The things we’re not told about, in everyday life, could fill an encyclopedia and probably should although the obvious ones dangle before us like camouflaged dirigibles in a clouded sky. They are there to be seen by the ones who’ve had them pointed out, but to all others totally invisible. Take for instance surveillance cameras; if you happen to be one of the privileged few who know of the location of the said item, then there is no way you would do anything wrong in front of it no mater what your personal habits were, but if you have never had it pointed out then you could become the one caught picking your nose in front of it.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for catching bad guys and putting them out of the way for rehabilitation but don’t you think we have gone totally overboard when it comes to targeting the ones who aren’t in on the secret, and have forgotten about the fact that seasoned criminals would have intimate knowledge of where the cameras were or at least aware of the possibility of their presence. This can lead to the unacceptable situation of unsavoury types masquerading as good guys and end up being in charge of the very cameras surveilling you!

In the interest of common sense and crime prevention, it is my opinion, adequately notifying people about the existence of methods in place to monitor their behaviour is infinitely better than the sneaky approach. If you are concerned about crime in your area, then it is my experience an open approach is the way to go and never trust an organization who wants to protect you via the use of a secret society; not even if they say they are going to keep you informed, because the chances are they will not.

Even though current trends have been towards the largest build up of unscrupulous methods for Law enforcement the world has ever known, there are still those advocating more of the same and until good people, everywhere or anywhere, voice an alternative view on the subject then I am afraid all we will ever get is a polarized society; as was in Europe in the 30’s & 40’s. It is not impossible that you could live to regret over empowering the secret service system, even if you are the best behaved of citizens.

On a lighter note; don’t you just love those Men In Black types driving around in their big, black Hummers with the tinted windows; don’t they make you feel sooo secure? If I had of presented myself on any Australian street, looking like that when I was a budding young Rev Head, they would have locked me up and thrown away the key. Now, for some reason, we equate them with the responsible ones who lock people up and throw away the key. Life’s funny isn’t it?

Behind the Exclusive Brethren - Late Night Live - 23 September 2008

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23 September 2008

Behind the Exclusive Brethren

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The Religion Report - 3September2008 - Elite Fundamentism - The Fellowship's gospel of Capitalist Power

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Elite Fundamentism - The Fellowship's gospel of Capitalist Power

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Hindsight - 7 September 2008 - Accomplices in Atrocity. The Indonesian killings of 1965

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7 September 2008

Accomplices in Atrocity. The Indonesian killings of 1965

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CHAPTER THREE

A few hours later they were cruising down a narrow country road and had finished discussing the evening’s events. Natalie had convinced Gabriel that she knew of the perfect place that they could head for and how an old friend of her fathers had a discrete estate hidden in the eastern slopes of the hinterland north of Coffs Harbor. If they drove all through the night, a hearty breakfast and a warm welcome would await them; Buzz had agreed and after a few stops to pick up things that they might need for a brief stay in the country, they were more than half the way there. With the calming effect of the night drive, the conversation had once again turned to focusing on the ancient past and the plight of the people of the ark.

Gabriel allowed himself to fall into a deep trance like state, as he was the passenger, began describing to the driving Natalie, his vision of being a falcon flying high over a new Egypt.

“The Nile delta region is brimming with life, agriculture dominates wherever the eye turns; fishing boats stud the waterways and people mill around the docks and granaries. Ox carts and four wheeled chariots traverse the well defined roadways, following the general direction of the traffic I am moving over the outskirts of a large city on the western side of the Nile. In the center of the suburban sprawl of well built two story town houses is a large people’s area with market places, temples and statues. There is one building taller than the rest; I am flying directly towards it and on a balcony near the roof top area stands a well ornamented man with an outstretched hand, I land on it and he utters one very clear and understandable word, Horus!

