Imagine, if you can, being one of those selcted, groomed and ushered into the upper echelons of the global tyrrany either by birth, by being of a blood, or by selection.
Imagine being amongst the brightest or the best connected that share a pathologic and loathsome character, charming by day, scheming by night, indulging ever increasing passions and measuring themselves against how well they are able to stifle any problems using money or privelege or direct or indirect power or influence.
Not that there will be problems because, once selected, you may do anything.
That's the deal the elite offer these vile creatures. The chance to suck the teat of the devil, the overwhelming evil that is destroying our minds, destroying our bodies and stealing our freedoms. It's the winning side. They scrabble to get on side.
Everything can be bought, everything provided, organised to the last detail. For this promise they sell their souls. The cost is a lifetime understanding of the term omerta and a lifetime, at cost of death, of doing exactly as they are told.
But don't worry. By and large they enjoy it.
"Let Kennedy be a lesson to you all. Don't get out of hand" is the mantra at Bilderberg or Skull and Bones or any other of their recruiting centres.
They think they've made a good deal, these ugly and unforgivable creatures, these fawning Uriah Heaps primping themselves up, smiling benignly over us like a bad impression of a kindly but sometimes stern and always fair daddy.
Amazingly, they are so good at this mind control business and this controlling psycopathy that we let them get away with it. We don't even see what they are and foresee what they will do to us if they get up that ladder.
No good ever comes of any of them.
There are millions of them.
They are the SS of the world fascist conspiracy, filling their top roles in the control grid, heads of corporations, civil services, the arms of the state, governments, banks. You will have met them in life, bustling their way past people in the great game, waiting for the invitation.
Inhuman people dominate every aspect of our lives, they do it at the behest of their masters, compete with each other as to their ability to rob the rest of us. They rob us of our work and therefore our time and our peace of mind and often our families, they rob us of our freedoms, our countries (which, to be fair, they invented in the first place), they rob us of our health and our wealth. They are robbing us of our retirement.
They want it all.
A new brood of their slavering lackeys is being nurtured right now, as it has ever been. Understanding the weaknesses and the strengths of these inhuman succubusses has been the key to the elite's successes. Their minds are a loss to the human race in the balance of power and the world war of the soul and they sit, greater or lesser, in the seats of power in every field of human endeavour.
They shape the world and direct it's resources (and people are just that to them) and hold every power.
And yet, at this "in the dark light" level, they number only around 20,000.
They serve about twenty extended bloodlines.
They always have.
They are so few.
Listen. If you're that sick, that bright, that energetic for power, that greedy for anything your perverted mind can conjure up, what career opportunity would you recognise?
The business of the exercise of power.
The great game.
And maybe one day the call will come, as you had hoped and prayed it would.
The gates to the club swing wide, and Hell is now your playground.
Roll your dice and play god.
The greatest game.
There'll be other bastards out there, just the same as you but hey, pretty soon in one way or another you'll all discover you're in the same club, sponsored by the same people, provided for by those same enablers. The right promotion here, the covering of a disgrace there, they grease the rails, gently fill you with the quiet confidence that you will be rich, you will have position, you will have power. They will provide it all.
Party on. You've crashed the final ceiling and you're on the board.
And now, let the games begin.
Once there at the table every lust or perversion is accomodated.
These are the rewards.
As you sink further into the arms of your addiction to self so your life becomes theirs, your actions are at their direction, you reach out and kill or you starve people to death or you invade or repress or otherwise satisfy your hunger for blood and misery at their behest.
And nobody will do anything.
Nobody will protest.
Even those who see it for what it is do so at places the masters' planned long ago, places that muddy the water. places that befuddle or dumb down or misinform or follow some crazy creed that turns the sheeple away or makes them laugh.
Watering troughs for the awakening stock, dribbling more poison into their minds, put their by them.
So of course by now they know who we all are, us seekers for the truth, and where we live.
They will just need to reach out a hand to grab us all before we become too many. That's why they carefully planned their own opposition.
To slow down and obfuscate and misinform and mislead and lead astray and to attract ridicule to the truth movement.
And to get the data.
Left to our own devices, who knows where we would have got to by now?
Perhaps critical mass?
The great engines of their mighty empire of patronage, ownership or controlling influence, manned by their noisome inhuman staff, weave the subtle webs of mind control spanning humanity in a world of their creation and in their ownership in every sphere.
Everything we touch, we discuss, we feel, we buy, we eat, we drink, we submit willingly to, all these belong to the false reality we are told to believe in and have dumbly and quietly and without murmur allowed ourselves to be in the position of being helpless to do without.
In other words:They have us by the balls.
So, there is only one objective for humanity.
Now it's not about keeping yourself informed.
It's not about sitting at your computer.
It's about beginning to resist.
It's about spreading the word and getting together in the flesh instead of on the internet and putting aside every difference and sharing just one single objective for humanity:
Doing something about THEM.
The map that shows the countries where visitors here come from fills me with a hope. This is just a tiny speck on the outer edge of the internet and yet visitors come from almost every country in the world. Not so many of you, but boy are you diverse.
There is a global family now on thousands of sites, in millions of places.
We need to get together.
No-one is counting us but the enemy.
Our invisible army is without name, without number, obscured and hidden to most except them. They are keeping a very close eye on us.
And still nowhere is there a single, unifying place that shows our number, that represents our strength, that shows our burgeoning power, that unequivocably states what we are going to do with that power. That fact alone is confusing until you sense the overwhelming organisation of their control structure.
No doubt one such place will appear.
No doubt they'll be behind it.
After all, they do this sort of thing for a living. Like shepherds they manage the flock, occasionally culling the herd, always sucking the blood from us, weakening us and, with their dogs snapping at our heels, take us in any direction they choose.
Even over the edge of the cliff into oblivion.
It is their ability to control the opposition even on the internet that allows them to continue with their noxious work.
And indeed time is short if we are to prevent their worst excesses as they march us towards their final solution.
It's time for YOU and I to DO something.
With peace and love in our hearts, with our inner souls making the decisions, resist, resist, resist.
Don't be frightened of being the first in your family or street or neighbourhood to give yourself over to this struggle.
Later on when this is all over everyone will understand the heroism you displayed on their behalf.
The behemoth is a dangerous and powerful creature.
But it can't beat us all.
So it's time.
Love to you and freedom from fear in the upcoming maelstrom of wickedness,
Olive Farmer xxx