KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0332

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0332

WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295

DATFILE: 020512.055.55555555555

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME

BLOG SYBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

“TEE MINUS NINE TRILLION SECONDS, ICABOD CRANE”

COPYRIGHT BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN © 2006-2012

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

One big blond to another big blond, huh Dawn, I'll bet Diana has worked you over a few times, you old drunken bitch fool you. Oh well, lots of things I say that I will get back to, enemies strike hard and prevent me from ever seemingly doing, but let me try and get to a few things now, folks, Whaaaaaaarner BROS.

First, I induced a trance in the mid two ohs a to re-sing a fantastic tune she had originally allowed me to remember, upon coming back to the waking world Earth in the first week of June in the year of 1980, called, “Love is for Carpenters”. Even though I discuss time travel quite a lot on blogs, and the arguments so far for believing in its reality or doubting it as well as stuff that has been done to me in this one life time that pertains to only this explanation or else the greatest parlor trick ever pulled off in the combined world circus system of the entire cosmos; but there is a wild and far-beyond time travel, explanation for the many powerful unexplainable events throughout both my fantastic life and the globally unexplained stuff from Ufology to the entire ranging spectrum of the rest of the esoteric and paranormal parts and pieces of the world of the normally 'hidden', known also as the 'occult'. Those with strong language studies in their college major curriculum know that these two words are really the same thing. What is not anywhere on the internet as of 2009-2012 other than taken from me if it is, or told directly by me, is called by me, EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND or shortened into ES. EVERY MIRACLE FROM THE PYRAMIDS TO THE RAISING OF THE DEAD, FROM THE FLYING OBJECTS TO THE PROPHECIES FULFILLED, and on and on and on I can go here, but for sake of time and shortening this message friends; one thing and only one thing, and this is not TIME TRAVEL, that explains all of it perfectly, is the usage of taking what is in the great dream books of Carlos Castaneda, 'and upping it one full dimension', to quote another great mind of late, Doctor Coral Sagan. In other words, dream groups are fine, but so was practicing medicine without first washing your hands, once. As knowledge grows, we learn stuff. In the case of medicine, we came to understand the micro worlds of germs and viruses and so forth, hence, the washing carefully of hands, the wearing of gloves, etcetera, would logically follow and surely did so. There is no 3 or 4 dimensional world that we dream down off of the Astral plane into, it is a large 5^th dimensional system, one nice word for it can be hyperspace, but peeps misuse the word a lot, so it tends to throw off its real meaning about a larger area that contains all of the parallel universes, not larger in size, but in dimension, see how even still, you are most likely scratching your heard? This is because you are not knowledgeable about this subject, in the same way that most twelve year old's out here could teach me more about the personal computer than I hate even starting to admit to, but reality is reality, and yes big-red-blond Dawn-Marie King, as you would have said once; “It is what it is”. “Denying reality is the quintessential foolishness”, quote MOUNTAINPEN, as of today!!! My long winded point here is quite simple actually folks. You all live three dimensionally, as you should, it is totally normal for you to do this, I mean you have a body and that body has a length and a width and a height, and if I am counting correctly, that makes three. The problem is that I have come to learn as this new millennium burst into being, that I live in two additional ones, I really do, you do not. I do not see dreams as you do, nor do I perceive time as a line or something that interfaces in any way with Astral Plane existence, so this adds two more dimensions to my physical beingness, they may appear invisible, but you had better bet there Mister Ward Cleaver sir, they are anything but freaking invisible. They most definitely surface in my life, every single hour and day, every minute and second, of every year that I muddle through this hell. Again, this goes back to a block on a hypothetical street where ten families live in a development of exactly built homes. Every home in addition, has a hundred million dollars of hidden jewels up in their attics, behind some panels. But only one family makes the discovery in their home, and only one family gets to retire on the French Riviera, and jet around the globe like a bunch of snooty Huntington Bankers. My point is that further posed here, in positive and negative; as in my case, learning about these additional two dimensions seems to be my curse, and instead of the French Riviera and the life that goes with it, I get the distinct privilege of living in a dog house eating cans of pig shit and watching Gecko Lizards hop around on fucking ski lifts next to the 5-8 school, wow and whoopee for me!!!!!!!! Let me add here that coming down to Florida was seemingly the biggest mistake that I ever made. You keep the commercials and now on top of that, you really have these stinking rotten lizards all over the place. Dave Roth used to say it better than I will ever be able to peeps, when I would say to him, “Dave, how do we win”, and he would just solemnly look at me, hesitate a few seconds, and soberly reply with the words, “We won't”. But let us move this along now with other pieces of information.

