**JOURNAL
TAPE NUMBER 25,829**
ANOTHER
MOTHER FUCKING HELLIDAY-HOLIDAY WEEKEND IS STARTING OFF RIGHT ON
MOTHER FUCKING CUE AND TARGET. SOSO-SSDD-WEIN?
Folks,
until you have some small bit of identification with me by having
even the remotest similar experiences, and get to know and feel the
POWER of hyperspace reality; this entire blog times a million, will
be for you, JUST FUCKING WORDS ON A PAGE, or a lot of pages, but the
same net effect!
Here
comes the mother fucking Microsucks LIGHTBULB cunt eating famous
hack, good people. I'm quite cunt sniffing positive, this is just the
beginning of lots of shit while I mother fucking try and tell you
some mind bending cock sucking stuff, BRAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
First
off, this was two back to back 94 degree high days now, that did not
fall out of the nineties until nearly dimming evening, but at least
has dropped now a full 12 degrees to 82 here in Fort Knifefight
Pierced Nightmares, Floridaberriosflowers, USA!
Sarah-Stacey
Jehovah Krassle owns this entire everything. This is her videogame of
a 21st
century way or relating these truths to many geeks out here. I am her
THAT BOY, placing me whether I like it or not, smack dab at the
center of all of this, and it was all set to happen, and I did not do
anything to bring anything about, it was going to all occur whether I
approved, disapproved, or whistled Dixie Ann Southlands Tunes, for
300 years through my nose!!!!!!!! Here comes the mother fucking
second hack, the first was the MICROSUCKS-LIGHTBULB ATTACK, now
comes the fucking cunt lapping ( `~ HACK) and I'm totally cunt
chewing positive that this will only keep growing worse as we go
fucking along. This bullshit thing, my endless postpone for 4 hours
UPDATES SHIT that will not configure and keep failing ever since
Microfuckingsucks made their April alterations, and now a fourth
fucking hack, the window about performance that if you click on the
DETAILS part, doesn't fucking function, so I just X
it off, Louise
Hendershodt;
and now another LIGHTBULB. I told you, this is bad, FCC
BOB
MCDOWELL!
MAY
24, 2014,
SATURDAY
BOTBAR NIGHT AT 8:55,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 82 DEGREES FNHT,HUM-73%
THIS
CUNT SUCKING FUCKING MACHINE IS MAGGOT LANDFILL MATERIAL SOON. I WILL
HAVE TO BUY A USED ONE FROM ONE OF SEVERAL SHOPS HERE IN TOWN THAT
SELL USED ONES WITH WARRANTIES. THIS IS MOTHER FUCKING NORTHEAST
MARYLAND CAMP CHESAPEAKE MACKKAITER REDICULOUS!!!!!!!!!!
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FORMERLY
KNOWN AS 'KING NEBNOOSHOO':
Fort
Pierce, FL
- Fort Pierce, FL
SOMEONE
KNOWS ABOUT THE MARSHLANDS.
2006-2014
© MOUNTAINPEN, MORIANITY BIBLE FOR MILLENNIUM THREE
©
2006-2014 MARK WAYNE MOHR/MORIANITY FOUNDATION
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Not boring, without hesitation
nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that
out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared
my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness.
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You forgot
your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and olive
pits?
An angry mother.
Also
at the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly
sure of is that you cannot be sure of anything.
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1 comment:
Your
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BLOG
STATS OFFICIALLY POSTED ON FEBRUARY 17, 2014, AT 7:00 P.M.
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BLOG
STATS OFFICIALLY POSTED ON MAY 24, 2014, AT 9:00 P.M.
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WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
There
are no ONE WAY STREETS,
merely streets where the law makes it legal to only drive in one
direction. Thinking long and hard about this, puts many things in
your own life in an entirely new light; whether or not you're aware
of this great truth, folks.
MARK
MOHR AND HIS WHIP CREAM FOUNTAINPEN INVENTIONS NO NO NO NO
MACINVONDI, THAT'S KFP AND WE NEED TO CHANGE THE LETTER 'F' TO THE
LETTER 'M' WITHOUT ANY SONG LYRICS FROM THE EIGHTIES, 'JEEPERS
CREEPERS'! WHERE DID YOU, BILLY AND WHOEVER ELSE YOU ARE, YO?
///////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
1980 KEYBOARDS FROM PETA-HELL ®
MARK
WAYNE MOHR--------1980, ALL BLOGS © 2006-2014
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This fella is MOST DEFINATELY
for real! A friend of mine roomed with him for awhile at his home
in Blue Anchor, NJ, and said Mark screamed and yelled into a phone
that was off the hook, non-stop, for days on end. He believes
lightning is a Goddess named Sarah Krassel, and that the Atlantic
Ocean is the Goddess Stacy. Moreover, he is convinced that the
Kennedy family, in conjunction with the Carey family (Mariah and
them), in conjunction with the Trump and NJ Callio family, are
conjointly conspiring to kill him, using black-op helicopter
missions, spraying his immediate air space with chem-trails, and
sending Atlantic City-residing life guards and bar tenders stealing
into the night, waiting to catch him off-guard. The only problem
being that he lives in Ft. Pierce, FL now, but still believes
they're out there. You can google "MOUNTAINPEN" to catch
up on his latest blogs.
Posted
by: Razzy McThaxton | March
16, 2012 at 09:00 AM
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-BIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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19, 2013 - MORIANITY PART V, CHAPTER CXLII · MORIANITY PART V,
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NEW BLOGS OF KING
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THE WASHCLOTHS HAVE .
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Dedicated
to Nina's daughter and her three friends in 1997 who followed me
down Tennessee Ave. in Atlantic City all the way to the future
mayor's lifeguard tower.
