THE MODERN MYTH OF EVOLUTION : DNA AS ALIEN NANO-TECH

DNA AS ALIEN NANO-TECH : DARWIN COULD NOT IMAGINE ALIENS

by Paul Schroeder

God is responsible for the spiritual entities within our bodies, and there’s a harsh truth to face : aliens are the most likely candidates for the geniuses behind the amazing nanotech DNA which designs our life form physical bodies; there is no argument required.
The alien silhouette fingerprints, within our DNA, point to evidence that we were not ordained to this planet, by God, but by aliens , a newly revealed history and destiny for us, in this universe.
God, is true enough, but the O.T. Bible as a touchstone of “HIM”, with its myths and tales has no place in this DNA amended raised human consciousness, for cruel and deceptive reptilian aliens masqueraded as God, in ancient times.
The moon, much evidence suggests, was purposefully placed, on this reptilian preserve so as to minimize extremes in what-we-call- Earth’s climate, and seems to have actually been an ancient alien “craft”, now used as a base to ‘harvest’ and ‘trade’ humans, their seed and embryos, throughout the galaxy.
This ‘truth’ ,is down a long hall and somewhere else, far from what one might otherwise surmise..
The full truth is out there, and that is that we are not, nor have we ever been, the top of the food-chain.
These best games-keepers never let we animals within, suspect that Earth is , a preserve.

Biblical ‘dietary laws’ now reveal its owners’ tactics and true purposes, to harvest physically and spiritually, a better tasting and safer to eat harvest of humanity.After this horrid alien realization, any informed UFO researcher, must needs then become a vegetarian, for any moral and philosophical traction..
God, when not sabotaged by demonic or alien theft and recycling of life forces, imbues all physical DNA contrived sentient life with sparks of His spirit.
There are, however, many predominant planets whose entire intelligent life forms are spiritual entities,  and no physical DNA is required to house their spirit beings.
Our physical world is, amazingly, an anomaly, by virtue of the sheer numbers of many such non-corporeal worlds, by comparison.
Does human DNA reflect a computer code, of proteins and time-release enzymes, an alien nano-tech, and thus a no longer hidden fingerprint, of our “Creator”?
Scientists have found that our genetic code has all of these key computer code elements.
“The coding regions of DNA,” expostulates Dr. Stephen Meyer, “have exactly the same relevant properties as a computer code or language” (quoted by Strobel, p. 237, The Case for a Creator, 2004)
“Whose mind or what entity could shrink and miniaturize such information and place our DNA’s enormous number of ‘letters’ in their correct sequence as a genetic building block instruction manual?
Could evolution in itself have progressively come up with a nano-tech system like this?
It is difficult to fathom, but the quantum of information in our human DNA is roughly comparably equal to 12 sets of The Encyclopedia Britannica-an amazing 384 volumes worth of detailed data that would fill 48 feet long of required library shelves .”
“Yet in their precise size-only two millionths of a millimeter thick-a teaspoon of DNA, according to molecular biologist Michael Denton, has “all the information needed to build the proteins for all the species of organisms that have ever lived on the earth, and there would still be enough room left for all the information in every book ever written” (Evolution: A Theory in Crisis, 1996, p. 334).
                           Intelligent Design of our Human DNA
As scientists began to unravel and decode the human DNA molecule, they found something amazingly unexpected : a computer programmer’s exquisite ‘language’ composed of some 3 billion genetic letters.
“One of the most extraordinary discoveries of the twentieth century,” says Dr. Stephen Meyer, director of the Center for Science and Culture at the Discovery Institute in Seattle, Wash., “was that DNA actually stores information-the detailed instructions for assembling proteins-in the form of a four-character digital code” (quoted by Lee Strobel, The Case for a Creator, 2004, p. 224).
As George Williams explains it: “The gene is a package of information, not an object. The pattern of base pairs in a DNA molecule specifies the gene.
But the DNA molecule is the medium, it’s not the message”
(quoted by Johnson, p. 70).
  Design from an intelligent source
To any discerning mind, this type of nano-tech high-level information originates only from a technologically advanced intelligent source.
As Lee Strobel explains: “The data at the core of life is not disorganized, it’s not simply orderly like salt crystals, but it’s complex and specific information that can accomplish a bewildering task-the building of biological machines that far outstrip human technological capabilities” (p. 244).
“For example, the precise nature of this genetic language is such that the average error that is not caught turns out to be one error per 10 billion letters.
If an error occurs in one of the most important parts of the code, in the genes, it causes diseases such as sickle-cell anemia. Yet even the best and most apt typist in the world couldn’t come close to making only one mistake per 10 billion letters-far from it.”
Michael Behe, a biochemist and professor at Pennsylvania’s Lehigh University, explains that DNA genetic data is primarily an instruction manual.
He reasons: “Consider a step-by-step list of [genetic] instructions. A mutation is a change in one of the lines of instructions.
So instead of saying, “Take a 1/4-inch nut,” a mutation might say, “Take a 3/8-inch nut.” Or instead of “Place the round peg in the round hole,” we might get “Place the round peg in the square hole” . . .
What a mutation cannot do is change all the instructions in one step-say, [providing instructions] to build a fax machine instead of a radio”.
(Darwin’s Black Box, 1996, p. 41).
We therefore have, in our human genetic code, a complex instruction manual eloquently designed by a more highly intelligent source than even the genius of human beings.
The God agnostic and recently deceased Francis Crick, one of the discoverers of DNA, after decades of work deciphering it, admitted that:
“an honest man, armed with all the knowledge available to us now, could only state that in some sense, the origin of life appears at the moment to be almost a miracle, so many are the conditions which would have had to have been satisfied to get it going” .
(Life Itself, 1981, p. 88, emphasis added).
Dean Kenyon, a biology professor who repudiated his earlier book on Darwinian evolution-because of discoveries of information found in DNA-states:
 “This new realm of molecular genetics (is) where we see the most compelling evidence of design on the Earth” (ibid., p. 221).
As well, one of the world’s most famous atheists, Professor Antony Flew, admitted that he couldn’t explain how DNA was created and developed through evolution.
He now sees the demanding need for an intelligent source to have been involved in the making of our human DNA code.
“What I think the DNA material has done is show that intelligence must have been involved in getting these extraordinary diverse elements together,” he said (quoted by Richard Ostling, “Leading Atheist Now Believes in God,” Associated Press report, Dec. 9, 2004).
” I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made . .”
 Written some thousands of years ago, King David’s words about our alien constructed human bodies seems most true.
He wrote: “For You formed my inward parts, You covered me in my mother’s womb.
I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made . . . My frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought. . .” (Psalm 139:13-15, ).
Where does all this deposit the theory of evolution?
Michael Denton, an agnostic scientist, concludes:
“Ultimately the Darwinian theory of evolution is no more nor less than the great cosmogenic myth of the twentieth century” (Denton, p. 358).
Thus we are left like a precipitate out of a solution with an astounding Creator nano-tech design that every life-form on Earth carries,” a similar and related genetic code programmned by our extraterrestrial maker and that evolution is hardly what we deduce that it is it .”
This discovery shall shake our roots of humanity and confirm or deny our beliefs, both in our concept of a Creator as well as in our own concept of our destiny.
Within this  paradigm, all forms of life farmed throughout the Universe can be seen as an enormous molecular nanotech creation by a intelligent Creator using amino acid thoughts, expressed mathematically.
Crick, DNA’s discoverer, perhaps, said it best:
“Life did not evolve first on Earth, a highly advanced civilization became threatened so they devised a way to pass on their existence.”
“They genetically-modified their DNA and sent it out from their planet on bacteria or meteorites with the hope that it would collide with another planet. It did, and that’s why we’re here.”
“The DNA molecule is the most efficient information storage system in the entire universe.
The immensity of complex, coded and precisely sequenced information is absolutely staggering. “
“The DNA evidence speaks of intelligent, information-bearing design.
Complex DNA coding would have been necessary for even the hypothetical first ‘so-called’ simple cell(s).
Our DNA was encoded with messages from that other civilization.”
“They programmed the molecules so that when we reached a certain level of intelligence, we would be able to access their information, and they could therefore “teach” us about ourselves, and how to progress. For life to form by chance is mathematically virtually impossible.”
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BAD LUCK ISN’T BAD KARMA

“IF I DIDN’T HAVE BAD LUCK, I WOULDN’T HAVE NO LUCK AT ALL”

By 

(Author’s note:  the title is  from a Rodney Dangerfield routine..)

