BLOG
64 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN
BOTBAR-DATE,
2018 (AKA) 11 November.
David
Charles Roth, made a very powerful observation about me, and my
serious problems in this life; back in the early
nineteen-nineties. He said that the enemies
have a first objective with me at all
times, and he has noticed the power of this. He even went so far as
to call it an 'absolute'. He
was discussing 'ISOLATION'.
If your enemy, whoever they may be; can keep a person totally
isolated, “shielded” from any relief of
their relentless persecution that goes on day and night, year
in and year out; then total
destruction of their victim is guaranteed. This is not a
tactic that is some giant secret. It is a well
known and often performed ritual of many enemies of many victims.
Even the great story of the Wizard, Mister
Harry Potter, is not
ignorant of this major and wild truth. The
2007 Harry Potter Movie has this very item mentioned, right around
the part in the show where the teacher makes Harry write that 'he
should not tell lies', and then it appeared on his hand. Remember
that this is very old news to me. Before we explore more about
this, we must reinforce the powerful reality of synchronicity, and
symbolic coincidences once more. Telling lies, WOW to this one. And
it wasn't even my fault. Let me
explain. I was finishing my dinner, and just watching
some junk on television, while my mind began to wander; and poof,
suddenly I remembered something. It was the great television law
show, “Law & Order” that
had a character named Estelle Mueller.
It was not the maiden name of Estelle Bassler,
and I confused this information, in my old age; sorry people. She
was born Estelle Andersen, and then went on to marry a man named
Robert Bassler. Oh yes, “when
I'm wrong”, Dirty Dancing Lenny Briscoe, “I say I'm wrong”,
Mister Patrick Suazey. Yes great
almighty spellchecker, I know the name is misspelled. Thankx for
nothing for helping me spell it correctly. WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
Let's
further examine the coincidence of not telling lies, and my
accidental blogging about the 'Mueller name'.
I would have gone to some great lengths to follow us all down lots of
wild and extensive pathways, that were based on Misses Bassler's
adopted son Chester Perkowski, but now, it is all null and void,
since this was obviously an incorrect misperception about lots of
things on my part. There was a lot of stuff that this man had thought
and done, according to our great telephone conversations back in
1997, Misses Bassler and myself. She confided
in me with quite a lot of things. She insisted that I also had
false memories about which side of the street Sarah's shop was on.
She said that the shop was inside of the hotel, her hotel, the
Bolivar; and was on the south side of Tennessee Avenue, not the north
side as I absolutely knew that I remembered it to be. I
absolutely remember Sarah coming out from there one day on the north
side, and then as I approached her from the Atlantic City
boardwalk's off-ramp, she proceeded to run out to an approaching car,
and yell into whoever was driving it, with the quotation that I won't
forget in another five hundred years, “Your
friends are in the shop”. Still, all of this not
withstanding, we all make mistakes, and nobody's
darn memories are totally perfect,
Mister Bruce Alan Pennock.
I was going to get into powerful topics about the political stuff
going on in the days of my encounters with
lovely Sarah. I was going to discuss how Chester seemed to go
postal one day when he was watching television, at his home at 30
South Plaza Place, in South Atlantic City; and when the Secretary of
Defense came on, Mister McNamara; and many other powerful
Watergate-connected things.
BUTTTTTTT, since this was based on my
temporary false memory of the MUELLER NAME, it
is now all moot. So my point
is that, along with another item; kind folks. I
am man enough to admit it when I am wrong, unlike a whole lot
of other darn human beings who are simply
too proud!
Quantum
Physicists try to complicate a whole
lot of things. Let's look at lots of darn junk and really try
and keep things simple as pie, not pi. Let's say you the reader of
these words, has a way of totally knowing that my Huntington Curse is
real. Proceeding with this accordingly, you also know with a one
hundred percent certainty, that this entire physical world is rigged
by puppeteers, who can pull any and all strings, when and if they
ever so choose to do. Now from there, take my
going to the Golden Nugget Hotel Casino on Halloween Day, October 31,
1983, as I did, in Atlantic City. This is the time where
I lost thirty two straight fifty-fifty chance gaming bets, at
one of their casino roulette tables; where they were blasting out
that horrible Sinatra song, “Pick yourself
up, dust yourself off, and start all over again”. I remember
this so clearly that it is dangling here on my walls while I type
these words, like huge gobs of used freaking chewing gum. The
odds of losing or winning 32 straight 50-50 chance bets are larger by
far than playing and winning the lottery games Mega-Million
and Power Ball. I've
previously blogged and discussed this very issue, and for good
reason. It fits now into what I am going to further explore with all
of you, my Blogaudians. Okay, so you are the Astral Plane Puppeteers,
and you have created a huge hologram game similar to the Star Trek
Next Generation Holodeck, on the Starship Enterprise, only much,
much, much, greater and larger, as it is
this entire creation. You have created
this Huntington family curse, and along comes the present
generation of the people born in the middle twentieth century, from
whom someone must be selected, sort of as in the great sixties show,
DARK SHADOWS, and their lottery
curse and Mister Morgan Collins.
So after the death of my cousin, Mister Arthur Huntington, up in
Braintree, Massachusetts, a baby is born in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania,
named Mark Wayne Mohr, grandson of Grace Isabel Huntington. It is
very important to them that they wipe me totally out, and force me
into bankruptcy, and the opportunity is perfectly there for them to
do as much when I take my last $800.00 to the Golden Nugget Casino
that Halloween Day in 1983. If however, I were to go backward in time
right now, and knew exactly where I had placed those outside roulette
bets, and bet the complete opposite, what do you honestly believe
would happen, in light of seeing this in the way that Morianity is
telling it to you all? You got it, so why complicate this junk, oh
great Quantum World Experts? If I had bet RED
on BET 6, I am now betting BLACK.
If I had bet ODD on BET 10, I am now
betting EVEN. All
32 bets would be reversed. How much money would you want
to bet me, that all 32 bets would lose again?
Please bet against me with millions, yo, as
I'll win that bet, if no other. You see,
they want me to lose and go bankrupt, and they don't care if I
bet on Santa Claus dropping down the
chimney, as they would make the wheel come out, the Easter
Bunny. It doesn't freaking matter what I would ever do, as the
motive and goal of these horrible nightmare dirt bag HALLS-FAWCES,
is to make me suffer under this HUNTINGTON
CURSE, and it is really totally honestly, to
quote Mister Henningsen, “JUST
THAT SIMPLE, MARK”!!!!!
Now
even someone under this unspeakable unmentionable horrific curse, has
some avenues that are not totally and absolutely rotten to the core.
There are still the Lawtronics that work for
everyone, and that includes the CHOSEN-HUNTINGTON.
When I seek after truth and wisdom, using the laws of (NUKE RULES)
Synchronicity and symbolic coincidence, the HALLS-FAWCES
still have to follow the system, and open doors and shine lights for
me to find and to see stuff. Nothing escapes
LAWTRONICS or the nuke-rules. Not even the effen Huntington
Curse!