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CHAPTER 110 · King
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- "MI Apology Song" · SAFE JOURNAL OF KING …
WHERE
ARE YOU STACEY-STITES??????????
I
LOVE YOU AND I NEED YOU, MY LIGHTNING STROBE! HELP ME!!!
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Life
is full of canonized miracles, Pope, Sir, for me, aniwho. Let me
tell you what I mean. IT IS ALL CONCERNING THE TRIANGLE OF REALITY
that the church does not dare ever admit any part to, this being,
HYPERSPACE, DREAMING, and EXPLORATRONS! Here we fucking go again
with another fucking nasty-ass (`~HACK),
FEDERAL
COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION,
OLD PAL AND DIRECTOR, BOB MCDOWELL,
SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is really a mother fucking
royal pain in my asshole at light speed cubed in Cuba, or Atlantic
Time-Travel City, Blue Nerdsey, USA!
Just
shy of seven, the party got rolling along in one of those asshole
enemy apartments with music and doors and shouting. But in a half
hour or so, they all left and took their party somewhere else. THERE
IS A GODDESS!
Still,
HOLIDAYS and BULLSHIT; and this is all as dependable as a factory
filled with fucking Swiss clocks and precision time pieces. I know
what I know, but you ain't heard shit yet, Mister fucking Jolson, so
hold onto those stupid looking buttwipe suspenders of your there,
Mister Green-Acres Eddie Albert, as HERE WEEEEEEEE
GOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We
can always get back to Gerry, sue, Mashell, and Rockford Maverick,
loose teeth and all. For now, there was a day that I called my
night-boss of the RPL Sound Studios, from my Mantua, New Jersey
home, and instead of getting a ringing, I was silently connected to
his wife speaking to one of her girlfriends, and they had no idea I
was listening in. The only reason that this was all fowled up was
because the feds and other spies had known that an exploratron had
overtaken Donald Cialoni in the recent past, and was from a future
time, the middle nineties, a decade and a half in the future. You
are not ready ladies and gentlemen to be totally mind blown yet, and
when you may be, I will know, from my nocturnal experiences. Let me
tell you what HAAAA'PPENED, to quote my pal from the Gloucester
Township Exxon Gasoline Station in the early eighties, Mister
Derrijo. I was on Tennessee Avenue and had a truck parked right
where the parking lot should have been next to McGuire's Hotel, only
there was no hotel, no parking lot, and I was with several men, one
carrying a large spray can filled with insect poisoning, and he
began to spray me in my face and laughing. Suddenly, I was dizzy and
fell down and ended up not on the beach just yards away, but in that
same recurring marshy area that has loose mud of near quick sand
consistency, and I was trying to keep my shoes attached to my feet
while also doing my best to walk out of there. I have been here
before. Nearby in one direction is a creek that most of the time is
almost empty but fills up somewhat after a good rain comes. Behind
me to the opposite direction is a home that looks very similar to
the one where that man who is sort of really weird and out there,
resides, and beyond that, is an entire caltasak that Microsucks
won't help me spell, and this is not dejavoo folks, as we've been
here before; and I've been there before. The screen door is a major
part of things, and is indeed a real screen. Here in waking world
reality, you know there has been a situation involving ''screen
doors'' as the Housing Authority calls them, at the building here
where I reside, only they are not screens the way you may be
picturing them in your minds. They are wooden, thin, and made of
flaps that inter-lap, letting air and noise in, but can be locked
from inside your apartment so as to open the windows and let the air
circulate to get what is known as cross-ventilation, not crossed
over, but tell that to who is on the other side of the screen
door!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No church chords or any of PP's
great country tunes please. I am not in the mood to cry over
spilled toilet water today. W—O—W, Microsucks Light-bulb
horse-shit hacker. Nothing better to do with your time on holidays,
than to fuck with poor old MARK WANE MOTHER-FUCKING MOHR
HUH????????? Pitiful, Adam Schiff and Schiff's Central Pier, totally
fucking ass pitiful. Dots cannot do anything BUT connect. This is a
LAWTRONIC REALITY, YOUR EM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD,
the same old same old SOSO SONG, even the same fucking beats and
measures, like
get a fucking life, you assholes!!!!!!!!
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Sure
it's a coded poem, but what the hell is not, Sherri-Lee Saturn-Cars?
Yeah, poor innocent Sherri-Lee. She was just trying to make a sale,
and WOW was she a fucking aggressive sales person, Crissake
Almighty. But Sue and Gerry and their friends wanted to know what
was in my car, and so of course did Mashell who conveniently had
gone home just before all of this happened in 1979 on that night
before the place closed down for the what other than but the
CHRISTMAS BREAK HOLIDAY? Hay Marge a few years later up in the
future, GIMME' A FUCKING BREAK, OR CUT ME ONE, TO QUOTE THE GREAT
YOU, HONEY-CAKES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Transdimensional
Trunk Devices
and TABLETS,
look very familiar; and the
Almighty Exploratrons of the TYPE-3 group,
intentionally gave us all tablets recently. The reason is that this
all fits into their ultra surreal, and unfathomably diabolical
fucking game plan, and agenda; for Planet fucking Earth, in
5-D!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
the blog will get down and dirty. I was with the ESS last night,
falling into sleep around half past midnight or so. About five hours
later I woke up to just remembering the tip edge of being with them,
in a weird place near some seashore, it could have been anyplace,
and naturally, in any universe, but a localized one. The more
distant they become, the curve of strength that the Lawtronics has
over them appears to dwindle, them being the universes, not the ESS.