*******
You have certainly heard it said, that in our lives’ destinies, “All IS WRITTEN”? 

According to  reputable and gifted psychics, our lives are carefully planned by our spirits, beforehand, that we assemble spirit helpers and spirit guides, in Heaven,  to accompany us, long  before we jump into another womb’s prenatal body,  for yet another lifetime.

Life,  they assure us, is a series of pre-programmed events staged with proscribed boons and travails, specifically designed to grow us spiritually closer towards God, a God who gives us myriad  incarnations, to hone and perfect us.

Earth is our ‘school’.

Even a ‘deja vu’, a moment haunting in its odd feeling, that we’ve ‘ been ‘there’, before’,   psychics say, is precisely such a specially pre-inserted moment, in our blueprint,  a small  odd- feeling- ‘bump’, in time, designed to remind us, unconsciously, that we are assessed perfectly aligned, with our  pre-planned spiritual lessons, in that moment.

How, then, is one to understand spates of bad luck, that stubbornly seem to follow one throughout?

For some of us, and that includes me, day after day, week after week, awful little and large things happen in  doses that nag at us, and seem to resist  greater meaning.

The title’s male comedian, once complained:

“I have the worst luck all of the time; I have no luck at all.

If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have no luck at all!”:
I miss buses and oversleep appointments lose my wallet and keys, stub my toes,  step in dog poo and bang my head underneath cabinets.

“Just yesterday, I woke up, got dressed, and a button fell off; I  reached for a closet door and the knob came off!

I grabbed my suitcase, and the handle came off;…

I was afraid,… to go to the bathroom!…”

 

If  it’s true, that “all is written”, how does one explain annoying and troubling
‘nothing is going right’ periods, that persist?

Many gifted psychics, privately affirm that since  ,’all IS written’, awful bad luck events happen, by no  accidents; aligned with spirit, bad luck, in a continuous line, is commonly backstage- orchestrated.


Large and small bad luck occurrences will happen everywhere, all at once, in one’s life, as a spiritual “sign”, an alert that one is sadly far from one’s prearranged spiritual path.

When one has strayed too far away from one’s Heavenly, towards God,  pre-planned ‘blueprint’, self delineated in intricate fashion,  bad luck will stubbornly continue to manifest.

Then, It’s no coincidence that you lost your wallet, spilled the coffee on the computer keyboard, stepped on the cat, had a bathroom pipe leak down onto the kitchen ceiling, got a flat tire and missed the train and that was only Tuesday!

“Nothing is going right!”, life malfunctions, reveal that something else LARGER at stake, down a long hallway, and somewhere else behind our ‘curtains’, is ALSO not right.


Bad luck in series, is the tyrannical effort of Heaven, specifically,
our spirit guides and spirit helpers, who are more than  just trying to get our attention.

I can actually, at this point hear the known cynics and pernicious doubters yet again exclaim,”Your thesis, to me, personally, is just nonsense!”

What about those people who have one good luck event, after another good luck event follow them?

When one is on one’s correct preplanned blueprint’s spiritual path, ‘everything just seems to go right’?

Yes.

If we are progressing correctly, according to “plan”, then all of the little confluences and connections in our life begin to seem to work, and series of fortuitous coincidences occur like perfect magic:

We catch the bus, right on time, we meet that person we were hoping to see, we gain hope and guidance automatically, from kind strangers,  we find that misplaced thing we searched for, garner the needed finances that we sought ;

wonderful coincidences gather like flies at our mustaches.

Only when one is much too far from one’s self-set goals, does all Hell seem to break loose, everywhere and all at once, repeatedly.



Chronic and persistent ‘bad luck’ isn’t the ‘disease’ itself, but is instead an emergent ‘symptom’, of a disease.

But, can it be all that simple?

After learning this, minor constant misfortunes that never seem to end, rather than blindly depress you, will enlighten and cheer you, because it confirms that our path, is indeed a pre-planned path, and that, “Yes, Virginia, there really IS a Santa Claus,”

on ‘stage’, and ‘behind our curtains’.

Consistent negative synchronicities, are messages and bad luck events, now alert us that we are NOT up on our spiritual ‘toes’.

Ask oneself:

Am I being helpful to others or self-consumed and impish?

Am I forgiving, or nurturing grudges?

Am I consoling someone who needs consoling or am I, not wanting to ‘engage’,  avoiding them?

Am I offering charity to someone in need, or cautiously sidestepping involvement?

Am I being supportive or judgmental?

Am I being loving or impatient?

The cessation of bad luck troubles, relies and depends on one’s spiritual shift- of -perspective, a recognition that will appeal to your spirit helpers and spirit guides.

Be calm.

Listen to something emotionally releasing, like taped wholesome standup comedy; laughing can reset brain chemical imbalances from angst and is a wholesome therapy, instrumental in stopping deepening fugue, about persistent bad luck events..

Large doses of laughter can jump start and stir the cheer of one’s lagging soul .


Essentially, one must recognize those backstage  spiritual influences; a prayer for guidance and enlightenment is now tantamount.

Pray, IN THANKS to your spirit helpers and angels, who do a mostly thankless job, most often, and then, ask them for spiritual assistance.

Prayer, to be put back on the ‘right path’  will suffice, and  then all at once, as though in answer, the confluent series of ‘ bad luck’ events will suddenly abate.

Then, be sure to react with love to the situations that next present themselves, to you.

“Why me?!” is always the wrong question.

“Why NOW?” is more apt.

Bad luck in a series of repeated events means that
we have missed the inner signposts of mercy and patience and forgiveness and are indeed far from our set spiritual goals at that moment in time.

Series of bad luck incidents in our lives are NO accidents .

“All is written” may sound facile and glib, but one’s spirit helpers can and will reach from behind the curtains of Heaven and appear almost tyrannical, as they attempt to fast turn one into another direction, like adjusting a human skillet frying pan by grabbing one roughly, by the handle…..

For we are not humans having spiritual experiences, but spirits, having human experiences.

“Bad karma”,  emanates from spite, jealousy, anger, revenge, theft, greed and manifests in ‘unfinished spiritual lessons’ scenarios around those themes, throughout future incarnations.

THAT , is ‘bad karma’…

But, how to quickly end spates of bad luck incidents?

Prayer, with feelings only of gratitude, strongly helps to bring a message for the cessation of travails, until one’s head is re-screwed on, properly, to extend love, in all endeavors, to others..

I think we consider too much the good luck of the early bird and not enough the bad luck of the early worm

*******

GHOST RESCUE

GHOST RESCUE

By Paul Schroeder
 
(Copyright 2016, Paul Schroeder – All Rights Reserved)
<Edited by Robert D. Morningstar>
*******
Sometimes, after abductions, the inter-dimensional door, left open, invites in the “gangster fringe” element of the spirit world.
I have heard astonishing things most unverifiable about Heaven, from ribald odd psychic mediums:
Too heavy smokers retain visibly black lungs, the vain- cosmetic- surgery- addicted, sport disfigured countenances, those too rich, ornate and gaudy, appear homely and threadbare.
According to some psychics, there is an inverse relationship between our aspects, after death, in transition, in an astral world, that mirrors and reflect our damages, foolishness and wrong values, from one’s  life most recently departed.
Who could foresee or imagine such instant spiritually blatant karma-ricochets ?
To skeptics or to the religiously programmed, I assert that the theory that consciousness ends with physical death, has never been proved, to me.
If one examines diverse spiritual phenomena: demonic possession, OBEs, NDEs, hauntings, poltergeists, reincarnation memories through regressive hypnosis, just to mention a few, the undeniable evidence of a spiritual reality looms as obvious as a trout in the milk.
We should all be born with lunch boxes for our stay here, in this school, is short, compared to the eternal spark of God within us that endures.
We step out of our body when we physically die , just as we do step out of our cars and our clothing, and we are no more our bodies than we are our cars or clothing.
Psychics and mediums well know this.
Our spirits, if not stolen by demons or reptilian aliens, or stuck, Earthbound,  move on to one of the very many varied realms of Heaven.