I turn to face east, the direction from where I have flown from, as the sun goes down behind me, I see the day’s regular activities slowing down. The nights people are making their way into the temple complex forecourt with lanterns lit and begin firing up the alters, this must be a special evening some kind of celebration. A woman dressed as an Isis Goddess joins us on the balcony with her entourage of priests, priestesses and servants hovering behind. The people below notice us and a great roar goes up along with a hoard of doves, I have an immediate urge to fly but I am tethered now to a golden perch. I am still by the side of the man whom I gather is my master and consort to the queen; soon the crowd begins to sing, raise there hands and then all bow down. Proclamations are being made by orators down at street level and sacrifices are being burnt on the alters.

As a group all those on the balcony descend a magnificent internal staircase and emerge at the top of the stairs that lead to the street, the people part like a sea revealing a fleet of golden carriages and chariots pulled by exquisitely adorned horses. We descend the remaining stairs and board the transport as the crowd lines the path we are about to travel with lit torches in hand. Majestically we journey to the Nile where a royal barge is ready for what is obviously going to be a journey up the sacred river. The crowds line both sides of the river for as far as the eye can see as we move off and head in the direction of Heliopolis.

The nights cruise was timed perfectly and as the royal barge docked on the eastern side of the Nile the pathway leading up to the temple of the Phoenix is lined by the priests of On, discernible by the five pointed star on their tunics and visible by the golden light of the sun rising out of the primal mound of Heliopolis. Isis and her Horus lead the procession up to where the head priest, who is wearing an ibis headdress, is standing in front of a huge column with a cone on top. This is the most sacred Ben-Ben stone representing the point of ascension, where Horus becomes Osiris, where Isis attests to the weight of the heart before Thoth who is representing the absent Set. This is done while the telling of the story of how Set had killed Osiris and of how Isis had reassembled the dismembered parts of his body and had brought it here to On; she is now presenting his and her son as the resurrection of their king.

The morning ceremonies give way to the rising of Ra to his midday throne high over the Nile, as the Bark of the crossing is readied for the official trip to take the new Osiris to the seat of his power. The crossing goes smoothly and as the royal couple prepare to enter the Sphinx temple situated at the foot of the Sphinx, Horus who has now become Re-Osiris is exulted above all others as the crowd chants ‘Life to thee, O thou who art over darkness! Life to thee in all thy majesty! Life to thee Osiris…Hail to Osiris, Lord of all the living’ and as the sun begins to set and the new day officially begins Osiris dons a ram headed crown and enters the courtyard of the temple chanting ‘I am Re who is in the heavens, I enter the twilight shadows, I open the gate of the sky in the west, Welcome me with your arms. Behold! I know your place in the Duat; I know your names, your caverns, your secrets.’

Standing in the middle of the alabaster temple, in front of the alter, is the old lady wearing her breastplate but it is somehow different, newer with Egyptian hieroglyphs instead of jewels; She speaks the words ‘O bitter in your cavern, terrifying one, the greatest of the Duat, bow down, draw back your arm, behold me, I am entering the land of the west to attend to Osiris, to greet those who are with him.’ And with that she takes off the fake breastplate and places it on the fake Isis who is standing beside her Horus and they turn and face the priests of the Sphinx, then Horus bellowed the words ‘It is done’!”

“Well here we are” said Nat breaking the silence that had allowed them to finish their journey and ponder the amazing scenes that Buzz had described.

“Where are we exactly?” asked Gabe, still waking

“We are at the gatekeepers house of the estate of Sir Hamish Grant, Wing Commander R.A.F. retired. He is my godfather and a long time best friend of my father, who lives a very private life here miles from nowhere. He’s a bit of a recluse since the death of his wife but I’m sure we will be safe here; he will be keen to hear of our investigations. I told him about the disappearance of daddy, he made me promise to keep him updated and said he would help in any way he could.”

Just then a spotlight came on and a loud voice came over the intercom next to the car,

“State your business”

Natalie explained who they were and immediately the large security gates opened. They proceeded along the long, wide, flat tree lined driveway up to a colonial style house that seemed to be built into the side of a small mountain.

“Very impressive” stated Buzz as they pulled into an undercover car park.

