DNA...

Part III: “To Serve Man…”

There are more “Laws of Investigation” my investigator friend brought to my attention, and he began quoting them to me. “First, belief is the driver of action,” which bore repeating. He then seemingly digressed, saying that “the smallest chocolates are always the ones with the nuts.” And of course, a “law” I had come to understand, “fact is frequently stranger than fiction.”

Becoming increasingly more animated, my friend then said something that really made me think: “The lie is different at every level – and so it was, and so shall it always be, in this life anyway; from the highest Thrones, in this world, and now, here again, right down to the tiniest strands of DNA, it’s lies, lies, lies all the way down!”

My friend then cited “Pellegrino, Powell and Sir Isaac Asimov who penned the “Three Laws of Alien Behavior:”

Law No. 1

Their survival will be more important than our survival.

“If an alien species has to choose between them and us, they won’t choose us. It is difficult to imagine a contrary case; species don’t survive by being self-sacrificing.”

Law No. 2

Wimps don’t become top dogs.

“No species makes it to the top by being passive. The species in charge of any given planet will be highly intelligent, alert, aggressive, and ruthless when necessary.”

Law No. 3

“They” will assume that the first two laws apply to “us.”

And so my colleague continued. “My friend told me how his dizzying mental fall was eventually arrested by a very hard floor. In the mixed box of ‘investigator’s laws’ my friend calls ‘life’ —those three pastel-colored, candy-coated and chocolate-covered nuts can apparently(?) be some very hard pills to swallow.

He raised his voice: “Doug!” he shouted, rousing me like a freight train. “Doug, it hit me like the hard ground we’re standing on! It’s all around us—everywhere! They think of us like aliens, but they’re the aliens! Don’t you get it?! They’re laughing at us. They ‘THINK’ they’re the children of space aliens from another world, marooned on this tiny blue orb. They’re just doing time till they can figure a way off this rock so they can get back up to their Death-Star Moon Ship; figure out how to fix it and head back home to mommy!”

I sat there, listening as he continued to talk: “I looked at the heart-shaped Valentine’s box of chocolates I’d given my wife earlier in the week. Sure enough, when I opened it—she hadn’t eaten any yet, but she had humored me with a perfunctory ‘it’s the thought that counts’ and a peck on the cheek. I guess it’s some kinda high-brow, female, smarter-than-everyone-else, nonfat thing. Anyway, sure enough, there they were, the delightfully showcased evil omens—three large, pastel-colored, candy-coated and chocolate-covered nuts—just as my friend described! ‘Forewarned is forearmed;’ that’s what I say. I picked a safe, fat and round soft chocolate, or two, before I put the lid back on the box. I wasn’t ready to drink the Kool-Aid yet, but I also wasn’t shutting him down either.”

It’s all about the blood

He continued, “See, the way I see it, it’s all about the blood. They marry and intermarry to keep the alien blood pure. That’s why all the elites are in these incestuous royal cliques; they’re keeping it all in the family.” He then explained how he’d found that this guy and that girl were actually related to some other guy who wasn’t the guy we were all lied to about, who was so-and-so’s official father or mother. After awhile, it actually started to make some kinda sense—or maybe the blood sugar was just starting to kick in and make me a little tipsy. Anyway, “whatever,” I lazily thought to myself.

I stared off into space, deep in my hypoglycemically induced, contemplative thoughts. On the shelf beside the TV in my den, an old VHS video box sat, its title staring back at me, I was a Zombie for the FBI. It’s a campy ’80s black and white “B” movie some college kids made about some brothers who discovered sunglasses that, when worn, allowed them to see aliens masquerading as humans and plotting to destroy the real humans and take over the earth. A more well-known movie version is They Live. As I adjusted my reading glasses, I had a few new thoughts of my own: “What if. . .” “What IF?”

Then, rousing me again out of my darkness with his now booming voice, my investigator friend said “IT!” And then he said “IT” again, more slowly and decisively. And just then, “IT” struck me! “IT” struck me like a silver bullet to my politically incorrect brain! The haze half cleared, and for a long moment I realized exactly what he’d been trying to say all along. The clouding scales began to fall from my eyes also, just as they had for our subject in his NDE! I briefly wondered whether I was I on the verge of my own diabetic-induced coma. Perhaps like our original subject, maybe I was having an NDE of my own!

Belief REALLY IS the driver of action

I reached for the water on the table beside me, but it was actually the grandkids’ Kool-Aid. I drank it anyway as I thought to myself, “It doesn’t really matter what I believe! It doesn’t matter what the lying ‘facts’ say! It doesn’t matter what any technical analysis reveals! It doesn’t even matter what the religious sages thought or believe!

It only matters what “THEY” believe, because our original subject and his relatives—who are kings, queens, princes and princesses as well as leaders of industry and banking worldwide—believe and act as though they are children of an other-worldly race of “humanoid beings,” but not human only…hybrid human…more than human…superior alien/humans!

Our subject and his kin had been taught by their families and tutors that once upon a time, “their” ancestors had fallen to earth after some cosmic calamity in the time before the Garden. He believed that while their “Ancestral Mother” was Eve, their “Ancestral Father” was not Adam! THEY BELIEVE that they are our “humanoid cousins,” superior hybrids, part alien and only part human. They once reined from Olympus and were pharaohs. Whatever the real truth of their history, their “belief” is the driver of their actions! Being the “true believers” they are, they will continue to operate in accordance with their belief and the laws of alien/Darwinian-type survival. That’s why they interbreed, passing the garter in order, from one bridesmaid to the next to maintain the purity of the bloodline. That’s why they secretly meet and connive, continuing to pass power between themselves. That’s why they must manage the rest of mankind, fooling them into focusing their life energy and ingenuity on wars of self-destruction and debt, so that we may be forever enslaved to their lusts on this “prison planet,” ’til death do us part. More than afraid, they know in their black hearts this is their fight for survival. THE fight for survival!

It had begun, just as my friend had said, as a “Murder Investigation,” starting with the first murder when that luciferian demon dad had first whispered the evil deed to his willing child, Cain! It has since continued down through time with Atlantean devolutions. And God, wiping them off the earth in the days of Noah and the sons of Adam repeatedly fighting for their own survival, by destroying the aged, reptilian cross-bred giants in Canaanland… and later, David destroying the hybrid Goliath and his four hybrid brothers. And now, as in the days of Noah, the hidden giants, the true believers—hiding in plain sight, so powerful, so important, and so, so afraid.

I was reminded how in the mountains of Afghanistan the people will say their cousin lives on the other side of that mountain then, in the next breath, remind you that the word for cousin is interchangeably the same word meaning “enemy.”

Interchangeably? These earthbound, half -cousins of ours continue to laugh, but it is a nervous laugh at that! They have a joke or two at our expense, re-creating their lying father’s “fall to earth” and flashing their heretofore secret gang sign/hand signals to each other right in our face. I know now how dangerous their beliefs are, and I know that they are being driven by their beliefs, taught to them by their real father, the father of lies. And even now he knows “the truth” and whispers in his initiates’ ears just as he first did in Cain’s ear: The “Sons of Adam,” as long as they live, are dangerous.

Just then my friend began to cite another law, stating, “And when you’re finally out of chocolates, it’s time to make stew!”

I begged his indulgence for a few minutes as I wandered down the hall to the restroom. I was wondering to myself, “Where did I leave my ladder? I gotta get outta this rabbit’s hole before the bad guys figure out there’s no rabbits for the rabbit stew they’re dreaming of for their caldron. They might decide to change cookbooks to suit whatever else they might find.”

“Ummm, yes. There it is,” I thought. They’d thought. . .”To Serve Man.”