When you take a Person’s Mind

by Jon Rappoport

September 28, 2021

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From a great distance
You see little puppets down there
Injecting RNA into arms
Faces behind masks
People locked up in their houses
It looks all very normal
As if people have always done this
But when you swoop down
And take a person’s mind in your hands
And turn it over
And really look at it
You see eternity
Reshaped into a toy
That buzzes
This mind couldn’t be what it is unless it was once ENDLESS
This is obvious to anyone who looks
In fact there is a museum of misshapen minds
Relics of bygone ages
Examples of how you could take infinity and drop it down into compartments and weasel holes and mazes and dead end alleys at midnight
Each “new” mind is a system
Bells and lights and buzzers
Always looking for add-ons
Because you see
A planetary vaccine campaign is really just an extension of misshapen minds
More bells and lights
From a great distance the whole thing looks like
A giant tinker toy
It’s only when you come much closer
Do you see the swollen hearts and the blood clots
And the dying
And the weeping

I have a collection of my own minds I used to have
here and there, now and then
MY minds
I take them out once in a while
When I had THIS mind I thought THAT
And when I had THAT one I thought THIS
And believed THAT
So many times and places
Too many to count
These minds will get a person embroiled
In all sorts of trouble
He’s inside a mechanical buzzard feeding on dead ideas
He’s crawling up the steps of a cathedral like a toy soldier with a hernia to listen to the sound of velvet Pope money rustling under robes
He’s clanking like an old rusty robot into a doctor’s office
And a nurse injects genes on to his iron arm where they sizzle like end-stage breakfast in a pan in a lost diner…
This is called CIVILIZATION
This is what people are doing to each other
700,000 vaccine injuries in America alone and you can multiply those reports by a factor of 100 to get the real number
And now in Massachusetts they’re testing babies
Churches are saying the Lord is all right with vaccination
The Sunday bells are ringing
Take the shot before you receive the blessing
Some toy minds are shaped into killers
They’re issuing the edicts
And lining up with shields and truncheons on the streets
And some minds are believing television news
And submitting with pride
On the lawns of Concord, where the first shots were fired in the American Revolution
They’re now injecting children with RNA
It’s a Saturday picnic
Balloons, pony rides, ice cream, a laser show in a tent
A bald man with a drooping moustache calls in the President through a bullhorn
And the old doddering leader shuffles into view, a ghost, gazing around him in wonder, looking for his childhood or his doctor or a penny piece of gum…


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)


Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

Lockdown dream and the Tibetans

by Jon Rappoport

September 27, 2021

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A person I knew a long time ago
Or so it seemed
Came back to visit me
We were sitting in his car
On a busy street
A block away
A hundred thousand
Protestors
Were facing off with cops in military gear
My visitor said
“I’m selling vaccines now and I think you’d be
A great member of my team
We go door to door
And peddle a shot in the arm
To prevent the plague”—
Someone threw a grenade
It bounced twice outside the car and exploded
He and I were floating in space
He was a salesman on the road in the sky
Hawking his product
He had interplanetary ambitions
He wanted to spread segments of RNA
Across the Milky Way
He said, “Remember that night at school
I got drunk
And tried to burn down the dorm?”
It all came back to me
He was the guy who was always
Sitting in class writing notes to himself
Making drawings
Talking about poetry
And now
This
A man on a narrow mission
To save the stars
We were in a spaceship
Speeding past
Forests filled with animals
And floating cities
People were shooting at us
“Suppose there’s no place to land?” I said
“We’ll find one,” he said
He voice was big and confident
He was smiling
Happy
And I was The Witness
It was my job to document
A stretch of time
In which things had changed
He took out a syringe
And slapped in a vial
And shot himself in the arm
His face turned blue
And he went into spasms
Then he straightened up
And took a deep breath and let it out
“Nothing like it!” he said
“Puts a jolt into you to start the day!”
His blue face faded to a dull green
“I have to feed this to the natives,” he said
I said to him, “You’ve gone interdimensional”
“That’s what my whole life was leading to,” he said. “A different
Form of death. This is the big lesson.”
“A lesson for who?”
“For everyone who’s tired of the every-day grind, who wants
Adventure. You realize how many people want to throw in
The towel?”
We were sitting in an old dusty theater. The lights were on.
A tall naked to the waist chieftain wearing a large headdress came down the aisle and stopped at our row. He ignored me
And said, “Did you bring the shit, Bob?”
Bob looked down and pointed at
Three suitcases.
“It’s all in there,” he said.
The chief broke out into a wide grin
It reminded me of Bill Gates’ Howdy Doody smile
—AND THEN I SAW what the old Tibetans
called the Great Void
everybody looks around and tries to figure out what to do
because the long hustle of discovery is over
and all the explorers have been paid off
There is nothing left
except a few magicians
living in cold mountains
punching holes in space-time at will
In Lhasa they were faced with that Nothing
and they turned to it
and finally saw universe
is a product
of mind
they sat in the holy rivers of energy
and took apart the river and the energy
too
down to Nothing
sat in it for
indeterminate length of no-time
stopping all creating
because they could
and then emerged
those few
magicians in the cold wasted hills and
and said WELL
if all you folks want to elect a billion reincarnated hopalong cassidys
as your presidents go ahead it doesn’t matter
we’re out here on the edge
inventing and destroying dimensions
—–I chained my old college friend Bob to his seat in the theater
I lit the suitcases on fire
And said to the chieftain
“Your connection just went null, pal
This is the new regime
Freedom
If you to try to grab it
And mold it
It burns”
I walked out of the theater
Busy street
And hailed a taxi
I rode over to a deli on 53rd St.
went inside, sat down, and ordered the brisket
Nobody was wearing a mask
A waitress who looked 80 years old
Brought over a plate and set it down
There was nothing on it
And I mean NOTHING
It was The Void
And she said
“You can have it if you want to”
And I said, “Not just now”
“It’ll wait” she said
And winked at me
And it was all right
I floated through the deli
And back out into the street
The night is long
The worm is turning
The cops are starting to realize they want to stand with the anti-vax protestors
A cop cracked a man’s skull
The man is in the ICU fighting for his life
The sadists know no bounds
But neither do we
I know the mountain where I once was
And the valley where I am now
And the sky in between
I’m looking at the line of cops in their military gear behind their shields
And I can see they’re terrified of the NOTHING
And now they’re falling into that NOTHING
And screaming
Because they have no one to smash to prove they exist
And they keep falling
And falling
And hundreds of thousands of us walk through them
On our way to Grid Central to turn the lights back on


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)


Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

Vaccine Woman

by Jon Rappoport

July 26, 2021

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there was no way to deny it or get around it
her little boy started screaming after the shot
and then 2 days later
the world shut down

he sat in a corner
he lay in his bed
he didn’t speak

the doctor huffed and puffed in back of his steady blank eyes
he assured her this had nothing to do with the shot
it was a predisposition or a genetic trait or a precondition

he smiled now and then
he said autism could have emerged on its own just after the shot was given
as if the universe rearranged itself
at that moment

she saw she was talking to a psychopath
he had been a machine for a long long time

she went into the darkness and pled her case before a government committee
they sat like ancient priests
and listened and glanced at documents
and when they had permitted her the allotted time they handed down their judgment:

no

she went home and took her boy in her arms
he was still
he didn’t look at her
he didn’t speak

she consulted a lawyer
who told her
the manufacturer was protected by an iron wall
he would continue to make the vaccine and sell it
and pocket billions

the long night was closing in
the storm was here
the silent boy was sitting in its eye

rage was burning in the middle of her chest

a rage the public would see as insanity

from a distance, the moon and the stars might know
what was going on
but people in their everyday straitjackets
would lash out at her
because they needed a target
they needed to ridicule a defector from their own slave-shuffle

