berichten van de rand van Nederland..................................................................................................................................................................................
zondag 27 mei 2018
ONCE UPON A TIME
(history of the end of the world)
Once upon a time our solar system, was visited by a mysterious race, called the Watchers. Actually they were a multi-dimensional group of entities, far ahead in their development, compared to other lifeforms developing in our young galaxy. The Watchers considered themself as cosmic gardeners. The planets, which contained life suitable for their purposes, were carefully studied and in every form imaginable they registered their growthpotential. Feeling like Gods, they operated that way. Leaving traces around the milkyway, where they presented themselves as Gods, Superior Masters or representatives of the Universal System. When they left, they always promised to return and providing the Elite, with the necessary tools to remain in power and continu the social- scientific experiment. When they visited our earth, they used their knowledge to create a slave-race, through genetical experiments, which sometimes went totally wrong. During this period of trial and error, about 300.000 years asgo, a galactic war broke out. The Watchers left Earth in a hurry. Their experiments were still in an embryonal state. There was no other possibility for them to hand over the gathered knowhow in a very short time. It was impossible, even for them, to prepare a decent transfer. As a result, the Books of Knowledge, which they used as a means of transfer were shattered. Every major power that had established itself on Earthon the planet Earth had obtained parts of it. Lots of information was lost, still hidden or falsely presented. The experiment on planet Earth went on. The Watchers, though expected to return, got, one way or another , lost in time-space. They were not heard of since. We were on our own now, or so we thougnt. But deeply routed in our genes, the Watchers had programmed an persistent archetype: to await their return; whatever happened. Human beings were programmed to believe in miracles and extra-terrestial saviours, like Ashtar, Imam Mahdi or Jesus Christ. But he seemed to have disappeared too; or at least: was not heard from in 2000 years.
THE ART OF FLYING
" Master, look, the birds are dancing in the sky. They are dancing to honour you." "They are dancing to welcome the future, a new world." " But master, I hear they are singing your name." " That's because I am the future."
SWEET HOME, ALABAMA
He played the music as loud as he dared. It was a song of calling. Earlier generations were programmed by this, and other songs, and it appealed to the rebel in man. And that was exactly what he needed. He, master Jian, had been back on his homeplanet, for a couple of months now. He was shocked by what he saw. In 1989 he had left the mainstream of this society, to undertake a journey into the darkness and beyond. That's when he had discovered and met those alien forces. With some he became friends, but most were sworn ennemies. The latter wanted to see a return of their investments. Earth had until now been a cosmic laboratory, combined with a place to dump the worst and darkest minds of the cuniverse. But the experiment had gotten out of hand. Inspired and helped by alien intelligence mankind was now ready to conquer the planetary system. Technically they could do it and some did. The latter vanished during the excperiment. But the ambition was still their and when the governments would stop spending money on war and military equipment, the step into space would be easy. Social engineers of the Empire had infiltrated the world governments and institutions to continue the current level of world warfare and terror. But even here, the military had developed weaponry which could hurt the military forces of the Empiri as well. Things threatened to get to the worst and finally the Empire had decided to strip Earth from his resources, after which it could be turned in to the private huntinggrounds of the Emperor and his clique. Why was our venture to get into space that dangerous? Humans would discover, that they were living in a solar system which was completely artificial and constructed by alien entities, which presence and activity was clearly visible. Even on the moon, which was in fact an abandoned warfortress, being activated again.
CHUMBAWAMBA - TUBTHUMPING
" I GET KNOCKED DOWN, BUT I GET UP AGAIN. YOU NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN."
" MASTER, WHY ARE YOU PLAYING THAT SONG OVER AND OVER AGAIN?" " IT REMINDS ME OF THE GOOD TIMES." " THE GOOD TIMES MASTER, THIS SONG IS ABOUT VIOLENCE." " SOMETIMES VIOLENCE IS AN IMPORTANT TOOL." " WHO WERE YOU FIGHTING, MASTER. DID YOU WIN THE BATTLE?" " NO, WE LOST IN THE END." " MASTER, HOW LONG DID THIS BATTLE LAST?" " FROM AUGUST TILL MAY." " THAT LONG, MASTER?" " YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND, THAT WE ARE TALKING ABOUT FOOTBALL." " WHY NOW, MASTER, ARE YOU HONOURING THE PAST." " NO, MY SON, I AM PREPARING FOR THE FUTURE.
