Insider Knowledge: Beholding the Pale Horse

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on September 9, 2013 by theoperafiend


Milton William Cooper’s ‘Behold A Pale Horse’ is a force to contend with. It is a self-determined work, written out of sacrifice of ego for the sake of getting the message out to a truth-deserving public.

The truth Cooper presents us with in this fiery ream is composed mostly of compilations of secret documents which he personally unearthed.  Cooper exposes this forbidden knowledge due to his being an insider, and insiders with any moral fibre and initiative are priority threats to corrupt elements. Cooper acknowledges to have brought this highly sensitive, top-secret information to light at his own peril. He states that ‘I will undoubtedly become a target when this book is published’, which testifies to his self-imposed martyrdom in exchange of waking up the enslaved American people. His death was therefore not a tragedy by any means, but a self-fulfilling prophecy. Manly P. Hall, a major Freemasonic figurehead and advocate of the New World Order once wrote: ‘When one holds knowledge of good and evil, he becomes susceptible to death.’ In light of this statement, Cooper’s ‘Behold A Pale Horse’ can be construed as his own death sentence, a death which he brought upon himself not so much out of his loathing of the New World Order and its agents, but more out of love for the Truth.

The tone of his prose is a paragon of personal and professional probity and integrity. It is genuine and heartfelt, and the contents of his findings are indisputable. The most poignant passage in relation to his personal traumas involves a detailed account of the very visceral reaction he had when he witnessed the assassination of JFK live on national television.

The anecdotes he relates concerning the Navy cover-up of UFO sightings are indeed credible in that he had much more to lose than to gain in exposing the corruption of his Naval Intelligence officers. As soon as he began to leak information, the Government started to overtly harass and intimidate him, mainly via vehicles. He was thenceforth a priority target, however, he was astute in pointing out that ‘any move by them would be interpreted as total confirmation of everything that I had revealed.’ So they waited until they got him under a technicality, ie. tax-evasion, which eventuated in a fatal shootout in 2001.

This book could not make it more evident that the continuation of the US Constitution as the Law of the Land is the only thing that is keeping the NWO at bay: ‘That most Americans own at least one firearms weapon is the only thing that has kept the NWO at bay.’ Several chapters  include declassified documents which prove the intent of the NWO to oust the US Constitution altogether. Most inflammatory is the fact that many millions of taxpayer’s dollars have been wasted on drafting alternate laws contravening the people’s rights exemplified in the US Constitution. The culprits of this coup d’etat are, of course, secret societies. They are privatized, and therefore unaccountable. Simple as that. Public scrutiny and denunciation cannot penetrate them unless, of course, we have a solitary heroic soul like Cooper who is able and brave enough to expose it all only because he has experienced it from the inside. Without his involvement in the De Molay Society as a teenager, and further involvement in the US Naval Intelligence Debriefing Team as a young adult, he would never have brought this book to life. These factors earned him much credibility and clout so as to keep the wolves at bay, so to speak. This is why they decided to wait and wait until they found a devious way to set him up for tax-evasion, and then pounce.

Although the wealth of ‘forbidden fruit’ conveyed in this exposé is coextensive with feelings of utter outrage, despair, and futility on the part of its reader, this knowledge is also extremely empowering. Once you have read this book, you will come to realize that knowledge is the intermediary between suffering on the one hand of the scale, and power on the other. This empowerment is the total insight into the enemy’s stratagems. Knowing how the dark side works and what it intends to do is just what it takes to disarm it.

NWO disinfo-agents are rife on the net, branding this book as ‘500 pages of paranoia and hate.’ For the most part though, ‘Behold A Pale Horse’ has been met with highest praise by receptive readers: it has made them question everything which has been instilled from birth; it has made them question the system of deception in which they exist; it has made them reexamine the way we as humans relate to and perceive and understand the world as it really is.