A large moustached man came bounding down the wooden staircase, hauled Nat out of the car and began dancing some kind of jig with her feet dangling way off the ground,

The journey continues.

Natalie moved away from the table with all the books and charts that she had been flipping through while Gabriel had been expounding his theory and poured herself a drink from a handsome crystal decanter that sat on the fire place surround.

“Could we go over that again, this time in English, I think I am getting what you are saying but pretend I know nothing about Egyptology and lay it out for me in simplistic terms.”

Buzz took a deep breath, pulled his reading glasses out of his top pocket and while putting them on he moved over to the table. He shuffled pages of the exposed texts, selected maps and diagrams and slowly began to re-explain his theory while pointing to the appropriate symbolisms.

“Firstly, what we are doing is establishing the existence of an artifact that we will call ‘the Breastplate of Narmer’, that is older than what they have in the museum system at the moment. This we have done by pointing to the hieroglyphic symbols on what we will call ‘Breastplate No.2’ as dating to the First Intermediate period of 2200 B.C.E, citing the main character of a Horus wearing a divided kingdom crown, slaying a man. Now if it was the genuine ‘Breastplate of Narmer’ it would be dated to the First Dynasty period of 3000 B.C.E and the hieroglyphs on it would describe an Osiris wearing a United Kingdom crown and presiding over a peaceful time.

Secondly, if we can establish that this older breastplate is pre-dynastic and empowered the wearer to appoint Pharaohs to up and coming candidates or that any potential world leaders like Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte and even Hitler for that mater was interested in it, then we can begin to narrow down who might be interested enough in it to have kidnapped it and your father.”          

Natalie put down her glass and grabbed him planting a kiss squarely on his blushing cheek, she stood back and proudly announced,

“Well, Dr. Izzard PhD bla- bla- bla you certainly are proving your worth. Where do you suggest we go from here?”

“Let’s draw the curtains, get settled on that lounge over there, begin one more quick guided meditation and see if we can come up with what we need to progress this mystery on to the next phase.”

Before long, Buzz was entranced and describing to Nat that he was once again a falcon flying high over Egypt.

“It was the same period and place as the last vision and people are filing into Giza, mainly from the east. They are bringing their possessions with them from as far as the eye can see, an invading Sumerian civilization ready to make the Nile theirs. Out of the western side of the temple complex I am witnessing a speeding four wheeled chariot, obviously fleeing the city in the shadows of a setting sun. I follow it as it careers along its north western path keeping the Nile and its people far to its right hand side. Staying with the journeyers all night, we arrive at a large ship moored in the Mediterranean and when the sails billowed with the stiffening morning easterly wind, hooded figures rush from the covered chariot to the embarking vessel. Keeping the coast of northern Africa to the port side, we travel for many days in the direction of the Atlas Mountains and the Gates of Hell, which we eventually pass through and into the mountainous seas of the Atlantic Ocean. After what seemed an eternity of bad weather, land to the north is spotted and a prehistoric England becomes our obvious destination. The seas settle and we clean sail for another day or two till we dock at a small stone village, where all the passengers and crew kiss ground and enjoy their first days and nights on land after a long and arduous sea journey.”                                         

  “The local peoples are very friendly and offer a myriad of comforts and luxuries to the weary travelers; eventually after days of pleasantries, the travelers move off again this time in ox driven carts loaded with their possessions hauled from the ship they had traveled there on. After a few more days travel inland they begin to set up a semi-permanent camp and after bathing and donning special white ceremonial robes, they move on out of the camp in a walking procession that goes on all night lit by hand held torches. The destination becomes apparent as the morning sun rises over an amazing scene of a crowd surrounding a ‘wooden’ Stonehenge with an alter in the middle. As one of our companions moves into the center of the event and as all eyes are intently focused on that spot and moment in time, in front of the alter, the hooded white robe is removed to reveal Mereneith and her bejeweled ‘Breastplate of Narmer’ for all to see.”

  Sir Hamish reveals his true colours.