When
I was doing my musical project, two projects ago, back
in 2007, and copyrighted on October
31, 2007, called “Karaoke
Lunch Break at the Sorian-18 Guardhouse”; and was doing
the most important song on it, the recreation
of the 1980 “LOIS FOCA” song; there was some weird
electronic screw up that occurred. I have already told about this and
blogged it somewhere, over the past dozen years or so; but let's
refresh all of our memories here, kind people, yo! Because things did
not come out originally on the song the way I had recorded it, I was
ticked off as heck, and made dog barking sounds that harmonized with
the music at the opening of the song. I was going to change this
later on, but someone who heard it, told me that it was novel and so
weird it was cool and that I should keep it on the track. So I did.
This made a huge impression on my daughter, unless of course, Mister
Redfield sir, you wish to believe that dog barking stuff on her 2009
movie in the math class, was just another millions or billions to one
coincidence. I know I don't. WHAAAAAAAAA!
Why
do little things like this even matter? I can just hear people from
my past such as for one great example, my ex-bizz-partner, Mister
Pedersen might say, and I know that I know him well enough to make
that claim, and I mean absolutely nothing offensive here whatsoever.
Simple truth, or as Dawn King would say it if she were still amongst
us, “Mark, it is what it is”. Well,
this all led to her doing things that then led me to seeing other and
greater truths, and things went snowballing from there, into major
incredible stuff. BUTTTTTTTTT, none of this would have happened if I
had not been in that Cifaloglio guardhouse, doing that musical
project that night, AND having the great rotten HALLS-FAWCES screw up
the original take on the karaoke tape. So yes, I am a victim of this
endless Huntington Curse, BUTTTTTTTT, things can still be turned into
some good here and there, with the full understanding of Mister James
Redfield, and his synchronicity wisdom. Of course, I was discussing
things similar to this with my pal David Roth, even before this great
man, and his great books. I'm not looking for credit for anything
here, just speaking truths, as only truth is worth any thing, no
matter what. The happiest and wealthiest person on Earth, can wake up
tomorrow morning, and be removed from truth and not remember anything
about who he or she is, or be zapped into some delusions from mental
illness, due to a sudden worsening of a brain tumor, or any number of
nasty possibilities. What good is this person's life then? Remove the
truth, and you have a toilet house, filled up to the rim, and that
cannot be flushed. That's my opinion, and my two cents. See if you
can add another 98 cents and turn it into a buck, Senator
Thompson, sir! WHOOPS, I'll need to
borrow some of Patty's candles if I want him to hear me, yo!
END
TRANSMISSION.
BLOG
63 OF TWENTY EIGHTEEN
SUB-TITLE:
''GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS''
CONTINUING CHAPTERS
IN MORIANITY'S RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM 3
I
may not be the great Kid-Dy-NO-Mite-Jay-Jay Evans. There's no
dispute about this on my part, and so I won't even attempt to argue
it. Still, all of these things led to the Cooley
High, following my four year
stint at the Cooley Hall.
Yes, there are zillions of coincidences that I
do not believe in, and you may definitely count
this as one of them. BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, are
there places where coincidences are indeed quite totally legitimate
and real? Of course there are. There is no such
thing as NEVER, not to an existor,
and we're all existors, or as Morianity calls us, “Purgatites”.
Before moving along with this, my nabes are annoying me this Saturday
afternoon with lots of doors and in and out activity. ROACHES of
course follow suit, and are all over the place; but this is par for
the gash darn stinking course, to quote my late
and great Aunt Geraldine
Snow
Mason! One nice thing is
that it's only freaking seventy-one degrees today, and the sun is
beginning to creep ever and ever lower now, in the middle autumn
skies; so it won't be getting hotter like it was yesterday while I
was out on some local errands, and making me perspire my dog gone
testicles off!
I
was in Atlantic City; and for
absolutely no reason whatsoever, I
was assaulted by these two lifeguard
mascot scumbags, and then mocked and jeered by the entire beach
patrol, along with the Atlantic City
Police Department; on that hot
summer day back in 1975. I know now that Paula King,
and Sarah Callio, and other local
forces, told these dudes to kick the
junk out of me that day. I
cannot prove this of course. But my point is that as these dirt
bag mother loving big butt dudes were roughing me up on the beach
that day, as well as scaring me to death later, on land, on Pacific
Avenue, right by a small motel that I ran into, and locked myself in
the bathroom, while the owners called the freaking cops for me; but
these dirt holes grabbed me around MY
NECK, symbolizing CHOKING
of course. Now anyone who meticulously studies the great
holy words that are written in the Christian
King James Version of the Bible, knows quite gash darn well,
that all throughout this great book, the entire theme of it is all
about great prophets, being given great
revelations, of great symbolizing messages; that pertain to a
time yet to come; where this Almighty God is planning to visit our
planet, as a human being; and I speak of our
LORD, JESUS CHRIST. The entire thing is about symbolic
messages of God's journey to our world through the womb of
a young lady; the blessed Mary, mother of
God. So if this entire thing is all about SYMBOLISM,
then please don't dismiss stuff, when I say that all of this is
totally major symbolically connected, right
down to this assault on me, and my
being neck-grabbed or (CHOKED)!!!!! Thank You very much my
kind folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Just
how many coincidences are just that, in my life, and how many are
not? my 1991 coworker Mister Arthur Crane, springs to my mind, as I
type that question out. He told me once, “Mark,
you're imagining very little if any of the junk that's happening
around you”. That's a quote, Mister Adam Schiff of 'L&O'.
I also don't believe the Quantum-World is loaded with random chance
items either, well, the majority of them anyway. They appear to be
random scientifically, yes. BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT,
ARE THEY REALLY RANDOM????????? Was the library
hack in 2010 following the strange “BUT”
word on my daughter's 2009 movie, truly a RANDOM
item? You'll forgive this poor old dumb butt blogger, hopefully; for
not buying into that nonsense for a golly-gee whiz microseck, because
kind folks, I absolutely know, this was no
coincidence. BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT
on top of that, then this same wild hack got onto my MicroSUCKS
Spellchecker system a week or so ago. LIKE WOW and like
WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
Before
I would even hope to seriously go on with the discussions of
symbolism, synchronicity, and coincidence, on a level where an
enlightened soul realizes that life does not contain such things, but
actually exists AS such things; I would have to be totally
convinced that a serious number of Blogaudians, actually read books,
written in the nineties by the author and great
Father of the New Age, Mister James Redfield. Then we could
have a much truer meeting of the minds, without endless shadows of
doubt being formed in the mind of my Blogaudians as to, 'well,
that's all just nut-case whack-job Mountainpen's opinion'.
Instead, you would then come to realize, that a
serious, and well educated man; totally believes
everything that I am discussing herein.
My
illegals from across the hallway are major annoying me today. But
what else is new, same old same old?
This is also abbreviated in Morianity as SOSO-WEIN.
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG, ROACHES, ROACHES, ROACHES,
ROACHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SOSO-WEIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It
is 4:07 Post Meridian on 10 November of 2018. This has
absolutely not been the 1802 scrambled-digit-year that I was
expecting. So why do some things in these wild symbolic truths appear
to work out, and not others? I mean, we all remember the 2008
Philadelphia World Series, at least if you're a serious
baseball fan, and especially a Philadelphian. We remember the 1980
World Series as well, and yes, although the entire digits of 1980 and
2008 are not a fully scrambled pair, the last two digits that
people who use dates very frequently know totally well, are the ones
used for a quick calendrical representation. Everyone was discussing
back then, oh boy, 80 and 08,
and the two World Series wins for the wonderful
Philadelphia Phillies. So yes, why sometimes and why not other times?