The reader must bear in mind that this book came out in 1991. The material covered has turned out  all too topical 22 years on, 2013. For instance, all Obama has to do is declare a National Emergency for whatever lame excuse, which would then entail the full implementation of F.E.M.A., that is Martial Law, a totalitarian socialist dystopia and police state. The implications of this looming prospect is covered at length in chapter 6. It is truly oracular. The book is, for this very reason, much ahead of its time.

The book is more a result of exhaustive research pertaining to the NWO/ Illuminati agenda punctuated by Cooper’s discourse, which functions as a Greek chorus. He lets the vital information which he discovered speak for itself than draw in the reader with hundreds of pages of his own discourse. This brings to mind his wisest statement ever made: ‘Listen to everyone, read everything; trust no-one, trust nothing, until you can corroborate it with your own research.’ And through this monumental research-opus has he evinced a momentous revelation.

No ticket, no morals.

Posted in Uncategorized on December 15, 2011 by theoperafiend

Last night I witnessed quite an appalling affair. Watched the viral video of the 19-year-old kid who was manhandled and thrown out of a train in Scotland. The whitehaired sexagenarian conductor, with mulish obstinacy and querulous Scottish brogue, demanded the kid to get off the train at once. ‘Off!’ The train was at standstill.

Now, the 19-year-old kid paid for two singles to and from Edinburgh, but he had been drinking an indeterminate quantity of alcohol, and so he managed to produce the mere single he had already used.  The conductor and the kid were jointly pertinacious in their standing, so nothing was getting solved.

Conductor: ‘I can wait here all night long, I’m getting paid for this.’

The kid: ‘then I’ll wait here all night long as well, I’ve already fuckin’ paid.’

Note that the kid was swearing, and did so continually throughout the run-in. Once you start swearing, whomever you’re swearing at has the high moral ground to do whatever they please.

Conductor: ‘People are going to start moaning now.’

The kid: ‘Make them stop then.’

It was stalemate for another few incredibly tense minutes until a big fat Bluto type emerged inauspiciously from behind the kid, asking the conductor whilst pointing his index finger at the kid in a menacing manner:

‘You want him taken out?’

The crux of the entire scene was this: the conductor said ‘Yes, I do.’

This affirmation prompted the gargantuan goon to grab the kid out of his seat, dragging him through the narrow corridor with all the passengers watching–the kid was writhing like mad, helpless in the big brute’s crushing clutch–the brute hurled the kid out of the train headfirst. The kid ended up with a huge ugly gash on his cheek. The preponderance of the passengers applauded the ‘Big Man’ who took matters into his own hands. Only a few of the passengers protested ‘that really wasn’t necessary,’ but the cavetroll held hegemonic power nonetheless.

Here’s what the kid did wrong: he swore repeatedly at the conductor, he had been drinking an indeterminate quantity of alcohol, and he failed to produce to the conductor the other single ticket he had bought. All that having been noted, what befell him should never have happened. Apart from the cavetroll in the striped shirt, it was the conductor who was at fault when he said to the cavetroll: ‘Yes, I do’–if he had not done this, but rather, if he had said to the cavetroll ‘This is none of your business’, or, ‘This does not concern you,’ then we wouldn’t have an injured kid on our hands. The conductor was unprofessional through and through, and ought to be subjected to disciplinary action for his unacceptable comportment. The course of action he ought to have taken would have been to be less of an asshole and ask whether the kid had bought two singles. Moreover, a confrontational stance almost never proves of any avail, so he should have let the train go on, called the management or security, who according to their standards of conduct, ought to have handled the situation a lot more civilly. Then again, this is Scotland.