 Fishing for self aggrandizement is not an uncommon pastime; regularly I see people who must have spent at least fifty thousand dollars on there equipment, venture out to sea, catch a hand full of fish at best, then sit back and revel in the glory of what good fishermen they are. Now it's probably none of my business but let's take it apart for a change and realistically analyse the mentality.

Granted some people may have worked so hard in their life they feel justified in spending all that money, time and effort to molest sea creatures so let's leave them alone and focus on the variety who just inherited their wealth or maybe sold the family home in Sydney or Melbourne before high tailing it the Gold Coast. Here they are purchasing a fibreglass run about with an extremely overpowered Two-Stroke motor and they don't give two shits about all the toxic materials that went into the making of their purchase or the fact that if they actually want to use this thing, rather than park it at the back of their recently purchased canal front home, they are going to have to burn a lot of carbon. The oil that goes into the petrol of this planet f---ing machine spews directly into the very waters they have come here to enjoy and floats as a slick onto the sands that they will have to pump for their bait if they wish to be admired as true blue outdoors men. Although they will probably buy their bait from the commercial importers because all the locally available bait died ages ago from over zealous pumper's and the polluting oil from their engines.

After another stop at a retail outlet to buy some more toxic materials in the form of rods and reels, they get to donate stainless steel, lead and nylon to the already well stocked local supply laying at the bottom of our harbour before realizing there's no fish in the immediate vicinity. This however can be overcome with some long range tanks and a state of the art fish finder to get them to the last quarter of the worlds remaining stocks and before long they are landing the elusive creature they have gone to such extremes to haul from it watery home. Never the less they really should kiss it and let it go because if they take it all the way home without freezing it and finally cook and eat it, they will be lucky not to get sick from all the dioxins and mercury it probably contains.

  If they overcome all the obstacles, bear all the expense, ignore all common sense and persist in becoming proficient at what they are doing, inevitably they could end up landing the big one. Sitting at home in their hunters den with the trophy fish mounted on a piece of wood or a framed picture of them holding up the savage beast next to the bigger new boat they had to buy, appropriately named Sally II, it will all seem worth the effort. They will be hooked for life, ready at a moments notice to sell you the line that Sally was the best investment they ever made or they could just do us all a favour and sink her.

  I just don't get it, Nicotine patches to fight Nicotine addiction and  targeting victims of the unscrupulous pushers with a concentrated form of the very drug that binds them to the state endorsed, tax paying, lobbyist empowered, capitalistically embedded merchants of death and disease. This is somewhat akin to asking inmates of Auschwitz to pay for cyanide laced band-aids or gum in the vain hope it will help rid them of the fascist state that imprisoned them in the first place. While I have no doubt some people have have success with the final solution, it occurs to me if you wanted to solve the overall problem you would outlaw the offending substance and those who were unscrupulous enough to participate its sale. As with everything else in this world  of double standards the very same people who are adamant about Cannabis and it's pushers being outlawed and dealt with harshly by the law, don't seem to be similarly concerned when it comes to the Nicotine and Alcohol pushers even though they have been responsible for the biggest genocidal attack on humanity bar none. While we have outlets for the sale and distribution of the drugs that fill our hospitals with the bulk of their patients, openly plying their immoral trade on every street corner in the western world, I for one refuse to take them seriously when it comes to these half baked campaigns for me to spend the remainder of my meager pittance on the deadly chewing gum they say will fix me.

How hard could it be to legislate these corporate giants out of existence? Every time I have spoken about this to a fellow victim, of this insidious plot, I've had a positive response but it seems to me the only one's who argue for the rights of companies to continue their reign of terror are the non-smoking authorities who demand their right to continue to collect taxes; how evil is that? It's not as though the monies they make are clear profit, they have to pass it over to the 'health professionals' who are looking after the ones who were made ill by the initial sale. So in the end it seems to be about the rights of a small group of people who value their incomes over the health of the bulk of the people and they are the ones who are trying to ram poisonous chewing gum down your throat.

