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Saturday, March 31, 2012

John Kaminski – Tell the Truth and Go To Jail

John Kaminski –

Tell the Truth and Go To Jail

johnkaminski.info August 14, 2011

( Note for those who have an American public school education: Galileo Galilei was an Italian polymath who actually founded the scientific method. When he became the first human to formally propose that the Earth orbited the Sun, which was contrary to the fables of the Catholic church that ruled the world in the late 1600s, he spent the rest of his life under house arrest. Our beloved Holy Mother the Church apologized 400 years later.)
Paul was persecuted by Jewish officials for telling the truth to the Galileeans, just as those who declare historical truth and warn of the Jewish plans for the world conquest are persecuted today. In his letter he asks the question: “Have I become your enemy because I tell the truth?” (Luther Bible, 1912, Galileeans 4:16)
— Revisionist Clarion, 2009
“For the nation that will not serve you shall perish, it shall be utterly ruined.” (Isaiah 60:13) How foolish are the non-Jews who do not take these threats seriously! The powerful Jews, the global money lords, live by these rules and follow them exactly. Once more it has become unmistakably clear that they do not have a bad conscience when they deceive and rob us… When they commit robbery and murder, they are but following the commandments of their god!
— Horst Mahler, 2009
How many people thrown in jail for trying to tell the truth will it take ’til we know that too many people passively accept the deliberate lies we’ve been manipulated into believing?
Like rotting fruit hanging off a diseased tree, examples are rife — 9/11. Iraq. Afghanistan. Gaza. Chemtrails changing the physical composition of humans. Dead microbiologists and the swine flu vaccine mass murder caper. Fixed vote counting. Our food supply is deliberately contaminated by known poisons. The bailout a robbery to exceed all others, just like what happened to Rome.
Mainstream media, tasked with numbing the minds of all they mislead, pretend not to recognize that these issues are all phony spin concealing ulterior purposes, and by doing so, work to suffocate the consciousness of everyone in the world.
All these wrenching public events are false stories foisted on a gullible public for the purpose of, at best, fleecing them. These are the lies that rule the world, and kill people in real time. The New York Times is not a newspaper; it is the dispenser of Jewish information, designed to cripple and maim societies until they bleed or starve to death. As such, it has done more harm to ordinary people than any other publication in history. (See its endorsement of Woodrow Wilson after the Federal Reserve Act passed.)
But the number one example — the issue over which more innocent, truth-telling people have been imprisoned than any other — is the Holocaust, that Jewish public relations gambit to get people to feel sorry for the Jews by exploiting the suffering of their own people, gaining control of political and legal systems, and passing laws that command everyone to feel sorry for the Jews. (Not to mention reaping billions in reparations!) This effectively conceals or at least deflects discussion about any information about crimes committed by Jews.
That the Madoff ripoff of billions of dollars and the kidney-selling rabbis of New Jersey got mainstream media coverage is a clear indication that this Jewish behavior was so horrible that not even the anti-Semitism card could conceal it, although Ha’aretz, the Israeli daily newspaper, did actually play it.
Our situation is much worse than the harsh futures Orwell and Huxley contemplated. You will be told what to believe or else. You will love the Jews, even as they rob and kill you.
The new Holocaust religion is the thought-control device that enables all the other lies to remain in place amongst the dulled minds of the anesthetized populace.
The latest casualty of laws that criminalize speech against the Jews is Fredrick Töben, the revisionist professor, jailed in Australia for publicizing versions of history that Jews find offensive — like, Hitler didn’t gas anyone and no soap was made out of Jewish corpses. People were not thrown into “lakes of fire,” as Nobel prizewinner Elie Wiesel reported, so emblematic of the fabricated Jewish hysteria so widely publicized by Jewish-owned media.
Töben joins a long line of people of integrity merely reporting their empirical findings of history, who were summarily thrown into jail because their study of what really happened revealed the mainstream Jewish version of World War II to be as fictional as current policies, practices and perspectives in U.S. media so vividly demonstrate.
Ernst, Sylvia and Horst
Of all the unjust imprisonments, the sorry tale of Ernst Zündel has to rank at the top. Kidnapped from his home in Tennessee by federal agents, he has spent the last eight years in one prison or another in one country or another for publishing information that has since been proven to be true. Although due for release next year from Mannheim Prison, Zündel and his wife have no country in which to feel secure, because the Jewish octopus of kangaroo courts has wrapped its demonic tentacles around virtually every so-called nation in the world, and his wife Ingrid is charged with many of the same crimes as Ernst supposedly committed, like “defaming the memory of the dead.”
Zündel endured two show trials in Jewish-controlled Canada back in the 1980s and was acquitted, but the Jewish harassment against him never stopped. The original offense he supposedly committed was publishing “Did Six Million Really Die?” by a writer named Richard Harwood. The plaque at Auschwitz has recently been changed from 4 million to 1.4 million, making the 6 million figure a mathematical impossibility, and proving the truth of Harwood’s title. But Zündel remains in jail, as do all those other principled individuals who have by scholarship and honesty fully debunked the shamefully twisted Jewish version of World War II.
Even more ridiculous and sinister than Zündel’s continuing punishment is the jail sentence being served by his lawyer, Sylvia Stolz, who was convicted of uttering forbidden information in her attempt to defend Zündel.
Stolz is known for telling the corrupt German Jewish judge what she really felt:
“What about you — are you Germans? “German” stands for honor and steadfastness! Think of Deutsche Treue! Nobody can call what is going on in this court as “honorable.” In this court, the only “justice” is inspired by the Talmud!”
Sentenced to three years for merely defending her client, Stolz told the court:
“If my actions bring a little more light into this dark hour for Germany, then I will gladly go to prison! It does not bother me that I am officially ridiculed and insulted by this despicable court and atrocious government… My high and mighty judges, you are convicting yourselves, not me.”
Imagine, in this world, a court that denies reason and truth in favor of what it has prejudged to be the truth, and nothing more may be discussed about it, on penalty of the law. This is the new Jewish justice that rules the world.
As heart rending as the long slow torture of Zundel and Stolz has been, the jailing of Horst Mahler shows the sheer cruelty of sadistic Jewish judges trying to maintain their Talmudic mindlock on the world at large.
Mahler, 73, was given a six-year sentence. At his age, likely a death sentence, capital punishment for trying to tell the truth.
His initial statement to the court went like this:
I respond to the question of why I am doing this with an observation by Prof. Robert Faurisson, the famous French revisionist and expert on the subject of the legends surrounding homicidal gas chambers.
These legends form the very heart of the “Holocaust” cult or religion.
The following quotation appeared in the newspaper La Montagne on 8 January 2009:
“The Zionist-American axis has bombed German children with phosphorus, bombed the Japanese with atomic bombs, bombed Vietnamese children with Agent Orange and bombed Iraki children with depleted uranium. It is high time that the defeated, humiliated and slandered of the world strike back, and I have been doing this for many years with the “atom bomb of the poor.”
That is Historical Revisionism.
Revisionism is a weapon that kills and disfigures no one.
It destroys nothing but lies, slanders defamation, and the myth of “Shoa” along with its horrible “Shoa Business” that is so dear to the likes of Bernard Madoff, Elie Wiesel, all those “miraculously rescued” survivors of “Holocaust” and the murderers of the children of Gaza.
Mahler figured his jailing was just another case of “individuals who choose historical correctness over political correctness must be silenced through use of the criminal laws.”
The Revisionist Clarion reported it this way.
Mahler has never suggested that ordinary individual Jews are Germany’s enemies, however.
He is referring to Jewish law, especially the Old Testament or Tora, which designates the whole non Jewish world as its enemy.
Mahler emphasizes that since the Jewish ruling elite consider us their enemy, we must take their hostile views into consideration.
The Zionist controlled German media all agree on one point: Mahler must not be allowed to express defense arguments in court.
Can truth be made law?
The law is the law, but the truth is the truth.
How could it be that casting doubt of the Jewish version of events in World War II — a twisted version of it that was not even invented until the 1960s, while the war took place in the 1940s — is a crime in all these Jewish-controlled countries such as the United States, Britain and Germany?
The answer is the brutal truth of human existence. They control everything. The money, the media, medicine, and especially the court system. Not a single district attorney in America dared to convene a grand jury to investigate the 9/11 coverup, despite the overwhelming evidence that has been thoroughly disseminated despite the mainstream media blackout.
Jewish kingpins planned and executed 9/11 and Bush and Cheney went along for the ride. Not a peep of that possibility in mainstream media, or at least not yet, after eight years.
In the same vein, even mainstream media never wrote about a “holocaust” until the 1960s, nothing by World War II leaders Eisenhower, Churchill and Stalin (all of whom, BTW, were Jewish) about “gassings,” and no paperwork left by the meticulous Germans about plans to exterminate anyone. The dead at the end of the war were principally killed by starvation and typhus, caused by American bombing of the German supply lines. Many photos of emaciated victims and corpses displayed as Jewish were actually of German dead with changed captions.
There have never been greater crimes than the nuking of two Japanese cities and the firebombing of innocent war refugees in Dresden. Why is it that less than a century later, all we can remember is so-called Jewish descendants seeking to be paid for the suffering of their grandparents?
What is there so special about Jews that we can’t talk about them openly? Since the time of Cicero, we’ve had to whisper about them for fear of them. Such sentiments were also attributed to the character of Jesus.
The answer should be clear to anyone who has studied the problem for any length of time.
It is because they are constantly and perpetually robbing us, literally (more than you know) stealing us blind. And as a result, we ARE blind. We can’t see anything they do without seeking alternative sources, because their control of the media is nearly total.
From school to TV to movies to magazines, the message is: “Don’t believe. Screw your neighbor. Sell yourself. You’re worth nothing unless you do this.” And kids buy it. James Dean types. Kids have always bought it. That’s how Bernays got the women to smoke.
The billions of dollars that have been sucked out of so many countries for “Holocaust reparations” is all a con game, and people’s lives are being ruined simply for saying so. Jewish control of the court systems in all these countries is so complete that Colin Powell’s preposterous notion that anyone who speaks badly about Israel is anti-Semitic means that treason rules in the people who run our government. In fact, there is no U.S. government anymore; it is now a subsection of the Western Corporate Kibbutz of the Jewish terror state in occupied Palestine.
Now, the latest Jewish invention coming to the United States in the form of our latest hate crime law is an exciting new board game called “Tell the truth and go to jail.”
It’s something all you Hebrew wannabes out there should teach your children, especially on one of your many holy days that celebrates the slaughter of non-Jews.
(Apologies for not mentioning George Hansen, James Traficante, Dick Simkanin, Irwin Schiff and Nancy and Ed Brown, all vivid examples of the Galileo syndrome, along with so many other honest people — especially all the other Revisionists doing time in Jewish jails — who have paid the unfair price exacted by our Jewish masters for simply telling the truth.)

