Richard Bandler is the Devil.

Richard Bandler is the Devil.

We can all picture Richard Bandler riding a giant vampire bat that grabs young children and tosses them into the burning stomach of an enormous man-bull statue as a line of Rothschild’s wait for their turn.  

But I’m not here to talk about what Richard Bandler does in his free time. I won’t even speculate on his favorite drink (infant blood), or his 2nd favorite drink (unicorn cum). I just want to talk about the night Richard Bandler got away with murder.

How evil is Richard Bandler? He shot his friend’s girlfriend in the face, with his gun, at her home, then convinced a jury that he didn’t do it. Now how does a gun, and its owner, get to the house of the victim in the first place? You get the picture, stay away from the guy.

Yet, here I was, on Bandler’s couch, taking a private NLP session to get over my food addiction.

“How often do you touch yourself?” Bandler asked. “No need to feel ashamed. We’re all friends.”

“What does that have to do with my food addiction?” I said.

“I’ll answer that.” Bandler said. “But first, I want you to look into my eyes. Imagine your hand is some pepper, and your dick is a baked potato. Lather that pepper over the potato. Let’s see how it taste.” 

“What the hell?”

There was an awkward pause before I decided to take off the VR visor. Benjamin, had received the PlayStation VR setup to try the new NLP game “The Map is the Territory.” He didn’t tell me that Bandler was the games final boss. He did however tell me that there would be boobies, there were no boobies.

“Nice, Jose.” Benjamin said. 

“Hell no! I ain’t doing that again.” I said.  

“You only have to do it one more time. You can’t just quit treatment before its over. There could be major repercussions.”

Oh yeah. Like what?” 

“NLP is an egragore, Bandler is its patron. Disconnecting from your virtual therapy can damage your subconscious.” Ben said. “It has imprinted you. Or it hasn’t…. So you just can’t get up and quit. That’s some bad juju.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Ben looked into his exotic quartz crystal ball. That was my cue to scoot.

The whole train ride home I could hear Ben’s words but it was hard to take the man seriously. Imprinted? What kind of horseshit was that? 

It’s easy to be scared of Bandler, who took the teachings of Milton Ericsson and used them to help usher in the era of consumerism that works as the engine of the world economy. The parasitic ecosystem that drifts towa the top 1%. No, Bandler didn’t invent consumerism anymore than Apple invented the smartphone, but like Steve Jobs, he put it into a package that everyone could understand, NLP.

Since then, the world has been a worst place. Not exactly because people use NLP, but because of what people have used NLP for. Like in advertising, where companies use NLP to bombard the subconscious with images of garbage no one needs and turning us all into zombies. Or how about the PUA’s? Do you think the world needs a bunch of geeks “peacocking” outside of cafes, night clubs, and pool halls? Can’t they just masturbate like the rest if us? What about Tony Franken’Robbins? Do we need another Arnold Swarzenegger running for office? How does any of that make the world better?

PIck-up artist culture. Brought to you by NLP.

After about a gallon of vodka, and a g of grade A kush, I decided to charge a sigil before going to sleep. As I collapsed my head onto my pillow, my eyes started to close. I saw the face of Bandler staring at me from the foot of my bed as the conscious world began to disappear. He was smiling. 

“Do you believe in Word Magick,” Bandler said as the world faded to black.

I heard a metallic clink, the air felt thick, then suddenly, a rush of hot steam shot onto my face. Forcing my eyes open. I looked around, I wasn’t in my room anymore. This was some shit out of a horror novel, or an 80’s movie, it was some kind of factory or basement, complete with mesh walkways and leaky steam pipes. I was standing in the corner of the giant room. There seemed to be a couple of levels above and below me. But my view was obstructed by steam. 

“I must be dreaming,” I said. 

I tried to pinch myself to wake up but it wasn’t happening. I screamed, I yelled, I even peed into the steam below, nothing. I was stuck in this dream. And worst, now I was sure that I was sleeping in my own piss.

I realized that it was more than a dream as a hot redhead emerged from the cloud of steam from across the mesh walkway and started walking towards me. She moved with feline precision, floating on a cloud of air. The whole time, peeling off her clothes until she was standing in front of me completely naked. 

I didn’t waste any time as we went to the floor and started to get busy. I was about to get mine when I felt her pull away.
“You’re going to feel great,” Bandler said. I opened my eyes, the redhead’s face was replaced with Bandler’s. I tried to move but the thing had wrapped its legs around me. I could only manage to pull my head away..