If you go to distant ones as most of you know, you may end up in
some weird places that indeed would defy the natural order and laws
that we would think of these as, here in this particular universe
and order of reality. Many times I am with these clubs near the
LAKEHOUSE, near the place in the marshes, or on 10-SC Avenue. Last
night, I was on 10-SC Avenue, and after I managed to crawl out of
the marshes that over in this other wild parallel universe, are
similar to the back bay areas of West Atlantic City, New Jersey,
only not that similar; but I was told some shit that I am not going
to discuss on this blog, like heaven, it can wait, to quote mortals
who claim to love the concept, but as my dad used to say about the
church hypocrites, they're really not in any hurry to ever get
there. Well, I am in a hurry, but I am always there and am already
there, but while dreaming down into this hyperspace mess, I am also
in a hurry to run you all through this stuff, yet I know if I say
too much without letting you start to digest shit; I'll defeat my
purpose, to quote the latengrate Dawn-Marie King!!! She's 100%
totally ass correct! Ain't no doubt about it, Lenny McK, and Miss
Chillie, 601 CB Radios. How can a story this huge and this powerful
really be real, some have put to me? How can all of you not be in
the middle of something just as big, I put yo you? The difference
between us is not the surrounding reality, but the ability to
recognize its existence. This is a complicated issue, and again,
like heaven, it will just have to hang in there with the Huntington
Clan, and do some more fucking ass waiting, YO! Man between roof
dogs, lifeguard towers, following teen girls, and Hammonton forest
fires, I'll keep you in bizz for a long time, WFMU and WAYV!!!!!!
Kiss my fuckiGN white ass, Lenny. I know how much you hate me, and
how many millions of fuckiGN dirt bag years you sat there in mother
fuckiGN hell, planning all of this. Oh boy, he and his buds have
just initiated the (fuckiGN HACK). Where will it all fucking end,
and yes Mister Hawking and Professor Kaku, I looked that time.
Quantabilities and waving splicers and 74-WP machines. Where is
ZVVONKO the digital audio inventor when I really need him, Sam
Walton Voice-mails????????? Do it mike McNulty, I am used to your
nastiness.
Long
Story Short, or LSS, the Exploratronic Supermind Society had a few
top members here in this place that had lots of outside decks, lots
of blue painted wooden steps that separated them all, some in area
distance, while others in altitude difference. Grassy pathways were
the nearby roads, some march lands were also around. I have strong
reason to believe, whatever localizing parallel universe in the
hyperspace that I was in, was still New Jersey and around this time,
you know present time and year, 2014, or give or take just months or
so. I gathered this from listening intently and carefully to the
conversations that I heard going on all around me at this one
particular clubhouse out of a cluster of them, or this is what it
all appeared to be in my humble opinion. They told me after what I
will discuss in a few minutes, that I was not officially invited in,
merely that I'm in the process of introduction, them to me abnd me
to them, and I have not as of yet met certain specific requirements
for becoming an official ESS member. Certain things were needed. One
was for me to drive down this very tiny one car wide grassy lane if
you will, that went about two miles, winding up into a small hilly
area that led to a Comcast Cable Television place. They said I
needed to take this bill to them and they handed me an envelope that
did not look like a bill, more like a letter or postcard or
something, but it was no normal regular customer bill, and it
certainly was not return-addressed, Exploratronic Supermind Society,
not that it ever would be. I looked over and as I did, the road
seemed more and more treacherous. Wild horrible looking huge nearly
dinosaur sized animals suddenly were roaming around all over the
fields along this twisty windy road seemingly heading straight into
hell itself. I wanted to do this real bad, but eventually remember
distinctly, chickening out. They said until they give me an errand,
and I obey it without fear or question, I am not invited to join the
ESS. Then I looked at what they had given to me and it was now a
small package making a horrific sound, and I broke it open and it
was a miniature of one of those animals out along that road that
headed up into some hills where this so-called Comcast office was up
there. The creature then jumped out and onto my arm and began biting
me and putting me into excruciating agony. The pain was beyond
intense and hellish, and I began rolling down these blue colored
wooden steps to the ground, while several ESS members then
surrounded me. One touched my shoulder and instantly the pain was
totally gone, as ''if it never even happened''. I was waiting to
hear a an advertisement for 'Serve-Pro' to start blaring out
somewhere. Then the package had again reverted back to the envelope
that they wanted me to take up to the Comcast place. Now it had
become a regular appearing Comcast bill. Many things were spoken to
me and they told me that I am being persecuted by entirely different
forces than I was at a younger age, after I began communicating with
the subatomic particle that humankind labels, 'the electron'.