Spirits in beginning transition,  vulnerable to being stolen by reptilian aliens to be recycled, or garnered by demons who collect souls like children do marbles, will often  linger to stay close to us.
Since only our ‘clothing’, or our body’s external shell is buried,
visiting a cemetery is moot, because the loving spirits of our dead  travel with us there, and return from there, with us.
But, Earthbound sinister dark souls, and inhuman diabolical spirits, will persist within cemeteries.
Pregnant mothers are restricted from attending cemeteries by many religions, to offer protection to the unborn, from  opportunistic sinister spirits.
Certain minerals in stones, such as ferrous, jasper, tourmaline and quartz,  carried by some sensitives, can assist, and
can act as a deterrent.
I have also gleaned that The “LIGHT”, into which we enter, to ‘cross over’, at physical death, is not outward and external, but emanates from WITHIN us, at death, a detail overlooked and  unrecognized .
But, what about trapped ghosts?
 In our natural spirit state we are ghosts:
fogs of electromagnetic energy , with memory and a sense of identity.
Ghost-hunters need a glimmer  that spirits who they document,  SHOULD BE rescued; this lack of moral recognition, risks  “depraved indifference”, a  moral crime.
Circus or rodeo’s audiences applause,  watching  abused animals hard- beaten- perform postures unnatural to their natures , is  similarly a ‘depraved indifference’.
Circus and rodeo  lovers, like ghost-  hunters, return to their cars to  leave a chunk of their spiritual evolution, behind..
We get a sure ride to Earth, from Heaven, at birth, but no guarantees for a safe return trip home.
When my psychic prowess began to sputter on, I initially was aware of so many ghosts afoot everywhere, that it made me doubt Heaven’s very existence.
Some human spirits  trapped on this plane, oddly become somewhat animalistic,
Earthbound and lost.
1957 - Year of the Cock <br /> Computer Generated Phot... <br /> Manimals <br /> 1993 <br />
1946 - Year... <br /> Computer Ge... <br /> Manimals <br /> 1993 <br />
Trapped human spirits are ‘provoked’ by ghost-hunters to elicit evidences, and are  seen as sport, like an animal abused at a rodeo or circuses.
With ghosts, it’s the chrysalis that never emerges, the cocoon frozen and dead,  a human spirit lost in anguish between life and death,
God’s promise gone unkept,
the return dream to Heaven, deferred..
How and when did I learn that an unseen world exists all around us?
Picture - A Buddhist and Hindu temple Wat Rong Khun in Chiang Rai, Thailand  Also known as the White Temple  It was designed by Chalermchai Kositpipat. Fotosearch - Search Stock Photography, Photos, Prints, Images, and Photo Clipart
It blossomed
The feeling of unseen human hands and their undeniable touches on my arms, back and shoulders, with concurrent accompanying psychic disturbances  increased.
At restaurants, often a warm, heavy hand resides on my shoulder, for a moment, with no one observable, behind me, friendly but unsettling encounters.
I  feel symptoms of a dark one, a lost soul/ ghost, who jumps on me, and an energy connection is felt, in that my skin burns and buzzes where I am  touched and connection are made..
Sometimes that awareness crashes crystal clear:
Medusa HeadI recently had a very “odd in- your- face” encounter with a“Shadow Person.”

Sitting at my computer, writing long into the wee hours, the screen’s glow the only illumination in the room, I slowly became aware of a gradual peripheral movement alongside my right cheek, that moved forward into view, to emerge directly facing me.

A black silhouette of a face, illuminated by the neon glow of the computer screen, a side view of a profile of a slim young man, emerged which then quickly turned, to face me straight on.
A full second before I loudly exclaimed and shouted, an involuntary reaction, I could see a slim, thin human face darker than the room’s darkness, fully facing me.
As I have purposefully unlearned fear, the shout was instinctive and only awe surfaced.
But it was a “Shadow Person” up close and intimate.
At one time, in order to block these experiences, knowing that some medications did change brain chemistry to the extent,  to simply put one beyond the reach of such creatures, I tried antihistamines and did indeed manage to stop it all, temporarily.
 I had read that on the Internet and just wanting to feel normal, again, tried it on myself.
I don’t know how it works but it works … temporarily.
But, one can’t live on Benedryll.
Other medications have specifically been developed for people who are troubled by ‘seeing things’, ‘hearing things’ and ‘feeling things’ and these were
pharmacological designed because modern medicine makes no differentiation, no distinctions between spiritual dysfunctions and psychological dysfunctions.
A modern clinician  unversed in such spiritual truths, perceives a child patient who experiences these phenomena as more psychotic than  psychic, certainly not ever a young ‘sensitive’, who has not yet learned how, but must, to  close his energies, to such entities…
I was told by others early on that what I was going through was a blessing.   I did not accept that at the time.
  It has been a tough learning experience for both me and the unseen world.
I once advised a spirit whose hand rested heavily on my right shoulder -I could feel the weight and span of fingers- to “cross over to the other side”-  meaning that other dimension that we all come from and go to, ‘Heaven’.
  After just a few seconds, it obliged my request, by crossing over to my left side, and  good naturedly resting its hand, THERE, on my shoulder..
I deduced that rather than having a rarefied sense of humor,  it likely had no idea whatsoever, what I was referring to…
Another major problem for psychic sensitives, is that of all the spiritual energies, unseen, out there, many are NOT human; some are reptilian alien.
When a demon or juvenile reptilian cruises in, for what turns out to be an extended visit, an onset of the most awful nightmares, unlike any one can imagine, vivid and terrifying, ensue.
Such brilliant diabolical entities refuse rescue and delight in tormenting humans; nothing else except unholy ones could do such violence to mere dreams.
Scary blood with an evil halloween vampire character splattered and dripping on a white background as a spooky symbol of danger and fear as paranormal fantasy icon  Stock Photo - 21743139
During such sieges, in spiritual crises, I have had to neatly discard any classic pedestrian Freudian or Jungian explanations as misguided and moot, and instead  to seek metaphysical approaches that do, after a fashion, work.
In self defense,  with heightened empathy for an energy who jumps upon me, I counsel with love and compassion, as one would a lost traveler or lost child.  It could well be you, or me, so lost.
I used to dismiss an unseen touch as though it were a fly at my mustache, or treat it with the disgust or shock that a ghost often elicits.
Then I tried to openly complain to the spirit, that phantoms DO-  fill -the- air – around us, and that although we all come from God, one way or another, some of us  fight  hard,  to return to God.
I relay this to the unseen intelligence touching me, with a lack of fear and with  pathos, as much sympathy as I can muster.
All the while, I am fully aware that it could likely be psychically dangerous, as deeply disturbed as it had been, in its body.
If it ever HAD a body..
If it’s “sticky”, and persistent , I surround myself in a three-feet-around-me violet cloud of love, to dissuade it, in a fashion..
The worst, most predatory and harmful negative energies ‘out there’, for a sensitive to sense, are juvenile reptilians and small dark grey aliens.
They come on like gang-busters,  insistently stubborn and ‘hungry’ for my energies.
When such  painful burning touches apprise me that connections between my energies and dark energies are continuing,  a spritz of incensed holy water mixed with tea tree and camphor essential oils from a plant misting bottle clears the attachment feeling and the onset of mild psychic attack.
I tell spirits who touch me more gently, them that it’s sad and  ironic that God has sent them to me for help,  for I myself, spiritually, am  so often  helplessly lost.
I  tell them that touching people for energy, stealing energy from people,  traps them here, between worlds, where they are subject to bullying or worse, theft, by astral – fierce-predators, afoot.
I ask them to reach higher into their own dimension,  to  ask for angelic help as I do the same, in mine.
 I remind them that since they didn’t die when they left their body, that they cannot  die, and insist that they not steal human energy; humans look  like bright porch lights to them.
Some do not listen, because they still feel so, ‘alive’, though not in their physical body.
The retort I have more than once heard in my skull was:
“How do I know, that YOU’RE not dead!?”
Some, however, do listen.
I ask   rescue beings of light to work to bring  a neighbor, a lover, a child, a former pet, a parent, a friend, a schoolmate, ANYONE, SOMEONE whom they can trust, to bring them over, to the Other Side.
I try not to surround them in a white light , for negative-thought-beings can feast on white light, which is why they go initially quiescent, only to come on, again, later,  like gang-busters.
Visualized purple light, used for self-defense, can also  ‘wash off and cleanse’ the external blackness surrounding a dark spirit, who is half- willing to be rescued.
Such a ‘wash’ of purple light onto such  creatures couched in blackness, always soon reveals a tiny, faint pearl- like light within the dark one,  my proof to it, of God’s creation of it.
Then, ONLY THEN,  bereft of its outer shell of darkness,  and meanness will I send it into a tower of white light, which contains the hidden full color spectrum with gradations of each color  a different dimension of (earned) Heaven.
Some dark spirits can only freely go into red light, or orange light, to find their rightful place, towards their next perfection; all varied colored spiritual destinations, not unlike a rainbow, are contained  hidden within white light.
However, this cleansing and rescue is best and more safely done within a circle of minds, with a psychic-medium also in attendance.
  Creative metaphysics, towards rescues, using just one human mind can be dangerous  as some entities/energies out there, are quite amazingly nasty, brilliant and diabolical.
Self-defense evolved into a changed outlook:
I pray FOR them, instead of for my relief FROM them.
It raises their vibrations and moves them out of the darkness and is appreciated by them and by others, and is considered,”service to the other side’.
I also try to goad them into the finer purpose, of helping me:
I ask them to leave as ‘ Earthbound’ spirits,  travel to the Christ light, and RETURN to me, as cleansed spirits to assist me in others’ rescue.

