I have been dragging along David Icke’s monumental book: Human Race Get Off Your Knees for the last month. It has been on my lap as I sat; been propped against pillows as I laid down; followed me to bathroom and poolside; and been, in fact, a formidable companion over these past several weeks. It is a massive book, and requires complete attention. Even so, some of it is hard to grasp. I have felt sorely regretful that my science foundation is so…nil. I remember that in high school the broken microscope we inherited from the white high school (they got a science lab) did permit each of us in our large class a single glimpse of, I think it was, an enlarged cell of something. It was pretty amazing,but there it was: my introduction to something David is telling us that is really worlds away from this.*
Earlier I wrote that David Icke reminded me of Malcolm X. I was thinking especially of Malcolm’s fearlessness. A fearlessness that made him seem cold, actually, though we know he wasn’t really. All that love of us that kept driving him to improve our lot; often into quite the wrong direction, but I need not go into that. What I was remembering was how he called our oppressors “blue eyed devils.” Now who could that have been? Well, we see them here in David Icke’s book as the descendants of the reptilian race that landed on our sweet planet the moment they could get a glimpse of it through the mist that used to cover it (before there was a moon). No kidding. Deep breath! Yes, before there was a moon! (Oh, I love the moon; can I keep it? Please?). Anyway, there they came, these space beings (we’re space beings too, of course, not to forget that). But they looked…. different than us. And they were.
They wanted gold and they wanted slaves to mine it for them. Now gosh, who does this remind us of? I only am asking. You do the work. Apparently their own planet needed this metal to continue its, apparently, long life. Credo Mutwa, Zulu shaman – and I am on my knees here in gratitude that he held on long enough to tell us about this – calls them the Chitauri, which has become my favorite word of all time (well, of this time that I’m learning all this): my partner and I go around saying Oh, Chitauri, whenever we get a glimpse of one or two of the Chitauri offspring, aka Illuminati bloodline families and their puppets, on the telly. It’s quite the stress reliever, just knowing what we’re looking at. And I like saying “telly” too, because it sounds so English and David Icke-esque. Truthfully our “telly” is our laptops.
It’s an amazing book, HUMAN RACE GET OFF YOUR KNEES, and reading it was the ultimate reading adventure. I felt it was the first time I was able to observe, and mostly imagine and comprehend, the root of the incredible evil that has engulfed our planet. A lot of it is how shall we say: shocking, beyond belief (but not really, if you don’t get too scared), stunning, profound. The deconstruction of language is breathtaking, the interrogation of symbols startling. Magical, in a way. I kept going: Oh, so that’s why…. You will too.
The Reptilian space beings whose hybrid (part human, part reptile) descendants make our lives hell in Paradise were blue eyed devils to Malcolm X, the devil himself to my Christian parents, who never talked about eye color, which I think was not only prudent but wise, although they seemed clear enough about his sex, and as demons in many other religions, including the non-religion, Buddhism, where the advice is often to invite them in until they go away. But maybe these were other kinds of demons. Not the ones controlling not just you, but everything.
*For instance: more study will be required to feel I truly understand “holographic universe,” and the importance of photon activity in the speeding up of our consciousness. Interdimensionality, shapeshifting, and the “frequency range of visible light” are huge areas for thought; there is as well a need to ponder the relevance of changes in the sun’s behavior to Earth’s quite calamitous climate changes.
I did not care for, or believe, the “death bed” confession of a Satanist tacked on at the end of the book. But Neil Hague’s paintings are extraordinary.
Another amazing book is Aids, Opium, Diamonds and Empire; the International Virus of Greed, by Nancy Turner Banks, M.D. I read this several months ago because my cousin, a pharmacist, sent it to me. Working as a pharmacist for something like forty years (recently retired) she had witnessed first hand the game run on the sick by the pharmaceutical corporations. But its reach is far beyond anything I would have imagined, from what she told me. It is actually a remarkable companion to Icke’s book. As is the work of columnist (in Truthdig and other places) Chris Hedges. In a way these writers “ground” the work of Icke, for those of us who need to keep one foot solidly in the earthworks of now.