Something other is amongst us.

Catharsis.

We write to bleed our angst, to express regret, to pour our emotion into the maelstrom and thereby to soothe, as oil upon troubled waters, the collective soul that is humanity's most valuable possession and its power.

This reality we experience is an output of the shaping of this power by something entirely contrary to our conscious and unconscious being.

Something alien to this world.

Humanity, we half-clever apes, peaceful as our cousin gorillas, powerful as they, in tune with our world's biosphere as they, communal as they, suffer from the intrusive endeavours of another species and their genetic half-breeds born of millennia of rape.

The thinker should understand that there is no creature of natural origins that does not fit the beautifully intricate balance of creation. Human beings fit into that creative beauty, as our cousins do. We have a place here. The destroyers of this world do not. They are usurpers, they are usurers in more than the usual sense. They are parasites.

The ancient tales of sky people, of reptilians, of others coming here to our world and breeding or genetically engineering our kind, those tales have left their trail of smoke and, if we follow that smoke trail to its beginning, we find the fire of truth, incandescent, white, ferocious, essentially psychopathic or demonic. Whatever it is does not matter, as long as we recognise it as inhuman, something “other”.

Our recorded history is of a species enslaved, a species suborned, a species moulded, a species that has within it a 'super race', pure blood at its head, supported everywhere and at every level by its bastard children that fill the ranks of the control mechanism, from the mall security guy to the Presidents of nations and the Godfathers of organised criminal enterprises.

These are our enemies, these pure bloods and those who are born with the genetic signature of their kind, those that however humble show at an early age the propensity to strangle puppies, to tread on ants, to beat the weak, to bully the meek, those that find that while the system pretends to abhor them that system, in actuality, finds a place for them in its vile hierarchy.

If they are dumb they become street thugs or beat cops, with the emphasis on beat. If they are bright they are called to the law, or to the science that makes bad pharmaceuticals or cluster bombs, or to the media psi-op, or to politics.

We have all of us witnessed the promotion to authority of those we human beings most despise. The greedy, the ruthless, the selfish, the unprincipled, the sociopathic. In politics we see that, above all, pure unadulterated wickedness is a pre-requisite. They must want to kill. They must take pleasure from the abuse and murder of our children.

They cannot help themselves.

Blood will out.

But we should not forgive them.

We should expunge them.

Our children's blood, as our own science now demonstrates, gives those that steal it vitality and longevity. If the child is terrified before it dies the extra boost of andrenochrome is added to the mix. Andrenochrome, despite its powerful effects, is 'legal'. It is a psychoactive of great power. The best source is the heart flesh of a just-killed child. Terrified prior to immolation.

Crowley reminded the demons and succubi of this essential ingredient. Dietrich Eckhart fed Hitler with it, engaging his demon.

You doubt this? Read of the Mexican drug cartels that had the eating of a murdered child's heart as an initiation. Read of the Inca and the wrongly glorified Maya, where the parents of the sacrificed child partook of the flesh. Read of Queen Elizabeth's ancestor Vlad Tepes, Vlad Dracula, voivode of Wallachia and how the current Prince Charles honours his memory. Read of Richard the Lionheart in the crusades eating the heads of Saracens. Read of the disappeared children everywhere in the world and how, everywhere, the police keep no records, how everywhere they defend the paedophile murderers that dominate our world.

There is a conclusion so outlandish as to be scoffed at by those incapable of connecting a few dots. There exists a predatory species amongst us. It feeds off us. It is superior to us. It outlives us. Its genetic fingerprint exists via rape amongst a good number of us, those we idolise, those we say 'yes' to, those we vote for, those we are afraid of, those who are 'adept' at controlling us.

“They Live”, the movie, was a documentary.

It gave us clues.

We need to find some way of 'seeing' them.

Then we need to chuck them off our planet.

This is our olive oil, this understanding, that we pour over the troubles souls of humanity.

Know this:

The olive tree is the root, not the trunk and branch and leaf which you can see. Cut down that which grows above and the tree will regenerate. Shape, by pruning its branches, and it will become beautiful and productive in a short time. The olive tree is a symbol amongst us, a symbol of peace, a symbol of humanity's relationship with nature.

Care for the tree and it will care for you.

Cut out what is rotten.

Give and it will reward.

Eat of its fruit and its leaf and its oil and you will enjoy its gift of health.

More than this: Understand we can, as a species, learn from this tree.

We must cut down the aged and malformed growth and put it to the fire.

Then shape a new tree.

We are the product of the nature of this planet, a planet with a biosphere so perfectly attuned that nothing of nature harms the whole.

Something else is here.

We know this now.

With Love'

Olive Farmer and Aktina Pempti

xxx xxx xxx