What usually appeals to  ‘holdouts’,  is  reminding them that nobody  has spoken to them, or  paid any attention to them, for a  long time, except for me.
 With a more humane stance, rarely do they attack with projected telepathic/psychic attacks, in nightmares, or sinister poltergeist machinations .
I have bought some peace and I have done some service to the Other Side.
Ghost-hunters are the front line in this real endeavor, the rescue of ghosts, for in spiritually rescuing others, they can spiritually rescue themselves.

AN ALTERNATIVE PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE : A SPIRITUAL MESSAGE

AN ALTERNATIVE PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE : A SPIRITUAL MESSAGE

by Paul Schroeder

A spiritual message, in a time of need, illuminated a larger life path:
“The Spell of the Yukon”
               By Robert W. Service
“I wanted the gold, and I sought it;
   I scrabbled and mucked like a slave.
Was it famine or scurvy—I fought it;
   I hurled my youth into a grave.
I wanted the gold, and I got it—
   Came out with a fortune last fall,—
Yet somehow life’s not what I thought it,
   And somehow the gold isn’t all…”
I rarely ever worked overtime, or sought spare part- time jobs to make more money, seeking blue skies above to doing work indoors, and I relished my poorer beer pockets without ever developing or resenting the absence of a richer champagne taste.
Those ambitious lads of my childhood who entered finance, medicine or law,  worked 24-7 towards a salaried lifestyle that flew them first class, overseas to luncheon meetings and purchased them mansions in the  glass sky towers of Manhattan.
Effete, they would confess,”Those who say that money can’t buy you everything, don’t know where to shop!”
I  became a college instructor teacher who received a meager pittance, but though  I relished my bankers’ hours’ 9 to 3  job, I deeply longed for the respite of work, each academic year, within a ten week vacation, over the summer.
During academic semesters I recklessly ate up all of my sick days and personal days, taking escapes in the sun at the beach, and landscaped land escapes in three and four day weekends, at mountain lakes’ sites to hike in virgin woods alone.
Others in Higher Education had instead garnered many days, ‘in their bank’, saved up jealously, to trade for cash, losing one day for every two saved, upon retirement.
To me, counter intuitively, non providentially, time away to think was worth more, as an escape valve,  than half of some obscure future money.
Work was onerous and exacting, and freedom was a hiking-in-the-woods- relief, from fluorescent overhead lights, and the grinding grading of incessant exams and papers.
For release,  the best part of my chosen vocation, I lectured and pontificated, teaching American and English Literature, in a large lecture hall,  chain-smoking unfiltered cigarettes, during class instructions, throughout, to self medicate.
I am presently retired, thirty-five years in teaching, and have a modest lovely home and property, and as for wanderlust, I  have long found that armchair travel is the cheapest kind of travel, content to read brochures, than take inoculations, to explore the world.
Money aversion- ennui got worse as I grew older.
 I soon preferred the sidelines of copious earnings, a spent man, seeking  to relax and to write.
Why was I, so different, to care little for “success”, measured in hard work towards riches?
I wasn’t remotely money excited,  as a child, dimly knowing on a subliminal level that God didn’t place us here, on Earth,  on a special mission,  to make money.
A spiritual message experience, I received, as a teenager, a homeless runaway at seventeen, running from a divorced household of violence and police- being -called -by- the -neighbors,
became a core influence for my slant on monied life, a purposeful one of just getting by, instead of working hard towards earning luxuries.
It was Christmas time in New York City and I was seventeen years old, homeless penniless,  and wandering.
I had exited  the Museum of Natural History on Central Park West, where I had feasted for hours, on museum eye -candy, but my stomach  had rumbled with hunger.
And now back on the street, I found that it had been and was now, snowing heavily.
I wondered worriedly where I would sleep, that night.
 A local movie manager,  a friend, Paul Gary, said that I could, when in Brooklyn, sleep in a little used old loft room in his movie theatre, the Loews Oriental, in Bath Beach, Brooklyn, in a dusty, haunted costume property room.
I was the inhabiting spirit.
The smell of freshly roasted chestnuts,  sold to passerbys from a kiosk wagon, near to the museum’s stone steps, in a blizzard of snow, wafted my way and roused me.
I had no money in my pockets; I salivated at the  sweet nutty perfume.
 Chestnuts were a seasonal treat I had  enjoyed, at this very museum’s site, when I had a bountiful existence within my cantankerous parents’ marriage’s deep pockets’ circle of influence.
I would ask my parents,  they’d  fish for loose change and I would relish the sweet flavor of fire roasted hot chestnuts, now a new symbol of want and the faded memory of childhood .
I was alone upon the streets of Manhattan, hungry and had no money.
The  snow covered shoulders and face of the man who stood behind the kiosk wagon, were wrapped in steam; he was small and dark, wearing mittens with holes for the fingers.
The snow fell heavily in sheets that made a city of asphalt shock look gentler.
I  came close enough to  inhale the dark aroma of roasted chestnuts,  a childhood memory token, an olfactory solace for my pangs of hunger.
 I  noticed that on one side of his kiosk wagon hung a large piece of grey cardboard with a blue magic marker message upon it, his philosophy of the moment, but on an unconscious level, one  for the rest of my adult life.
A raised consciousness was sparked.
It read:
“I really don’t like making money;
I don’t want to conquer the world,
and I don’t wish to ever be rich;
I don’t even want to set the world, on fire;
 I just want to keep my nuts warm.”
A spiritual message, in a time of need, illuminated a larger life path.

IN THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES, CAMOUFLAGE PREVAILS

IN THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES, CAMOUFLAGE PREVAILS

 by Paul Schroeder

“Sex is not the answer.
Sex is the question.
The answer, is ‘YES’!”
(Woody Allen)

Since sex is less than five or ten percent of a marriage, those who marry just for sex, find imposing reasons later on in the relationship, to not confine sex, within the parameters of their marriage, but remain as faithful, as their options and opportunities.

 

After all, man DOES need woman for the artistry and complexity of friendship, for filial fun, cute socializing, profound partnering, and deep soul intimacy, but they may not ALL BE with the SAME woman.

Women wander sexually, as well, as statistics reveal, that every other wife strays to another’s arms, for love making.

 

I often thought that women had it better than men and that if I were a woman, without any love, I’d be down at the docks,  no underwear, waiting for the fleet to come in, with my skirt pulled over my head.

More and more women today, say aloud, that they “don’t need any man, anymore, even for sex, but that they DO need men , sometimes, but then, ONLY, to lift and move, heavy things around…

 

There surely HAS to be some more dignified way of expressing desire and passionate love for another human being, because the human body is a sad marvel, with its waste disposal plant, immediately adjoining its amusement park area.