they obeyed all the small print
they were neutered in their cores
paralytics

but she wields
the two-edged sword in the empire

that cuts away the web
and comes to the spider

no matter what defamation
the intermediary whores
lay at her door

liberty from the living death…Vaccine Woman

She and her family are pre-civilization, civilization, and

Post-civilization

And she will bare the innards of the crime

Her enemies will never know

What it means to have her mission

Vaccine Woman

Love in her breast for her own is one answer

Justice is another

She has a two-edged sword in the Empire

That cuts through the web

And comes to the spider

###


The Matrix Revealed

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, The Matrix Revealed, click here.)


Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

VISIONS OF THE EMPIRE: A poem for the 21st century

by Jon Rappoport

Copyright © 2021

July 23, 2021

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After money was sold down the river and resurrected on a cross of blood
After a cash-loaded God strolled into town
After the Universal Hospital drugged synapses and drove the wild horses of imagination down into underground canyons
and sculpted androids stepped out in the aftermath buying back their own memories

geologic wraiths spiraled up inside television sets—
their only ambition to stunt prayers for deliverance and kill raw desire—

we watched wildcats of Texas dripping sweat into their high hats pull black blood out of the ground and send it through tubes of night to porcupine refineries on the shores of the Body of Christ
   apostles were resurrected in knife-cutter fins of long Cadillacs running hot across the Kansas plains with blondes in the back seat drinking

New horizontal towns were multiplying on Long Island, stage flats of perfect geometry coddled in the breasts of hopeful mothers asking for redemption from pill-addled afternoons and hallucinatory music cooking in shining ovens
                             monthly budgets laid out neatly on Formica counters below the knives
          distant farm fields dead in the snow
         blank-eyed children walking in the snow
         cultivating nightmares they would one day visit on Reality

I flew over those fields and heard the crackerbox houses rot and rust as nothing ever rotted before

[…]

To read the poem in full, click here.


Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)


Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

The Magician Awakes

—for Mike Mahoney and Bonnie Lange—and FOR LAURA—

by Jon Rappoport

July 14, 2021

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“Aye, harpoons…stuck in him like so many corkscrews. Aye, his spout is big, like Nantucket wheat. Aye, by death and devils, the white whale is Moby-Dick, if Moby-Dick you see! It was Moby-Dick that dismantled me, that reaped off my leg like a mower, a blade of grass and left me with this dead stump I stand on…The prophecy was that I should be dismembered; and—Aye! I lost this leg. I now prophesy that I will dismember my dismemberer.” (Herman Melville, Moby Dick)

Scattered among my files, there are notes for a work called The Magician Awakes. Some notes I’ve already included in articles. Here is one passage I’ve never published. It’s narrated by a character who is wandering through a labyrinth:

“I’ve read everything, and I remember what I’ve read. I’m one of those people who eats books and authors. I’ve read philosophy and mysticism, physics, astronomy, biology and chemistry, mathematics, literature, poetry, history, and so on. And this was all by age 30.”

“After that, I found myself reading only one book, Moby Dick. Now I read it over and over, and the ideas and feelings swell up ever larger.”

“The whale, Ahab, Ishmael, the sea, the minor characters, they keep rising and swelling and increasing. Last year, they were at Saturn and Jupiter size; next year they’ll be consuming a quadrant of the Milky Way; then the whole galaxy; and finally, they’ll be out in indefinable space.”

“I had a dream about God. He, too, was reading Moby Dick over and over, and when I arrived in Heaven, he brought me to his table for a meal, and we sat down. He said, ‘I keep discovering new scenes I’d forgotten. Most people can’t understand I’m always exploring. After all, if I’m infinite, how could I be a finished product? I gave up reading the philosophers a long time ago. You need the sense of the poetic to GO FARTHER. No one seems to realize I didn’t make humans limited creatures. I gave them all doorways into the infinite, without me knowing the whole or even half of what that was’.”

“Where is Melville now?”