G. BRITAIN - Interview with political prisoner Hussain al-Samamra

J7 Exclusive: Interview with political prisoner Hussain al-Samamra

Hussain Al-Samamra is a Palestinian who sought political asylum in the UK eight years ago after suffering persecution and torture as a political prisoner in Jordan. He had settled into this country and was working legally, happily married and starting a family when his life was turned upside down in 2006. Having previously been arrested and released after five days in 2004 with no charge, Hussain was arrested once more in July 2006 after being asked to visit the police station regarding a crime that he himself had reported to the police. He was imprisoned for 2 years with no charge and no access to any of the evidence against him.
When he was finally released from jail, he was not allowed to return to his home, but was instead moved to an unfamiliar area with few ethnic minorities, where he suffered violent racial abuse. After being attacked on the street and taken to hospital, Hussain requested a move to avoid future such attacks. The Home Office moved Hussain to a completely different city, leaving his wife and child to make their own travel arrangements, into accommodation quite unfit for human habitation. This is where he and his family currently reside.
In this exclusive interview with J7, Hussain describes the devastating effect that his treatment at the hands of the supposedly democratic British state has had on his own life and the lives of those around him.
[Note: There may be grammatical errors in some of the responses but J7 did not want to change any of Hussain's words.]
Picture shows a meticulous Andalucian mosque made of matchsticks which took Hussain al-Samamra months to build, as exhibited at CAPTIVATED: The Art of the Interned
[ Picture above shows a meticulous Andalucian mosque made of matchsticks which took Hussain al-Samamra months to build, as exhibited at CAPTIVATED: The Art of the Interned ]

When did you come to the UK and what had happened in Jordan to make you seek political asylum?

I am a Palestinian. I came to the UK on 11th May 2001. In Jordan I was arrested in July 1997 for associating with a group called ''Baya't al imam''. This group is an Islamic group – an anti Jordanian government group.

Can you describe your life in the UK? Do you feel you had established a good life here?

My life in the UK was a good life before I got arrested twice. The first time was in 2004, the second time was on July 2006. 5 days after my first child was born. I think I had established a good life. I was a working man since 2001 until I was arrested. I got married. My wife and I were planning to have kids and be a happy family just like everyone else all over the world. I even started my own business. I paid my tax and national insurance contributions. Just 3 months after I started my business I got arrested again.

Can you describe the circumstances surrounding your arrests?

The circumstances were really bad enough to destroy a family who had just started their life with their new born baby. The baby we were waiting for. Setting up my new business had cost all my saving for five years of working very hard.

What reason were you given for your arrests?

The only reason I was given for my arrests was that my asylum case has been refused and I was a threat to a national security because of that I have to be deported to the country where I had fled from.

What do you think are the real reason for your arrests?

In the beginning I did not know what was the real reason behind my arrests but after I got into the prison, which was Long Lartin prison in an isolated unit I found 20 people who were arrested a year before me, all of them are from north African countries. Except one he is a Palestinian, Jordanian nationality. Because of this I think the government wanted to make their case stronger.

How many times were you questioned or allowed to make a statement regarding the circumstances of your arrests?

I have never been questioned regarding my arrests and never been asked to make a statement.

Can you describe the experience of being in prison, knowing that you were effectively living as a criminal despite being innocent in the eyes of British law?

My experience was very bad experience about being arrested in the first place for no crime I have committed. Secondly, being in the prison and treated as a criminal by officers who did not make any difference between a criminal or someone who never done any crime to be in the prison.

When you were made aware that your case would not be heard in an open court, but instead, in a secret (SIAC) court?

The first time in my life I heard about that my case is not going to be in an open court, but in a secret court called SIAC was after I get inside the prison and stayed with another 20 people whose cases were similar to my case.

Can you describe any evidence you have seen regarding the home office's case against you?

I can't describe no evidence, because I wasn't given no evidence to see. Every thing was in “closed”. Not me, not my solicitor, nor anyone who was defending me was allowed to see any evidence.

What were your feelings when you realised you would not have the opportunity to have charges put to you in a manner in which you could directly answer them and defend yourself?

My feelings were very bad. I felt that I was in one of the third world countries and under a dictatorship government because in my knowledge these kind of things only can happen in countries like Jordan or even Zimbabwe.

How did your situation affect your family whilst you were in prison and now whilst you live under a control order?

I am not under a control order. I am held on immigration bail which is a hundred times worse than a control order – far more restrictive. My situation has affected my family really badly, financially, physically and psychologically. I am only allowed out of my house for 5 hours a day in a restricted area. There are so many restrictions on me that I cannot list them here.
It was horrendous when I was in the prison, but now after been released and put under immigration bail conditions; life is getting worse and even more stressful. I can not take my daughter outside any time I want as any normal father can. I can not go out with my wife or even take her to a doctor or a hospital because I am not allowed to. In the same time I can not let my wife go out alone because the Home Office accommodated us in a very racist area. This meant that my wife and my daughter became prisoners with me for no crime we commit. My wife was racially abused on the street and she was terrified. Once this happened when I was with her and I tackled the racists and got hit on the head with a stun gun and ended up in hospital.

How does being under immigration bail affect your everyday life?

Living under immigration bail is like putting you in a cell with devils. It is like a bad dream without end. It makes me sometimes think life is worth nothing and means nothing. Life under these conditions is worse than life in a prison because in the prison you are allowed to go to education, to the gym, go to the library, to a doctor but on the outside you are not allowed to do anything I have mentioned unless you get a permission from the home office and this takes days or weeks, sometimes they refuse to give me a permission. When my father who I had not seen for 12 years came to visit me from Palestine he was not allowed to enter my house until he was vetted by the Home Office. When he arrived a stranger had to meet him at the airport and accommodate him for a week in another part of England before he could even visit my home and meet me and my family. He was very upset and cried a lot. He was shocked at his treatment in a country he thought upheld human rights. His time with me was restricted by the restrictions placed on me and he left very sad. When he arrived back home and he phoned me and said he felt that he had just been let out of prison.

You are fighting deportation back to a country where you had previously been tortured - if the deportation goes ahead, what do you believe will happen to you and your family?

It will be a disaster for me to be deported to Jordan and I will be tortured if not killed under torture because of two reasons. First reason because I fled the country running away from where I was wanted. Second reason because of the untrue information passed to the Jordanian authorities from the UK government. For my family they will really face a hard life if they are going to let them into Jordan especially because my wife is not a Jordanian citizen. I don't know what will happen to my wife and daughter. Can you imagine the nightmare of my situation?

Do you feel enough people in this country are doing anything about the situation?

No, I do not feel that there is enough people doing anything about the situation but in the same time I think that people in UK do not know anything about my situation or the others who are in the same situation as I am, simply because the government is trying really hard to keep everything in secret and unpublished.
There are a few supportive people who are aware of my situation and who try their best to help me. One is an English lady who went through Home Office vetting with her husband and children. Even her 12 year old daughter went through Home Office vetting to enter my house. She is a very special lady. I have also had great support from a lady from the Peace & Justice Organisation. HHUGS has also tried to help my wife and we appreciate all that is done for us. My main support comes from an honourable friend who stood by me from the beginning and is still standing by me. He is a special person to me. I will never be able to repay him for his kindness.
My message to the British public to try to not believe the media or what is written in the news paper about Muslims and to try to find out the truth and take a stand because I am with other 20 people with our families and are suffering day and night every minute, every second. Our children are isolated from other children for no crime I committed and I believe that the others are the same. And all what I am asking for is justice. And I am willing to stand in an open court as any human being in this country and if they found me guilty of any crime or any harm I have done to anyone, I will accept what ever the court decide. But I am an innocent man who was locked up in the prison for 2 years without accusing me of any crime without a fair trial.
J7 wishes to thank Hussain al-Samamra for the courage and bravery required to participate in this interview as his political persecution continues at the hands of the British State under the guise of supposed 'anti-terrorism'.