Why are the greatest world renown psychics correct and accurate about
a lot of their predictions, but they cannot seem to always get it
right? Again, the scientific logic behind all of this is that the
Quantum World is inherently random, and so the larger constructed
reality made up around that, also must be. Morianity
however does not believe random is quite what the scientific
community perceives it as. I know for a fact that RANDOM
is really a mere disguised pattern. LAWTRONICS is a design
from inside of the Purgatory, that keeps most of its secrets. Some
secrets are indeed revealed if enough
persistent searching is done. This is why the Holy Words of
the Christian Bible, and our Lord Jesus
said to his disciples, “Seek and you'll find,
knock and doors will open”. The LAWTRON MUST reveal
information and wisdom, according to the amount of diligence on the
part of the seeker. Anyone can see these truths if they just look at
it like this. Go to the library or go online and research some topic
for a day or even maybe a week or two. You will get some answers. But
go four years to college, and you will come out equipped with the
ability to pursue a profitable and hopefully an enjoyable career,
that comes with lifelong satisfaction achievements and benefits. In
other words, I do not claim that a mere curiosity seeker who is hot
one minute and then cold the next, is going to unravel the secrets of
Lex Luther's chewing gum universe; Miss Tessmocker, and Sir Odis!
WHAAAAAAAAHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The
past few nights, I have been on the beaches
of Atlantic City, AGAIN, as well as on the Pennsylvania
Starburn property. The night before last, my older
daughter was there. She had purchased two boxes of some wild looking
exotic cheese, and was with myself and another person, and we were
walking around; and she asked me if I would do her a favor. I
am not able to safely blog any more about this wild experience,
other than to say that it was more vivid and lucid of a
dreaming-interaction, than even the ones that I
was having a lot in the later part of 2008, and into the year 2009,
while I was back living with her distant cousins, the Kings. David
Roth was also there, and was totally different than the past five
years or so in dreaming-interactions. I concluded that this is
because I was in that particular parallel
universe where I have Starburn
operating. Cousin Donald
was never born in that universe. Makes anyone who takes any of this
seriously, really wonder? When I wrote my book in
1994, called, “The Permission
Barrier”; I 'created' a lot of
'P4E' realities around me. I created hospital patients and
their bizarre behavior towards me, the Hammonton, New Jersey
automobile accident, and the re-airing of the great soap-show of the
sixties-'Dark Shadows' on the Syfy
Channel; to mention a mere slice in this wild esoteric bread
loaf! Phase 4 Entities or (P4E),
are Astral Plane entities (Purgatites),
who attempt while they dream out into this nuclear hyperspace, to
do it in cheated ways that make them superior to others,
in this dream here of waking life, or breaking other similar types of
rules in the Lawtronic system, that is built into everything. Some
have asked me, well then MOUNTAINPEN,
who built this? Let me tell you. The Lawtrons are
counterparts. We are the Lawtrons, asleep here while we 're-energize'
so to speak. Einstein's great and trustworthy formula in reverse,
says that we need to eventually dream here because we run out of our
energy there, because Plank time has the
tiniest little bit of electron-mass and time inside of it,
just enough to cause energy expenditure after enough endless Astral
interactions. Those of us who are in the
minority, and attempt to dream here breaking the rules; are no
different than the minority of
criminals right here. Their punishment is that instead of
getting to dream the way the rest of us do here; they
become the fantasy-part of the rest of us; such as our
wildest dreams, and all of the great things that authors write, and
musicians compose; the entire 9-yards, or 324
inches as Morianity calls it. So with all of this said,
when we go to sleep and have dreams (dreaming-interactions), as
TYPE-1-EXPLORATRONS; is this really some
random deal? The same people who think that life is all really and
truly just a jumbled up random of zillions of chance encounters with
events and situations would say YES. I
of course, the Mountainpen, SAY NO!
I do not buy into that random junk for a lousy teeny tiny wee
microseck; my kind folks!
Now
when we take a much larger picture of the entire fifth dimension,
we can see things a lot truer. Just as
inside any one universe, we, or those awake and alive; appear to be
living and interacting with those whom we know and deal with on a
daily basis, and things appear to have a large
cohesiveness to them, at least for the most part. We don't
suddenly drive down a road, and then the road turns into a gigantic
pizza pie. Fine. But that is only because we
ARE DEALING IN ONE REALITY, or parallel universe, inside of
the gargantuan fifth dimensional hyperspace that makes up our world
and universe, along with countless endless other ones. I
am not saying that becoming a TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON,
won't allow us to indeed have more effect and control over our larger
fifth dimensional beingness, BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT
I am saying, to all Libraries and HACKERS everywhere; THAT
indeed, most of us mere mortals, living (dreaming)
out here, in the nuclear carbon programmed universe of eventuality;
are just exacting their beingness in a true fifth dimensional way,
and only aware of this fullness in
three-D. It is this lack of enlightened awareness that is
causing us all to be stuck in only three
dimensions, NOT some LAWTRONIC system that is like some
super cosmic cop. We are our own cops, on many
things that we don't realize this to be. We build many of
our own prisons. Morianity is hoping to
tear a lot of them down, eventually. Here's
to hoping!
AS
OF NOVEMBER 21, 2015
Global Audience In Shade Ratio Popularity:
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Brigadoon
and Cooley Hall. Where to even begin discussing an
elaborated version of the information that the Mountainpen has
released so far, in just under thirteen years of blog texts? The
younger generation says it perfectly and I'll quote them, “like
WOW”!
Believe
it or not folks, in order to better tell a lot of the story, and
against the advice of lovely Terry Egghead, from the great Jersey
Harbor-lands; one way NOT TO DO THIS,
is in any normal chronological order.
This, to quote her, may indeed make me appear to be a total
'scatterbrain', but there is absolutely nothing that can be done
about this. That said, I'll need to swing the conversation around
first, to what may appear as a totally unrelated topic. That would be
none other than my repeatedly occurring temporary death, and
especially since the days of my being a member of a very mysterious
health club, called the Haddonwood Club,
in Deptford, New Jersey, USAESMWG, from late in June in 1994, through
the early days in August of 1996. During that entire time, my
residence was at the Highview Apartments,
in Williamstown, New Jersey, USAESMWG. This all ties in, a hundred
freaking percent; but it will require days
of texts and virtually endless blogs. I am in an endless
attempt to compress and abridge my story, and even with it fully
shortened as best as is humanly possible, it will be an incredibly
extensive project to say the least, as folks, I've not yet begun to
really tie all of it together, and tell everything that there is to
tell. IPYT!
Death
appears to be having some weird type of a problem, holding me. Just
going back to my years living at Jenny Plageman's trailer park in
Mullica Township, New Jersey, USAESMWG, there are two major
incidences where I absolutely know that I was dead, kaput, lights
out, done, fine', over, etcetera! One was at my job, the
night after Christmas of 2005, guarding a place called CIFALOGLIO
and the other was inside my trailer with
my door open, and lightning was all over me,
and ended up striking my porch and
burning a section of it off, and frying my
telephone as well as my caller-ID-Box, while I was on the
phone and telling Diana, (Lightning) how
beautiful she is, and how much I love and need her around me, and I
called her a pet name that makes her wild and crazy, “Baby-Blond”.
