(To be read in David Attenboroughs voice --if you prefer, one of the great Framers of the current age, or the chief of Science teachers, Neil deGrasse Tyson)
Increasingly, the visage of the Great Lie emerges:
Men are subject to visions, many false. Stories told and retold, many false. From Evolution to Progress, to Community, the framers of the stories continue their march, their speeches, endlessly until dawnbreak.
Long gone are talks of Adam and Eve, Giants and the Flood, Punishment and Redemption. Thanks to the Smithsonian, there is no need to talk about artifacts, bones or ancient batteries.
-- All these are replaced by Tik Tok, Netflix Special Series and Livestreamed "Breaking News" reports that reframe, re-write and refashion the presence of signs as old fashioned hooey.
There are no fallen angels (like the one encased in stone discovered just recently in Russia) and there are no anomalies to discuss, says CBS...auron.
It is after all, an Advanced Age we live in... Where Man has reached the Moon, engineered calculating machines that speak and horseless carriages that drive themselves.
Ah, yes, "Man the Enlightened!" the gazing, sleeping, damp crowds chant. "We The Enlightened," the men say, repeating after the subtitles gleaming inside their phone and tv screens, and in their digital inboxes in the office.
The Freemasons and Rothschilds, like the Giants of foretimes, stand over the heaping sleeping masses like mountains, gazing over them with gory eyes, bulging from atrocity and godlessness; "what, with great ease, to devour these and these? Who can stay our hand if we take these and these, from among them? They are altogether mire: we will live forever!"
The speech of the wicked in the night is like the expanding spiderweb, dipped in tinged corrosive oils. It spreads in darkness, and in darkness thrives. The speeches lick the foundations of the ages wherein such were sown. For the masons, like you, are only men. With confidence, they builded the great stones of Tartaria and it was torn down, all torn down.
Do we still hear the cries of the great men of the Gold, Silver and Brass kingdoms? Why, did it build so great and so vast, so glorious, that it covered the whole earth -- when the turn of a page was to be its demise?
-- Aye, except that it be revealed, the pinnacles of what men desire, when hearts wander and minds think themselves again...
Daniel 2, KJV
Two cities! One of Iron never mixing with Clay! You could shout and no one would listen!
I could plainly state it a thousand ways, and the sleeping people would not comprehend it. They would defend the spiderwebs, now gravely aged in their minds and filling their ears like thick clay.
Laughingly, Jerry Seinfeld puts it "incubator babies from the 1900s", filling the streets of once glorious cities... in broad daylight he exposes the naked shame of his peer clansmen. And the sleeping masses do not even turn. Yeah, incubated humans in the 1900s, unflinchingly. The gall!
The gall! But we are here now, and we live here now, for the moment we breath the thick oily air and say the "sir" and "yes sirs". We admire, even, the children's tale told for so long, as a sort of death-bed bed time story told the human race by the fallen spirits. They tell it so well, so well.
Yet the innocence of the sleepers, the Clay people, is not despised whatever. It is the shame and sorrow that really hits you, when you realize so few can wake up from the Great Lie. Don't take my teddy bear away!
In the Matrix movie, the character representing Judas betrays the rebels who had escaped the wicked false world to "see the Truth completely, even if it hurts"...saying "I don't even care if this steak isn't real."
How often, the dreams and visions of space travel, the lustful images of man discovering his dreams of technology and advancement to outer space have tasted so good, men put pen to paper to write tales about such places (libraries are full of such sci fi). Their faith was renewed for things appearing in a murky, oily cobweb-formed pond...his own reflection unfound, he looked in until finally he fell into the giant spiderweb and was dissolved to memory.
Our age, our current state, unobserved by the poor who, dazed, confused, weighed by sin and troubles, looks on at shimmering screens that blink back with an unblinking gaze. The Eye continues orchestrating the Lie in a universal fashion, surrounding the victims as the great Eye of Sauron from all sides, day by day until he falls asleep, well, well at dawnbreak...
So that no steel monolith appearing in Utah can wake him, nor cities appearing in the clouds with archangels trumpetting the arrival of Christ stir him from his sleep. He walks in his mind, in a clay world, as the iron kingdom that has never mixed with his reality, binds and cages him completely.
Man is as a tamed, broken, weakened and fattened creature toward the truth. And he departs quickly.