Bloody Bill Clinton

Bloody Bill Clinton

September 1, 2006

President Clinton may be in his final year of office but he leaves in his wake a trail of allegations that, if true, would rank him alongside some of history’s most notorious criminals. He has been implicated in cocaine use by none other than his younger brother Roger Clinton, himself a convicted drug trafficker. In an Arkansas State Police surveillance audio tape, obtained by freelance journalist Scott Wheeler, Roger Clinton can be heard describing how he smuggled large amounts of cocaine through airports. Most significant were his comments about the then Arkansas State Governor, “Got to get some for my brother; he’s got a nose like a vacuum cleaner.”
This is not just groundless speculation. In 1990 Sharlene Wilson, an informant for the Seventh Judicial drug task force in Arkansas, testified under oath that she had supplied Governor Bill Clinton with cocaine. Shortly thereafter the drug task force was closed down and Wilson herself was charged with drug violations. In 1992 she was sentenced to 31 years for selling half an ounce of marijuana and $100 worth of methamphetamine. Clinton’s misdemeanors amount to more than drug use though, much more. One of the first things Clinton did on assuming the presidency was to appoint Patsy Thomasson – a top lieutenant of convicted drug dealer Dan Lasater – as White House chief of personnel. Clinton then installed his friend Webster Hubbel as “shadow” Attorney General, until Hubbel was jailed for fraud. Prior to his becoming assistant Attorney General he had been over billing clients at the Rose Law firm, in Little Rock Arkansas, where he had been a partner with Hilary Clinton.
Then we have the “suicide” of Vincent Foster. As reported in The SPOTLIGHT, featured in the previous edition of The Seeker, Forster had been deeply disturbed by events at Waco and had been in the process of preparing a potentially damming report. So Clinton had good reason to want him out of the way and as many suspect his death was not a suicide; eyewitness accounts by police and ambulance crew members who recovered Foster’s body and official autopsy findings are distinctly at odds. One of the reasons that Clinton has been able to get away with so much is the compliance of the mainstream media. As one of the few journalist’s who has covered Clinton’s time in office with any honesty and insight, Ambrose Pritchard-Evans noted:
“The Washington press corps has chosen not to report this sort of thing, of course, because it always gives more weight to the utterings of an “official” source, with a title, than it does to the testimony of a common citizen.”
As a result Clinton has been allowed to get away with murder, almost literally. Yet he is guilty of far more. He has been implicated in rape, sexual assault, mass murder (Waco) and, as we detailed in a previous issue, War crimes in Iraq and the former Yugoslavia. Indeed it is no exaggeration to say that history may well place Bill Clinton alongside the likes of Nero and Caligula. Here then is a list of people who have been connected in some way with Bill Clinton and who have died in rather suspicious circumstances:
1) Susan Coleman: said to have had an affair with Clinton before he became President. Told friends she was expecting his child and was 7 months pregnant when she found dead with a gunshot wound to the head. Verdict, suicide.
2)Larry Guerrin: killed while investigating the INSLAW case. In brief this involved the US Justice Department using stolen software, modifying it for intelligence purposes and then selling it to foreign governments and making millions in the process.
3) Kevin Ives and Don Henry: two 16 year old boys who may have stumbled across drug running operations involving Clinton at Mena airfield in Arkansas in 1987.Initial reports, by State Medical Examiner Fahmy Malak, suggested that the boys had fallen asleep on the railway line and been crushed. However when the parents kicked up a fuss another forensic report showed Kevin’s skull had been crushed prior to being placed on the track whilst Don had been stabbed in the back.
4) Keith Coney said he had information on Ives and Henry deaths. Died in a high-speed motorcycle crash in 1989,said to have involved a car chase.
5) Keith McKaskle, said to have information on the Ives and Henry deaths. Stabbed to death in November 1988.
6) Gregory Collins, once again said to have information on the Ives and Henry deaths and once again killed, this time by a gunshot wound to the face.
7) Jeff Rhodes was also said to have information on the deaths of Ives and Henry.He was found on a waste heap in April 1989 with a gunshot wound to the head.
8. James Milam also had information on the Ives and Henry deaths but before he could talk too widely he was found decapitated. Once again the State Medical Examiner, Fahmy Malak, ruled the death due to natural causes.
9) Richard Winters, a suspect in the Ives and Henry case had offered to cooperate and give evidence. However he died in a ‘robbery’, which was subsequently proved to have been a set-up.
10) Jordan Kettleson was also said to have information on the Ives and Henry deaths. He was found shot dead in his pick-up in June 1990.
11) Danny Casalaro, a journalist investigating Mena airstrip, the Arkansas coke trade and INSLAW. Had warned his family that he had learnt too much and not to believe it was suicide if he turned up dead. Shortly thereafter he was found in a bathtub in the Sheraton Hotel in Martinsburg, West Virginia. Both his wrists had been slashed, one ten times, all his research material was missing and has never been recovered
12) Victor Raiser, the National Co-Chair for the “Clinton for President” campaign, died in an airplane crash in July, 1992.
13) R Montgomery Raiser also worked on the Clinton campaign and died in the same crash.
14) Ian Spiro, said to have supporting documentation for grand jury proceedings in the INSLAW case. His wife and three children were found murdered in their home in November 1992.All had gunshot wounds to the head. Ian’s body later was found in a car in the Borrego Desert. FBI reports concluded that he had shot his family and then committed suicide by taking cyanide.
15) Paula Grober, Clinton’s speech interpreter for the deaf. Killed in car smash with no other cars involved and no witnesses. She is said to have been very attractive and traveled extensively with Clinton prior to her death in December 1992. All the above died prior to Clinton’s inauguration in January 1993.In its aftermath the deaths not only continued but became even more numerous.
16) Steve Willis, Robert Williams, Todd McKeahan and Conway LeBleu were the only four BAFT men killed at Waco.In an autopsy performed by a “private Doctor” all four were found to have near identical “execution style” head wounds. All four had previously been bodyguards for Clinton prior to their deaths in April 1993.
17) Sgt. Brian Haney, Sgt.Tim Sabel, Maj. William Barkley and Capt. Scott Reynolds. Once again all four men had been bodyguards for Clinton prior to their deaths in a helicopter crash near Quantico, Va. Reporters were barred from the scene whilst firefighters responding to the crash had their video tapes seized and a fire cheif described a scene where, “security was tight” with “lots of marines with guns.”
18) Paul Wilcher was found dead shortly after presenting Attorney General Janet Reno with a report on Waco, death ruled to “unknown causes.” See extracts from the report in this issue.
19) White House deputy counsel Vincent Foster was said to have been preparing a potentially damming report on Waco at the time of his death. As reported in the previous issue he had been deeply disturbed by events at Waco and his death, in July 1993, was officially labeled a “suicide.”.
20) Stanley Heard and Steven Dickson were members of Clinton’s Health Advisory Committee. Both died in an air crash in September 1993.
21) Jerry Luther Parks, Chief of Security at Clinton’s national campaign headquarters in Little Rock. He was shot through the rear window of his car, the killer then went to the driver’s side of Park’s car and pumped three more 9mm bullets into him. His family reported that shortly before his death their home had been broken into, despite a top line security system. Park’s had been preparing a dossier on Clinton’s activities, the dossier was stolen.
22) Ed Willey, a Clinton fundraiser, was found shot dead in November 1993.Once again the death was ruled suicide. His wife Kathleen, who was working as a White House volunteer at the time, claimed that Clinton sexually assaulted her when she had approached him, distraught over the loss of her husband.
Indeed allegations of sexual assault and even rape go back a long way with Clinton.As far back as 1969 in fact when Clinton was still a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford University. A retired State Department employee said he believed a young English woman who claimed she had been raped by Clinton.
“There was no doubt in my mind that this young woman had suffered severe emotional trauma,” he said. “But we were under tremendous pressure to aviod the embarrassment of having a Rhodes Scholar charged with rape. I filed a report with my superiors and that was the last I heard of it.”
She is not the only woman who has accused Clinton of rape. Early in 1999 Juanita Broaddrick, an Arkansas woman who worked on Clinton’s campaign when he was attorney general in 1978, told NBC that he had raped her.Claiming pressure from the White House NBC shelved the report.
Then we have the case of Elizabeth Ward, a former Miss Arkansas who claimed that Clinton had forced himself on her shortly after she won the State crown. In 1999 she told an interviewer that she did have sex with him but that it was consensual; she later recanted saying that she had been threatened by Clinton supporters into claiming the sex was consensual. And still the killings go on…
23) Dr Roland Rogers a Dentist from Arkansas. Died on his way to the Sunday Telegraph in London to reveal “sensitive” information about Clinton in March 1994
24) Kathy Furguson, a 38-year-old hospital worker whose ex-husband was a co-defendant in the Paula Jones case. She died in May 1994, from a gunshot wound to the head, ruled suicide; curiously next to the body were several packed suitcases, as if she was getting ready to go somewhere.
25) Bill Shelton was Kathy’s boyfriend and an Arkansas police officer. He was found on her grave the following month with a gunshot wound to the back of the head. Judged to be “suicide”.
26) Alan G Whither, oversaw Clinton’s Secret Service detail. He was transferred to a field office in Oklahoma City in October 1994.Whatever warning was given to the other BAFT agents in the building (none of whom came to work that day) failed to reach him, he died on April 19 1995 in the infamous Oklahoma City bomb blast. Incidentally the families of the victims of the blast are now preparing to sue the U.S. Government, saying it had prior knowledge of the bombing.
27) Ron Brown, Commerce Secretary died along with 35 other people on April 3,1996, in an air crash involving Airforce 2. At the time of his death Brown was being investigated and had spoken publicly of his willingness to cut a deal with prosecuters. According to one report he allegedly told Clinton, “he was not going down alone.” However his death brought that possibility to an abrupt end. A pathologist close to the investigation reported that there was a hole in the back of Brown’s head that resembled a gunshot wound. And we are not counting the other 35 people who died in the same crash.
28) Shelly Kelly, an Air Force stewardess was onboard the same flight, at the back of the plane, and suffered only minor cuts and bruises in the crash. Indeed she was able to board a rescue helicopter without assistance. She died later died in hospital, supposedly from a loss of blood. According to journalist Joe L Jordan, an autopsy revealed a three inch cut over her main femoral artery which was sustained over three hours after all her other cuts and bruises. Thereafter Clinton ordered the bodies of all the victims cremated.
29) Barbara Wise, a Commerce Department employee. She was found dead in her locked office, partially nude and covered in bruises, following a long weekend. Officially she is said to have died of natural causes.
30) Christine M Mirzayan, Clinton intern killed on August 1 1998.In the publicity prior to the Paula Jones law suit Newsweek revealed that “a former White House staffer” with the initial “M” was about to go public with a story about sexual harassment at the White House. Thereafter Christine was found beaten to death with a heavy object near Georgetown University, Washington.
31) Mary Mahoon was another former White House intern who was about to go public with a story of sexual harassment at the White House. Before she could though some unknown characters entered a Washington Starbuck’s, where she was working, and shot her dead. Her two assistants’, Aaron Goodrich, 18 and Emory Evans were taken to a room along with Mary and pumped full of bullets. Mary was shot in the chest, face and back of the head, probably with silencers as nobody in the densely populated area heard anything. Even though the killers left $4000 in the cashbox untouched, the police categorized the killings as a robbery whilst acknowledging its “execution style”.
As reported in the previous issue of the Seeker four members of Delta Force have recently died in training “accidents”. They were Lt Col Anthony A. Boyles and Sgt Eric Ellingson, killed in river “training accidents.” Master Sgt Gaetano Cutino, killed while “exiting” from a helicopter. And Sgt Jamey Dimase killed while participating in marksmanship training. These were the men who had actually gone into the Branch Davidian compound at Waco and carried out the killings of 86 men, women and children. These men were hardened professional killers, yet even they had been disturbed by what they had been ordered to do and actually done. So much so that given immunity from prosecution they had been prepared to come forward and testify. Although Paul Wilcher does not name them in his report these were the very individuals whose testimony could have demolished Clinton’s Presidency.
The Wilcher Report was buried along with Paul Wilcher and for a while things went on as before, in other words the killings went on and on. Then in 1999 the Wilcher Report resurfaced, when Attorney General Janet Reno was told she expressed “total anger”. According to unnamed eyewitnesses quoted in the Drudge Report: “Her face was flushed, she was clearly shaken.” In the following months the four Delta Force men all died in “training accidents”: to quote Paul Wilcher, “to silence their testimony forever.”
Gennifer Flowers was a bit smarter. She had a 12 year affair with Clinton, in its aftermath her apartment was broken into and ransacked and she and her mother received threatening phone calls. Realising that she was in danger she assumed a higher profile, launched legal proceedings against Clinton and embarked on a series of media appearances. Smart girl, it was probably this that saved her life, had she not done so she too would have been on this list. Finally it should be noted that this is only a partial list, for a more comprehensive picture we would refer you to some of the sources listed below.