“Sometimes people say ‘One day you’re going to look back at this and laugh.'” Bandler said. “My question is: ‘why wait?'”

He grabbed me by my ears and moved forward to kiss me. Just before he got close, his head exploded. Green bile splattering everywhere, including on my face. I looked up confused. Standing above me was my “savior”, with a shotgun pointing down towards the spot where Bandler’s head had been. My savior was also wearing a ski mask, which he took off to reveal a face I knew all too well, Ben Beardsley.

Ben put on his fedora then pumped a shell back into the chamber of his shotgun. “Get up.” He said.”We’re getting out of this places.”

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The Death of Andrew Breitbart.

The Death of Andrew Breitbart.

The murder of Andrew Brightbart, is one of the juiciest, and perhaps most believed conspiracies among conspiracy theorist. After all, Andrew Breitbart, did not shy away from controversial statements. Like going public in a video with allegations that John Pedosta had something to hide. And shortly before his death, there was this tweet.

Who the fuck is that guy on the bottom right of this photo?

Now you can choose to believe that the Clintons ran cocaine out of Arkansas while Bill held political office, or that politicians deal directly with Satan and channel demonic entities at Bohemian Grove with all their illuminati buddies (probably all true). Or even that the Clintons, Obama and Podesta had Andrew Breitbart killed for his repeatedly toxic rhetoric towards them. But if you considered all this more than the possibility that Andrew Breitbart was killed by his own propensity for cheeseburgers, then I suspect that you are either (A) an Alt-Right troll, B) a complete idiot, or C) correct.

But if you insist on going the conspiracy route, might I offer you another more viable line of bullshit? Let’s ignore for a moment that Andrew Breitbart had let himself go and drank (and snorted?) his middle aged vessel into the bloated toad that we saw at the end (Not to mention that he died outside a bar in the wee hours of the morning after drinking)and just go all in on the idea that he was ……..murdered. 

I for one love a True Crime story, and one of my favorite games is irresponsible  speculation. And trust me, I can dedicate hours upon hours of confirmation bias to this pastime

First of all, what was Andrew Breitbart? A writer, a publisher, an entrepreneur? True, he was all these things according to his wiki. Yet, when I think of Andrew Breitbart, I don’t think of his articles, his books, or his business ventures. I don’t even think about his conservative/libertarian/unsympathetic views on race or culture. I think of all the times that Andrew Breibart opened his mouth and pissed people off. Because if Andrew Breitbart was good at anything, It was making people angry.

Andrew, lived for the thrill of being the center of attention, like when he went on shows like Opie and Anthony just to show pictures of Anthony Wiener (which he kept on his phone) jacking his meat stick. Or the time he declared in front of a roaring crowd of like minded, “culturally similar” people that he was going to expose Barack Obama with college videos from almost 25 years before his presidency. Videos that never saw the light of day despite all the channels of distribution at his disposal, like the aforementioned shock jock show circuit, Fox News, and of course his own news outlet named after himself, Breitbart.

Now surely, given his obnoxious nature, the possibility of being suicided must have crossed Andrew’s mind at some point. But whether he believed that it was possible, or he didn’t, you could rest assured that nothing was going to stop Andrew Breitbart from saying what he was going to say and doing what he was going to do. You see, Andrew, was by all accounts either a courageous trailblazing truth speaker, or a petty, outright bully. 

So yeah, it’s possible that someone killed Andrew Breitbart because of something he said or did. But in my opinion, that’s way too easy to believe given that slandering and trolling was all he ever did. As annoying as he was, why would someone kill him for it?  

Then something occurred to me the other night while watching “The Big Lebowski” for the 100th time. 

“It’s like Lenin said, you look for the person who will benefit… And, uh… You know, you’ll, uh… You know what I mean.” The Dude.

The actual quote from Lenin goes:


“When it is not immediately apparent which political or social groups, forces or alignments advocate certain proposals, measures, etc., one should always ask: “Who stands to gain?”

So in this case, “Who stands to gain?”

What does let’s say, Barack Obama, stand to gain by assassinating Andrew Breitbart? Shutting him up? Does anyone think that there was a chance that a Breitbart follower would vote for Barack Obama under any circumstances? And vice versa, does anyone believe that a base Barack Obama voter would have been swayed by anything that Andrew Breitbart had to say?