Powerful lawtronic forces create dream-outs from void infinity and
they construct the tiniest possible non zero-dimensional unit of
beingness possible, the asapian dream. This comes out with half
spinning around clockwise and the other half spinning around
counter-clockwise. This is why when carbon eventually is created
into the mix along with perfect dosages of hydrogen and oxygen, what
is thought of physically as life, begins to emerge. Along the fourth
dimensional line, there is an eventual growth in connectiveness to
the lower lawtronic dimension or sixth dimension, which is pure
MIND. The larger the receiving connector system becomes as time
progresses or in the area on the one end of the 4-D line moving
forward, the more mind signal can be sent. The more mind signal that
can be sent, the entity can eventually begin to become self aware,
and has led us all now to this stage of present humankind
advancement. Nut as with all things, nothing is that basic and
simple. LSS, my horrendous persecution began when I was able to
begin coding back and forth with the force behind what makes
electrons what they really are inside of this dream out from the
void infinity. This is what the powerful owners of the world are and
will forever be covering up, and should as person accidentally
stumble onto what I did in 1983, they have to kill you, and slowly
drive you mad until you are a mere shell of your former self, and go
mad or kill someone else or yourself. I have yet to do any of this,
so on they go persecuting me endlessly, relentlessly, it won't stop,
as I know too much truth that is top majestic classified by the
world secret system WSS. Even invited in exploratrons do not
communicate with the electron, as I have been not only doing since
1983, but have fallen madly in love with this incredible energy that
can of course become anyone or anything and take on any shape and do
any miracle. This entity who I now call Middie for MDE or
MOTHER/DAUGHTER/ELECTRON,
has made me aware of so many things that no human alive could handle
what I have come to learn and know as a result. Still, this is why
my persecution all began, and it will not end in this lifetime as
Mark Wayne Mohr. This very same force against me is experienced by
all the UFO and other seekers of truth, who dare to seriously buck
these powerful controllers of the WSS. Some call the MIB part of
this, but they're just the stupid drones who carry out the
intimidation missions and so forth. The truths behind this great
FORCE, jit eyes and Jedi's all not withstanding, or any Mister
Hall's for that matter; is male domination ego. The male of the
human species cannot handle the fact that an almighty teen Goddess,
Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle owns this entire everything. This is
her videogame of a 21st
century way or relating these truths to many geeks out here. I am
her THAT BOY, placing me whether I like it or not, smack dab at the
center of all of this, and it was all set to happen, and I did not
do anything to bring anything about, it was going to all occur
whether I approved, disapproved, or whistled Dixie Ann Southlands
Tunes, for 300 years through my nose!!!!!!!!
Other
blogs will follow that go further in my eventual hope of joining the
ESS and when and if this happens, I'll be bound to regulations that
may prevent me from blogging many things that I now blog about. I
already was told that several things I discuss now on blogs, to
quote them, would be immediately halted, should I become a member of
the ESS. You don't say NO to these people. They will put headphones
on you, and you'll never be normal again. When my mom made this
statement, I never knew what she meant, but I told the doctors at
JFK Hospital in Stratford, New Jersey, USA, that she was a keeper,
as she had just told me we were going to go home together and commit
suicide by sitting in the car and garage and die like dock Jessup.
Her exact words to me were, “If you don't get me out of here, I'll
never be normal again, and you will be wearing endless headphones”.
I did not think much of it at the time, she being half nuts to start
with due to that fucking weird undiagnosed condition that suddenly
came on her a number of weeks back the day after when else, but
CHRISTMAS. But the headphones, hell, I wear these things a lot, and
she saw me with them a lot, and so I dismissed this, that is until a
day ago when I was in that CULT PLACE. Well, you did keep your
promise FRANK CALLIO. After I was sprayed, and after I escaped the
marshlands of quicksand, he did appear and he told me the following
thing, good folks. “Have you given those flowers to the A&R
lady yet in Manhattan like I told you to do”? Well, I stared at
him, and then remember turning and running and running as fast as my
legs would take me. Then I slammed into solid air and was on my
face. Then I woke up[ out of the situation in hyperspace. Just
thought some of you might wish to be kept appraised and apprised and
updated, regarding this incredible bullshit, YO!!! The more I have a
group out here who reads all this, and then thinks about it, the
more I will have contact with the ESS. Some may ask me why I want to
do this, and they'd be within the curve of fucking logic to indeed
do so. I'll give you a quick concise response to your query. If you
don't face your demons, they will always devour you. They may
anyway, but I would rather have a chance in a million, than to have
no chance at all. This should get me a nice french kiss from lovely
Egg Harbor Township resident, “TWINBAY”! Yummy.
TOLD
YOU TOLD YOU TOLD YOU TOLD YOU TOLD YOU TOLD YOU, THE STOCK
MARKET IS GOING TO KEEP GOING UP AND UP AND UP, HIGHER AND HIGHER
AND HIGHER, SO DON'T BELIEVE ME!
GINA,
GINA, GINA, GINA, and yes, YOU KNOW IT GIRL, BECAUSE I
TOLD YOU; and Mister Dunn thinks he
is so smart. But then so does everybody, even though I am the
only one who is being light-bulb Microsucks hacked, and is right
all at the same endless time. So put that in your pipe, and smoke
it all the way to cancer. You and me are serious as heart
attacks, right old 1998 pal, Clarence Harris?
There
are two kinds of truth. One is thinking we are awake, and the
other is not being aware of a full circumstance existing around
us. This is because we fell asleep, and are existing inside of
and through, one of our many doubles in hyperspace. In this
state, we are regular normal type-1-exploratrons, or T1E. You
can learn to control your doubles in parallel universes, and when
you do, you are a type-3, or T3E the way Morianity classifies
this phenomena. Under most normal circumstances, none of us human
beings are able to ever control what goes on in our own waking
world, using a hyperspace double, for the simple reason that
there are too many parallel universes in even the most localized
areas of hyperspace. One atom out of arrangement from one other,
in an otherwise totally duplicate reality, is still a parallel.
So T3E make their homes in no one universe, they indeed are
citizens of hyperspace, IE, they live in the full five dimensions
of the multiverse. The more lives they control in total, at key
and critical times, the more increase in their hyperdimensional
wealth is established, and by wealth, I mean power, and when I
say power, I mean in no kind of way that any non T3E is remotely
able to even start to grasp.
|
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Now when I found myself in this parallel reality
yesterday, with this cult that always identifies themselves in
some type of subliminal electronic way, as THAT-FAMILY; the
reason that most of the exploratronic activity or dreaming is of
a TYPE-1 nature, is because we do not prepare to be in control,
and merely drift off into sleep. So just what is the process that
randomly selects where we all scatter around in the multiverse,
as dreamers, some may wonder, and that is good to be wondering
this. On the Astral Plane, we have the gods and goddesses, those
in control that rule over the other entities who are not gods and
goddesses. On the surface, this Plank World seems like the
dreaming worlds of the hyperspace, but make no mistake, it is far
different in a lot of huge ways. Time will not allow me to even
start to get fully into opening up all those doors, on this blog.