" The operation has begun." Orlov repeated the sentence carefully. It was the best argument he had and even his oponent had in the end agreed with the goal of this galactic intervention. " So we were behind the erupting volcanoes on Iceland." Jian didn't sound surprised. They were using equipment built by humans. The Alaska-stated HAARP-installation was pumping billions of volts into the stratosfeer. Created to manipulate the weather on the battlefield, the effects had totally gone beserk. Creating weatherchanges, earthquakes, hurricanes and volcanic eruptions. Still the experiments had increased and spread arouind the world creating total chaos. And that was only one of destructive experiments of the governing Elite, creating a Big Bang another. Had the point of no return been reached or lay this phase behind them. " Commander, you must have heard stories about this sword." He pointed a the sword. " I would like to add a story to it." Some present grinned. That's why the Master had a nickname: the Crazy Monk. One reason of the name was, that even in dangerous situaties, the Master Jian, was always telling stories, reciting poetry or singing songs. Orlov's attention had been drawn and he nodded. As if he was presenting a Roman legion the Crazy Monk rose again. " My name is Jian, I am human. This sword's name is Jian, it bears the essence of this human world and once played an enormous role in Asia. It is mine by descend and by conquest. But it is broken. In this state his power is fragmented and chaotic." The dominating figure paused. " I know a way to heal this sword. On this planet lives the only craftsman, who can restore the sword and its power." The Master paused again, drawing every-one's attention, he smiled inwardly. " How easy they could be fooled". He turned his head to commander Orlov. " I ask permission to organise a searchparty to find this craftsmen or the necessary technique." This all seemed innocent enough, Orlov thought, but the Master was reknown for complicated intriques and was a conspiracy-expert. Plans behind plans. But he accepted the importance of the sword for the master, who was about to loose his homeplanet. " If there is no interference with our plans," He looked up at the Master, which made him feel uncomfortable, who shook his head, " Than I grant you permission for a small searchteam." The Master smiled. " You won't be disappointed. This sword will change the destiny of my future." That last remark made Orlov uneasy, but Jian being away, meant a lot less potential turbulence on the mothership. " Meeting closed." , Orlov said. He too knew what his future would bring.
" Master, please sit down." Orlov ordered the rest of the staff to take their seats. He especially had used the title Master. It meant that he was just a guest and scientific adviser and that he had no political or military task. Without hesitation the master sat down, while putting the sword in front of him. The silence thickened and the guards at the door movede uneasily, waiting for a Orlov's sign to intervene. Some say he gave the sword his own name, others that he adopted the sword's name. Orlov looked at the famous sword in front of him. It really existed or whas it a fake. "Master Jian, you know that it is forbidden to take weapons to a meeting like this. His opponent nodded. " Commander, this is not a weapon, yet." He drew the sword and it fell in pieces on the desk. Orlov had not the faintest idea, where Master Jian was heading. He never had been that interested in history and mythology. Which made him, in his own eyes and the eyes of the Empire, an efficient and component soldier. The way he had handled the sword immediately draw the attention of crewmembers. " They love weapons, expecially ancient ones.", he thought." Commander, this sword has a story to tell." Orlov shrugged his shoulders. " We are past the phase of storytelling, master Jian, the operation has begun and there is no way stopping it." " Commander, that's what von Moltke said to the Kaiser, when he wanted to stop World War 1 on this planet. There is alwaus a chance and there is always hope. Even for my people, though they have made a big mess of this world. Commander this sword carries a story and a power, that could save humankind."