“’I gave him a cottage down the road, but he’s been gone from there for some time’.”

“You made the whales. You should know a great deal about them.”

“’I didn’t make Melville’s white whale. That’s his domain, and even he didn’t understand everything about it. How could he? You don’t explore with full knowledge of the map. By the way…look at the Earth. When the intrepid explorers die and rise above the planet, do you think they want to go back and incarnate again? Unlikely in most cases. Because the people in charge down there are obsessed with organizing and controlling the scene in all aspects. THAT means, little by little, Earth is drained of the most adventurous types. Do you see? An unintended consequence. A serious one’.”

“When you say ‘intrepid explorers’, you’re talking about imagination?”

“’How else are you going to navigate the uncreated spaces? In Moby Dick, it seems at first no one has it, but as you read the book over and over, it leaks out to you. Melville is the one with imagination. The course of the whale and Ahab and even Ishmael is set, but something else is there. An X factor. It’s the book above the book. It’s as if Melville wrote TWO. He wanted to. He wanted the inevitable tragedy. But something else in him couldn’t abide only that. It was his poetic sense. It shines through’.”

“Remember this Melville observation? ‘There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces’.”

“’That eagle-soul. Did I make it that way? Yes and no. I gave it an abundance of courage, but the soul decided he could range and roam in those extreme places. It’s freedom. Without it I would have created nothing more than a puppet show. People start out believing in a closed system. They think everything they want they can find inside that system. They can make magic from the inside. But they can’t. They never have. They have to get OUTSIDE, and then they have the ability. Sometimes what starts out as freedom turns into a system. Because they want to organize the parts. They’re rabid finishers and polishers. So then they’re INSIDE again. I’ve been writing a poem for some time. It’s about 100,000 pages now. I’m just getting warmed up. If you, the soul, were a physical form, which you’re not, MAGIC would live in the muscles and ligaments and arteries and nerves and heart and spleen and brain and liver and fingers and toes and ears and of course the eyes—it can’t be contained. It’s everything that exists outside systems. If my image is put inside a system, drop it off at the side of the road. It’s lost any value it might once have had. Infinite means INFINITE. I’m not messing around. The obsession with the little stuff is an affectation. That doesn’t mean you go with vague dead-leaf generalities. You throw every single thing you can think of into the mix. Cars, old tires, trinkets, gold shoes, bullets, road signs, rivers…I like to assume every person is writing an endless poem, whether he knows it or not, and there are plenty of bad ones, believe me. That’s because people are hypnotized by empty ideas. But it doesn’t matter. They’ll catch on sooner or later. Because again, INFINITE is REAL. There, two birds on every branch. The first one is a piece of the white picket fence and the white clouds and the horse and buggy moving along on the familiar street in the middle of town, but that bird is also one thing and creature in the mix of an endless poem that has lines as long as you want to make them…old Walt Whitman knew that. Read one of his eruptions. There are some truly terrible lines in there I would have edited out, but they have to be there, because he’s working up a head of steam, he’s moving toward a few immortal and unpredictable and unfathomable words strung together, and when you read them you’re stunned in your tracks, you can’t move for a few moments. I see you’ve been wandering in a labyrinth for a long time. You’re trying to figure out how to escape. This is a joke. There is no escape, which means there is no exit. That place where you came in? It’s closed now. You’re in a system, lad. Don’t fret. Just keep writing the poem. Look around you. What’s there? Throw it all into the mix. The old socks and the kitchen sink. And pretty soon you’ll be outside. Not by finding the exit. By magic. Come back around in a year or so and see me. I do readings now and then. We sit around and tell stories. There’s music. A few pals of mine, Ravi, Bird, Bud, Sonny, Igor. Bust the system, kiddo. That’s what it’s all about. The system in the mind. Just go the other way. The long shot turns out to be the favorite every time. It’s magic…’”


The Matrix Revealed

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, The Matrix Revealed, click here.)


Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.