When do we get to the point were we insist our well paid public servant behave in a responsible manor and demand they put an end to this insanity once and for all? It would be in every bodies best interests if they just bit the bullet and put the plans on the table for the end to the era of state approved drug pushing; anything else is just inane posturing. Anyhow that's about all I have to say on the subject, I just might just kick back with a drink and a smoke and wait to see how long the joke can continue. 

To the Head Priest,

Oxford branch of the Great Church of Reason.

In regards to your supplications to the Omnipresent God of Luck, Pure Chance.

You say there is no proof of intelligent design and natural selection is the alternative.

Natural Selection is proof of intelligent design because if there is something in the simplest of natures cells that allows it to select one way over another (choice) then that becomes the intelligence behind the design.

When you surmise 'there is no God' you ass-u-me that God is not in the Micro, to small for you to observe. The same basic mistake is made by assuming we big banged into existence out of nothing at some particular point in time.

If you were able to create at at a macro or micro level and observed one of your creatures confidently espousing, with much eloquence, there was no creator; how hard would you laugh?

P.S. If you think ridiculing old religious characters is proof of anything or just good fun, where do you stand on ridiculing old scientific has been's?    

  I'm not sure if the rest of the world is aware of the problems we face here on the east coast of Australia but I can assure you the war on feral pests has been waged here for longer than I care to remember. At least three times a year large groups of people mobilise to wipe out one or the other of the afore mentioned, non-indigenous nasties of dubious place of origin. Armies of club affiliated vigilantes patrol transport routes, parks and public spaces leaving no stone unturned in their quest to seek out the defeat and humiliation of the creatures they despise. Our national media organizations closely monitor the situation and many of their ranks have risen to the prominent positions they hold by participating in the activity themselves. Heads of government would not last long in their chosen careers if they failed to support one or another of the groups and drunken celebrations usually follow the peaks of activity.

  The police forces, paramedics and most other public service organizations tend to turn a blind eye to the violence that quite often erupts right before their eyes, usually leaving it to a group of private citizens to run a makeshift judiciary to preside over the preceding's that frequently take place after some particularly nasty event. More often than not the perpetrators of some of the more serious offences get off with a short suspension from being allowed to participate in planed upcoming events and/or if they are under contract, an amount of their fee withheld. What I have described here is by no means over exaggerated, it goes on year after year as regular as clockwork and shows no sign of changing. You maybe under the misunderstanding that it is just men who participate in this public display of over blown enthusiasm, for what some might call a sport, but hordes of women and children also regularly attend and it is not unheard of for a grandmother to stand at the appropriate moment and hurl abuse at some official that ruled against to the mob.

  Now while I'm not particularly fond of cockroaches or cane toads, I can see both sides of the story and from where I stand the whole thing has got way out of hand. What started as a pleasant past past time has deteriorated into a free for all, where the participation of obsessed adults has overridden any sensible approach to the problem. Surely in this day and age when the world is looking towards us as a model for planetary activities that would set standards in developing countries, we could better use our free time and vast resources to devote ourselves to the more important issues that face us and the rest of humanity.

After a short stop to pick up his lap top and lock up, they were zooming along the city bound freeway happily chatting about the mornings meditations and filling in the appropriate gaps. Natalie's apartment block was in a very trendy inner city precinct, the heartland of yuppy style accommodation, coffee shops, boutiques and swanky wine bars. When they arrived in the area it was swarming with smart cars, motor scoters and smartly dressed people. As she swiped her card to gain access to the underground car park, Buzz commented on the obvious affluence of her lifestyle by muttering under his breath, 'It's very clean, have you tried the veal?'

By the time they were standing in her extremely well equipped kitchen, which looked like something out of an exclusive restaurant, he brought it up again by asking, 'so your a catering service are you?'

'No I told you my interest is in Mycenae and Etruscan vases.'

'Yeah, my interest is in Pyramids but I don't own the Melbourne Cricket Ground just to keep a couple in.'