Sources include:
Daniel Harris and Teresa Hampton,Capitol Hill Blue
Ambrose Pritchard-Evans writing in The Telegraph and the Sunday Telegraph.
The Drudge Report
www.Sudden Instant death Syndrome

Tuesday, March 27, 2012


Chapter XI

Memories, fantastically beautiful memories of that other infinitely greater lost world, haunted me for days. I was like a different person. In the light of my new understanding my conception of all things was changed. I viewed everything from a new perspective. Thus I felt more than ever like a stranger here upon Earth.

One afternoon when I was in downtown Los Angeles I stood on a street corner and watched the hurrying throngs of people. All was so earnestly intent upon personal ambitions, pleasure, frivolities, worries and personal problems and so completely wrapped up in their own private worlds. Few even so much as noticed their fellow-beings on the streets. It was as though each person lived a world apart; encased in a tomb of separateness and living death. Like shadows they hurried busily on their separate ways lost in dreams of unreality.
I realized in truth each went his way alone; even those nearest and dearest to him never really touched the deeper core of his aloneness. This is the tragedy of his mortality. Things seem pleasant enough on the surface. Earth with its flowers, trees, sunshine; the cities with their paved streets and fine buildings; the trim houses with their neat lawns--all appear fair enough. But it is like a mirage, for the material world is a prison world where each man is a bondsman locked in a prison cell. The prison cells cannot be opened from without.
Greatly saddened, I took my car from the parking lot and drove home. A storm was brewing and already a fine mist of rain was in the air. I left my car at home and walked down by the Los Angeles River where the waters were beginning to flow in the dry and dusty riverbed.
All of nature seemed waiting, quiet and tremulous, for the life-giving drops of precious water that would drench the sun-baked land and give new life to the dying trees and parched hills.
The dense clouds were dark and ominous over-head. How symbolic, I thought, of our isolation from the rest of the universe. Spiritual intelligences throughout time and space dwell in unity, communicating throughout the universe, all a part of the great harmony of the Father; but man here on his tiny planet is cut off from contact with those other worlds and fully content to vision himself grandiosely as the higher intelligence in the universe.
If only we could realize how wrong we are! We exist here on our world in a kind of solitary confinement. Our much vaunted atmosphere is one of the bars that prevents us from escaping from our prison world. Also, to a great extent, it prevents contact with outside intelligences; for most of our radio and television waves are bounced back down to us by the many layers of ionized gases in our atmosphere and beyond. Hence it is much more difficult for us here on this planet to establish outer space contacts than for most other planets.
Why is this so? Why are we so completely isolated and cut off from contact with the rest of the universe?
I turned for home as the full fury of the storm broke. An onslaught of wind lashed the trees, stripping the dead leaves and branches from them. The rain came down in torrents and it was one of the rare occasions when lightning flashed in the California sky and the thunder rumbled ominously. At each flash of lightning my entire body quivered in pain. I reached home soaking wet and went to bed.
In the following weeks I continued with my weekly lectures at the Hollywood Hotel, but I was dissatisfied with my effort. I felt I was reaching comparatively few people when I should be contacting so many more.
Then in September, 1953, Paul Vest's first article about my trip in the flying saucer was published in MYSTIC magazine. Immediately letters began coming from all over the United States and even from Mexico and Canada. I was amazed at the public interest and the general acceptance of my story. It appeared that intuitively many persons had been prepared for the account.
Because of the article I was contacted by long distance telephone by a man in the East who is a well-known evangelist. His broadcasts over a large radio network a week. He told me in all good faith that in answer to his prayer for guidance after reading the article in MYSTIC, he had been shown a sign in the skies. The "sign" was the sudden appearance of a flying disk phenomenon above him while he prayed. He stated that he was so deeply impressed with what he saw that he drove immediately to the State Police barracks and notified the captain of the troop. The captain also witnessed the strange phenomenon and ordered an airplane to be sent aloft to investigate. But before the plane was off the ground the phenomenon vanished. Thus, he said he was absolutely convinced of the authenticity of my story. He invited me to visit him in the East and make a number of appearances there.
Since I had already given up my job, we were low on funds at the time. He forwarded me one hundred dollars to cover part of our expenses on the trip East. He also enclosed a contract in which he agreed to pay me for each lecture. My purpose in going East was to reach a much greater audience, but even the humblest of God's creatures must have sustenance for their bodies. And surely a workman, even in God's work, is worthy of his hire.
Most of the audiences in the east were enthusiastic and highly receptive to the message of the saucers. I was happy in the belief that I had sown many seeds of understanding about the space visitors. But the minister of the gospel on whose word I had made the trip, failed me completely. He has not up until the present time (one year later) paid me for my expense and time. In fact, he was content to desert me in the East far from home and relatives and leave me stranded there penniless. His name? Does it matter?
The final lecture in Buffalo was the most successful of any of the engagements. People came from as far away as Canada, completely filling the large auditorium. Thus, from a material standpoint Christianity had thrown me from the heights, but spiritually it had sustained me stronger than ever. Also, I was beginning to learn an important lesson. The hypocrites will invariably crucify, but the truly faithful will always redeem. Actually, the hypocrites far outnumber the true. But God and only one is indeed a vast majority. Similarly, space visitors and a few are also a majority. The absolute truth of these last two statements are forever settled in my own mind.
Without funds and stranded in the East, we finally got financial help from relatives, and also an invitation to visit our folks back in New Jersey. Our spirits, which had dropped to a low ebb, began to pick up. Thus we were in an almost joyful, holiday mood as the boys, Mabel and I piled the suitcases into the car and headed for Trenton. We stayed with my father-in law, Alfred Borgianni, on Kuser Road, close to the spot where I had once sent aloft balloons with the mold cultures in personal experiments, not knowing my work was being observed.
Our reunion with family and friends was a joyful one. We were invited everywhere and were kept out almost every night until a late hour. We quickly forgot our hardships and disappointments of the past weeks and joined in the happy, pulsating life around us. But I certainly never dreamed that there, close to my old home, I should have another experience with the extraterrestrials.