Killing Breibart over being Breibart is like hunting sharks for biting people. It doesn’t make sense. If you decide to kill someone like Breitbart, you do it because he has something. And the most valuable thing he had at the time was the Breibart brand. Now try for a moment to understand how powerful that brand is, Breitbart, was patient zero of that of the skinny jeans wearing, tiki torch baring, neo-nazi group in Charlottesville

He was what they will turn into in twenty years. They will look and talk like him. They will quote him, turn to his philosophies, photocopy his ideology into their DNA. They will canonize and follow his name into the next Charlottesville or Trump Administration. Leading that group of dedicated racist, that group of “disagree with me and we are at war” victimized morons, is worth billions in power and influence. And there is only one person who wanted that more than anyone else, Steven K Bannon.

Bannon, has been called by many people the most evil man in existence. Bannon, is not called evil for his conservative beliefs (although he could be). He’s also not evil for his support of Trump (although a case could be made). Bannon is evil for the simple reason that the motherfucker is the pure embodiment of anti-good incarnate. A true detriment to humanity. A man who is actively trying to bring about the motherfucking apocalypse .

If anyone had a motive to see Breibart dead, it was Bannon, just consider how much he benefited from it.

  • He “inherited” Breitbart News. 
  • He retained the dedicated attention of the neo-nazi, skinny jean wearing, army of tiki torchers.
  • The exclusive financial backing of Billionaire Robert Mercer, a richer, smarter, more evil version of Lex Luther.
  • On top of all that, he became the right hand of Donald Trump with a made up position, just for him. Can’t you picture Andrew Breitbart speaking at the republican convention? Giving interviews, defending the Charlottesville protest and demonizing counter protestors for opposing Neo-Nazis? I can. 

It was after taking all these facts into consideration that we here at 33HQ decided to undertake a ritual to discover the truth.

We knew we had to speak directly to the devil.

It was storming outside that night. The thunder erupted across the sky in a rolling crash as the rain began to pour down. Ben was waiting for me at the crossroads, slouching against the downpour in his trench coat and fedora.

“You got the book?” I ask.

“Sure,” Ben says, holding up the embossed, leather-bound volume that flickers as a bolt of lightening cracks open the sky. “You got the chicken?”

I lift that fat cock up to Ben’s eyes, “This is Andrew.” I say over the roar of the rain. “Andrew Breitbart.”

To be continued…

How To Scry: The Definitive Poke Runyon Interview

How To Scry: The Definitive Poke Runyon Interview

If you don’t know Poke Runyon, then he is no doubt more disappointed by that fact than any of you are. Poke Runyon is not a conspiracy theorist. Let’s make that clear. Poke is what you would call a magician of the ceremonial kind. He’s very similar to the ones you read about in medieval times. Men of sorcery and alchemy who scried into a black mirror or ventured across the land in search of sacred knowledge muggles like us never knew existed.

To put it it bluntly, Poke Runyon is a fabled mystical figure of his own creation. Just check out his Metapedia page, no doubt written by Poke himself. In it, Poke takes credit for black mirror scrying by rewording it into something different. But really, it’s just black mirror scrying. He didn’t make it up.
Reading his page and actually getting through it, was much easier than I thought it would be. That’s because as far as charlatans go, Poke is very good at talking about himself and making that information seem interesting. However, it gets convoluted very quickly. Somehow I know that a lot is missing. I feel like there is more to it. Something, just isn’t there. If I had two words to describe that something, I would call it the truth. 

And here is where I encounter the limits of the Internet. Poke’s accomplishments are too fragmented across its treacherous landscape to extrapolate a reliable narrative. It became clear to me that in order to find out the truth about Poke, I would have to get it straight from the mage’s mouth. I would have to speak to Poke himself.

Speaking to Poke Runyon would be no easy undertaking. He’s a pseudo celebrity after all, and there is also some electronic proof of me slandering him out there. It also doesn’t help that I have the face of a slanderer. Still, with all this against me, I continued to take up this task, if for anything else, for the possibility meeting a great master magician. 
I turned to the Internet again for clues of how to find him. Word is that Poke runs the Temple of Astarte, the OTA, out of a secluded lodge in California. Now I would go there, but that would be the easy thing to do. Also, I don’t have the money. But almost any other interviewer can buy a plane ticket. No. This deserved a more nuanced approach, a more, dare I say it, magical approach. 
As I stared into the empty black mirror of my iPhone, it came to me, I would scry Poke Runyon, from my iPhone. With the help of a friend, of course.