  'Look it not that bad the first floor is my showroom and the second is my office, I have a small staff and responsibilities to my clients. This meets all of my needs and provides me with a comfortable life with out having to drive all over the place; my father, whom I've employed you to help me find, set this up for me and it has served me very well.'

'O.K, I give up very nice and very sensible.'     ------------------

He seceded to her suggestion and went to peruse her collection and after an indeterminable amount of time, she rejoined him on the mezzanine of the first floor and said, 'beautiful aren't they, are you familiar with the period?'

'I've always considered it the time of the Greek gods, Zeus' offspring, something to do with the city of Troy and maybe the Hittites. It was a cusping period coming between the Taurean age of the bull and the Arian era of the Ram; not Egyptian, not Sumerian, not Phoenician but a mixture of all of them.'

'I never thought of it like that, you must tell me more. I'm all ears,'

'as well as many other wonderful pieces.' He digressed, she blushed 'Before this culture became established on the northern side of the Mediterranean, Egypt flourished on the south. Before the Ramose's period the bull was worshiped by a divided kingdom, the Tuthmosis and Amenophis pharonic lines took turns in ruling until Akhenaton and Nefertiti were expelled for upsetting the priestly establishment by changing the religion towards monotheistic practices. So here's the rub, this was about the time the Hebrews were appearing on the scene in Palestine and the roots of the Ramesses Cult were becoming established, both these were ram worshiping in essence and ushered out the bull worshiping cults, relegating them to the previously uncivilised areas where the Mycenae and Minoan cultures began to flourish hence why they have bulls all over their pottery.'

They made themselves comfortable on a nearby lounge and continued their conversation until they both drifted off again to a distant past and after what seemed like an age in it's self, Natalie returned them to the moment by shaking him and saying 'Wake up! I've got so much to tell you and I can't wait. Let's go up to my roof for dinner and I will fill you in on the most extraordinary tale. I love this thing we do together, if you don't mind me saying so but I'm hooked. I hope you feel the same, I mean it doesn't matter if you don't. What am I saying, of course it does , oh bugger I feel like a stupid girl on her first date. I'm excited, I'm elated, I'm babbling aren't I?'

He agreed, embarrassing her further and creating a moment similar to saying goodnight on your parents front porch. Eventually they broke apart and she lead him towards the friendly lift which politely asked which floor whilst serenading them with some Mozart. Soon they were eating crepe Suzettes and Natalie was talking again. 'We returned to the same place as this mornings adventure in time but it had expanded into a small town with many more people and lots of children.There was roads in and out of town with well made carts pulled by little horses. They were still practicing their Sabbath but in a real temple, with all the golden artifacts. Mrs Noah presided as before in front of a  row of all the originals but the rest of the hall was filled with younger people and their children spilled out on to the forecourt, along with many others. The waters had receded far from the town but the old boat was still in use. They had many domestic and farm animals, the forest had been pared back dramatically and crops of great variety were growing all around.

Early one morning, after the Sabbath, a large group gathered  and began preparing wagons and provisions, enough for a  long journey. Once readied, they headed off with great fanfare, being led by one of the originals. We travelled with them for many weeks, eventually they arrived at the most southerly point possible, stopped by a large body of water and it was there they set up a new camp just like the old one. After some months or so, and I'm not too sure because time was passing so quickly, the elder led a small party back to the original town. The old boat was then packed up with the old crew, including Mrs Noah and her breastplate and they sailed around the coast line until they came to the new town were She began to preside over the Sabbath there.'

'That's an amazingly good account of the events we witnessed,' Buzz interjected 'your the best I've ever worked with, a real natural talent.'

'Why thank you Sir.'

'The original town would of been Nineveh.' He ventured to say

'Yes, I would say so because I'm beginning to under stand their language and I hear them calling it Nin-nar-mah.'

'That's quite a revelation hey, I can see why you were so excited,' he said with admiration 

'That's not what I was excited about, wait till you hear the rest of the story. So sit back down and pour yourself a large brandy, you are going to need it.'