Chapter X


One evening in December about midnight I was returning to "Pop's" Borgianini lives on the outshirts of town in a pleasant suburban area of average homes and small acreage farms. Clouds were overhead, but it was not a particularly dark night as there was considerable reflected light from the city.

I drove into the yard and parked my car in my usual spot. As I sat in the car for a moment breathing the clean, freah air and looking out over the twinkling lights of the countryside, I heard a familiar voice call my name. Surprised, I glanced around to see a tall, well-built figure approaching from a shadowed corner of the yard. Because I was so completely unprepared for such a meeting, it took me a moment to collect my thoughts and realize that the familiar voice could be none other than that of Neptune. As he came nearer to the car I could see him fairly well in the soft light. He appeared just has he that night down by the Los Angeles River. His closely-fitted "uniform" wavered like restless clouds of light and shadow.
But somehow I felt altogether different meeting him now; there was none of the eerie feeling I had experienced upon the occasion of our first meeting.
He seemed he seemed to feel much as I did, for he said cheerfully: "A merry Christmas to you, Orfeo." His warm, radiant smile was still the same, as was his noble bearing and everything else about him; yet I was able to comprend and understand him so much more easily now. I wondered, has he desended closer to my level, or had I, since my strange "awakening" in that other world, risen nearer to his?
He answered the question for me . "You are indeed a dweller in two worlds now, Orfeo. Sometimes it is difficult for you to determine which world is subtance and which is shadow, or if both are not merely differing degrees of subtance. But you have done well, considering all that you have been through these last two years. In In reality you are now liberated from your planet, Earth and are a citizen of the cosmos. For seven Earth days you were conscious in our world as it existed in Time, while I kept watch over your physical body its normal duties here on Earth. Thus in a way I am a part of you even as you are a part of me. There now exist eternal bonds of understanding between us"
As he spoke, I thought of a puzzling statement he had made to me during our first meeting. It was that memorable night down by the Los Angeles River. I distinctly remembered that he had said: "We shall return, dear friend, but not to you." I remembered the words so well because I had been so saddened to hear them. Thus I looked at him now I was thinking that his very presence there seemed to belie those words.
He smiled again and said gently: "In reality we have not returned to you, Orfeo. You came to us. When you awakened as one of us, you had come home. Don't you understand? We are not returning to the shadow, Orfeo; our lost brother has returned to us. And from our first contact with you we never in reality ever left you."
I grasped the meaning of his words, for I well knew I was no longer the same person who, confused and bewildered, had stepped half-fearfully into the saucer that night under the Hyperion Avenue Bridge. "Yes," I replied thoughtfully. "What you say is true. Earth to me now often seems like strange land where I have been a prisoner who has forgotten his native home."
But you are nolonger a prisoner, Orfeo. You have broken the chains of matter. Thus can you realize that you were a prisoner--and that realization is all important. The vast majority of Earth's people never dream of their true status."



Chapter VIII

It was in the late summer of 1953 that the most beautiful and revealing of all of my experiences with the etheric beings developed. My life had been a kaleidoscope of new understandings and changing patterns since the night of my trip in the saucer, but apparently the most profound of all had to be revealed to my conscious mind in gradual steps of understanding, because the experience itself actually occurred in January of 1953 while I was still on the job at Lockheed, but it was not until six months later that I had any idea of the tremendous experience that had been mine. During those bewildering intervening six months I honestly believed that for seven days of my life in January, 1953 I had been a victim of complete amnesia. I told no one about it, not even Mabel, for so many confounding things had happened in the recent months of my life that I feared further complicating matters by relating an experience for which there seemed to be no explanation.
During those six months I experienced many very strange and disquieting hours. Vivid dreams of a hauntingly beautiful, half-familiar world troubled my sleep. Sometimes I would awaken trembling and bathed in perspiration feeling that I was close to conscious remembrance of an exquisitely beautiful experience that would explain many things. Also, frequently during the days, fleeting, tenuous memories drifted into the borderland of my consciousness.
Even more perplexing were those occasions when, while speaking to groups of persons at the Hollywood Hotel, I felt as though I were being somehow overshadowed by another greater personality; a personality who thought neither in my familiar English or Italian, but in a strange language which it seemed I once knew but now could no longer remember.
In order to clarify the experience itself, I must go back to that day in January, 1953 when it began. I did not go to work that afternoon as I was just recovering from the flu, but I was feeling so much better that I believed I could go back on the job the following day. Mabel was at work at the cafe and I was alone. About four o'clock a rather strange, detached feeling came over me. I was aware of a familiar odd prickling sensation in my arms and the back of my neck which usually announced the proximity of space craft.
I discounted the strange symptoms thinking they were only the result of my illness. Then suddenly I began to feel so drowsy that I could scarcely keep my eyes open. I remember starting toward the divan to lie down for a nap, but I later had absolutely no recollection of reaching that divan.
My next conscious perception was a peculiar "awakening" or regaining consciousness while on my job in the Plastics Department at Lockheed. Stupefied and bewildered I looked uncertainly about the factory. Dazedly, I recognized the familiar faces of my co-workers...and noticed the tools in my hands. I caught my breath sharply and an icy shiver quivered over my entire body as quite involuntarily I recoiled with a shudder from the entire scene. I didn't know why then, but everything seemed hopelessly wrong, primitive and crude.
In a daze I rubbed a hand across my eyes hoping to eradicate the scene. Then I was seized with a blinding vertigo and thought I was going to lose consciousness. Dave Donnegan, my working partners, looked at me sympathetically, and there was genuine concern in his eyes. He didn't say anything, but quietly took the tools from my hand and in his quiet, understanding way went ahead, carrying on alone.
An involuntary outburst of utter disgust came from my lips, disgust with everything I saw. It seemed like the Dark Ages. I remember hearing Dave say: "Are you all right, boy?"
I didn't reply; I couldn't! In panic I turned to rush out of the door. In my bland haste I bumped roughly into Richard Butterfield, the temporary lead man in my section. I must have looked acutely ill because I vaguely remember seeing the alarm in his eyes as he grasped me firmly but gently by the shoulders and exclaimed: "Angie! Angie! What's wrong with you!"
I was breathing hard. Both emotionally and mentally I was confused and uncertain. My
thoughts were in turmoil. I had only one objective; to get out of that place! But the presence of Butterfield had a stabilizing, quieting effect upon me.
He smiled reassuringly while keeping his hands upon my shoulders. "Clam down, Angie, old boy," he said gently. "Go upstairs and take a break. You look beat!"
I mumbled my heartfelt thanks and stumbled up the steps, not yet aware of what actually had happened to me.
I got a cup of coffee. Never before had I needed one so badly. My hands were shaking and every nerve in my body was quivering. As I drank the hot, aromatic stuff I tried to think back, to remember why I was so shaken and upset. But my last recollection before my strange, perturbed "awakening" on the job, was walking toward the divan in my apartment The intervening period was a total blank.
Noticing a copy of the Los Angeles Times on one of the tables, I nervously picked it up and glanced at the date. Perspiration broke out on my forehead: the date of the paper was January 19, 1953. Seven days had elapsed of which I had absolutely no recollection! But even the date on the paper couldn't convince me. Trying to keep my voice casual, I asked a worker at a nearby table. He confirmed the date on the newspaper.
My body was bathed in cold perspiration. I was on the edge of panic as I sat there, my hands trembling so that I could hardly take a sip of coffee. I couldn't believe that seven days and nights had passed, leaving not a trace of memory in my mind.
Later in the afternoon when I was feeling a little better I went back downstairs on the job. But it was a real effort to behave in a normal, rational manner with my thoughts in turmoil. Cautiously and discreetly I questioned Dave and other fellow workers about those seven previous days. From their replies I gathered that I had been on the job every day and had apparently behaved in my usual manner until my strange"awakening and violent outburst that afternoon.
At home I didn't mention my inexplicable loss of memory to Mabel. And apparently she had noticed nothing unusual in my behavior during that entire week. It seemed that in every way I had behaved in my accustomed manner. I had eaten my meals, slept, gone to and from work and helped
Mabel out at the Snack Bar, as usual. It was fantastically incredible!
I told no one what had happened to me. But in my own mind I was utterly baffled and deeply troubled about those seven lost days out of my life. Imagine yourself in my place. Suppose that for an entire week your waking consciousness had been obliterated so that you could not remember a single event. Wouldn't you be deeply disturbed? Wouldn't you begin to wonder if you might not be psychopathic? In all sincerity I can tell that you would, for those were my own panic-stricken thoughts.
But as the days passed I gradually settled down into the routine of daily life. Often I tried hard to regain the memory of those seven lost days, but it seemed hopeless.
Months passed and I had about decided that for those seven days I had suffered from complete loss of memory. Except for the disquieting thoughts and vivid dreams, I had no intimation of what was coming until that memorable night in the first week in September, 1953.
I was feeling unusually restless that evening. Shortly after ten o'clock I went out for a walk. As always, my feet seemed involuntarily to carry me toward the Hyperion Avenue Freeway Bridge. In its dark, mysterious shadows I always found a kind of spiritual peace and comfort, for it was there I had met and talked with Neptune, the man from another world!
I was thinking of these things as I clambered down the concrete embankment into the almost dry bed of the Los Angeles River. Walking over to the spot where Neptune had talked with me, I sat down disconsolately upon the ground. I rested my head upon the stone where he had sat, and gazed thoughtfully up into the heavens and thought of the spiraling, endless wonders of the universe. Lost in reverie, a feeling of deep inner peace and tranquillity came over me. Noisy, clattering Earth with all of its troubles, dissensions and animosities seemed remote and relatively unimportant.
As my thoughts drifted pleasantly, I felt again the odd sensation which was always my first awareness of space visitors. But I was deeply puzzled, for Neptune had last told me: "We will return, Orfeo; but not to you."