The door I feel the need to open right now is the one part of the
ESS Club or Cult, by my labeling; called by them, not by me;
“THAT-FAMILY”. Some time ago, Ann King explained why Sarah
Nurocky referred t me as THAT-BOY to her friends in ?Atlantic
City in the sixties, but this explanation has nothing whatsoever
to do with the naming of their little CULT of ESS travelers. This
Astrally is code for CONFUSERS, WOLVES INSIDE OF SHEEPS CLOTHING,
SMIRKING AND SAYING I'M INNOCENT WHILE ALL THE WHILE PLOTTING A
HEINOUS CRIME AGAINST YOU, ENDLESSLY. Their middle name,
plank-wise, is OBFUSCATION. I could go on, but feel you get the
message, and will not insult you by saying more of the same thing
here, peeps.
What I have attempted to do for some time, is to
get a few real peeps coming up here; and thinking seriously about
the things I talk about, even after their computer is shut down.
This has a powerful effect. Thoughts are the whole thing, they
are why this universe is here, why time works as it does, why
life is what it is, and all of that nice philosophical junk that
most folks simply choose to never dwell on ever. You see, this
''ignore all of this thought process'', works fine, until you get
an excruciating pain in your heart, and you fall down to your ,
unable to breathe; with the room spinning, or as you are bleeding
out, laying all alone after a hit abnd run accident, and you're
the victim. Stuff never ever happens to you though, does it;
well, think again, Charlie! But those who read me and laugh, and
don't care; there is no changing them, and goddess bless them.
But a few, hopefully, have begin thinking, pondering, wondering,
cogitating, meditating, really spending some quality time with
morianity. When you do this, it is because trillions of your
close-in doppelgangers in localized parallel universes in the
hyperspace multiverse, are also making the choice to do this or
to not do this, and you become on of the balancing, DO-THIS ones.
It really is that simple. Every singe decision and thought, is a
programmed balance in five full dimensions. So can I write about
these truths and effect these truths by doing so? Yes I can, to
some degree, but these are gray areas, and uncharted waters.
Normally, T3E do not worry about any one universe, and as
residents of the 5-d multiverse, their kingdom is so large; that
they can control their lives eventually, with great parlor
tricks; just by being in control of more and more doppelgangers
in more and more universes. This ESS Cult grows endlessly, and by
doing just this; for the most part. Naturally, there is more; but
time obstructs any chance for me to tell anything worth saying on
this one quick blog.
When
we come back here to waking life from 'dreams', we never are
coming exactly back to where we left, anymore than any two leaves
or snowflakes can ever be the same, down to the level of super
miniature multiplexed combination laws, in the laws of the
Lawtronics. Still, one thing effects another and then that domino
effects still more, and yet there is more to it than even this
old and worn out progression illustration.
Take
my 100 and a half month blog project of trying to piece together
my life, and the problems that have come to be inside of it over
a lot of fucking time. In three dimensions, you can do a lot, but
in five, you can do so much more, and it is not a fantasy or a
make believe delusion as many think, and even David Roth my good
pal once thought as well. This has a life of its own that until
you live in 5-D; you cannot be qualified to make even a small
comment. You'll do it out of arrogance, judging this whole thing
right out of the gate, all half cocked. But unless you ride the
horse, you cannot win the ribbon, or fall and break your neck
either; but you are not even in the
operation, and thus, your judgment would be like your pet
hamster passing judgment on your life today. You most likely
would throw it out with the bathwater unless it was a really nice
report. You get my drift. So now, with a few thinkers following
me; this in and of itself, is why the ESS has recently begun to
send the TAWF back into interactions with me, sort of another
1970 all over again. I don't mind; and I was just scared
shitless, from that horrible experience, but I'll get used to
these deadly people coming back to 'haunt my dreams again'. If I
could gain the confidence of that lovely young girl who got me to
go there with her, and it was all a set up, but one that would
not have happened unless my viewing audience, was thinking enough
thoughts about all my words, here in Morianity online, to indeed
generate this hyperspace-effect, or (HSE), and sometimes this
interchanges with another term, HYPER-SPACE-EQUATION. It is time
you realize this, Morianity is not going to keep secrets from
anyone. I needed some tiny morsel believers, small as it may be,
just to finally make contact with the monster scary TAWF.
Earlier, enough thoughts were generated to get me to my first
initiation with the musical-chapter of the ESS-CULT with the
three ladies of Lakehouse-Lightning-Color. Be real peeps.
Doubting these things just makes you in need of a couch. If this
is not all real and true, there just could not be so many
powerful connecting endless dots, right down to things said to me
by the EW itself in so many ways over so many years now, and the
really convincing unfakable reality. Lakehouse lightning is pink,
purple, and white. Whenever I am at this place, Diana leaves me
as her blond, turns into her true form and flashes these three
lovely colors at me. Even in the mortal waking plane of life,
there are times when only these three colors come to me in her
lightning. There is no way to rationally explain this away no
matter how many of you out here might want to insist on giving it
your best Benitar shot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You know good peeps, when I first was choking to
death back in early June of 1984, I was trying to sleep and fell
into a nightmare that was more like walking into Dante and his
entire hell circles all at the same time. I was in worse agony in
the ''dream'', and I was with a lot of strange elongated looking
entities that were running out on the track at my old high
school, Haddon township high, in Westmont, New Jersey, USA-ESMWG.