“Nooooooo, noooooo, noooooo!” Benjamin said as he levitated above the tatami mats of his flat. “No fucking way.” 

“But we call up demons all the time,” I said. “You love that shit!”

“No.” Ben said. “I am not scrying into a mirror for Poke Runyon. That’s where I draw the line.”

Ten minutes later, Ben had already prepared the basics for the ritual, we just needed one more thing….

“The black mirror.” Ben said.

“I got it.” I said placing my iPhone down on the table.

Ben turned off the lights to the room and got a couple of candles going. He then sat down in front of my phone and began to call upon Poke. It only took four minutes, but the fires from the candles got brighter, and the room was then filled with the faint aroma of bullshit. 

“He’s here.” Ben said.

The following is a conversation between myself and Poke Runyon scried on the black mirror on my iPhone. It’s as real as any conversation Poke has ever had with a black mirror.

Thanks for coming Poke.

You’re most welcome. And thank you! I always welcome the opportunity to speak to a fan.

Well, I’m not a fan, I’m just interviewing you. Or scrying you, or whatever.

Oh? Are you a journalist?

No. I’m not a journalist. 

Then you must be a fan! 
Okay. Never mind, listen, Poke, may I ask you a couple of questions while you’re here?
Well, that depends… Have you taken all the precautionary measures for this ritual? 
Yes. I think so.

And are you of sound mind? Have you partaken in any types of hallucinatory substances?

What? 

Have you …. You know? (The spectral vision of Poke in the mirror makes a smoking gesture) 

Okay! Nevermind. I’ll stick with irresponsible speculation.

No. No. No. Proceed with the interview.

No. Seriously, I don’t have time for this shit. I only wanted to ask you a couple of questions. And you got all weird and shit. 

No. It is rude to call on a spirit without consorting with it. Please, proceed with your questions
(I look at Ben, who is already uploading some photos of the ritual on to the CMG. Ben types “Have you ever scried? What for, and how do?” )

Poke is right. It is rude to call upon a spirit without properly consorting with it, Ben said.

Ha! The rabbi is accurate. Ask your questions my young acolyte. 

Thank you. Okay Poke, I only have three.

The only more perfect number would be 93.

Please stop doing that.

Doing what? 

Responding to everything I say with a dramatic connection,

Do you not want me to answer your questions? 

I’d like you to let me ask them first. We’ve been here for already five minutes and you haven’t even let me speak.

Proceed.

Did you in fact sell trinkets to rich people while living in the sewer?

That wasn’t me, that’s from the movie “Simon, King of the Witches” which is in no way based on my life.

That’s right, so did you do it or not? 

Young man, did you not hear my words? “Simon, King of the Witches” is in no way based on my life. 

I’ll take that as a yes. My second question. You’re credited with “rediscovering” the ancient method of black mirror scrying. First of all, how does one “rediscover” something that has already been discovered and in still in practice? And secondly, how does a person see something in a mirror without the use of drugs or any other kind of mind altering substances?

Rediscover.” Such a fascinating notion, I guess I did rediscover this method and reintroduce it to the masses…

No. Poke, that’s not what I asked. I asked….

As for your second question, the answer is just as simple…

Alcohol? 

Yes.

Ok then. My last question, and then you can go…. Please. When you died and came back, you allegedly returned with ancient sacred knowledge, what specifically was that ancient sacred knowledge?

The ancient sacred knowledge? Oh my. How do I begin…

You can by opening your mouth and telling me.

The secret ancient knowledge. Why, it’s simple, you only have to…. Oh, I’m very sorry my young acolyte, but I must make flight, for my journey through the ether must continue. Please feel free to call upon me another time. 

Poke, that’s not how it works, you can’t leave until we close the circle and allow you to go. I know this from watching your DVD “The Magick Of Solomon.”

It is good to see that the younger generation has taken it upon themselves to preserve the ancient secret knowledge.

Stop referring to me as a fan, acolyte, and young. I’m forty. Dude, Poke, just please answer my question.

And what, exactly, is your question?

Grrrrr! What is the ancient secret knowledge? 

That I cannot tell you, unfortunately. You must discover it for yourself.

Okay. We stay here until you tell me.

(Five hours of awkward silence pass. Ben had already completely lost interest and moved on to answering his Facebook messages, which at that point had to be in the hundreds of lost souls such as myself seeking his guidance. Poke’s eye had begun to twitch slightly.)