Nevertheless the odd tingling in my arms and back of my neck was unmistakable. hopefully, my eyes scanned the heavens. I saw nothing that in any way resembled a saucer. The intensity of the vibration increased, dimming the awareness of my conscious mind much as it had the night I had first encountered the saucer.
As in a dream my thoughts drifted back to that mysterious Monday afternoon six months before when, feeling much as I did now, I had walked toward the divan to take a nap. An astonishing thing was happening: I was beginning to remember, faintly, hazily, at first, like the sun's golden rays breaking through black clouds.
As memory flooded back I clearly recalled again that Monday afternoon. I was walking towards the divan...my eyes were so heavy I could scarcely keep them open. In a daze I sank down upon the divan and immediately fell into a deep sleep!
Only now I could remember waking from that sleep! My awakening was in a strange and wonderful world! I was no longer upon Earth; some fantastic transition had taken place. I awoke in a huge, fabulously beautiful room; a room the substance of which glowed ethereally with soft, exquisite colors. I was lying upon a luxurious couch, or lounge. Half awake, I glanced down at my body - but it was not familiar! My body was never so perfectly proportioned or of so fine coloring and texture.
I noticed that I was wearing only a fine white garment, closely fitted and covering my chest, torso and upper part of my thighs. A finely wrought gold belt was about my waist. Although the belt appeared to be made of heavy links of embossed gold, it was without weight. My new body felt amazingly light and ethereal and vibrant with life.
Full consciousness did not come to me at once. My first thoughts upon waking in that shining world were nebulous. Somehow the thought persisted in my mind that I was recovering from a long and serious illness. Thus I reclined there in a kind of pleasant lethargy as one does who has been very ill. Random thoughts drifted in my consciousness. Everything was so new and different and yet it was hauntingly familiar. My handsome new body was not my body, and yet it was! The exquisite room with its ethereal, softly glowing colors was like nothing ever dreamed of upon Earth, and yet somehow it was not strange and alien to me. Only one thing seemed unfamiliar: far away outside the huge, windowless room I could hear the continuous rumble of distant thunder. Oddly enough the thunder did not fill me with apprehension as had always been the case in the past.
Gradually the dark mists began clearing from my mind. Incredible memories were coming back to me; memories of another world, a different people - another life! Lost horizons, deep-buried memories, forgotten vistas were surfacing to my consciousness.
"I remember this world!" I thought rapturously. "I remember it in the same way that a condemned prisoner remembers the sunshine, the trees, the flowers of the outside world after an eternity chained in a dark and odious prison. This is my real world, my true body. I have been lost in a dimension called Time and a captive in a forbidding land called Earth. But now, somehow, I have come home. All is serenity, peace, harmony and indescribable beauty here. The only disturbing factor is a troublesome half-memory of an unhappy shadow named Orfeo, a bondsman in a prison-world of materiality called Earth.
As the disturbing thoughts of this lost Orfeo troubled me, a portion of one wall noiselessly divided making an imposing doorway, and a woman entered. She was dazzlingly beautiful. Somehow my mind understood that she was the one in whose charge I was placed, even as I also understood that the mysterious door opened and closed automatically by means of electro-magnetic controls.
She looked down at me and smiled warmly. Her beauty was breath-taking. She was dressed simply in a kind of Grecian gown of glowing silvery-white substance; her hair was golden and fell in soft waves about her shoulders; her eyes were extremely large, expressive and deep blue. Soft shimmering colors played continuously about her, apparently varying with every slight change of her thought or mood.
Hauntingly, the thought was in my mind that I remembered her from somewhere. She seemed to sense my perplexity and reassuringly said that I was looking very well and would soon be up and about. Then she touched a control on a crystal cabinet near my bed. In response a large section of the opposite wall opened revealing a huge mirror. I looked into its crystal depths, but the man I saw was not Orfeo; nor yet was he a stranger to me. Paradoxically, I remembered and yet I didn't remember!
"I have gained weight," I remarked, not knowing just why I made such a statement, then added: "Also, I feel much better now."
She smiled and replied: "On the contrary, you have lost weight. According to all Earthly standards you are now almost weightless."
Her strange words puzzled me. I glanced down at my body which appeared to be solidly substantial in addition to being much larger and more finely proportioned
"It's all a matter of the scale of vibration in which you are functioning," she explained. "The vibratory rate of dense matter which makes up the planet Earth is extremely low, hence Earthly bodies are sluggish, dense and cumbersome. Vibratory rates here are quite high and matter so tenuous that it would seem non-existent were you in a dense physical body. Because you are now in a body of a corresponding vibratory rate, the phenomena of this world is as real to you as your Earth world."
As I listened to her speak, I thought I remembered her name. "You are Lyra?" I said half questioningly.
She nodded her head.
I was about to ask her about herself when I was conscious again of the continuous, low rumble of thunder from outside. I became curious to go out of doors and look around. Turning to Lyra, I asked: "May I go outside now?"
She shook her head. "You are not yet strong enough, but I promise that before the seventh day you shall see all, Neptune."
Her words startled me. Why had she called me Neptune? I wondered. I was not Neptune; neither was Neptune ill! And what did she mean by the seventh day?
I was about to ask her these questions when she turned and looked expectantly toward the far wall. In a moment the mysterious door appeared and a tall, strikingly handsome man entered. It was Orion! In some confused way I recognized him at once and felt a surge of affection for him in my heart. As with Lyra, shimmering waves of translucent color played about him, seemingly reflecting his thoughts. He smiled warmly and said: "We have missed you, Neptune."
I brushed my hand across my eyes in a dazed way as I replied: "But I am not Neptune; there is some mistake."
"Are you certain?" he asked gently. "You will recall that Neptune was the name you gave to our brother who first contacted you upon Earth. That name has always held a strange, deep significance for you, perhaps because it was once your own name."
As he spoke the odd realization possessed me that he was indeed speaking the truth. In their world, I was, or had once been, Neptune! "But the other Neptune?" I asked. "Who, then, is he?"
Orion glanced at Lyra and a scintillating wave of golden light enfolded them both. Orion replied slowly: With us names are of little significance. The brother of whom you speak was in the illusion of the past known as Astra, but in the higher octaves of light, individualized aspects such as you know upon Earth are non-existent. Even now as we manifest in this most tenuous of material states of being, you are not aware of us in our true eternal aspect. We are, you might say in terms of Earth, staging a dress-show reception for you, our lost brother. Before the Destruction our existence was much as you see it now; that is why you seem to remember all of this. In that phase of the time dimension you were known as Neptune."
Something was wrong, terribly wrong, somewhere. I thought. If only I could remember clearly...but everything was so confused. As I gazed at those two superbly magnificent beings standing side by side enveloped in shimmering waves of golden light, I felt intuitively that I had known them well, sometime, somewhere! I had known them on an equal level - I had been one of them! But now they were like gods to me, and I a straggler, somehow far, far behind them, my mind deluded by a loathsome illness. I pressed my hands to my eyes, trying with all of my strength to remember something important - and terrible - that I had forgotten.
Neither of them spoke. Lyra took a white wafer from the crystal cabinet while Orion poured a sparkling liquid into a lavender crystal goblet. These they handed to me. I ate the delicately flavored wafer and drank the delicious beverage. I felt renewed vitality and strength flow through my body and with it a dreamy languor of mind. Lyra and Orion smiled upon me and the scintillating waves of golden light reached out from them and enfolded me in a warm comforting glow.
"Sleep for a while, Neptune," Lyra murmured softly. Then the mysterious door appeared and they left arm in arm, leaving me alone. The light in the room dimmed and waves of soft, exquisite music flowed from the walls. I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When I awoke light was streaming brilliantly into the room. One entire wall had miraculously vanished revealing an outer balcony. I sat up and looked out beyond the balcony upon an incredibly wonderful and fantastic world. It was radiant with light and yet there appeared to be a heavy moving cloud bank overhead. Continuous sheet lightning flashed through the rainbow-hued clouds and the constant rumble of distant thunder was slightly louder. Also, I saw brilliant slow-moving fireballs, bollides, varied-colored flares and showers of brilliant sparks.
I was deeply puzzled, for all of this phenomena did not seem at all familiar as had so many other things in this world. I jumped up from the couch and ran out onto the broad balcony, marveling at the wonderful feeling of lightness and vibrant strength in my body.
What a glorious world I looked upon! A dream world, beyond the wildest flight of imagination. Ethereal, scintillating color everywhere. Fantastically beautiful buildings constructed of a kind of crystal-plastic substance that quivered with continuously changing color hues. As I watched, windows, doors, balconies and stairs appeared and just as miraculously disappeared in the shining facades of the buildings. The grass, trees and flowers sparkled with living colors that seemed almost to glow with a light of their own.
I caught my breath in awe. And yet, somehow, it was familiar; a world I had once known, and forgotten! A few statuesque and majestically beautiful people were walking in the pedestrian lanes. No vehicles of any type were visible. Then I saw Lyra and Orion conversing with each other near a large circular flower garden, almost directly below me. They both looked up and smiled, calling out a friendly greeting. I ran down and joined them exclaiming: "What a magnificent world!"
"Do you remember it, Neptune? Lyra asked gently.