Sex, is forever something that parents are loathe to discuss with their children; when I was a child of seven, they mentioned the fearful danger of sex, saying, “not to play around with sex, because it was,”playing with fire.”

At seven years old, I recall thinking,

“Well, I HAVE a hose…

But one who marries, just for sex, is buying a 747 jet, just for the little bag of peanuts.

Surely, there’s other ways to get peanuts, if that’s all that you really want.

Yes, men are more shallow than one would imagine, and will as soon marry for sumptuous breasts, than for love, an idea so repulsive and childish, that it takes much head shaking, to comprehend,  because spiritual
love is appreciating, sharing, empathy and giving, quite bereft of the pangs of lust.
Yet, for all men’s fascination with women’s breasts, should men themselves,  overweight  develop breasts, they  do chafe ingloriously, upset about those unmanly acquisitions.
                                                 

Men are more juvenile in primitive sexual drives and emotional makeup, and women are indeed, far better human beings, providential, sensitive, charitable, strong and beautiful.

This DNA primate difference can be demonstrated.

At a very young age, place a group of five-year-old girls, in a room together, and they will sit, talk and relate to each other with civil chatter, sharing, and often with surprising wisdom.
 But, place a group of five-year-old boys in a room together,  and soon they will roll all over the floor, like shaved gorillas, lost in individual and mutual combative power fantasies.

Our lingering social notion  that men are more important, more apt and more likely to be leaders, is still a hard social prejudice to quell.

Equality, in mutual passion, is easier to demonstrate:

When a cop on the beat encounters a young couple making love in the tall grass, in a park, he does NOT tap their shoes with his nightstick to angrily demand,

” All right, now, WHO’S in charge, here ?!”

Progress will turn HIStory, into HERstory.

Women remain naive and not the least bit aware of men’s glandular functioning concepts towards all women.

At a party or wedding,

men view a woman’s public, licentious exaggerated undulations in dance as her being naked,  and sexual fantasies unfurl

deep within men’s psyches.

Dance becomes sex in visualized fantasies of private encounters with these licentious, and actively lithe women on the dance floor.

For women,  few rarely grasp that their public dancing, is clearly nothing but public, overt, symbolic sex.

 

Perhaps this makeup makes it still a man’s world, because it’s much easier, in society, to BE a man:

Each solitary, individual feature on your face always stays its birth shade and original color.

Methinks, that If men wore makeup, most would be disconcertingly prettier than many women.

If a man chooses, he might, perhaps, consider a cosmetic shave, but ONLY to some parts of his face and neck.

You can always wear shorts despite how awful your legs do look.

Your last name, regardless of marital -legal battles, stays put.

People do not ever stare at your breasts and your nipples when you’re happily chatting with them.

You are genetically and socially blind to any but the biggest wrinkles in your clothing.

Calorie intake and belly size are never a crucial consideration.

 

You always have the consummate and total freedom of choice about the growing of a mustache.

 

You don’t have to remove all of your clothes just to pee.

 

You can wake up just as attractive as you were when you went to bed, rather than have your beauty somehow deteriorate, during the night.

 

You can more easily, socially, defend your space, with knee-jerk displays of violence.

Woman, as the pretty sex, is a relatively new idea:

 

Pirates who wore the perfumes, jewelry, silks and frills echoed this olden concept of male beauty; a classical nude in statue, was almost ALWAYS male, historically, in ancient Greece and Rome.
This classic maleness model of beauty oddly reversed itself in the eighteenth century and women became the “pretty sex”, instead.

Throughout the animal world, whether it flies or swims, the male is STILL the colorful sex, the female, the drab one.

 

But since the eighteenth century, sexual and cultural reversals have oddly persisted in human affairs, and women instead have become the pretty sex.

But “pretty” means, slim and skinny, as fashion dictates.

 

Today, women who carry a few extra pounds, live longer than the men, who mention it…

Straight men, do not adorn themselves towards being highly polished- exceptions exist for politicians, actors, sports-stars, head gangsters, and police detectives, for within these men, narcissism, a sinful sense of entitlement, and monumental ego all loom.

 

In those egomaniac ‘types’ , highly-polished, self-preening is always accompanied by bullying others.
But the question remains, for the sake of guile and deceit: how curried and airbrushed is too curried and airbrushed?
The first thing I look at, when I see a polished, curried woman, is her eyebrows; if they’re natural, it’s a blast of honest sexuality that curls my toes.
If they’ve been removed and severe Groucho-Klingon brows, of crayola, at odd sharp angles, or worse,  tattooed on, I experience an anxious ‘turn off’, a social warning of duplicity, and all of my ‘antenna’ are up, and waving..
Women with long lustrous hair have always been sought as mates, because hair grows slowly and vividly reflects one’s general health, so mating was preferred with shiny, long-haired lasses, who were lax with lasciviousness …
But the rub, is that many women who look like floss, patina and veneer, are mostly shallow types who a man has to pay, for an intelligent conversation, because
 they have long cared ONLY about their outsides, and not ever about, their ‘insides’.

‘Beauty’ television commercials and ‘beauty’ magazine ads feature graphics of highly curried women, extolling Western society’s virtues of vacuous, narcissistic women, who gaze back at us, made over into a man’s surreal vision of what ‘beauty’ should look like..

 

In Maine, at a lobster restaurant, I went to the register to pay and behind the counter, opening the register, was a tall, strikingly handsome, buxom woman, in a formal ballgown who sported a large handlebar mustache.

 

Her startling visage has stayed with me, for many years, resplendent and role indigestible..
It’s a cultural facade and mirage of the sadly discarded true value of beauty, which always comes from within.
 A man in our culture says,”You’re beautiful”, before he says, “I love you”, and thus a woman is wrongly taught , that if beauty fades, then love must also fade.
Poorly informed, desperately seeking love, she runs scared to the beauty parlor, nail salon, hair stylist, cosmetic facial and breast implant surgeons, willing to suffer to maintain an airbrushed, curried, artificial “beauty” , so that “love” will not also vanish.

Men perpetrate this hoax until they themselves believe it.

In truth, a woman is as sexy in bed as that woman was interesting, before bed, and interesting, after bed.

But, for many non-self-respecting men, it’s all  just  about  a woman’s exterior patina, and veneer towards sex.

For these men, none of them ever reached under a woman’s skirt, looking for her library card…

 

Men admit that they LOVE women who look hot and who act hot;  homespun, often unwilling women, by comparison, are like radiators, men have to keep touching, to see if the heat’s coming up.

Yes, men are more shallow than one would imagine, more vain than women and more duplicitous in satisfying their overwhelming hormonal drives.

 

Thus, using men’s sex drive, against them, women culturally have been taught guile and deceit from a tender age, to ‘trap a man’, by using their physical, sexual allure:

 

They shave armpits,

shave legs and mustaches,

dye their hair,

use eye-liner,

mascara and false eyelashes,

face makeup,

 

(“Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy”)

 

 foundation,

earrings,

tints of rouge blush,

sport uplift brassieres,

apply perfumes,

apply lipstick,

go for Botox or plastic surgery to erase facial wrinkles,

 install Hershey-kiss silicone fake breasts,

wear high heels,

designer fingernails,

contact lenses,

  paint fingers and toes.
They put on things, to make them look bigger, and things that make them look smaller;

then, they meet a man,

and  they want, …”HONESTY!!”

Man, refuses to accept that makeup glamour fools the eye and deludes the heart, until he awakens after the wedding to see his bride without any makeup, and in shock thinks, “WHO is THAT?!”

Can such preoccupation with sexual camouflage avoid extra-marital diversion , and allow longevity and truthfulness towards a meaningful marriage?

 

Many couples who have lasted together forever, don’t have to work hard,  to get along  in marriage’.

 

When George Burns and Gracie Allen were asked how they remained so in love after sixty years, he said:

 

‘Marriage is a business.
When you work too hard to make the business of marriage work, you get tired, and when you’re tired , you get annoyed, and when you’re annoyed,  arguments start, and when arguments start…then, you’re OUT of business’ .

I remember once being stopped and asked at Disneyland by a graying and aged couple, to “photograph them”, for it was none other than their “fiftieth anniversary”.

 

I saw the way he held her hand and how they hugged and kissed as I struggled to find and frame the picture.

I wondered what wisdom and marital advice they might share, for too many, marriages end sadly in divorce.

