place outside of my view.  I got my first glimpse into how large the second coming had become when I WROTE COME TO ME and every highway into Chicago jammed up.   I told them to go home, that we must do this by the internet.

I did not expect such a reaction.   I thought I was an obscure person who could pretty much get away with writing whatever the hell he wanted since he was giving it away for free, even though it was his profession...  THIS ASKEW view was reinforced by every cover personality around me, and lo and behold they came.  I told you at one point, you could bring people to roger's park to see me if you wished, that you must be democratic about this, not just allowing the rich.   One day a group all dressed in black took over the neighborhood.  I would see them all on my dogwalks.  I knew they all belonged to some part of an organization that I was affiliated with in some way...  I walked up to one of them, a young man with a very pained expression on his face, and said, How you DOING?   I often spoke to people at the park...

He looked at me with deep pain in his eyes, a bit of derision in his expression.  I could tell he knew things and had done things that hurt him....  I still had no idea what people were going thru as I sat in my relatively speaking young prince Buddhas palace before he learned there was suffering in the world outside their palace walls.  I later found out this group had been killing themselves... found out when I realized what they planned and told them, OH, NO, LIVE...  I DO NOT WANT YOU TO DIE.  I made sick jokes about over population in my youth, though I meant them no more than any other joke, in a certain context,.  Taking my statements out of context has killed more people than I will begin to count.  Another creaky dam holds back that pain.

















 I was not trying, generally, to send you messages.  I knew God existed and that in way made everything that was happening to me bearable in the end.  The image of his face comes to me when I need comfort, to leave myself and feel the immense distance from which still LOVE POURS thru us all, creates and motivates every cell in your body to LIVE for a moment, to feel happiness and joy...  we underestimate as always animals and plants.  They know a lot more than we think, we simply cannot talk to them, merely read what they write, in a way.