Now before you go off and say 'just how does
this fit or connect into in any way, Cooley
Hall and Brigadoon';
well, you'll just have to persevere and bear with me for quite a
while, until eventually, things will become totally clear and
succinct. IPYT. The opening point for right now and for this very
present time blog, is that reality can indeed be altered and even
weirdly spliced, just like the old analogue days with tapes and
editing tools and blocks. I know it sounds fantastic, but just as
simply as you can take a movie, if you are an editor; and move it all
around in a totally scrambled up way, so too can all of reality be
similarly altered with hyper advanced technologies that are no more
known and or understood today, than our presently existing technology
would be known or understood three hundred years ago. On
the Astral-Plane, at the Teck Bay
Mystery School, owned by Professor Gawky
Gaukauk; I was shown some powerful stuff about a week ago,
while I was suffering through all of this major election-related
death attack and siege. I had fallen asleep, and somewhere
in-between the time I fell asleep, and the time that I woke back up;
I found myself there, only the great black panther cat was not there.
Instead, there were several underling professor-type instructors
hanging around some giant part of this campus, that I had never seen
or visited before, or if I had, I was unable to retain any waking
mortal mind memory of it. They were talking to me, and explaining how
very simple it is with the right tools and tech, to indeed splice
more than just audio or video stuff, but all of reality, since
reality itself only exists in physical truth, as
two electrons, and one of them telling another one, in sort of a
pictorial fashion, what is happening, and just as an artist
paints a canvas, or a musician creates a musical masterpiece; so too
is all of reality created by this simple reality of one electron
literally speaking to another one, and this process then creates a
photon. This process in a mega chain reaction that is more gargantuan
and huge than any mortal mind could most likely grasp, can then be
interfered with by way of tools and technologies, that are designed
in a very similar fashion as our editing tools are designed to work.
There is no powerful or awesome secret to the tools or the tech, only
that reality itself in the human life we all live, is indeed working
in this way. They showed me years ago a similar item, and I had
forgotten about it. Just as I hit my highlighted areas to be blogged
and then hit my copy commands and then my paste in commands; they
took me out into a huge solar system that was about two hundred
million light years away from here, and they showed me how they used
very similar keys on a tool, and they literally pasted in planets, to
the system, one by one. I saw this, and I was amazed and shocked
beyond any possible way of describing it. But this time, I
was on the Astral-Plane or the Purgatory, or inside of PLANK-TIME.
These wild instructors were showing me examples. One of them pulled
out a small box that showed me a parallel universe not that distant
from right here, and people were calling it the year 2026, and were
wearing watch-phones. You just hit a button and a large holographic
image is beside you. They use an app where the brain itself measures
neuron pulses, and you can think after that, and the hologram
responds. They told me it may be a similar world to my own, and if it
is, I will be seeing this in about eight years give or take, allowing
for time differences between the two parallel worlds. As soon as they
showed me that, my mind instantly remembered that an entire year ago
or more, I was in that parallel universe where my younger daughter
Pee had recently been released from the Egg Harbor City Harborfields
Detention Center. She had invented this, and as many of you know, she
is sort of the queen of the E-BAY over in that parallel world.
I remembered fully that she is now a partner in the system, and owns
35% of the stock, since her transport-tower invention is being used
by them; and no longer are products shipped back and forth as in the
olden days before her invention was completed. There is a powerful
whole lot more to all of this, but I would be typing for days and
days just scratching the surface a tiny teeny bit. Then there is the
lady who owned the Bolivar Hotel in Atlantic City, back in the days
when I would vacation down there on Tennessee Avenue with my mom, and
would see the mysterious 'SARAH'-girl from time to time. I never met
this dude, but she adopted along with her husband, a boy named
Chester Perkowski. He was a comic fan on a huge scale, a large super
hero comic book collector, and a major participant in many “60's
things” that are too complex to get into right now. Her maiden name
was Estelle Mueller. I believe that she is related to the man who is
investigating the Russian stuff with President Trump. Jonathan Schau,
the Masonic Lodge Brother who I totally believe murdered my late pal,
Mister Roth, worked as a security guard in Philadelphia, at a
building called the DRAKE TOWERS. I
don't believe in that coincidence either, you know, Sir
Francis of England, and the murder of my 22nd
grandmother, Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots. I don't buy the
Drake coincidence and I don't buy the Mueller coincidence. Not for a
lousy stinking nanosecond! I simply cannot
afford the luxury of believing in coincidences! Those were the
precise words of good old “Y-Jimmy-Y, Mister Jim Burr, of
Gloucester! Now before I end up freaking digressing too much folks;
these two Teck-B instructors were in a human form, while they were
revealing all of this to me, as I said, about a week back in a very
lucid, and vivid, and powerful
dreaming-interaction. They showed me how Jesus was
resurrected by way of using reality-splicing, and they showed me the
near future time in my own world, where the stock market was moving
past the 50,000 point mark. Then they suddenly glowed extremely
brilliantly, and then they resumed their natural and truer shapes.
They were COINS. I have told how
there are two types of ASTRAL-GODS, the
COINS and the COILS.
Diana Arteemis and her entire family are COILS. Coins are not all
that different, as they can take a human type of form, and they also
are filled with all sorts of lovely and bright colors. They look like
gigantic coins. They may be what humans falsely perceive as flying
saucers as well. Who can know? All I do know is that these coins
revealed a lot of wild junk to me about a week ago, but I was
suffering through so much darn death persecution that I was just way
too darn busy to blog about that, back then. With the freaking darn
elections over, naturally, things are marginally better. Not enough
to make me want to jump up and sing and dance, but they're marginally
better for right now. Ann King would chime in right about now with
her famous line of “WHOOPIE”, or “BIG
WHOOP”, either or! I'll chime in with the McNulty
sarcasm chuckle, you know, AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA!
I'll
always remember that great OH GOD movie with George Burns and John
Denver. The RPL Chief Recording Engineer,
Mister Howard Solomon, saw it back in 1980, and raved about
it, and then I saw it years later on television. Poor
people cannot afford to go to the freaking movies. Aniwho, the
guy who played the televangelist, and went onto later play the
detective on the 'Law & Order' show
that was shot by that nutcase criminal, began his revival meeting
with that line, “Let's talk about love”.
Well, I have my own line here on my Morianity. It goes, “let's talk
about ENDLESSNESS”!
Why does this dream-travel-club, or society, or “WHATEVER”, kind
Congressman R.A. Sir; do all of this? The answer is so simple that it
will come right out of the darkness and take a dump in your bed. They
are bored to tears in the ENDLESSNESS
of the PURGATORY. They do all
sorts of things, and have decillions of games going all over the
countless parallel universes, of the infinitely vast fifth
dimensional hyperspace. One game that is really enjoyed, is the
creation of religions for the mortal humans to worship and revere
them, here in their nuclear dreams. I talked about the real truths of
Brigadoon and Cooley Hall, and a few hours
after posting, Trump fired the Attorney
General, which now puts a dude in place who has nothing good
to say about Estelle's cousin, and will do all he can, under orders
of Trump, to stop this investigation into his monstrous criminality.
Still wanna' believe in endless coincidences,
Mister 'endLESSNESS' Spellchecker????????