 

These too many short-term marriages, for too many men, seemed to me,  just like a tornado:

 

in the beginning, there’s a lot of sucking and blowing , and later on … you lose the house.

 

Whatever happened to the romantic woman and to the romantic man who said that they could not live without each other?

 

He went East, and she went West… and they both lived.

My wife went over to speak with his wife to comment on how sweet they looked together, but when

I returned the camera as he made his way  over to me,  I asked him the $500,000 lulu question:

 

“What’s the secret to being married, so successfully, for so long?”

 

He looked confidential and wise and peeked to see if his wife was engaged in conversation before he spoke:

 

“You gotta cheat”, he whispered.

Men are like linoleum floors. Lay ’em right and you can walk all over them for thirty years. ~ Betsy Salkind

GRANDMA’S RUSSIAN ADVICE

Grandma’s Advice

by Paul Schroeder

Just before my grandmother on my mother’s side died at the age of 95, I whispered a kiss in her ear and thanked her for her wisdom.

One odd piece of advice, that she had taught me when I was a child, I had carried close to my inner ear, all of my life.

It had been an Independence Day warning, borne of a distant Russian wisdom, one that she had whispered to me four decades ago, when I was nine or ten years old, impressionable and the apple of her eye.

The imprecation that I got from her, the warning whispered in my small rapt ear when I was nine or ten years old had been an odd warning that ruled and guided my life, and through angst, had come to define a larger part of what I called my soul.

Her ‘Russian optimism’ for the world, was childhood overwhelming for me.
For her, life was always a cup of optimism, half filled ….. but, with something, that could  likely kill you.

Now, she at ninety-five was far from that woman who in giving advice could be ironic and poetical.

She had used lipstick as a rouge to color her cheeks and then decided that her whole face was of a pallor that also needed color, rubbed lipstick all over her face.

She was quite a shock when I got onto the seventh floor of the retirement home and turned the corner and saw her sitting in a wheelchair, as though apparently waiting for me.

 

She still had her sense of humor.

She earnestly asked with a childlike innocence if I could bring her some new makeup and some big diamond jewelry for her to wear to dress herself up, when I visited her next?

Cautiously, I had asked her, skeptically dubious ;”What type of diamond jewelry?” She had said;

“Expensive, fancy jewelry.”

She labored under the delusion that she was in a hotel in Miami, one that slouched in basic standards;

“The meals at this hotel are terrible, but what is a person to do?”

She did not ever surmise herself to be in a nursing home near the beach in Coney Island, Brooklyn.

A person’s senior mind can lend a type of psychic anesthesia that acts in many ways to protect it from uncompromising and painful truths. .

Now I was an odd adult.

I wanted her to know that I loved her, how her whisper had returned years later as my gratitude.

I had loved to cherish ideas; a rare few philosophers had touched my early soul .

Dr. Seuss had barely competed with grandma.

But, he  wrote : “Be who you are and say what you think, because those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind, don’t matter!”

 

But grandma didn’t recall her similar advice or the small pleasures and agonies of our past.

My other odd philosopher was sitting here in her wheelchair, armed and propped with a pillow/ alarm that would audibly alert nurses in the retirement home if she pitched forward and left her chair’s upright fixed position.

She was different the next time I saw her, the way she used to be ;

” Hello, Paul; sharp as a matzoh and twice as crummy!”

“How come you don’t call your grandma more often? Humph!!”

“Humph;You going to wait until I’m in the cemetery and THEN you’ll visit me?”

“I’m sorry, that you’ll be sorry, but THEN it’ll be too late!”

This was the same verbatim greeting that I had gotten from her over the years over the telephone .  I presumed that I was calloused to it all.

 

It always deeply riddled me with guilt but I never let her know, but instead I saw it rather as a good sign that she was still feeling feisty.

When she successfully aimed ring-toss-Velcro-guilt in my direction, I rationalized, she must be feeling much better.

I quickly tried to change the subject; ” Grandma I remember that boardwalk we can see here in Brighton Beach from a time when you were fifty years old and I was about nine years old and I still remember the good advice that you gave me, back then.”

“What advice did I give you?”

I told her.

It had stayed with me for many years as a token of her wisdom.

“You brought me to you on a bench on that boardwalk, in Coney Island, on a hot 4th of July afternoon, when the whole family was there suddenly hugging and kissing each other,

happy for once, to be all together and happy seeing the fireworks, and then you whispered it in my ear:

“Don’t get too close to people; you’ll catch their dreams,” You told me.

“What?”, she said, so I told her again;

“Don’t get too close to people; you’ll catch their dreams.”

 

“OH!”, she said,”I am VERY sorry, if I ever told you that!.”

“I AM very sorry.”

I reminded her, however, what an impact she’d had on me then.

“That whisper, as a recommended life philosophy, was both poetry and  true and that, your advice, really stayed deeply with me.”

 

Taken to heart, it had allowed me to remain aloof and separate from everyone, as a type of self protection,  to preserve my OWN dream.

 

“She looked at me as though I were some stranger in a dream.

I said it, again;

“Don’t get too close to people, you’ll catch their dreams.”

She was thoughtful and then looked worried.

 

She looked into my eyes.

“I never told you THAT.” …

 

“You shouldn’t get too close, because…”

“Germs”, she said.

” I said that you’ll catch their GERMS.”

“I told you and your sister MANY times;

“Don’t get too close to people, ’cause you’ll catch their GERMS.” she said, again.

 


“And YOU’RE supposed to be the smart one?!””Oh,” she groaned in pain.”
Take me over to the dining room; it’s still too early for the lunch, but I want to get there anyway, early.”

That wrong belief had overshadowed every relationship in my life with an ambivalence and a craving to just be left alone.

If one was alone, one was safe from what people could do to you, I had always reasoned.

But, I had been running away from my own shadow.

Two marriages and a dozen influenza later, I had realized her truth, too late.

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE, WITHOUT ENOUGH BREADCRUMBS, TO GET HOME

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE, WITHOUT ENOUGH BREADCRUMBS, TO GET HOME

by Paul Schroeder
Part of the alarming nature of the unknown is its mysterious link to the known; I awaken each night to a lewd exhibition of the merging.

I open my eyes and turn to see the digital alarm clock, sitting on the lamp table next to my bed and see: 12:12, and 1:11 am, 2:22 am and 3:33 am and 4:44 am.

This distresses me so badly, upon awakening, that I cannot think; just a wave of panic that SOMETHING is awakening me with alacrity, as the calculated odds of awakening each night precisely at those specific times is astronomically impossible.

The message intended seems designed to throw me off balance and to keep me wrapped in fearful confusion; it lets me know that I am being toyed with but yields no greater insight.

It has taught me that when I sleep I wander amongst monsters and beastly company.

At night, your astral body travels to realms from angelic to demonic, spirit worlds of myriad vibrational levels and the pictures that you see on the backs of your eyelids, while you R.E.M., are not dreams but visits, souvenirs of a greater reality.
Like goldfish who never suspect a greater world beyond the pond’s surface, the limited awareness of humankind floats beneath the surface of a greater reality, groping, mouths agape in fish ignorance.
Although the synchronicity of 1:11, 2:22, 3:33, has widely and hastily been attributed to positive or angelic energies, one’s sub-conscious response to hearing a barely audible psychic ‘nudge’ to glance at the clock, just at that time, reveals a fingerprint, a silhouette of an interloper.

80% of the population is so saddled, unknowingly.

It is an unseen attached energy, one who taunts and offers ‘peeks behind the spiritual curtain’, but one who stays hidden.

Nightmares, just as ubiquitous, are demonic telepathic attacks that characteristically awaken one at 3:33, and precisely like the characteristic three scratch marks commonly left on spirit-assaulted people’s arms and legs, are simply a powerful rebuke, of the Holy Trinity, whether one personally believes in that stuff, or not.

I resent the imposed confusion such time synchronizations bring and I think that since most people are too afraid to think about masquerading spirits, or impish deceptive aliens, they too quickly want to assume that it’s angelic prodding,

and the truth is down a long hall and somewhere else.

 

Sometimes after abductions, the inter dimensional door, left open, invites the gangster fringe element of the spirit world; sometimes demons are thrown into the equation as spite work for attempts at thwarting abductions.