I hesitated, then replied: "Much is familiar, but other things are not. I can't recall the lightning and the constant thunder. And the horizon appears to be only about a mile distant and it should be - I seem to remember it was almost limitless!"
For a moment there was deep silence. Lyra glanced questioningly at Orion and a look of deep pain crossed their faces as the golden waves of iridescent light about them changed to misty purple. I realized immediately I had said the wrong thing.
Lyra touched a crystal she held in her hand and the sound of the thunder was muffled until it was barely audible. Then drifts of exquisite harmony filled the air; the same ethereal music I had heard in my trip in the saucer - only here in this incredible world each tone also manifested in the atmosphere as waves of glowing color.
I listened and watched spellbound. Lyra and Orion sat down upon the grass and motioned for me to join them. When we were seated Lyra laid her hand tenderly upon mine and Orion put an arm about my shoulders.
Then Orion spoke, saying: "Time is a dimension as your scientists now correctly surmise. But it is only a dimension when applied to the various densities of matter. In the absolute, or non-material states of consciousness, Time is non-existent. So let us say that in one of the time frames or dimensions, there was once a planet in the solar system of Earth, called Lucifer. It was of the least material density of any of the planets. Its orbit lay between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter. Among the etheric beings, or heavenly hosts, it was called the Morning Star. Among all planets it was the most radiant planet in the universe.
"The name of the prince of this shining planet was also Lucifer, a beloved Son of God." Orion paused and the sadness deepened in his eyes. Then he continued: "Earth's legends about Lucifer and his hosts are true. Pride and arrogance grew in the heart of Lucifer and in the hearts of many Luciferians. They discovered all of the secrets of matter and also the great secret of the Creative Word. Eventually they sought to turn this omnipotent force against their brothers who were less selfish. Also against the etheric beings and the Father, or Source, for it became their desire to rule the universe. You know the rest of the legend: how Lucifer and his followers were cast down from their high estate. In simpler words, the Luciferians who were embodied then in the most attenuated manifestation of matter "fell" into embodiments in one of the most dense material evolutions, which is the animalistic evolution of Earth."
I dared not look at him as his frightening words struck dark chords of memory in my heart. "Then you mean that I...was one of them?" Shamed tears of realization blinded my eyes.
"Yes, Neptune," he said gently, as both he and Lyra put their arms around me.
Waves of bitter shame and sorrow flooded over me as I realized the terrible truth of Orion's words. At last I said haltingly: "But Orion, you and Lyra and these others walking here in the garden; who are they"
"We were among those who did not join the Luciferians in their revolt against the etheric hosts, " he explained gently. "Thus although the Luciferians shattered our radiant planet in the holocaust of their war, we entered the etheric, non-material worlds in the higher octaves of light as liberated Sons of God, while the Luciferian hosts fell into the dream of mind in matter upon the dark planet of sorrows."
"But this world?" I asked in bewilderment. "Isn't it the world I half remember?"
"Yes, Neptune," Lyra said compassionately. "This is a tiny part of what is left of that world. You mentioned that many things were unfamiliar, such as the thunder and lightning and the nearness of the horizon. These conditions are new to you. For we are on one of the larger planetoids of the shattered planet Lucifer. It is only a few hundred miles in diameter, hence the nearness of the horizon. The thunder, lightning and constant play of color phenomena in the atmosphere are the result of magnetic disturbances because of the vicinity of other asteroids. The clouds you see above are not clouds as you know them upon Earth, but they serve to obscure the debris of our wrecked planet. Only rarely do we leave our etheric state of being and enter our former time frame in individualized manifestations as you see us now."
I was stunned into utter silence and the deepest sorrow. I bowed my head as I thought of the magnificent world I had lost, the great heritage I had cast away to become a bondsman chained in a steel like dungeon of dense matter with its erroneous manifestations of sin, sickness, corruption, evil, decay and repeated deaths. Sobs wracked my body as I thought of my blinded, lost fellows of Earth. At last I murmured hesitantly: "Then all of the peoples of Earth have fallen from this former high estate?"
Orion shook his head. "No, not all, Neptune, but vast numbers of Earthlings are former Luciferians. About the others we will explain to you later. The revelation when it comes will explain many of the enigmas of your planet."
Suddenly, a terrible thought came to me, almost causing me to collapse in horror as I recoiled from it. Stark terror was in my eyes as I looked first at Lyra and then at Orion. I dared not voice what was in my mind.
Orion, discerning my thought, shook his head and his wonderful eyes radiated sympathy and understanding as he said: "No, Neptune, have no fear, you are not in reality Lucifer. In fact you are one of the Luciferians who least wanted to join the others."
Relief flooded over me leaving me weak and shaken as I heard Orion's voice continuing: "Lucifer is presently incarnated upon Earth, but we may not disclose to you his present identity. He had incarnated many times upon Earth and every name is familiar even to grade school children. But some of those names would surprise you, for they are not what you might expect."
I sighed heavily, trying to comprehend all the shattering things which had been revealed to me by Lyra and Orion. Rather incongruously I remembered the phenomena of the flying saucers upon Earth, which caused me to ask: "But if we destroyed your great planet, why are your disks visiting Earth now? Why did Astra contact me? Why don't you leave us to the fate we deserve, each one of us buried in his individual grave of living death?"
Lyra's hand gripped mine and Orion's arm tightened around my shoulders. "Love is stronger than life and deeper than the boundless depths of time and space," he said softly. "While our brothers are lost in the hell of unreality and turn their blinded, imploring eyes to the mute heavens, we can never forget them. We intercede unceasingly for your peoples' liberation. Thus today every bondsman upon Earth has within himself the power through the mystery of the Etheric Christ Spirit to cancel his captivity.
"Eventually all of mankind deep-drowned in Time and Matter, will surface to reality when they recognize their basic unity of being. When man is for man honestly and sincerely and not selfishly arrayed against himself, the hour of deliverance from the underworld will be close at hand. We wait now beyond the great, sad river of Time and Sorrows with open arms and hearts to receive among us our lost and prodigal brothers in that great day when they rejoin us as liberated Sons of God.
"Our disks, or saucers as Earthmen term them, are in your space-time frame as harbingers of mankind's coming resurrection from the living death. Although our disks are essentially etheric; that is, non-material, they are controlled in such a way that they can almost instantaneously attract substance to take on any degree of material density necessary. Various other types of space craft are now permitted to visit Earth for certain purposes. These are from other worlds and also space islands of various densities of matter. Some are on the borderline between materiality and non-materiality. But all are operated by intelligences highly spiritual in nature. All are on a mission of love to their brothers of the Dark World, but mankind's understanding of their ultimate intent and purpose will only become fully apparent further along in Earth's Time Dimension. We do not say that there are no negatives in the universe who have not attained primitive modes of space travel, but at present Earth is fully protected from these by both cosmic law and the etheric host."
When Orion finished speaking there was silence. I sat with bowed head and contrite heart as realization of the full import of his words came to me. As Neptune, fleetingly restored to my lost immortal state, I saw that we of Earth are in reality in an underworld of illusion where we mistake false shadows for reality and dream selfish dreams of separateness from our brothers.
As these thoughts were in my mind the ringing of musical chimes sounded from the sea-green building. As though this was a signal everyone arose and entered the building. Orion led us to a large dining hall. Five men and five women were already there standing at their places at a huge table. At one end of the table was a cross wing with three vacant places. Orion indicated that I should take the middle place while he and Lyra seated themselves on either side of me.
It was an exquisite room and although there appeared to be no direct source of light the room was brilliantly lighted; the substance and colors of the room and everything in it seemed to glow with a soft, radiant light of their own. Vaguely, I seemed to remember the other persons present and they spoke to me as to an old friend. It was soon apparent, however, that the conversation was for my sole benefit as it was obvious that everyone else exchanged thoughts telepathically. As they did so iridescent clouds of color about them changed swiftly in shimmering hues and patterns.
No servants waited upon the table. Yet it was laid out exquisitely with the most delicate plates and shimmering silverware. On each plate were three portions. A triangle portion of pale amber; a square portion of varying shades of green; and a round portion of lavender. The beverage was clear and sparkling in a crystal goblet. These strange delicacies were the most delicious and delicately flavored foods I had ever tasted. And the sparkling drink seemed to give immediate renewed strength and energy.
When the splendid meal was finished and everyone was preparing to leave the table, I turned and looked at Lyra. Suddenly, I was fully aware for the first time of all her exquisite feminine beauty and loveliness. Involuntarily, a wave of desire for her swept over me. She turned away from me and all conversation in the room ceased. I glanced hastily about; all of the others were standing silently with bowed heads. On an opposite wall I saw my reflection in a huge mirror and embarrassment flooded over me as I saw an ugly mottled red and black cloud enveloping my head and shoulders.
I felt impure and unworthy to be in that shining assemblage. The others left quietly, but I had the comforting feeling of their deep sympathy for me and their understanding for my human weakness. Also, I had the strong telepathic impression that sexual desire is merely another of the erroneous manifestations of materiality. Upon Earth it is neither wrong nor sinful in any of its manifestations except when it is used for selfish, destructive and cruel purposes. If motivated by love, altruism and unselfishness the sexual appetite is no more erroneous than any of mankind's other desires. But in the higher spiritual worlds it is non-existent.