Two critical points must be taken into account: the 19-year-old was like a toothpick in dimension, and like a mouse in stature, whereas the vigilante cavetroll in the striped shirt was like King Kong by comparison. Go figure. The second point is this: there were at least three or four toddlers bearing witness to this scene. Now, the champions of the ‘Big Man’ say ‘oh the kid was swearing, those children shouldn’t have heard that.’ Well if that is so, then why did that racist virago on the London Tube find it perfectly acceptable to swear in front of her own infant as she spewed venom at the blacks on the Tube? Not only that, the champions of the ‘Big Man’ have utterly overlooked the unjustified violence he committed. Given the sheer smallness of the 19-year-old, what the brute did was tantamount to grievous assault at the very least. The parents of the children who bore witness to the incident ought to be significantly more concerned with the violence their children saw, rather than the ‘foul language’ they heard and almost certainly did not understand at all in any case. I’ve said my piece. Case closed.

Wily watercloset wasting

Posted in Uncategorized on June 27, 2011 by theoperafiend

A human being is a human being, no matter what their political provenance is. The foul, strange and unnatural death has timely befallen upon the life of Tory MP Christopher Shale. The nature of his ostensibly contingent death remains vexatiously speculative. So far no one has taken the initiative to conduct a thorough inquest. Being found and pronounced dead under ‘mysterious circumstances’ transpires far too often, and increasingly so nowadays. When will it dawn on people that these crafty murders in the guise of suicide, fatal accident, inexplicable expiration and whatnot are ever timely and implicate an overwhelming covert conglomerate of serious organized crime? But this is nothing new. It is a longstanding convention. Look to the contents of Macchiavelli’s On Conspiracies. There is no explicable reason at all that a man of 56 years should be discovered ‘slumped in a portable toilet in a backstage VIP area’ unless he was prescribed to be taken out. The media’s vain and lackadaisical attempt to empirically infer the cause of Shale’s death, predicating said causes on foregoing drug-related and stabbing incidents, is truly reprehensible. It almost seems intentional. Authorities have ‘concluded’ that the cause was a heart-attack. That’s right. Just like Elvis who gave up the ghost on the john. Most humans settled on the higher planes of consciousness know full well that a heart-attack can be induced remotely. It happened to Kubrick the day after his first private screening of his indicting exposé of the Freemasons, also known as his final masterpiece entitled ‘Eyes Wide Shut’. Not to mention the inexhaustible list of mysterious deaths one is reminded of when something like this occurs. It can happen to anyone who poses any sort of sizeable threat to his or her heinous adversary. Twitter was ridden with posts on the day of Shale’s death relating to a mutedly reproachful remark he made about the Tory party that very day (‘there is no reason to join the conservative party’) as well as a supposed ‘leaked memo’ he received. Judging from this scarce information alone, there is no question that his death was arranged. This all reinforces the fact that these distinct types deaths in general are by no means ‘unascertainable’.

The ‘death’ of Osama bin Laden: The man, the menace, the myth.

Posted in Uncategorized on May 2, 2011 by theoperafiend

So Osama’s been laden with a belated quelling, eh? For all we know it could’ve been I who carried out this heroic feat. Because someone says he’s dead doesn’t mean he was necessarily killed one hour ago. A timely alignment with the 8th anniversary of the US project Geronimo must be borne in mind. Like a coordinated reflex, nearly all the world jubilated at this latest news without initially arching a single eyebrow as high as it can possibly reach. There is already a facebook fanclub page entitled: ‘The guy who killed Osama” where over 30,000 people have joined in less than an hour. How do we even know for a fact that one lone trooper singlehandedly did away with Osama less than an hour ago? Revelling crowds have congregated outside the White House chanting ”USA! USA! USA!”–ten years later one’s faith in his nation is so easily restored once the ‘Face of Terror’ is effaced for good. . . allegedly.

We don’t know anything. We don’t know if he was killed already weeks, months, years in advance before they let the rest of the world know he’s been taken out.

”My husband’s died on 9/11. Now Osama’s dead. I feel free,” quoth a facebook user. Freedom through vengeance??? Obama deems it JUSTICE. He said: ”His demise will be welcomed by those whom believe in PEACE and [get this:] DIGNITY.” Dignity? What’s so dignified about killing a putative terrorist who has gone into hiding for a decade? During all this time, either he’s been keeping a low profile or the US has disregarded him for reasons unknown to us, the conforming asinine ignoramuses who’ve all been brainwashed one way or another. Are we sheep or are we lions? Who’s next down the line of to-be vanquished mythic monsters?