The
great Sarah Jacobson, and her magical bridge boy kisses.
WOW-THAT, KING FAMILY and a big
lovely WEEEEEEEEEE! My guidance
counselor at the Haddon Township High School in Westmont, New Jersey,
USAESMWG, Mister Jockamini or however
his name is actually spelled; was very influential in my eventual
reassignment to Cooley Hall; but it was not a direct transfer, as
they gave me a tutor by the name of Misses
Davies, first. This all fits powerfully into the great
WATERGATE DEMOCRATIC OFFICE BUILDING BREAK IN,
on the 17th
day of June, in the year of 1972. Telling the entire story
will take virtually forever, but I'll keep on trucking, and make a
best effort attempt to get a readable version eventually all blogged
out and fully explained. Anyone with the power to come to you in
DREAMS, is a GOD/GODDESS. That
much, I'll promise any one of you out there. I would tell Mister 'J'
all about many various things. Many powerful symbolism's seem to
revolve around both my kid as well as many of her 21st
century friends. But the largest topic was that on
June 17, and to quote the great “L&O” television show,
“some big-ass thing is going to happen”.
I did not use that language back then in 1967
and 1968. That would have landed me in the Detention Class,
and I would miss out on watching my favorite television show as a
result, the great world famous “Dark
Shadows”. This was before the Video-Cassette-Recorders
(VCR) were invented, but the powerful truth is that I know with
absolute certainty, that I had a large part in these machines getting
invented shortly after my days at HTHS. For those who wonder why
there appears to be two schools, I went only to
the 7th
and the 8th
grades at the HTHS. Then I had a tutor for a few months, and
then in early February of 1969, I began
going to the mysterious and awesome Cooley
Hall High Hell. But I would
discuss that magical date with Mister 'J' a lot in
1967 and 1968, June 17. I talked
about plumbers, I talked about flooding,
and I talked about a water gate. But it
was not until almost before the actual break in that was ordered by
President Richard Milhouse Nixon, that magical Sarah Jacobson told me
why I said what I had said, and went onto actually tell me what was
around the corner in the future. She also came to me in a powerful
dream in the spring time of 1971, and told
me that she does not kiss boys. A year later, on the
bridge that had been recently rebuilt after a flood,
just down the street, Hopkins Lane, from the Cooley Hall; she was
standing there with Steve, a boy from her New Jersey Rehab-Class. I
was walking back from the local Haddonfield 7-11 Store, with a candy
bar and a soda; and she looked directly at me, and then said loudly
to Steve, “I don't kiss boys”. Steve
was a big strong sixteen year old boy. He said back to her, “What,
do you kiss girls”? She then socked him in the eye, and Steve went
flying down to the ground, and he was screaming in pain. Sarah would
go around bragging in 1972, that she wasn't the strongest
girl in the school, but the strongest
person in the school. There is power in the word person, since
Mister 'J' and I would discuss other matters, and I would only refer
to the person in question as “the person”.
There is so much to tell, and things have not even begun to get
spoken about yet; my kind Blogaudians! This is a very complex deal,
and it involves stuff that connects all the way to the very top power
structures of the world, and even back then, those
very same powers and HALLS FAWCES were totally involved. They
created the entire Watergate mess, and much, much, much, much, more!
A lot of people thought that the sixties, and the hippies, and the
whole 324 inches connected with all of it; was totally
about angry kids wanting to get high, and protest against the Vietnam
War. Unless you were there, you can read all of the books,
and go online, and learn stuff in school, and on and on and on; but
you won't get anywhere near to the truth, because those
same exact HALLS FAWCES were just as alive and well back
then, as they are right now. When I'm all through telling the entire
ugly mess, right down to why I was assaulted not once but several
times in numerous ways in Atlantic City, and then years later all
over again, when I tried to look up Sarah, and was in my Saturn car
with my mom that day on August 2, 1996; and if I can get a larger
following of open minded folks who'll read the entire story open
mindedly, giving me a damn fair shake for a change, well; the entire
Planet Earth will then turn another famous
Mister Pat Robertson 'cornerstone',
and THAT is a total
guarantee folks. I have only opened up this hellish nightmare. Even
in the early first week of August of 1998 at the Hilton Beach, after
my encounter with tall Sharon, and her big buxom blond girlfriend;
someone made a cellphone call to a waiting automobile, as they came
out of nowhere while I was trying to legally cross a street on a
green light as a pedestrian, and this monster scum bag literally
tried to run me over and murder me.
Don't
get me started with Phase four entities (P-4-E) and how this connects
into the comic book characters and the world of Estelle Mueller and
Chester Perkowski. The foreign spies of Sheje Croupa in the parallel
world of the Trinidad Hotel owners, and the bicycle verbal assault
that I took in July of 1970 on the boardwalk every time I rode by the
Central Pier, and the horrible gang called the Quoddy Mockers, and my
cousin Sandra Mason, and her connections to Paula King through her
mom, my Aunt Geraldine Snow Mason, and the fantastic plan through her
pal the Shah of Iran; and this list just goes on and on, forever and
ever. Why did this family get to play such a
major role in the Bible, and the Gods and on and on? Why do I
have to be in this family lineage, and for that matter, carry out the
Huntington Curse, that seems to strike one male member of the family,
until the return of Jesus Christ? Only the Gods
and the Goddesses can know the ridiculous parts to their demented
games. BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT,
all great Fort Pierce Library Hacks of 2010; I know that ENDLESSNESS
is the reason. There is no way out. Simply
put, there is no escape from ENDLESSNESS!!!!!!! It has been
the greatest super sleuth operation for all eternity, how can we
escape the Purgatory? We exist in Purgatory, we are the Purgatites,
and that is that. The only way to stop existing is to trade places
with a NON-EXISTOR or a (Purgatite). How can an existor (Purgatite)
communicate with one of them, to make such an offer to them?
Non-existence is a form of something that our mortal brains are not
powerful enough to even conceive of. If we could contact one, and
offer a trade, with the grass is greener on the
other side syndrome; they would probably jump at the chance to
become an existor, and trading with us,
BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, all great 2010
Fort Pierce, Florida Library Hacks; we have no way of
making contact. We cannot move into their territory, and only an
even trade is possible, or at least theoretically, or so I've been
told on the Astral-Plane, or the
'Purgatory'.
There is a finite area that contains literally an infinite number or
amount of these NON-EXISTORS. This is literally
a concept to drive even the greatest human and awake gamers into
absolute insanity. OH WELL Ann King, and Burger King; have
a damn burger!!!!!!!!!!!
Being
nasty, and saying lots of spiteful angry mean hating words, just
places me on 'their level'. I am not
going to use this horrible rotten language. Jane
Fonda attacks with those lovely
wonderful ONES, as well as months of death siege
persecution since the summer time; is my never
failing absolute cue that things won't be going my way; and I
already knew THAT, before the lovely elections took place; so there's
no shock value to me there, none whatsoever! I
am sorry you are not in a better mood tonight, Mizz Diana Ross,
but hey, what can any of us ever do. As for
me, and Florida life, that is my own fault for coming to a
mostly RED STATE
for many many years, and it was this way long before I arrived down
here, and for that matter, long before sweet adorable wonderful
Mister Trump ever took office on
Pennsylvania Avenue, so again, no tears over spilled milk, just lots
of very bad decisions. Hey Jay Jay Evans; really dude, what can I
say, YO?