Suddenly I was with them, and we all stopped, and began doing
callisthenics type of exercising. Why this wild experience
happened in the vastness of hyperspace is anyone's best bizarre
guess. But let me examine the word for a quick second here.
CALLIO's, THE NICKS, Make the word exactly a duplicate of the
word CALLISTHENICS, and you need to remove the 'O' in Callio, and
the 'K' in Nick. John king and his 1996 water hose at Atlantic
City, remember that anybody? He kept ordering me to do that
absurd thing when I return back to my car, and kept repeating the
word in a firm voice over and over, ''OK-OK-OK-OK''!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And when John on 10-SC Avenue stopped guarding the parking lot
owned by his Greek parents, to come swim with me in the ocean,
WHO WAS GUARDING IT? If he was in the ocean with me, who was
guarding the lot? Hell if this was about a quarter century before
that, I could just ask here, “WHO'S MINDING THE MINT”, and I
sure as mother fucking shit eating hell am not talking about
Chocolate-Mint Ice Cream!
Then there is the religion of sight and Sound,
AKA ECKANKAR. This got me started towards where my journey has
all led me into today. Take the pronunciation of the word
callisthenics, and we get the phonetic KAL & ECK. Again, by
itself, big deal. But why did I have this wild interaction while
I laid in that nightmarish 1983 death torture coma; doing these
exercises, and not just anywhere, but back at my old high school?
Nothing happens for no reason. I learned this a long long time
ago, nothing just fucking happens. I don't care if it is a Tomcat
fight outside your window at 3 in the morning. The old expression
always applies and not just when it's convenient. There's a
reason for the season. There's also a reason for all else. Jim
Burr may disagree, but he knows that I'll fight to the death for
his right and privilege to do just that, and call me an asshole
at the same time!
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FOLKS
THE PROBLEM WITH KNOWING WHAT I KNOW, IS THAT THERE IS NO CONSTANT,
AND ALL THINGS ARE RELATIVE TO EACH OTHER; EVEN THE SPEED OF LIGHT.
LOOK AT HOW THE BLOG JUST FROZE UP WHERE THE COMMENTER IS SAYING
THAT THERE IS ONLY MY SIDE OF THE CONVERTION. IN TRUTH, THERE IS A
VIRTUALLY UNLIMITED OTHER SIDE TO ALL OF THOSE CONVERSATIONS, AND
ONLY HYPERSPACE IN ITS ENTIRETY, CAN EVER HOPE TO FILL IN ALL OF THE
BLANKS. THIS IS NOT JUST ME, THIS APPLIES TO ALL OF
YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't know what my 20 is anymore Lenny 601
McKinnon, but in 2010 it was at 2520 Orange Avenue, up at the
Harvest, http://www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/
and yes, certain numbers cannot be run away from, so why try, Mizz
Chiffon????????? I'll just be a sweet talkin' guy, and maybe not so
many people will keep hating my pathetic miserable pitiful little
old guts. WHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! YOU KNOW, THE FUNNY PART MISTER MIKE
MCNULTY, IS THAT THE LAUGH IS ON ME; AND NOT ON ANY OF YOU. SO ROCK
ON, LAUGH ON, AND ON ON, FOR ALL I GIVE A HECK, TRUMP OLD
BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah I was 'scaaaaaared', David, Kel, and Donald.
Keisha can really send you to the moon without a rocket, and so can
Loca Disney. CRUNCH-CRACK!
All
the connections to all the things in my life, your life, our lives,
the whole Mexican 27 foot Pizza pie; is because
of very strange and spooky forces;
to quote the great pal of my dad, sir Professor Einstein of
Princeton university in a place called Roddenberry New Jersey
McNulty Laugh time; and to give you all the grand finale' here,
parallel universes indeed can effect and rub into each other
electromagnetically, and do; every time electrical energy and humans
connect together; but there is no way in these hyperspace
dream-downs, to effect the locale where we dream off of or FROM, or
is there, Mister Trump? I'll give you one thing, when you want to do
something, Jeese Louise, surfer Fonty, and Holy
Callio CALL-10 AT&T, and Merry Christmas to all EXPLORATRONS OF
TYPE-3,
who can make it Christmas, or any other day; as
they flash across the fifth dimensional hyperspace in the whispering
of a silent dream.
x
x
x
x
x
x x x x
x
x
x
Hay
lovely Louise Hendershodt, from Northeast, Maryland. You may not
remember me from the late nineteen sixties, but if you do, and are
out there; you
know I am looping in this endless time cycle.
You know my hell is real. Who else knew about the RED-X?
Who else could have known? Maybe you nice peeps at ABC can build me
a timer and a movie camera built inside a case as one machine, so
that I won't miss my fave show when I go to Detention Hall at HTHS.
Maybe the © Office examiners have released the early eighties tapes
recorded from Herby Lett's Laser Playfield, that sent me hurling a
lot further away than 5133 Oakland Street with a bunch of nutcase
firemen yelling through my telephone, “Munikay, Munikay, break
your codes off, break your codes off, code 2 code 2, Munikay. Maybe
he should have been yelling green light, so the Auxiliary Police
Officer would fire his illegal weapon into the crowds of Manhattan.
Well, one had to happen first and one had to happen second. On the
Astral Plane, this is not the case, they both could happen at the
same instant. Well in any event, I longer watch the WEE CHANNEL, or
Teddy Turners' TNT Channel, since they are playing this fucking
stupid game of never putting any LAW & ORDER shows on that date
past 2003. Fucking screw you, who needs you, I will just simply go
and buy the mother fuckiGN box set someday,
assholes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jupiter,
Florida, welcomes you to Morianity, Courtesy of Channel 12-TV.