Ready to talk, Poke? 

I’m sorry, but I can’t share the sacred ancient knowledge with you.

(Another five hours pass. During which Ben went down to the Lighthouse for a couple of drinks. I looked into Poke’s sleepy, pug eyes. He had the resolve, but so did I.)

Poke?

Yes.

You don’t have the secret ancient knowledge do you? 

(Poke intently contemplated my question for an entire one quarter of a second before giving the answer that I should have known all along.)

No.

Okay. 
So I closed the circle and joined Ben at the Lighthouse. The moral of the story being that perhaps Poke has something of value to share with the rest of society other than his outsized messiah complex. But, if so, he doesn’t know it yet, and even if he did, I doubt he would tell any of us.

“You’ve learned a very valuable lesson today,” Ben said with a smile as he finished his Vodka Cranberry.

“Which is?”
“Never trust a magician.”

No shit. 

David Icke: The Turd In The Punch Bowl

David Icke: The Turd In The Punch Bowl

If you haven’t heard of David Icke, he’s a “conspiracy theorist” whose combative debating style and often spectacular claims have made him both the subject of ridicule and fascination over the last twenty odd years. 
When it comes to conspiracy theories, you really haven’t heard anything yet until you’ve heard David Icke.

Illuminati?

Training wheels.

JFK assassination?

Kids stuff.

Roswell?

You really like wasting your time, don’t you?

How about ancient shape shifting reptilians from another dimension controlling the world through an elite bloodline (like the British Royal Family) who use the moon (which is an artificial construct) to direct a reality altering frequency from Saturn that hides their reptilian nature from us? “They Live” style.


If you are an aspiring conspiracy theorist, or an Alex Jones for that matter, you really have nothing on David Icke. Because if he is willing to say that, what could anyone do or say to shame him? And here’s the thing; why should David Icke be ashamed? He gets paid a good wage to do what he loves most, slander people, say crazy shit, travel the world, and be the center of attention. 

To write this post I consulted the all knowing Wikipedia. But I got bored of that really fast and just started watching old videos of him. To be fair, there seems to be just as many videos of David Icke as there are on Michael Jordan. Certainly more of him talking about himself or his beliefs (and defending them) than there are of people like Aleister Crowley and Jack Parsons, or even more contemporary figures like Terrance McKenna and Robert Anton Wilson. The former two men who seem to personify the kind of evil, alien, occult conspiracy David Icke is trying to warn us against. And let’s be clear, I’m not saying that there isn’t an evil, alien, occult conspiracy, I’m just saying that David Icke is completely convinced that there is one, and most of us are not. I also asked some of the mega minds over CMG for their opinions. 

I could have picked up one of David Icke’s books, but I can’t picture myself sitting through any of them just to get a better idea of why he thinks the Queen of England is a lizard. But if you can, by all means,  knock yourself out.  Perhaps, if the comparison was a metaphor of some kind. But that isn’t the case here. (Or is it?) 

Looking back at David Icke’s career, the one thing that stands out is the progression. We go from here to there fairly quickly. He starts off by getting some type of vision proclaiming that he is the son of God. After that, he finds himself in South America receiving another vision, somehow downloading the real truth into his brain and “waking him up” to the realities, or in this case, unrealities of the world around him.

Now, David, seems to have forgotten (okay, not completely) that he is the son of God. And has instead propelled himself into the forefront of even crazier sounding ideas that’ll get you ridiculed by even the most hardened, unreliable conspiratorial narrators. 

Like the aforementioned Alex Jones, who once compared David Icke’s rhetoric to finding a “turd in a punch bowl.” Jones, has come around on Icke and now counts him as a friend, but they got off to a rocky start. 

Then there are the charges of anti-semitism. Which seem pretty obvious to some being that Jews have been subjected to reptilian slander for hundreds of years. David Icke’s bigotry is more sophisticated than calling someone a kike. His slander is vague, with the exception of the reptilian talk. He will talk around it and take the Anti-Zionist angle, and even sprinkle in “some, not all” rhetoric along the way to further throw you off the trail. But if you listen, it’s there. I would go as far to say that he’s embraced the literal reptilian angle to avoid charges of anti-semitism. Problem is, some of remember those anti-Jew rants.