Only
I can know just how real, how powerful, and yes folks, just how darn
devastating, the misuse of PARALELL-EVENT
truly and really is. I have fallen its incredible victim
now for roughly thirty-two and a quarter years. That should be more
than enough to qualify me as quite the darn expert! Yes sir/mahm, the
death siege on me since the summer time of this year, 2018, is beyond
describable, other than to say that it's right
back on par with the late eighties and the early nineties,
when all of this began; oh great powerful Resorts
Hotel Casino of Atlantic City, and Dark
Shadows' Sabrina Collins! Oh yes, my air conditioning unit was
replaced today, but two sweltering months without air, has more than
done its damage to me, and gave the cheated satanic Republicans and
their Wall Street robotized slaves, their victory, and this has been
ongoing now for a lot longer than any of you, or even I, have
realized. Not only did they take away my AC, but AGAIN, they caused
my apartment to be flooded again. Someone must have snuck in here a
while back, and loosened the piping underneath my darn sink, and the
leak started slowly, but grew to where my entire kitchen was
flooding. Fortunately, as was the case also in late October of 2016,
when my entire area just beyond my kitchen had been flooded out by
some fire sprinkler system that came out of nowhere; the maintenance
people were able to correct the problem, and yes, DRY ME OUT. No
Spellchecker, it is indeed OUTlandish, but we won't use that word
right now, if that's okay with you. And I was just blogging, what,
“HOW DRY I AM, NOBODY KNOWS”, yeah, you go Patty Hollister. Now
here was a lady who could fish it down, along with all of the great
cousins in that marvelous family of KINGS and QUEENS, oh mighty
United States 1983 SAGA © copyrights! Gee Wiligars, BRO!
It
is eighteen minutes past two in the morning, on a 7
November, 2018. I live
and learn, kind peeps. I truly would have placed a large wager on
this year being a bit better for me, and definitely not WORSE, since
it contains the exact same four digits of the apartment number back
in 1980 where I moved into on the first day in May, at the Robin
Hill, #1802. Back in
1980, we may indeed have had powerful goddesses telling us how love
is for carpenters, but there were no hash-tags yet, just pound or
number symbols. Oh I'm “SO SAHWEE”;
Mister 1941 Japanese Ambassador! All throughout the Holy Words of
the Christian bible, symbolically connected items are all tied
together, with the grand theme of it all being The
Almighty plans to come into her creation and be
born as one of us. Personally, I do not care one iota who
believes a darn thing that I say and tell on these thirteen years of
blog texts. You all just go and believe whatever helps you get
through the long and lonely rotten nights, YO. WEEEEEEEEEE!
I
will turn age sixty-six in another twenty-five months, in the first
week of December of 2021. At this time, my Social Security Disability
benefits (bennies) as the term and slang word have come to be in the
American culture; will become regular Social Security bennies. This
means that my new goal in this hellish nightmare life of unfathomable
misery, persecution, and torment; is to somehow survive another
25-MONTHS. At this time, I can leave this wonderful lovely marvelous
place called AMERICA. I plan to. Don't clap too loudly. You're all
pathetically clueless to what this will mean to all of you, that my
message failed to get across. You're all awaiting something.
Christians are waiting for the return of the Messiah. Investors are
waiting for the Dow Jones to hit 100,000 points, and it will, just
grab your calculator and follow my method of telling you all
approximately when. Still others are waiting to find that perfect
better half to themselves. The laundry list goes on and on. And
again, you're all as clueless as two year olds alone on top of Mount
Everest in dirty diapers! I truly feel darn sorry for all of you.
I'll finish out my nightmarish existence somewhere far away from
here, and away from King Trump and his nutcase following of soon to
takeover the country rednecks. 99 percent of you do not know a thing
about the Democratic Office Building in
Washington, DC, and the plot of June 17, 1972. Even the mighty
reporters, those who still live and breathe, I'll tell you right now
that you're clueless if you cannot see what is happening. This is a
plan that has been going on for almost the same time that the Second
World War terminated. One party-rule, and a royal family to take
control. It has happened in every single part of this globe since
time immemorial, and it will happen again in
early 2025, when he calls his generals to come over and begin the
coup, outside of 1600 P. You will see, but THAN, it will be
too late, just as it was when Mister H murdered millions of innocent
people. No one saw that monster coming either. This has been well
planned, and even Mueller knows that most
likely, he and his investigative forces won't be able to stop this
inevitable horrendous hellish plot straight from hell. He has
the religious butt wipes believing in him, and a party that won't let
him down, just as long as they continue getting their tidbits of
power and glory. To me, the BIBLE is
screaming and shouting so loudly, I literally have to put
ear plugs in my ears to avoid going outright deaf! The buttwipe
televangelists have magically and totally forgotten bible prophecy of
the antichrist, yet those nutcase Crouch's have movie after movie on
their Christian Television Network system about this very thing. It
is beyond unfathomable to me. There honestly is nothing more to say
or add here.
Hey,
I know that no one person has a snowballs
chance in Dogtown, to fight this powerful HALLS-FAWCE,
and AKA the Republiwall Street Thugs Society
(RSTS) as Morianity will label it, beginning on this failed
for the democrats Midterm Elections Day of 2018. Don't cry too loudly
lovely Diana; your son in law will find another way to fight this
evil nightmare RSTS! There are two
polarized forces in the nuclear universe that we all live inside of.
The very intelligent Chinese population named this reality long
before America was a shadow in the birth records, and we all know I'm
speaking of the terms, YIN and YANG. When humans become part of the
equation after the nuclear life (stars) spit out that precious
element called CARBON, these positive and negative polarities become
righteousness and evil. Taking this further into present day American
politics, this can even further translate into Democrats and
Republicans. If you strip off all of the fat and compress and abridge
all of politics, everyone knows whether they choose to admit it or
not, that Democrats care about the small and the frail and the
helpless amongst us. The Republicans on the other hand wish to bless
only the wealthy, and crush the rest of us miserable puny paupers
into oppression, poverty, and eventual doomed slavery, right back to
the cotton-field plantations, only color won't be the issue any
longer! Actually, I don't believe that it really ever was. This
entire black and white thing is just an experiment. As I said, you're
all totally clueless blind bats flying into a giant fiery pit of pure
unadulterated hell. You can tell McKinnon's Hollywood double on the
L&O TV show, I know this to be a fact, just as I knew a whole
hell of a lot more than I should have about the sixties movement, a
long time back in the days of Mister Mackey and Mister Ciprionni. No
people; I plan to run fast and far, and
they'll have to kill me to stop me. There is no fighting
this doomed empire called the USA. This time, Senator Thompson and
all of you others from those “points in time”, they made sure
that all of the darn key critical points all align up against the
system eventually working, and stopping and thwarting this evil
monstrous plan of theirs. Just as their horrible Fonda attacks are
non-ending, and beyond totally relentless. I was just struck AGAIN,
and must compensate with my darn FIVES.
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This
should clear me of page eleven and all of her nasty rotten assaults
on me via parallel event symbology.
Oh
no, an army as big and powerful as this one, CANNOT BE STOPPED.