ALONG
WITH THE GREAT WEATHER BUG APPLICATION.
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR, BLOGS 2006-2014
- theansweristheqyuestion
- Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness.
-
Add to Your Facebook Timeline
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On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views in five original blogs – 2970
THESE ORIGINAL BLOGS
HOW
I LOVE YOU, BEAUTIFUL MOON GODDESS!
THAT
AIN'T NO CHEAPSKATE WHITE CIRCLE BACKDROP, MISTER WOOOOOOOOOOOLF. NO
WOLF IN THIS WORLD WOULD HOUL AT THAT CHEAP FAKE WHITE CIRCLE OF
YOURS, BUD!!!
YES
FOLKS, THE STOCK MARKET FLEW UP YESTERDAY, FRIDAY; AND ALSO WAS WAY
UP ON THE WEEK, JUST AS I SAID IT WOULD BE. NOW,
I AM ALL DUNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That
dam techno-pop project that wrecked my life, and began my 3rd
MAJOR BEARISH LIFE CYCLE back on 08/28/2013; was a foolish move. I
should have just obeyed my TQ, and not
been a Ma-shell-fish,
in or out of 1980
and its later to follow Harry Callas invert digit year, 2008.
Still, what was this shit all about in middle November of 1979, and
yes, that 1970 shit was another famous ETTOS
hack-typo
or 'PBHE'
as early Morianity called these dam parkway-driveway deals; but yes;
it is what it is, or 134-25; but I should have obeyed. I
have learned that when I disobey and refuse to play her really cool
16 year old games; it makes the distance, while I am here in
hyperspace, between us; grow way more agonizingly long and far.
I
can't deal with that, and will now obey a lot of her commands to me;
and she knows what I mean. Just give me 60 days, and I will do it;
and I will never ever do another KFP on your print from that tape
again, and I am very very sorry for making you mad at me. Your
Zeranniss Arthur Yancy Jones is just your stupid old white doggie
from Sahasra Dal Kanwal, your great city, in infinity.
FOLKS,
THE BLOG WITH THE ADDRESS ABOVE IS WAY COOL. IT WILL TELL YOU A LOT
ABOUT THE EARTH HISTORY OF THIS BREED OF DOG. OF COURSE, BETWEEN YOU
AND ME FOLKS, AND THE LAMP POSTS OF THE UNIVERSE; ALL THINGS ON THIS
EARTH HAVE A TRUER HOME OF ORIGIN, ON WHAT MANY INTO HEAVY SPIRITISM
CALL AND LABEL, THE ASTRAL-PLANE or just the spirit-world.
YEAH HE'S SAYING, “I
LOVE YOU SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE, ALMIGHTY TEEN-QUEEN”.
IT
IS 8:19 AM ON MAY 24; and I just got a super mother fucking MAJOR
LEFT-SIDE DEATH ANDROID-ANGEL
ATTACK AND ASSAULT ON ME; YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!
I
reside in eternity,
as a large WHITE DOG. When the great Almighty Sarah-Stacey Krassle
freed me, and got me out of that horrible hell, or DOGTOWN; she
placed many black spots all over my body, and allowed me to speak in
words. She gave me the CITY-NAME of YANCY.
On the Astral-Plane, YANCY is the word for polka
dot;
and she placed one heck of a lot of polka dots and splotches, all
over my body. I will always love the great Sarah Krassle, there; and
even here in the mortal realm; so long as she permits me to retain
flesh existence memories of HER, and HER wonderful GREAT CITY of
SDK, in the great Astral plane Capitol Province, of Olympia.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!
MY BLOGS: PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.
United
States Copyright Office Records, pasted in part:
ISIS-JUPITER
HAS HER WITNESSES, NOW I NEED MINE. THE ONLY
PROBLEM IS THAT I DON'T HAVE ANY, MISTER WILD GLARRY EYES BILLY
CROUCH!!!!!!!!! The glarry eyed Billy Crouch from the Court ordered
Harvest community Service in 2010. Wow, if I let myself remember
2010 to clearly, I would lose my cunt sniffing fucking sanity,
ladies and gentlemen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This includes Tim's
wild nocturnal's
that came to pass in close hyperspace brush-bys such as the
Presidential bear hug, and then the Humpty Dumpty and Dawn and MY
talking on the phone from some Indian River County home purchased by
the family. Wow and just when you thought you had escaped. Well, I
should have listened harder, right Tony Traitor Bonjovi? I never
forget shit, but I sure fuckiGN try to, my
peeps!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So
what is the big deal about what President Cool Forehead said, and
also, what Sarah said three times on 10-SC Avenue, only the third
time, it was not the 10-SC Avenue from this world, but was somewhere
else in fifth dimensional hyperspace in a parallel 4-D universe?
Just what is all tied up with Hussein and then her obsession with
lighter verses darker, and then finally, this wild Pack-Mountain-Man
Cosmic-Game, called, “GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS”?
Well,
to quote what one of her younger friends said in one of her great
artistic projects of more recent times, spanning a near quarter
century career now, “LET'S EXPLORE THIS”, yes lovely girl from
Jamaica, let us do just that, to quote Christopher Bennett from
2005, at Cifaloglio!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
same project makes no bones about my daughter's fixation on skin
tone, so now that this along with
King
SH's brother
is
out of the way, we will march right into the heart of the matter,
none other than her great game, GTNOTG, almost as in, get it or not,
in or out of all educational deals and other unpleasantrys in or out
of 1972 and 1982.