We can always get back to Exploratrons and controlled sleeping or (varying covert types of somnambulism), but right now, let us look at a several thousand year old famous situation that 99% of us know something about, or dam it we sure should. When the Egyptian Pharaoh had the (TRUE) people in this game of Sarah-Stacey Krassle, (IS REAL), powerful symbolism don't you agree; in bondage and slavery; the story foes that this all Powerful Jehovah (SSJKK) and yes PP, as per our talk on the phone, I know there are many religions, I merely speak of one that is about a billion strong and that fits into my story for tonight; yes this great powerful spirit-force-entity-whatever; did what the story tells was done, and then there was the wandering 40 years in the great wild deserts of the area, before the 'teenagers only' were eventually permitted access to this great promised land of milk and honey, wow, I have not started anything yet. The cymbals are crashing so loud I need to go grab some earplugs or I'll be ding deaf for freaking life. The PCN for MILK AND HONEY is 352. This is powerful, but so is the the '27^th' Psalm as it opens up. Many strange things drew me to watch the sermon by Doctor Charles Stanley last night, and this was all on there. Boo Misses Callisurdo, sorry I wasn't such a 'RGB' that day. Still, since you have all the answers here mam, just exactly what will make the world population remain here in a hundred years? She was over eighteen you know; milk and honey, give me a break GAGANU. Now some 'JOY' and 'FUN' can get a person sent to Rikers Island, but eighteen is a fully grown woman, where as sixteen is not. In any case, I AM not Gawky Gaukauk, I am also not Melvin Fisher or Henry Flagler. I could go on, but there is a lot of more urgent stuff here lads and lassies, with or without Mister 'Terry Jackson' or his sun seasons of 1974. Milk and honey, indeed. I know some old fucks are out here that clearly remember the song lyrics, stop lying; yes, one chance out of eighty one.

The part of the story next worth considering is as old as the pyramids, or in about there somewhere. My exodus down to Florida, after living since the age of nine through fifty-fife years in New Jersey, has placed me now after nearly twenty-six months now, in that awkward position of complaining about the 'giants' as well as going back home to the Pharaoh and Babylon, Jesus Christ, tell me how I am imagining this shit, mister Patterson, oh great mighty writer of fiction, sir?????????????????????????????????? On top of that, I may have looked nineteen then, but do not now, so in any case, I am here complaining about the giants and the hell and the heat, and all the woes and turmoil of my personal tempestuous seas of quagmire, but what is the answer, if we look symbolically at this, am I supposed to stay here and let my offspring do something here, well, there is only one answer to this I guess? I all ready told the world that I have willed my daughter, the sea charts that show where more gold bars and jewels and historical artifacts are than equal the value of all the major recording labels all put together, after-all, the gold when it was around 1975 prices or about 35 dollars an ounce totaled half a billion dollars according to my father who worked with MELVIN FISHER-PCN-352. At nearly 2000 dollars an ounce, that is 60 or 70 times five hundred million. Still, it will take a lot of pull to get the state of Florida to make a deal with you, but who has more pull than my wonderful daughter, so this is why I take all this as some kind of a sign now, along with this biblical scripture. So if you want to do this after I am gone, 'MI, then be my guessing guest', on or off of 10-SC Avenue. The charts show the last position as of about the time of your birth, and any good software computer program can be custom made to adjust for new positions based on tides and storms and all the variables. Then you simply fit out a salvage vessel with all of the best magnetometer equipment, and you are on your way. Why shouldn't you have this MI, after-all these galleons belonged to Portugal a very long time ago, a part of your heritage? In any event, let me take this now to another part of tonight's message peeps.

First, there is no way to ever take all the events that have happened, and make them fit into order or sense, not confined to a world of three-D. It is asking a one year old to fly a mission to Mars. It won't work, and that's that, Esolph. This does not mean that folks will not go on in their conventional ways, attempting to endlessly figure out all the unexplained mysteries surrounding them and their universe. To this I say bravo, and the best of luck, with any poker hand, or great face bluffs. Turn over the tops of twos. Gimme' a break. I had that big beautiful teenager eating out of my hand at the age of six, so how many of you dudes out there can make that claim?

The endless crying scardy cats. How pathetic. Oh the stars will all be burned out and all the fuel will be exhausted, the skies will be dark and cold and we will be no more. Sounds more like a poet who needs to take some cheer medication. Still, the great top think tank science peeps all believe this junk. If I fell for all the illusions that you do, my peeps would have done me in a trillion years ago, just ask Joe and Andy Haddonwood, in any parallel freaking universe. First of all, see the entire thing more along the lines of you are the small edge on one of the periods in a very large thick book in a very big book shelf. Thius is part of a huge library. Someday the library will catch fire and burn up. By your point of view, this is the scientists of today trtying to envision the ending of our cosmos. But towns away from this library, is a digital system that has all of it stored. They rebuild it sometime later and transmit it all back into a huge digital set of super computers. You as the edge of one of those periods won't even know that anything ever happened. Stop trying to think you can put Sarah-Stacey Krassle in a box folks. How many more times are so many folks going to keep allowing themselves to be fooled by nut jobs like Harold of Family Radio? The gods, stop worrying about the end. Worry that there is no fucking end, this is what you all need to realize, and worry about. Endlessness causes the gods to need to play a game called Ultimate Distraction. This game led to all the tears and miseries we all are now experiencing. Fucking god all mighty, worry about who is going to win the fucking Superbowl, or something really important, as if New England is gonna' give New York the slightest fucking chance in holy hell, Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit!!!!!!!

THIS BLOG TERMINATES TRANSMISSION, my brother.