It’s really hard to appreciate David Icke’s good points with all this other shit circulating around him. I could say that he is an eloquent speaker who brings a lot of confidence to his lectures. He handles interviewers like a champ as well. And he’s now a master at deflecting the reptilian skepticism he faces at the beginning of every mainstream media interview he does. I also applaud his willingness to tell the elite families to go fuck themselves. However, if I were to weigh the good and the bad, I would say that there is much more bad here. 

I’m not saying it’s aliens but…

reptilian

Reptilians.

One of our hot topics for debate here at the 33rd Parallel is reptilians. Do they exist? And if so, what are they? Where do they come from and what do they want?

The concept of our reptilian overlords was popularized by conspiracy guru David Icke, possibly to discredit himself in the eyes of certain powers that might have him assassinated if he sounded sane.  But the idea of reptilian humanoids has a lineage stretching back through the popular men’s fantasy fiction of the 1930’s, Helena Blavatsky’s Dragon Men of Lemuria, and even farther. Even the name Dracula comes from the word “dragon”, and was the name of an order that Vladamir Tepes was granted in the 1400’s for his ferocity.

So what’s the story here?

Possibility 1: The Common Sense Explanation

Some of us here at the 33rd HQ believe that reptilians are a metaphor for the R-complex, the part of the brain which controls our basic survival and base pleasure instincts. Fighting, fleeing, fucking and freezing are all governed by our reptile brain, so called because it is the most primitive part of our brain structure, with the limbic system (mammal brain) and neocortex (human brain) building on its underlying architecture.

According to this theory, “reptilians” are a metaphor that can be projected onto people or groups whose behavior seems cold blooded or alien. This process of projecting unconsciously held metaphors has been observed in specific populations.

According to this article by Jon Ronson, chief propagator of the reptilian conspiracy David Icke might be using “reptilian” as a coded metaphor for the Jewish banking conspiracy. Icke himself seems pretty clear that he means literal twelve foot tall lizard people though.

As fun as it might be to speculate about the mental state of folks who spread this kind of belief, there are other possibilities as well. So now that Occam’s Razor is out of the way, let’s look at some juicier possibilities.

Possibility 2: It’s really Aliens

In his 1976 book The Sirius Mystery, Robert G. Temple speculates that the Dogon people from Mali had communication with “fish people” from the Sirius star system and that those aliens gave us human culture. It is pretty much accepted now that that was just bad anthropology and projection on his part, but that hasn’t stopped the believers from believing.

Digging around on the internet for actual primary source accounts of encounters with reptilians tends to yield a lot of sloppy, low quality “reporting” and cases of hypnotically recovered memories. The strongest case for the existence of the literal existence of these cold-blooded aliens seems to be comparative mythology, which some of us at 33 HQ think makes a stronger case that they are more metaphorical than literal.

In fact, here is some “proof” that David Icke is right, which basically says what we already talked about up there.

Possibility 3: It’s Angels (or Demons or extra-dimensional entities or whatever)

David Icke’s interest in the reptilians seems to have been sparked by his discovery of alleged MKULTRA mind control victim Arizona Wilder, who talked about encountering the reptilians in the context of occult ritual, under extreme psychological duress. According to this thread on a conspiracy forum, she has subsequently recanted.

Here is a story about someone following in the footsteps of 33rd parallel perennial favorite Aleister Crowley and contacting the intelligence known as Lam. It’s worth noting that he describes the uhhh… alien(?) as being “a very cold, mechanical kind of computer-like intelligence”.

Is it possible that these so-called alien intelligences are reaching out to us from an invisible dimension throughout collective imagination? Are they influencing our thoughts and evolution? If so, we might expect to find very little literal evidence, but the case could be made…

Is someone (or something) tinkering with our memory?

 

Screen Shot 2017-04-03 at 5.20.12 PMRemember the pralines!

If you’re like most people, you don’t think about memory much at all. If you were to think of memory you might think of it working like a computer. You have an experience. The experience gets encoded and uploaded into your brain. Later you can retrieve it, or it can come back to you automatically, like Proust traveling back in time when he smelled that praline.

The fact is that science doesn’t know exactly how memory works. There is even debate about how malleable it is. Memory seems to play a key role in developing and maintaining social relationships, which are, in turn, essential to maintaining mental and physical health. Memory can be distributed between couples, within families, and throughout a larger culture.  In fact, as that last link shows, memories can be altered through social contagion, like when your mom tells you that that story you’ve been telling about that weird thing you did that one summer vacation actually belongs to your sibling, or when a whole group misremembers something. One thing we do know is that memory is falsifiable to an alarming degree.