GUESS
who just fucking died? ME! Unfortunately
I was laser-retraced. Folks this may have happened right now and I
would never know it. It happened many times. The time on route 45 in
Woodbury Heights in New Jersey; there is no way I should be here. I
crashed right into a speeding police squad car going down 45 and I
was going across it with my car radio up too loud with Donna singing
the fucking morning light song to me, if memory serves. I remember
the officers eyeballs going right through my body, and it was as
though nothing had ever happened, only I know dam well it did. There
is no way out for me, hell my heart totally exploded at the
Cifaloglio job site just shy of when else but Christmas night that
weekend in 2006. Here I am good as new, Frank A&R Flowerman
Callio. Meet me in that restaurant you go to, you know the one, as
I'll be heading out of this world for a few hours after I post this.
I wanna' talk to you Frank, whether your Aunt Victoria likes it or
not. Guess she forgot how enthralled she used to get in July of 1970
over my, to quote her, “gorgeous hair”. If she wanted me so
much, she should have come over like you did,and took me. You had a
real beyond hot girlfriend there, Tom sicko Reale Waterman,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Morianity Foundation
This
foundation is the invention of a man who has been the victim of
terrible harrasment for many years, from powerful high profile
people that ruined his life. It is his sincere desire to someday
have a place where people such as myself, can come to to assist them
from any and all persecutions from anyone or group, all within the
laws of the United States and the world. Also, I make it my goal to
somehow escape the Fonda Fives Curse
that this evil witch bitch has me in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
555555555555555555555555
555555555555555555555555
555555555555555555555555
555555555555555555555555
555555555555555555555555
555555555555555555555555
555555555555555555555555
OH
SHIT, CAPTAIN KIRK,
WHERE'S
OUR FRIEND Gary Mitchell Glareyes Billy
Crouch??????????????????????? Jeese-Louise, SF!
555555555555555555555555
At
the risk of being pigeonholed as the Girl
Who Writes About Crazy Cursing Dudes, I bring you Mark from New
Jersey. Mark has far-ranging theories on time travel, Armageddon,
roulette and Donna Summer (the DEVIL!), which he angrily discusses
in various telephone conversations.
Station
Manager Ken clued me in to this fella recently. He was given a
CD called “The Meaning of Life.” The back copy states that it
was made from a cassette found on the side of the road bearing the
same title. He’s really difficult to listen to, for a couple of
reasons- The recordings only capture Mark’s side of the
conversation and they seem to have been recorded either by a
microphone placed somewhere in the room or possibly while Mark was
standing outside on a windy day. More importantly, he is insane.
Completely, violently insane.
Mark claims to be both
a time traveler and a descendant of King David. His family will
bring about the apocalypse through the activation of the Christ
Android, currently dormant inside the 12 Planet. And also that the
50 richest families in the world are trying to do him in. Covertly,
of course. Also against him is Donna Summer, the Devil. (Whether he
means the disco Donna Summer, or WFMU’s
own Jason Forrest isn’t clear.)
Here then, are three selections from
Mark’s version of reality:
If you need more Mark from NJ,
Aquarius
Records would be happy to sell you a cd-r.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m
going to go cover my windows with aluminum foil.
Posted by Listener
Therese on December 12, 2006 at 01:28 AM in Audio
Mysteries, MP3s,
New Jersey,
Religion |
Permalink
Unchanged,
no 'textnopopping' alterations on original posted text from, the
almighty WFMU RADIO, WOW DANIEL MACKEY, YO!!!!!!!!
I
AM GETTING OUT OF DODGE, CAPTAIN CALLIO, AND SCREW-U!!!!!!!!
I
TOLD YOU GINA, IT IS UP DAY AFTER DAY!!!!!!!!!!
IF
SOMEONE WILL JUST MOTHER FUCKING BELIEVE ME,
AND TAKE ME SERIOUSLY; WE COULD ALL
BECOME FUCKING TWAT ASS TRILLIONAIRES, YO!!!
UP
AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND UP AND
UP; WHILE
I GO KAPLOOEY!
LIFE
FOR ME IS ONE VERY LONG NIGHTMARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DECEMBER
07, 1996; a
date that will live in infamy for me, kind peeps, fitting statement
for a fuckiGN Memorial Day helliday-holiday!!!!!!!!!!!!
“THE
MAGIC TOOL THAT CAN PREDICT DOW JONES
PRICES WITH 80%+ ACCURACY, ENDLESSLY, AND IS MY
PERSECUTION, IN THE UNITED STATES; SINCE THIS BEGAN
IN 1986”
So
where are you when I need you, Franklin Delano Roosevelt?
People make as much sense to
me as a pile of joke books, stacked to the mountain tops. I honestly
am not being critical, merely observant. They laugh at me and pick
on me for being crazy, and they all do and act out things ten times
crazier than anything I ever fucking do. They ask me questions and
then stop communicating with me, they wonder why I claim to still be
stalked because I move a few states away when those who are doing
this to me could easily follow me straight to the stars if they
wanted to. I honestly have no words for all this, folks, so I'll
fucking sit in here and just shut my big ass god dam mouth up!
Thank
the great
state of Missouri
and their great Disbelievers Club, for my life,
everybody!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
told you all she said this to me, just as I told you GINA, that the
DOW JONES would be 17,000 points before the end of 2013, and 30,000
points by the end of next year. I don't need to be the great Cooley
Hall Christmas Tree Angel, or even the original printer of the
initials EWI, do I Mayor Bloomberg, oh kind
sir?????????????????????????? Cut me a break, Margie!
On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views – 2974
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Not
boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can
honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or
have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through
hyperspace, with awareness
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You forgot your mom's
birthday! What can you make out of super glue and olive pits?
An
angry mother. At the risk of sounding negative, the
only thing one may be truly sure of, is that you cannot be sure of
anything.
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