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Unaware and Misinformed–Exactly How They Like Us

UNAWARE AND MISINFORMED – EXACTLY HOW THEY LIKE US

I should start this out with a disclaimer. I worked as a financial planner and stock broker for 25 years and really didn’t begin to grasp the true mechanics of the financial system until nearly 10 years in. It took even longer for the magnitude of the crony capitalist corruption to sink in. I was indoctrinated by book and exam, scored extremely high in the various licensing and accreditation examinations (meaning I had fully swallowed my programming) and successfully parroted what I had learned.

It was only when the stink from the long dead skunk in the woodpile became overwhelming and could no longer be ignored did I begin to probe and seriously question both the financial ‘authorities’, the prevailing financial meme and myself. So when I come across others who are following the same path while blindfolded I am not casting stones. Instead, I am illustrating how we are all deeply immersed in many alternative reality memes even as I focus on this one in particular.

That said, let me begin.

I walked into a branch of ‘my’ bank the other day to make a deposit. It was mid afternoon and clearly a slow period for the bank because there were four tellers available and not another ‘customer’ in sight. Proving to all I was well trained and obedient, I followed the velvet and gold rope lined customer cattle chute and waited passively at the head of the ‘line’ to be summoned.

Thankfully the wait was not long.

The teller (Anna) greeted me pleasantly (obviously grateful for the distraction I afforded her) and asked how she could be of assistance. Stating my purpose, I plopped down my fake fiat and promptly engaged her in small talk. Having worked in the main branch of a bank as the resident financial planner (aka financial product salesman) for nearly ten years, I fully understand how monotonous the teller position can be at times.

 

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Assessing Blame and the Victim Mentality

Its You - Final

Once we have traveled a path enough times, we remember the sequence of turns and specific landmarks more than the individual trees, houses or businesses on our route. As we travel down a familiar road, on a barely conscious level we tick off the various items that mark our progression towards our destination.

This cognitive shortcut allows us to devote brainpower to other pursuits while placing the driving/navigating on autopilot. This is precisely why the majority of accidents occur within thirty miles of home. Our attention level is greatly reduced while the normal hazards of driving are not.

Something remarkably similar is happening with regard to America in particular and the western world in general. From birth we are trained and conditioned to believe certain ‘facts’ and myths about our world as well as the processes we are to follow in order to navigate its various hazards, hurtles and pathways. At various stages we relegate select routes and practices to autopilot, thinking ‘OK, I’ve got that covered”.

In short, much of ‘life’ soon becomes routine and comfortably familiar (not threatening is a more accurate classification) and is quickly pushed to the cognitive background bearing the label ‘non essential’ and ‘already known’. The quickest and most effective cognitive method used to do so is to ‘label’ something, thereby associating it with preconceived and categorized known knowns’.

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Rogue Wave

Rogue Wave

It is the stuff of legends and lore dating back through all of recorded history, of sinking ships and sea monsters, of tall tales and tragic deaths. The problem was obvious; any credible witness to a rogue wave usually didn’t survive the rogue wave, thereby relegating the actual phenomenon to the looney tunes category by the so-called ‘experts’.

In an authoritarian culture only the authorities can declare something ‘real’ regardless of how much evidence has been previously offered. It took an actual ‘scientific’ measurement in the North Sea off Norway on New Year’s Day, 1995 aboard the Draupner platform to convince the scientists (aka the authorities) there really was such a thing as a rogue wave.

The charted output of that instrumented event, described as the Draupner wave, is seen below and clearly indicates an extreme aberration, a bolt of lightning out of the blue if you will, a single wave easily twice the average height of the largest waves and three to four times the average height of the smallest.

Draupner Wave Graph - Final

Measured from the trough to crest, the Draupner Wave was nearly 25 meters/84 feet tall.

Since the impact force of a wave is an exponential function of its height, you can clearly understand why no modern ship is designed to survive a direct hit from a wave of this magnitude. 15 meter/49 foot waves from trough to crest is the current design standard, while the Draupner was nearly 25m/82ft tall, thus the reason for rarity of eye witnesses to these events. The only reason the measuring device, an on-board laser, survived to tell the tale was because it was secured to a gas pipeline platform anchored to the sea bottom and suspended above this monster wave.