 

As my spirituality increases, it appears that I am become more an increasing beacon for dark side entities.
Knocks on walls, pings on overhead lamps, heavy planted pots moving, sounds of animals running across the floor; I have shut all the lights to wander my rooms, in pitch blackness, with awe, to reach out mentally to these offenders.
Creepy, astonishing and most revealing weeks of this, before silence descends; I have unlearned fear and horror.
Phantoms’ energies fill the air around us.

And only some of these negative, intelligent energies afoot, earthbound, are human.

The problem in fighting Jinns, aliens, demons, is that they do not hold the same religious functioning concepts as we do which makes most religious defenses moot .
How do I go about differentiating them?
Reptilians come on like gang-busters, very sharply burning one’s skin where attachments are made, while demonics drape one,  from behind, with overhanging ‘buzzing’ touches felt on both arms, simultaneously, for they hang onto one’s back, to ride one, like a horse.
Earthbound human spirits,  will most generally touch only one arm.

Ethereal cleansing, using running shower water to help me visualize washing dark energy down the drain, is a metaphysics defensive tool that I use to combat the build up of static electricity, and Electro-Magnetic charge connections associated with the ‘touch’ of stubborn, unseen and ‘hungry’ unseen entities.

However, an unseen entity baffled me when, rather than vanishing, it used the water’s energy to partially materialize for a full moment or two to study me, an energy lunch, one who actually resisted, and refused to be nibbled at!

It had drained energy from me, and had burned my skin where its connections touched, and it had also buzzed me within, psychically;

sudden

unprovoked sexual urges, creeping anxiety and negative ideations had surfaced.

 

Under the shower water, however, a creature had actually semi-materialized,

stared me right in the eye, and had blinked and had looked again.

It stood under five feet upright, with catlike slit eyes, and had closely resembled a scaled monitor lizard, in both aspect and in facial structure.

That diminutive reptilian had viewed me with its head tilted, cocked sideways, birdlike; it had piercingly studied me, with an alert raw intelligence that had radiated curiosity. After just a few seconds, the creature had vanished.

But it didn’t leave. Still under the shower’s waters, I had remained frozen, in sheer amazement, having seen a creature, that I had never imagined even existed .

It was similar in construct to the velociraptor creatures, in Steven Spielberg’s film, “Jurassic Park”, in its proprietary as well as bird-like sinister demeanor.

Like those cinema raptors, that short upright reptile had mirrored an intense look of saurian intellect, an almost precise cross, between a human and a reptile.

I had been horrified to see that momentary, inquisitive, immature reptilian alien creature, because it had a long reputation in UFO literature and  alien research as an inter dimensional bottom feeder, a sinister common parasite of human consciousness.

 

These beings see us as,”containers”, to verbatim quote them.

Post abduction, alien abductee depredation, done through implant energy drains and by inserting alien astral attachments, within the layered human psyche towards a goal of eventual possession has widely been reported, an ‘invasive’ parasite of human consciousness, a proprietary in-dwelling, highly technological demonic.

 

Aliens,  thirsty for our endocrines, were likely mistaken as mere vampires in the 3rd and 4th centuries, and astonishingly, raw garlic works as an herbal repellent, just as it is reputed to do so with vampires.

 

They are, it appears, the game wardens of this preserve, that we call ‘Earth’ and just like good game wardens, they do not let the creatures within, suspect that it is indeed, a preserve.
These monitor- lizard-men choose
human young as a preferred diet ; that is, we were never the  ‘apex of the food-chain’.
These beings’ silhouettes repeatedly  emerge as the reptilian masquerade of the O.T.Bible ,’God’, and the clearly depicted ancient reptilian Mayans’ ‘God’, a God who had organized a ‘religion’, that provided him a delicacy, he most desired: that of a still-beating human heart.
The Bible, a compilation of E.T. experiences, with ancient Hebrews, a masquerade of God, by sinister and controlling reptilians, were the elusive and sinister beings who contrived the technological artifice of the Ark of the Covenant, and Hebrew kosher laws, to control precisely what their food source ate.
Seen through this modern lens,
the true God of the Universe,  an all-loving creative spirit,  has always been somewhere else.
Draco reptilians’ masquerade as The Almighty God, deludes us still, as it did ancient tribal people.
Seen through modern eyes, Biblical silhouettes of deceptive Draco reptilian farmers of mankind, with their inherent
cruelty, negativity and murderous  intent, which inundated its scriptures, and harsh laws, is revealed.

Governments, today, can be seen as  paternally loving, to protect and shield the  modern public from that ontological shock, one likely to shatter society, about whose image we were, in truth, created in.
What’s another indigestible realization gleaned by abductees?
That we are time/space woven, and cocooned within a reptilian computerized time matrix, a contrived-‘loop’- time dimension, one elusive and non- revealing, far from the Universes’ objective “reality”.

In truth,  lower Earth animal forms, on this planet, seen as reptiles, amphibians, insects, felines, are mirrored and echoed by the larger alien genotypes and phenotypes, highly technological beings, aliens who long ago, lent their DNA to create this preserve, that we call Earth.

 

We , too, like the ‘synthetic-work beings’,  who we call, “small greys”, are constructs of alien creative meddling,  with reptilian overlords in command.

Imagine a cityscape of people, who have saurian parasites ethereally attached to their spinal columns.

It lends a mind-bending  new meaning to the concept of a silent invasion.

 

But, what of my experience with a juvenile reptilian that

 seemed stuck, like astral dog-poo, merged with the bottom of my psychic shoe?

Morning and night, this persistent horrid entity feasted on my energies like an unerring, stubborn yellow jacket wasp,

fancying me like a can of cola at a picnic with the same insect stubbornness. .

Imposed nightmares were vivid and dazzling in the extreme.

It had NOT been human, but had markedly radiated a brilliance of spiteful and curious intellect.

(classic round craft, designed specifically for human abductions)

( round UFOs are for human abductions and pilot predators are reptilian..)

 Using white light as a protection, feeds a meal of an energy lunch to dark force entities;  that’s why they become quiescent.

And that even prayer, like using white light,  can make one an energy luncheon,

as negative-thought-entities, crave  surmounting and overcoming such ‘presented’ challenges.

A barrier of  visualized electric purple light, instead, has a frequency disruptive to dark force entities/energies, but is, however, a difficult color vibrational visualization to sustain.

 

Electric blue, easier to visualize,  has  protective qualities of electric violet visualized around one.
Most people are taught to use “white light”, but  are unaware of the inherent danger.
 My individual reptoid microcosm experience, surely reflects some greater global macrocosm, with these entities and larger mankind.
We are all alone, together.
I have  learned that anxiety is the soul’s natural reaction to alien psychic intrusion;  an entity unseen, prying and opportunistic, has entered your energies to peek within.
The greater the wave of panic the more potent the intrusion and the entity.
 Psychics will experience this anxiety climb, when in the presence of a strong intrusive spirit.

For those who suffer, unknowingly, wrestling with horrid waves of electric anxiety,

This can be tested, simply:

With the next  panic attack onset, forcibly order the anxiety, away, in the name of God, or Jesus, or The Great Spirit, or “The One”, with force; anxiety will  abate immediately .

It will re-surge again, as the entity responds initially to withdraw, but since its nature is sinister, stubborn, and predatory, it will re enter.
Continue to banish it and you’ll see that panic  will cease temporarily with this tool, as they sit down to think this over before they again approach.
It is then that one can realize that  an unseen war, one spiritual, and not that of a personality-psychological-illness-model exists.
Using metaphysics tools and visualizations, to protect one from a dark force entity, that causes raw panic, brings one so far down the rabbit hole, that one fears not having enough breadcrumbs, to find the way back home.
But you will also have by-passed all medical psychiatrists who only would have thrown pills at the symptom, not the cause..
A wave of free floating anxiety  will  instead signal an effort to reestablish a foothold , by the telepathic intrusions of a hitchhiking demonic alien.
When they ‘peek’ inside our minds, the soul’s reaction to such intrusion, is  free-floating anxiety.
Sigmund Freud’s theories of dreams are gone, like so much Austrian fog,  because very vivid
‘dreams’, when one is harassed by such beings, are actually  OBE attacks,  astral psychic tampering by
 an alien demonic’s uncannily canny mental prowess.
Dreams, cannot, under these circumstances, be entrusted to reveal Freudian or Jungian truths.
Astral worlds?
According to ancient hieroglyphic texts, Egyptian rulers and pharaohs, as part of their preparation to assume their Godlike throne, were purposefully asphyxiated and then cunningly brought back, after a fashion of time, by skilled physicians, in the conviction widely held then, that  a pharaoh who had been brought back from within ‘the light’, who had met spirit helpers, dead relatives or angels, could  be trusted to rule with justice and insight and enlightenment, an astonishing ancient criteria for leadership.
We, informed wrongly since childhood about our spiritual reality, are in a religious hall of mirrors with a quicksand floor.
We are someone else’s ‘property’ and ‘creation’,
derived from  naked apes, beings who marry, knot ties and ride public conveyances, our DNA manipulated, over eons, by the reptilian masters of our universe, who created this ‘preserve’, that we call Earth,
good games-wardens, who never let their creatures within, suspect that it is indeed, a preserve.