OK, 33rd, I imagine hearing you say, that’s funny and everything, but where is the conspiracy in this? Well, you, I answer, I’m glad you asked.

Remember the Berenstain Bears syndrome, later named the Mandela effect? And how it has been debunked? One of our favorite topics here at 33 HQ is The Plot to Disrupt the Collective Consciousness (by agency or agencies unknown). I’m going to make the case that you, dear citizen, have been Operation Mindfucked.

Do you remember thinking how weird the “What color is the dress?” debate was? Like why is this even a thing? And then there was the popularization of the term “gaslighting“. But, you continue, dafuq do gaslighting, memory falsification, the Mandela effect and the color of that tacky ass dress have to do with each other?

Apophenia, Engage!

Gaslighting is a form of manipulation that seeks to sow seeds of doubt in a targeted individual or members of a group, hoping to make targets question their own memory, perception, and sanity. Using persistent denial, misdirection, contradiction, and lying, it attempts to destabilize the target and delegitimize the target’s belief.”
-Wikipedia
April 3, 2017

Around the water cooler in the 33 P office suite, we had long speculated on what possible benefit undermining people’s confidence in their own judgment might have if we were a sinister organization concerned only with power for power’s sake. And then, while researching the occult roots of Scientology we turned up this paper by the Godfather of hypnosis (and primary progenitor of NLP), Milton H. Erickson, MD.

In case you can’t be bothered to click on the links, I’ll paste the most relevant bit below, but first I am going to berate you for taking our word for anything. You should definitely realize that we are recklessly irresponsible in our storytelling and probably just a tad bit paranoid as hell. Still, suit yourself. Here is what the good doctor said about his famous confusion technique:

“In essence, it is no more than a presentation of a whole series of individually differing, contradictory suggestions, apparently all at variance with each other, differently directed, and requiring a constant shift in orientation by the subject…one may systematically build up a state of confusion …, until a retreat from the confusion by a complete acceptance of the suggestions of the moment becomes a greatly desired goal.”

It’s worth noting that the word here is “suggestions”, not “commands”. When they just tell us what to do, it’s easy for us to say some variation of “No, fuck off,” depending on the power dynamic. I might have more success if I was less direct and you were less wary. For example, if I were to tell you “buy a Coke,” you might agree, but if you disagree I am stuck with a power struggle and most likely no sale. I’ll have a better chance of selling you something if I say “would you prefer a Coke or a Pepsi?” in which case the suggestion is that you would like something to drink and that you will prefer one of the options over the other. Oversimplification is radically oversimplified but illustrative.

The Conspiracy

So here’s the conclusion we’ve come up with, based on pure paranoid guess work:

There is at least one invisible power which launched a concerted memetic attack on the collective consciousness of the English-speaking world, in order to radically disrupt culture and replace it with a more (unconsciously) obedient one.

Towards what ends, we can only speculate…

More on false memories in the pod.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Jackson Pollock Mind Control Conspiracy

 

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As always with this stuff, it’s a good idea to bear in mind the credibility of the source, which, since this is coming to you hot from 33 HQ, is pretty questionable. That being said, a couple of pieces of information have come to our attention which we speculate about on the new 33 P podcast.

Here we’re just going to lay out the “facts” and let you be the judge.

Jackson Pollock was one of the most influential artists of the twentieth century. That his drip paintings had a huge impact on the art world is undeniable. Pollock’s splatter paintings show a unique fractal geometry, even though Fractals were first named in 1975, nearly two decades after Pollock’s untimely death in 1956.

At the height of the cold war between the United States and Russia, the CIA covertly promoted abstract impressionism, and Pollock in particular, as representative of the American ideals of freedom and self-expression, a jab aimed at psychologically destabilizing the repressive Soviet regime.  So the story goes.

It’s well known that the CIA conducted experiments on the American civilian population and developed a variety of subtle and/or hideous techniques for gaining and maintaining compliance in individuals and populations.

It is our assertion that the CIA was well ahead of the curve in terms of applied psychological manipulation and that they may have been aware of some of the effects that the art work they were unleashing on an unsuspecting populace. It is clear that the effect of the emergence of the abstract impressionist movement was disruptive to the art market. Is it possible that they were aware of a subliminal influence in Pollock’s art, and that they were out to destabilize more than just the art market and the Soviet State?

Sure. Anything is possible…on the 33rd Parallel.

Click the catch copy below for the podcast.