Osama’s always been a myth to me. From the perspective of a common freethinking, freefeeling citizen, I say that, save for in my childhood, Osama has posed no imminent threat on my person, nor has he elicited from me a sense of malevolence towards him. He was just another Two-minutes-of-Hate subterfuge for the real menaces and their irredeemably corrupt agendas: the government, the media, the State and its greatest weapon, the induction of FEAR. The only way a populace can obey a government is for the government to win the favour and faith of the populace when it comes down to facing a fictive enemy, the anointed ‘Face of Terror’. If we the people haven’t a clue what was ‘behind’ the face of bin Laden that we know so well, we’d just see his face as an innocuous face of an innocuous human being. So, ”Way to go, U.S. military!!!” (another facebook user). Three cheers for the demise of the world’s number one villain.  Just think about it: ten years.  Troy took ten years. I oddly enough don’t feel as if an albatross has been lifted off my shoulders. I’m neither happy nor sad. The reaction of the people saddens me, but I am not saddened about his death. It was bound to happen sooner or later. In fact, later than sooner.

The question: WHY NOW? Ten years ago, the US depicted him in an odious hue. In the interim he was forgotten. Now suddenly he’s been…well, resurrected. Why are we due to draw attention to Osama? His death shall become the priority of Newspeak for at least another month. After all these years the media still haven’t learned how to prioritize. So Osama dies under Obama. That’ll be an ultra-boost bonus for his re-election campaign. Bush ought to be beastly jealous.

Osama as Man, as Menace (the phantom menace), as Myth always meant a lot to me. He featured in my storyboard ‘Terrorism Hits America’ as the arch-villain endowed with preternatural powers. Me, my friends and James Bond were given lightsabers to go and battle him and his minions. Aside from Bush, Osama was my first real-life villain. A pliable 9-year old, I was conditioned by a bombardment of repetitive media blocks into believing outright that Osama bin Laden was the most evil man on the planet. I was innocent, sensitive, and impressionable at the time, so it was perfectly natural to fear him. I was in fact so afraid of him that I began to sob my guts out in a parking lot, and bleating to my mother that I didn’t want to live in such a cruel world, such a cruel, mad, evil world. Why was I brought into this world? The extent of the corrosive evil was too much for my little innocent sensitive soul to deal with. I wasn’t prepared to protect myself from harm’s way. I just felt like a helpless little boy in a helpless little world.

During those terms of media-induced fearflashes I’d insist on getting off an airplane if I spied an Arab physog. That’s how brutally brainwashed I was by all these media stories circulating everywhere. They grew on you. Whether your fears were intrinsic or extrinsic became indistinguishable. Osama, Saddam, Gaddafi…Osama. All swarthy older men.

OK, so he’s gone. Doesn’t solve a thing. It’ll provide relief and stimulation for some. Is elimination of a target deemed as essential progress? Is death development? Have we arrived at a check-point in these sorts of affairs? Have we afforded closure from this quelling?

I saw terror with my own eyes. All I saw were the planes, not the people inside them. I only heard about people being inside them. They say that people were in those airplanes. . .