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A Failure of Imagination

A Failure of Imagination

Simply stated we create our own reality……although it is a ‘reality’ strictly limited to the range and scope of our beliefs and imagination. Thus if we can conceive of a world no different than what we believe actually exists, which in turn is based solely upon our present day (deliberately) limited perception, then this is exactly what we shall (co)create, maintain and interact with.

This concept is staggering in its simplicity and self evident when we consider it from all sides and with an open mind. Of course, it follows then that those of limited imagination, either by way of training, conditioning, ignorance or denial, will see my statement as nonsensical and ridiculous, thus perpetuating their (and our) own narrow, stagnant and self destructive reality.

It is my contention we are all conceived as perfect reality creators, though not yet fully formed and completely untrained, who are hijacked and sidetracked into a slave culture reality designed to serve others and not our ‘selves’. This process has so twisted our natural human impulse for free and unique reality creation the end result expresses as individual and collective insanity. Sadly, tragically, we are all terribly insane and getting worse by the moment.

Ultimately this deeply implanted and completely alien subversion of our mind, spirit and body acts as a lingering virus or infection which, while not deadly (yet), is extremely debilitating and exhausting. This serves to further reinforce the inner insanity while also undermining defensive devices employed by our inner ‘self’ in order to recover from what we subconsciously ‘know’ deep within is an externally applied alien abomination.

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You Are Free, Like It Or Not

You Are Free, Like It Or Not

One evening I went with my family to a Thai restaurant for dinner. They seated us near the back, not far from the kitchen doors.

A very bubbly waitress brought us our menus, filled our waters and told us to let her know if we needed anything, or had any questions about anything at all.

When she came back, we ordered. “Perfect!” she said with a huge smile, taking our menus. She went off to the kitchen. As soon as she was through the doors, her voice changed. She was chatting with the staff and we could hear every word.

“Oh my God, I was so sick this morning! I couldn’t stop puking. My boyfriend had to hold my hair back for me.” She went on about the trip to bar, the shooters, the cab ride, the stupid friends who didn’t show up. Lots of details and swear words.

Then she came through the doors again, her waitress face back on, and took orders from a few more tables. She went back into the kitchen again. More profane banter. When she brought out our food, she had a wide, wholesome smile, and it was really hard not to laugh.

I didn’t know it at the time, but Jean-Paul Sartre had written about a similar scenario to illustrate a human tendency he calledbad faith. His waiter at a cafe seemed to be completely under the spell of his role as a server. He moved too quickly, too snappily. He spoke about the daily specials with an enthusiasm that no food could warrant in real life. His gestures were so ridiculously waiterly that he seemed to have lost track of the fact that he was a free-choosing person, as if there was nothing to him besides his current role.

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TIGHTEN THOSE CHIN STRAPS FOLKS BECAUSE HERE COMES A RAPID UNSCHEDULED DISASSEMBLY (RUD)

TIGHTEN THOSE CHIN STRAPS FOLKS BECAUSE HERE COMES A RAPID UNSCHEDULED DISASSEMBLY (RUD)

Please stick with this piece dear reader for it does not end on the same path from which it starts.

Being a child of the 50’s and 60’s, it comes as no surprise to anyone from that era that I’m a bit of a space buff. From the moment I saw my first televised rocket launch I was hooked and have never fully recovered from my childhood obsession. Beginning withProject Mercury and the suborbital flight of Alan Shepard in 1961, followed shortly by the three orbits of John Glenn, then progressing through Project Gemini where America practiced the space skills needed to eventually land on the moon and culminating with the Apollo Program and (supposedly) several trips to the moon, one thing they all had in common was the seriousness of everyone involved. Going to space was serious business performed by serious people. There was no joking around because failure wasn’t an option.

Who can forget the early years watching stern (mostly baby faced) engineers hunched over their monitors at the Launch Control Center in Cape Canaveral (Kennedy) and Mission Control in Houston, nearly all wearing the standard dress uniform of white short-sleeve shirt with tie along with the mandatory plastic pocket protector, headsets firmly affixed to one ear while the other was left open to hear those around them.

There were always several huge loose leaf binders at their side, dog-eared and well thumbed, complete with handwritten notations and addendums. And of course, endlessly pacing the back of the room or moving from one monitoring station to another, there was the Mission Director riding herd over his minions. There was no doubt by anyone in that room who the man in charge was and where the buck stopped.

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Olduvai IV: Courage
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Olduvai II: Exodus
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