The Democrats didn't even really try;
and nothing will be one bit different when that monster is reelected
again in 2020. And they'll have me AGAIN, to
keep hurting and tormenting through endless undetectable
parallel event technologies, that are applied mercilessly, and
monstrously! The old expression that we've all heard since childhood,
“fight or flight”, you know it. So I know that fighting them is
totally impossible, so I will run fast and far,
just as soon as my SS bennies allow!
WEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Any other mental reasoning would prove
beyond any measure, total and complete
insanity!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Florida
has been a red state for a longer time by far, than my residency
here. As my old record promoter would say it so beyond perfectly and
eloquently, along with his CB-RADIO pal, Miss Chillie, “Ain't no
doubt about it”! Well then, why did I come down here when I hate
heat, on top of that? Simple. I ran away from my daughter's distant
cousins, the KINGS and the QUEENS, and even the symbols; as her
wonderful fans know precisely what's getting said there,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All of reality is
symbolically tied together. The human authors of the BIBLE know it,
and so do all really intelligent human beings. When I ran away, I had
only a few bags and only a few clothes, as space in my vehicle was
limited, and I had to make my escape while Dawn King was very drunk
one night, imagine that, all French grapes of wrath!!!!!!! At this
time, the entire country was in a deep freeze, that is all except for
Florida, as they were experiencing an early December heatwave, sunny
and 90, back on that early second week in December of 2009. I had no
coat, just some jerseys, some underwear, and some pants, a few pairs
of socks, and the shoes on my feet. Anything
more placed into my car may have just aroused too much suspicion from
KING DAWN, and QUEEN PAULA. So Florida was my only logical
destination, unless my plan was to run away and effen freeze to
death. The rest as they say, is history!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let
me move on and tell you all a little story about a fellow student
back at the Cooley Hall in Haddonfield, New Jersey, back in the
autumn of 1969, or possibly the early weeks of January of 1970. His
name was Mike Murray. I know I probably have mentioned how he came a
half inch away from taking out one of my eyes, while I was sitting
alone one day in Misses Marola's class, with that trustworthy kids
best weapon, a long opened up large paper clip and a powerful good
sized rubber band. I also know that I told how one Saturday, I rode
my bike over to the school from my apartment in Oaklyn, New Jersey,
and we got talking, and he told me a detailed description of a movie
that he had just seen on television, called Brigadoon. Not Trump's
Base, not the Briggbase, but the famous movie about the magical Irish
town. Here is what the mighty Fascitar revealed to me back in the end
of the last century while I was in an extremely deep Edgar Cayce type
of tranced out mental state. On the Astral Plane, and in the Capitol
Province of it, called Olympia; there is a method of translating many
of the words used, into the Earth waking world English language, that
I refuse to get into for now. I know that I have made a big deal
about the Cooley Hall, and adding names to it such as HIGH HELL. I do
all things for reasons, and they need not be explored in full detail
at any one given time. It is not that this author is attempting t o
hide anything or be at all evasive or cunning about one solitary
thing. It simply is that time just does not permit me to get fully
into all of the details of elucidation on all of these multiplex
topics that these blogs have discussed for nearly thirteen years now.
I literally could take a century trying to tell it all! But after
this large defeat in the elections, for the good, and the
defenseless, and the downtrodden, you know; the small poverty
stricken kept down and under class; I've now decided to tell
something, and in fact, I am going to tell a couple of things. But
let me begin with why Mike Murray told me about this movie, and how
this place called Brigadoon connects to the Cooley Hall, on and from
an ASTRAL PLANE point of view, remembering that this is
where the GODS come from! Province
Olympia is a powerful and awesome 'place'. There are no real places,
astrally, of course, as they exist because a lot of Purgatites all
agree that they do in particular interactions. In this powerful
'place', I exist as Ricktafarius at the Ricktown Manor, and with me
is the Goddess Diana Arteemis. I also am Zeranniss
Arthur Yancy Jones, and my city name of YANCY
is in the CAPITOL CITY registry,
at what people on the Earth Planet might think of, as some type of a
large City Hall. To have a city-pass,
you need to have a city-name; and this
name is registered. When the round-ups occur, your identity is then
verifiable, and you are not deported out of the great capitol city of
SAHASRA DAL KANWAL. If a
deportation is strike-4, you are transported by the Callio-Squad to
DOGTOWN, to serve a trespass sentence. My point to all of this folks,
is this. We are so large in our true beingness, that we can
experience a multiplex of lives and do it totally simultaneously.
When we dream out into the nuclear universe as carbon clay beings, we
also have many lives and existences throughout unimaginable amounts
of time and hyperspace or parallel universes where alternate selves
of us are living, but totally unaware of these truths, unless inside
of deep dreaming states, where we advance beyond the state of what
Morianity labels as TYPE-1-EXPLORATRONS. Making an ultra long story
as short as is humanly possible, there is a word in the Province
Olympia, and I'll spell it out for all of my Blogaudians.
OKSNUSHELARZIUM. If spoken anywhere in
Province Olympia, this word suddenly develops two English Language
Earth waking-world equivalents, and I'll spell these words out now as
well. ZYALEROON and BIDARENEMPTEALL.
With almost 100% accurately translated meaning to Earth-English,
those two words above are BRIGADOON and
COOLEY HALL. The difference would be
less than the accent that perhaps a Frenchman or a Latin woman would
speak when perfectly saying to an American or an Englishman, the word
September or some similar type of word. Now this was decades before
my mother ever told me anything about my Great Aunt from Chicago,
Illinois, Mizz Alice Gallagher. There are roots from the Gallagher
family to Donald Trump's maternal side, and is why I call him
'distant-cuzz'. There also are family connections to the people
responsible for making this fantastic movie. There is of course a
whole lot more to all of this, but allow me to just whet your
appetites a tid little wee bit for right now, me peeps! The story
that moves much closer in, to all of the nightmare parts to
Morianity, and Mountainpen's suffering's, is connected in many other
ways; only beginning with the Gallagher line of my mom's Huntington
family, and ending up all the way to the mighty Robert McGuire of
Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG. I believe that when a Masonic member made
me aware about powerful secrets kept by this great brotherhood lodge
system, pertaining to the HUNTINGTON FAMILY, and its roots before
that name as the Stuart's, and even going back before the crusades to
the very half brothers and half sisters of the Lord Jesus Christ
Himself; this led to the covert plot to murder the man who told me
and revealed to me a great family lineage chart. I speak of the
murder by way of slow poisoning, of a Mister David Charles Roth, by a
fellow Masonic Brother, Mister Jonathan Schau.
When
I told the record promoter, Lenny McKinnon, that I could produce the
Beatles for him if that would get him off my back, things began to
get, to quote that great old fifties Superman television show about
the racehorse, “dangerous around here”, for me. If you know
anything about the sixties and the political system of that day, you
would just maybe see, in light of all of my Morianity; just how
incredible this plot is, and how stuff totally all ties together, in
ways so outlandish and unfathomable, that no words could ever hope to
give any of this one bit of true justice!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I
will delve into it as November progresses along, as this is very
effen necessary!!!!!!!! The odds of McDowell becoming a top man in
the government, after Daniel Mackey told him that someday he would
grow up and be a man, and he did, but the odds of all of these people
from COOLEY HALL, all becoming big shots with a dark hidden past, are
somewhere, and get this, around 372 quatorodecillion to one against
it being possible. Want to see that number? Fine.