Saviano’s final epochal appearance on Rai 3’s ‘Vieni Via Con Me’

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on November 30, 2010 by theoperafiend

Saviano arrived on the scene of Vieni Via Con Me for the fourth and final time. I find his approach a very time-honoured one, like those of the bards who invoke poems of his antecedents and poetical metaphors. This night was especially moving. He spoke of the students who died in the Aquila earthquake. He started off by presenting a detailed profile of the students so as to get the audience familiar with the names but also to identify with certain traits they possess. After a powerful preempting of eventual calamitous circumstances, he reveals finally to the audience that these students who in habited the student building in Aquila had all died save one girl. This was a true shock. His style of spoken narrative was so lucid that it felt like the gallows of a film script. The second part of this tale slowly but surely exposed the true culprit of this supposed natural disaster: the bungling construction job executed by union members. It was discovered amidst the ruins that one of the pillars of the furthest wing was missing. A group of students at the time asked the construction workers whether they’d eventually install a pillar of edificial support. They scoffed at this concern and simply reassured them that ‘L’Aquila tremerà, ma non crolla mai’. So much for the allayment of collective anxiety. All these students, who all had everything going for them, were brutally crushed to death. It was also exposed that the union utilized the cheapest form of concrete available. Stinginess is lethal. Saviano cogently contends that a half-assed job as such is a direct corollary to criminal conduct in general, but also Mafia-manipulated employments…

His farewell was poignant, and made me pine for more outspoken and compelling figures. He went on to express how writing isn’t threatening, influential, revolutionary until it is read by the eyes of many others. Why would the writing of one read by one be a menace to those who would strive to suppress it? The accretion of cor-responding spurring stimuli is where the disparity lies. The accretion of a positive influence. The accretion of approval and appreciation and admiration. This is the menace, and this is why this prodigy has been condemned to death.

-30. Nov.

State Stakeouts

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on November 28, 2010 by theoperafiend

Italy is altering its TV-satellite throughout at the end of the month. This means that the entire populace is coerced to go out and buy these decoder devices so as to have them installed by supposed ‘technicians’. This may for sure seem like a considerate and progressive gesture on behalf of the state, but alas, as an innate cynical skeptic and skeptical cynic, I beg to differ, for I discern a sinister undercurrent. This is a deceptive beckoning of susceptible citizens to watch TV more often than not, to assent with whatever is exhibited to them, to be consensually (if not inadvertently) conditioned by this state apparatus. This means that a broader constituency will be surveyed with scrutiny by those who have devised and are operating this malicious machination. When you watch your favourite programme, you’ll be unmindful of the covert moles on the reverse side of the iron curtain. This promotion functions principally as a press-gang. You are made to feel that if you don’t go out amidst the throngs of compliant others, you are against a progressive nation, and so you remain cast in the mire of a vilified primitivism. Therefore, you become a captive of your own domicile either way.

– 28 Nov. ‘10

Feature: On the distinction twixt Speechmaking and Inscription

Posted in Uncategorized on August 15, 2010 by theoperafiend

To behold the printed word is to be confronted with a figure commanding authority. The printed letter affords a legitimacy separate from that of speech. It is an ineffaceable item. The written law is an aggregate of the printed letter. One might feign misunderstanding when hearing out one’s utterances. Quando parlo non si puo più sentire definitivamente che cosa dico, che cosa sto dicendo. Volume, pitch, manner of delivery, each particular nuance can be interpreted any way anyone wants to interpret it. But so is text, but only to an extent where the logical commands superfluous conclusions made by those who have an interest. What is seen here, incised on this white page is all there is to see, no more, no less. Speech is discursive, and confineless. Writing is tempered and sanely immured. But lo! These words printed herein all conform to one mode of production, that of linearity. It’s clean, pristine, organised. Speech can be derailed, but not writing, not this text you see here. So, at what point, at what junction do both speech and writing both get bent out of shape? In the long-term, can one benefit more from writing or speaking? Speech is fluid, writing is—at a glance—inert. When one speaks, it is that individual who volitionally possesses the word which becomes a momentous event. The text itself can be constantly possessed by a plethora of people, making it a disembodied eternal specimen and not the transient singular emission of sound that is one’s very own speech.  Up to this point, I cannot proclaim which medium of communication prevails, as it is and always will be an ongoing & neverending debate. At this phase in the great debate, it is suffice to say that I hereby conclude that, essentially, speech is Dionysian and writing is Apollonian.

-August 15th 2010