Orion touched my arm as we were leaving the hall. "We understand," he said kindly. "It is nothing, as you realize now."
I smiled gratefully at him. But I felt tired and very sleepy. He and Lyra accompanied me to my room where I lay down upon the couch. They sat beside me until I fell into a deep sleep.
When I awoke I was alone. I walked outside onto the terrace, but the grounds were deserted. For a long while I stood there alone on the balcony marveling at that fantastically beautiful world. Apparently it was a world of eternal youth, eternal spring and eternal day. The rainbow-hued clouds were always moving overhead shot with soft waves of sheet lightning, and the far-away echo of thunder never entirely ceased. The trees, flowers and grass were miracles of color, fire and light which in comparison made the remembered counterfeits of Earth seem like gross, dull shadows.
As I stood there marveling, I saw Lyra come out of the adjoining building. She called a warm greeting. I saw she was holding a small crystal object in her hand. When she joined me she said mysteriously: "This is the seventh Earth day and through ourselves we shall take you back.
Her strange, beautiful eyes were upon me, seeming to look through and beyond me. She did not address me either as Neptune, or Orfeo. This saddened me, for it made me realize that I was now a stranger and an imposter in their shining world.
Understanding my thought, she put her hand gently over mine and I saw a mist of tears in her eyes. Then she raised the odd crystal in her hand to her forehead. As though in magic response, a flood of beautiful melody arose from the sea-green building; not the ethereal music of their world, but a hauntingly sad and familiar strain. I recognized the sublime melody of the Bach-Gounod "Ave Maria". Tears flowed unrestrainedly down my cheeks for a half-remembered, sad people who dwelt in a strange shadowed region called Earth. Softly she said: "You will remember this, Orfeo."
That name sounded strange upon her lips; like the name of an utter stranger. I bowed my head in bitter regret for Neptune who was, and who now was not - and for the false shadow of Orfeo who is! Confused and perturbed I turned hastily from her and hurried into my room. Somehow I had the feeling that the secret of liberation lay in the mysterious crystal panel near my couch.
But as I reached eagerly for the controls on the panel, I felt a gentle restraining hand upon my arm. I turned and looked into Lyra's wonderful eyes shining with sympathy, compassion and purest love.
My own heart swiftly responded. Then suddenly, miraculously we were as one being, enfolded in an embrace of spirit, shared by all of those in the light of God's infinite love throughout the entire universe. What a tragedy, I thought, that I and my lost brothers of Earth know mostly only the counterfeit embrace of sexual desire and animal passion.
At that moment Orion came in the door and as he stood transfixed, his vibrant love too enfolded us in its pure, golden unselfish light. All boundaries of self were lost in a unity of being. "Our lost brother is home at last," he said softly.
After awhile Orion and Lyra seated themselves near the strange crystal control panel and I rested upon the lounge. Orion touched a crystal disk and immediately an entire wall of the room opened up into a huge three-dimensional void. The room darkened and I saw the void a magnificent view into outer space. But all of space was shining with light; the stars and suns glowed with a deep reddish glow and only the planets appeared of varying degrees of darkness. The scene was focussing upon an unfamiliar part of the heavens. A sun and a number of encircling planets came into view.
Then the scene centered upon a single planet in this unknown solar system. It was a smug, sleek planet and apparently as efficient as a billiard ball. But it was exceedingly dark in tone and surrounded with concentric waves of deep gray. A tangible vibration or emanation came from it; evil, unpleasant and utterly without inspiration or hope. Approaching this world I saw a glowing red dot with a long, misty tail. The fiery dot seemed irresistible attracted to the dark world. The two collided in a spectacular fiery display. I felt Lyra's hand upon mine as she whispered. "It is an immutable law of the cosmos that too great a preponderance of evil inevitably results in self-destruction and a new beginning."
The scene shifted to a different part of the universe. Another dark misty world came into view, although it was not as dark as the first world. About this world there was a vibrant feeling of life and hope. But again I saw a fatalistic fiery red dot approaching and it was evident that this world too was doomed. I shuddered to think of conditions upon that planet at the moment of doom. But then I held my breath as I beheld two tiny dots coming forth from that world apparently to intercept the fiery comet. Intuitively I realized that the dots were remotely controlled by intelligence beings upon the planet who were concentrating the magnetic impulses of the dots upon the comet. Suddenly the comet exploded leaving the world unscathed. I breathed a sign of relief.
Once more the scene shifted and focused upon a third world. Obviously, this was an "in-between" world, neither as dark and hopeless as the first, nor yet as light and inspired as the second. To the left to this planet appeared another smaller body -- I recognized it as our moon and the planet as Earth. From the planet several tiny space ships went out to the moon and did not return. Then a tiny fleet of space craft went to the moon, but some of these returned to Earth.
Suddenly, terrifyingly, to the right of the planet Earth, appeared the red, dot of cosmic doom. Rapidly it increased in size leaving behind it a fiery tail of flame. It was evident that the comet was being drawn irresistibly toward Earth. Neither Lyra nor Orion spoke, but a strange voice said: "In the Time Dimension of Earth it is now the year 1986."
I shuddered and waited anxiously, but the portentous scene slowly faded from the screen. I turned excitedly to Orion. "But what happens to Earth?"
Orion and Lyra both looked compassionately at me as Orion gently replied. "That depends entirely upon your brothers of Earth and their progress in unity, understanding and brotherly love during the time period left them between the so-called now and the year 1986. All spiritual help possible will be given them, not only by ourselves but by others from all parts of the universe. We believe that they and their world will be saved, but in no time frame, or dimension, is the future ever written irrevocably. If they bring upon themselves self-destruction of their planet through a preponderance of evil there, it will mean another fall for the entities of Earth into even denser meshes of materiality and unreality. As you love your brothers of Earth, Orfeo, fight to your dying breath to help them toward a world of love, light and unity."
With those awful and awesome words, he got up and slowly walked from the room, leaving me alone with Lyra.
She smiled gently into my eyes ad touched the mysterious crystal panel. Immediately the incredible, huge, three-dimensional screen became active again. but no longer were we looking into the boundless depths of space and time. Instead, I saw the familiar outlines of the Lockheed plant in Burbank. There was the shop in which I worked. The scene shifted inside the plant. I saw the radomes and my working companions, Dave Donnegan and Richard Butterfield. An unpleasant sensation came over me as though I were fainting, as though I were fading into the huge screen and becoming an active part of the scene I was viewing. Terrified, I turned to call to Lyra, but she was no longer there, only a mist. Then I blacked out!
My next conscious perception was my "awakening" on the job at Lockheed with all of my incredible experiences of those seven days seemingly utterly obliterated from my mind.
Thus six months passed with only hazy, trouble-some intimations of what had happened to me in those seven lost days. But that night as I rested my head upon the rock down in the Los Angeles River bed, it all came back to me crystal clear. Also, I remembered my frightening, bewildered "awakening" upon Earth in the Lockheed plant, my terrible revulsion with everything I saw upon Earth as compared with the wonder world I had left, although as yet only my higher consciousness fully understood.
I remembered my fellow workers, Dave Donnegan and Richard Butterfield and their reactions to my strange behavior and apparently unreasoning outburst. In the greater scope of my new understanding I realized even more clearly how nobly they had caught me up and sustained me by their own strength through those critical moments. It was so clearly evident to me then that both Dave and Richard had the same basic inherent qualities of goodness and nobility as those godlike beings of that other world. They are both simple, humble men, average workers like myself, yet potential gods! If only they and others like them knew and could realize their divinity, their kinship with God and the greater world of true reality! If every man and woman upon Earth could grasp the great essential basic truth that we are all one and an integral part of God, then indeed all of mankind's hard trials and bitter tribulations would be over. Yes, if only in the abstract we could momentarily attain this illumination, the heavy chains of material bondage would fall from our burdened bodies and our counterfeit world of shadows would vanish in true light.
Today, I believe with all my heart, soul and body in my brothers of Earth. Because of the innate goodness, honesty, nobility and helpful fellowship of the countless other men and women of good will like Dave Donnegan and Richard Butterfield, my undying faith in and love for humanity is forever instilled. Even though our greater brothers of that shining, lost, wonder world should have to refuse. My lot is forever with my fellows of Earth! I will fight courageously with them and for them in the undying belief that the good in our hearts will triumph over evil. In the conviction that every human being upon Earth, trapped in eternity and granted only one small awareness of life at a time, will be liberated from our prison cells of unreality and attain again our high estate as liberated sons of God.

Note: The language spoken by the beings of that other world was neither familiar English nor Italian, but another language which I fully understood and remembered while with them. But today my conscious mind recalls their language only as a meaningless jumble of strange words, although I have a full understanding in my own language of all that passed between us. I can clearly recall only a few words of that other language. Those words were spoken to me by Lyra when she first came into the room. I am certain she said, "Un doz e pez lo" (or something very similar), meaning "No, you have lost weight."