" I ask permission to speak." The meeting fell silent and every-one focussed on commander Orlov. He obviously enjoyed the attention and stared at his opponent. Though seated, he looked a tall and strong individual. He was completely bald and wore the simple black dress of a revolutionary kommissar. He wore no juwelery or battle-insignia, except a simple seven-pointed star. His way of saying that he obeyed the Mother-God. Orlov hesitated. Giving him room to move meant trouble. The commander new of his ancestry. The inhabitants of this planet were his people. Which made his participation in this delicate mission a potential problem. It was known, and by some even accepted, that he would fight till the end to save his planet. " Commander, I do ask permission to speak." While saying that he rose. Revealing not only he was extremely tall and muscular, but that he was carrying a jian on his hip. The crew hissed, when they saw this. It was totally illegal to posess a weapon like that.
" I ask permission to speak." The meeting fell silent. Commander Orlov awoke from a silent slumber. All reports had been well. The planet was about to selfdistruct. The dominant human species were hopelessly drifting towards total destruction. Their was hardly any effect, when completing the operation, measurable on futute timeframes. The people were that desperate, that they were awaiting destruction. Hoping to be killed in some kind of disaster. Totally ignoring that they were totally following an, implanted, deathwish. People were living their life, if everyday was their last. And they werre right, even though they had no idea how terrible their fate would be. A quick death was a blessing, for them all. But this was impossible. Some humans were precious, to precious to waste. Their genes, ferocity, manpower and sexual distraction were in high demand. The slavetraders would be the first to move in. " I ask permission to speak." Orlov knew immediately, who had interrupted the beautiful harmony of this meeting. It was the only Earthling , he knew of, whio had fought his way into the Emprial hierarchy being the legitimate heir to this starsystem. He wore simple black clothes, with a seven-pointed star; a provocation Orlov thougnt, on his chest.
Meanwhile in the motherchip the commander and his staff gathered for a final meeting. Countdown for Operation Harvest had begun. While everybody waited until the commander had occupied his chair, every entity present in the room checked their latest data. Commander Orlov, was a wellrespected captain in the Imperial Fleet. Though he was not the right man for the job, Central Comand had put him in charge. He kinew that he could only proof himself or fail. The Handbook for Alien Contact would be his guideline. In the end it would all be simple. The planet Earth had to be harvested. It meant that the whole planet, including its inhabitants, should be stripped for use elsewhere in the Empire. When this was done, the remnants would be left to the Aliens, never to be heard from again. Though he looked human, Orlov had no geneticval connection what-so-ever with the human inhabitants of this planet. He didn't care at all for his look-a-likes. Just the Imperial Timeline would be his guide. It meant that about 2012 the overt operations could be started, finishing the job in 2016. He had carefully chosen his officers, which had resulted in a diverse crew, resulting in minimal personal contact. That was the way he liked, that was the way to run a ship.
" Master, they say that a Second Sun will appear in the skies, announcing the coming of a World Teacher. His name is Maitreya." " That's a false Maitreya, an ingenious, well-prepared fake." " Master, how do you know that. Why are you so sure?" " Because I am the real World Teacher." " Master, why do you keep silent. Why don't you reveal this imposter." " I am not silent; people don't hear me." " Master. why don't you stop communicating. They don't understand and dislike your words." " I cannot. I was programmed that way."
A giant spaceship was approaching Earth, hiding behind our sun. While coming closer it could easily been seen, especially at sunset. In the nearby future the worldgovernmwent, the ruling elite, would announce the arrival of a, previously unknown, comet. A natural phenomena happening every twentysixthousand years or so. The arrival would even be welcomed, because it seems to soften the natural catastrophes, which terrotized mankind. Planet X they would name it, Niburu or the New Star. Its arrival would be welcomed as if the phenomenon was the announcement of the returning of the Christ. Almost nobody knew that the comet was in fact an Imperial spaceship, witch multiple crew, even containing some human species, had only one goal in mind. Recapturing Earth and destroy humankind. Exploration began and while the elitecorps went into a learning-trance; communicationexperts analysed the transmissions and datatransport on Earth and slowly worked their way in.
In the Cairo-museum the mummified body of the Great Rameses, moved.
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