To the military who ‘know’ all of this, what’s the benefits side, to them, of this reptilian reality, behind our historical and personal curtains?

Alien technology, recovered from downed discs and other craft, has already inspired Skunkworks to give us the ability to recreate and reverse engineer:

 

-lasers,
-fiber optics,
-nuclear power,
-cold fusion anti gravity,
-microwaves,
-stealth technology,
-weaponry sabers.

– varied nanotechnology,

-microchips,

-specialized surgical tools,

-cloning-genetic engineering and inter-species bypass techniques

-psychotronics: electronic machines that respond to brain-waves

and most recently a scramble to deduce ‘smart skins’ of craft which like chameleons, alter shape and color according to environments,

magical technologies, reverse engineered and imitated.

We have a lot to be thankful for because of Klaatu, even though he is the complete opposite of the charming, handsome gracious, elevated spirit in film and in book.(“The Day the Earth Stood Still”)

He, in reptilian form and in grey form, instead, clearly sees us in precisely the same perfunctory way, as we see chickens and rabbits.

Skunkworks and the military are setting up advanced tyechnological deck chairs, aboard the Titanic.
POSTSCRIPT:

I force myself to not ‘look up’, anymore, after the ensemble overhead sighting of nine craft, I witnessed on December 1st 1995, and after the concurrent poltergeist and telepathic disturbances and ‘nightmares’ that those ‘unseen’ critters astonishingly ‘pulled’ afterwards. .

They seemed to climb down the psychic ladder of my awe, into my house and life.

The focus on UFOs, the mere craft-Cadillac-vehicles, without mention of the occupant-pilots, or mention of E.T. pilots’ tactics and motives within that ‘sighting’, seems an E.T. clever Jedi-mind-trick, and after reading endless such “sightings” reports, makes me wonder, if there’s even intelligent life, on Earth..

There have been ‘positive’ offshoots :

an ontological shift unfurling God, far from ‘the-UFO- five-books-of-Moses,” and “New Testament”

an exploration of “dreams-that-weren’t-dreams”,

an awakening of spiritual essences E.T.s are addicted to,

adeptness with hypnosis and metaphysics ‘tools’,

and a comparable recognition of the never suspected unseen goodness, also afoot..

without these UFO/E.T. bizarre experiences and their awful suffering, no wind-attempting butterfly, but only an Earthbound-stolid caterpillar spirit , would have endured…

if you simply assure yourself, totally convinced, that you WILL remember, you will begin to recall odd “dream” snippets that for no logical reason, linger, upon awakening.

The simple trick is to play that snippet over, and over, like a tape machine until suddenly, what happened just before or just after , surfaces. In this way, using conscious effort, one can unfurl a larger segment to see through the disguise.

One can self-hypnotize suggestions to oneself to overcome the blockages.

I have spontaneously recalled my episodes without any regressive hypnosis inductions..

How to stop, amend and blunt these kidnappings is what is truly more tantamount than resolving deeper meanings..

 

EPILOGUE:

“For we are fighting with people not made of flesh and blood, but against persons without bodies—evil rulers of the unseen world, those mighty satanic beings and great evil princes of darkness who rule this world, and against huge numbers of wicked spirits in high places. 

Put on all God’s armor so that you will be able to stand safe.” Ephesians 6.

(see below)

see below:

EPILOGUE:
UFO / ALIEN DISCLOSURE QUOTES:
 President Harry Truman:
“I’m not at liberty to discuss the governments knowledge of extraterrestrial UFO’s at this time. I am still personally being briefed on the subject!”
–President Richard M. Nixon:
“I think about how quickly our differences worldwide would vanish if we were facing an alien threat from outside this world. And I ask you, does not this threat already exist?”
–President Ronald Reagen UN address:
“The US Airforce assures me that UFO’s pose no threat to National Security..”
–President John F Kennedy:

“I strongly recommend that there be a committee investigation of the UFO phenomena. I think we owe it to the people to establish credibility regarding UFOs and to produce the greatest possible enlightenment on this subject”
–President Gerald Ford (1966):

Extraterrestrial contact is a real phenomenon. The Vatican is receiving much information about extraterrestrials and their contacts with humans from its Nuncios (embassies) in various countries, such as Mexico, Chile and Venezuela.”
— Monsignor Corrado Balducci:

As stated five different times on Italian TV** (Vatican theologian insider close to the Pope,Monsignor Balducci said that he is on a Vatican commission looking into extraterrestrial encounters, and how to cope with the emerging general realization of extraterrestrial contact.)

“Given the millions of billions of Earth-like planets, life elsewhere in the Universe without a doubt, does exist. In the vastness of the Universe we are not alone.”
–Albert Einstein

“The evidence points to the fact that Roswell was a real incident and that indeed an alien craft did crash, and that material was recovered from that site. We all know that UFOs are real.All we need to ask is where do they come from, and what do they want?”
–Capt. Edgar Mitchell Apollo 14 Astronaut

“In my mind, there is no question that they’re out there. My Career is well established. My texts books are required reading in all the major capitals on planet earth. If you want to become a physicist to learn about the unified field theory-you read my books. Therefore, I’m in a position to say: Yes- Most likely they’re out their, perhaps even visited, perhaps on our moon. – ABC News Quote —
— Professor Dr. Michio Kaku

“We must insist upon full access to disks recovered. For instance, in the La case the Army grabbed it and would not let us have it for cursory examination.”
–J Edgar Hoover

I feel that the Air Force has not been giving out all the available information on the Unidentified Flying Objects. You cannot disregard so many unimpeachable sources.”
— John W. McCormack, Speaker of the House of Representatives of the United States. January (1965)

“UFO sightings are now so common, the military doesn’t have time to worry about them – so they screen them out. The major defense systems have UFO filters built into them, and when a UFO appears, they simply ignore it.”
–Lee Katchen (former atmospheric physicist with NASA)

“Let there be no doubt. Alien technology harvested from the infamous saucer crash in Roswell, N.Mex., in July 1947 led directly to the development of the integrated circuit chip, laser and fiber optic technologies, Particle beams, Electromagnetic propulsion systems, Depleted uranium projectiles, Stealth capabilities, and many others! How do I know? I was in charge! (A matter of public record)I think the kids on this planet are wise to the truth, and I think we ought to give it to them. I think they deserve it.’
–Colonel Philip Corso

 Army Intelligence officer, former head of the Foreign Technology at the U.S. Army’s Research and Development department at the Pentagon.
Four years director of intelligence on President Eisenhower’s White House National Security Staff
Bio:

Abductions and their remnant elusive memories have opened all this for Paul, a confirmed atheist, UNTIL Paul saw aliens float him out of his body, in his bed, at night.

Then, he knew that they were interested in an essence that he never suspected that he had, a nonphysical soul.

Our spiritual powers that interest and addict interdimensionals are the very powers that can be used to thwart further attacks.

They infect auras with attachments to themselves and ride the reincarnation roller coaster with human beings, as a sanctuary, to avoid the death that they fear and to steal the spiritual recycling that we have.

Souls are garnered, detoured from our natural spiritual evolution in Heaven.

These joyriding grays can be sinister, discorporate alien souls, stuck to our energies, who bring a new meaning to the concept of a silent invasion.