372,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000.
Doubt me? Go to any mathematical department at any good university,
and see if I am lying here, peeps!
Can
COOLEY HALL just come to be and then vanish into the moonlight, like
freaking Brigadoon did? Well, you investigate the things like
Haddonwood, and this place, and all of the rest of my MORIANITY
STORY. You just go right ahead and try to prove me wrong, kind
folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, when 2025
comes in and all non-millionaires are the total slaves of the Royal
Family at Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington; don't you dare look me
up and try telling me a thing. I did all I could to warn all of you
that this WILL HAPPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
I managed to survive Mister
Hubcap Smasher's 38th birthday yesterday, without too much
hell and hassle. Oh yes, there was some as you all well know, YO,
WHAAAAHA!
I've
survived two road-trips with this ESS-JOKER, a broken hubcap on my
Saturn car back in 1996, and a few other unmentionable items. But
here I am, still alive and kicking, even after
two trips through time, one hyperspace
trip to a mall where he worked as a security guard, and was
telling a coworker pal of his, that my tape
recorder, and I'll quote him, “makes
monster-ass recordings”. Actually,
there is nothing magical about any of my tape recorders, not
here, nor in any other parallel realities of the great 5th
dimensional hyperspace either. I'm truly sorry to disappoint you! It
isn't the machine. It is the entity that is running the entire show,
the Great I AM's 'Holy Spirit', to use human cave day words and
expressions. Religions insist on the Holy Trinity being worded as
Father-Son-Holy Spirit. Morianity merely understands that males do
not procreate. No real woman has ever had a
baby. I say, Mother-Daughter-Electron.
By
now, a few of the smarter folks that comprise what Morianity's
creator labels his Blogaudians, have figured out; just
why my music, or a lot of it, seems to really frighten people,
especially people with great power and authority over the mass
populations of this Earth-planet. Yes, if you hear a song in a
'dream', and you wake up and record that song here in
this parallel world to where you heard it while 'dreaming', on
an electronic device,
you have participated in an event that Morianity labels, a
hyperspace-equation event. There is no rule or absolute when doing
these type of things, other than it WILL
DEFINITELY CAUSE some reaction. Many times the majority of
caused-effects of this, is tornadoes. I know it and those in
authority know it. While on one hand they hate to believe it, they
turn around with their other hand and do every possible thing to
thwart me ever becoming a recognized song writer. You can scoff and
say this is absurd. I do not care, because I totally know that this
entire thing is true!
Could
I have told all of these recent things back before my blogs were
halted for about two and a half years; some are wondering? The answer
is that I fully knew all of these truths not only then, but as far
back as the beginning of this century. Before that, I only suspected
it, but I did indeed wonder, because things that happened were beyond
any other more seemingly sane and rational explanations. I am telling
these things because as I am approaching the age of sixty-four years
in this lifetime as Mark Wayne Mountainpen
Huntington Mohr, I am growing beyond tired of the bull****
that these HALLS-FAWCES have been
putting me through ever since I walked freaking out of Cooley Hall
High Hell, at the end of January of the year 1973, with a regular
High School diploma. What I cannot figure out
is what happened to a man who made this special deal with my mother
and myself, a Mister Thompson, of the Camden County, New Jersey Board
of Education! My diploma has the name of several people,
including the Principal of the West Collingswood High School.
BUTTTTTTTT, the name 'Thompson'
has been incredibly erased out of the HARRINGTON 'ED
& I' TWILIGHT ZONE certificate,
that I have here in my personal documents hard-world file, that I
keep well hidden in the back of a hallway closet, next to my
****house. This is beyond freaking outlandish and bizarre, folks!
Just as Paula King and her sidekick Robert
McGuire, can seemingly screw with time and memory on some 5th
dimensional hyperspace scale, in real time; as they have both
done to me on a minimum of two separate occasions now, since the
middle nineteen-nineties; they have seemingly chalked up another 5th
dimensional hyperspace miracle to their bag of mortal world parlor
tricks, with my damn diploma. I know what I know and remember, and I
know that this deal was made with mom and myself, and by a Mister
Thompson of the BOE of my county. My situation
with all of these monster-ESS people or said more truthfully
the (travelers), is that just as with the group
of UFO-believers with all of their so-called real-world-evidence
collected now, THEY WILL NEVER GET
ANYWHERE, just as Morianity cannot
either. The reason is that 'THEY' don't allow it, and THEY have
powers over all of these things, that none of you out here
could understand; not in your mother ******* wildest goddamn
fantasies! If all of your damn UFO-alien stuff
was true, it would pale next to this EXPLORATRON
SUPERMIND
SOCIETY,
and the truths all hidden inside of MORIANITY, regarding these
nightmare horrendous travelers, and their organized group, or
society, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'll
take all of you even one step further, and only the damn powerful
Russian government oligarchs know these truths, and that my Morianity
is for real, and is of course, why they follow me and these blogs of
a dozen years now. The entire UFO-ALIEN crap,
is a gigantic huge to the ninetieth power coverup that
world societies who don't want the masses TO EVER KNOW ABOUT THE ESS,
have created, and are using on the entire world population. They will
create this entire silly thing, that is when it isn't mother-nature
having fun with them, or their half awake hypno-brain delusions, and
then pretend this is some real thing that THEY are covering up.
This keeps all of you scrambling around like decapitated freaking
chickens, never ever anything other than totally 100% clueless to the
real truths of MORIANITY'S EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY. I do not claim this name given to them
by me, Mountainpen, is what they call themselves. I merely have to
use it as my point and frame of reference, in my story and blogging,
to all of this damn hellish crap. Also, if they
did not wipe out my life, then I wouldn't care who they are, or what
they were all doing. I only took it personally after they
totally mince-meated my entire life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let
me now say a couple of lines on the Educational-Faction of the great
ESS. I had more than one person at Cooley Hall,
who was definitely NOT one of us more normal people. You all
know a little bit about the previous teacher that was there just to
get this all warmed up a bit, so to speak, the wonderful Misses
Marola. We do not need to even begin going further into
this for right now on this blog. We have a lot of future blog texts
to demonstrate a major pattern of how the ESS literally created the
COOLEY-HALL school for exceptional children, in Haddonfield, New
Jersey, USAESMWG! The only item that I'll
remind my BLOGAUDIANS of right now, is how she, and this was three
months before the great movie came out, called, “2001, A Space
Odyssey”, would refer to the post two thousand years of the future
that was 31 years away at that time, as for example, two thousand
five or two thousand one. This indeed was how we all came to
say these years, at least for the first decade of this century, and
up north where I hailed from. As many older folks out here know only
too well, all the syfy shows were pronouncing
these future century years as twenty oh five or twenty oh one.
But not the great and powerful Misses Marola of the ESS!
ENDLESSNESS
AND END TRANSMISSION.
JANUARY
10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL HELL
BROKE!JANUARY 10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL
HELL BROKE!JANUARY 10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL
HELL BROKE!JANUARY 10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL
HELL BROKE!JANUARY 10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL
HELL BROKE!JANUARY 10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL
HELL BROKE!JANUARY 10, 2015, 3:30 P., BEFORE ALL
HELL BROKE!
END TRANSMISSION.
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