9/11, An Old Swami, And Van Helsing 2020

Neem Karoli Baba had already left his body on 11 SEP 1973.  He was ageless, that is, of truly indeterminate age, as already very old devotees told of knowing him as he now appeared even back when they were themselves children.  They called him Maharaj-ji because it means "great king" yet every idiot in India might be so addressed on the street, in any shop or marketplace.  He always said he was "nobody".  He was that - and one of the most beloved and sought after of India's contemporary saints.  He was the embodiment of Hanuman.

This is not a pitch for him or for Hanuman.  These are entirely matters of my own personal devotion.  Hanuman is the embodiment of love and the miracles surrounding that love - as miracles regularly surrounded this precious Being who insisted that he was "doing absolutely nothing, Hanuman is doing it all", or just "God's doing it, it is all in His hands".

I was never in India, I'd received all that I knew from those who had personally and often been with him there. I was in Boulder Colorado.  Maharaj-ji - strict about truth and morals, tradition and respect, yet himself completely lax toward ritual, kept telling his Western (hippie) devotees, when he wasn't constantly joking with them and pushing their buttons:  "Be more like Christ", or "Meditate like Christ"... and had them all scrambling to find a Bible so they could reacquaint themselves with what they'd come in the first place thinking they were "exchanging" for "something better" at his feet.  As either Ram Dass or Krishna Das (either one of Jewish background, like myself) had beautifully phrased it:  "We'd left Christianity in the West, only to find Christ again at the foot of the HImalayas, at the feet of an old Swami."

Hanuman, in the Ramayana of Indian lore, fought and defeated the demon host, burned their city-fortress to the ground. He wiped the floor with them.

Christ cast out demons.

I was awakened out of a kind of cynical direction, there in Boulder as a college freshman in September of 1973.  In that month and following, I'd come into contact with both Maharaj-ji and Jesus Christ - remarking the timing of all this only decades later - merely by taking the material in hand and acquainting myself with it all.  Because the time was ripe.  I fell in love.  With Maharaj-ji, and with Christ.  And now it is 2019.

Some reading this would surely say, it contradicts itself, they may feel confronted.  Maharaj-ji was full of contradictions for those around him.  Christ was full of contradictions for those around Him.  Donald Trump is full of contradictions for those around him.  But I'm coming to that. ...

Because this is not a pitch for Maharaj-ji or for Hanuman or for Jesus Christ.  As you will find out, it is a pitch for Trump.

A crucial aspect in this was in October of that same year, through a set of circumstances no one reading this would believe - and about which I've told a total of two persons in my life since - and so it will remain, according to my promise to him my friend, back then.  I was 18 and already since January on a quest to uncover for myself matters concerning the Unseen and the "Afterlife" - and was just concluding my study of this with satisfying results.  And now, having come to acquaint myself with Neem Karoli Baba (Maharaj-ji) and with the Christian Gospels, I was more open than I'd ever been since about the age of five.

Now on a certain evening I'd just recieved a mysterious two page letter on my dormatory room door warning me of the reality - and realities - of satanism (with which I'd flirted briefly, privately, amateurishly in the first part of that year, and had dropped as it was "not my path"), a letter which no one in my close clique of seekers and pranksters here'd had anything to do with - nor were to be informed whatsoever of its content.  I was to only - and immediately - seek out my chum at his dorm, who according to the letter was in fact "an ally".  I was to tell him but one or two pointers within the letter and leave it at that.  I did so, and on just that evening - neither prior nor since - I got to know this dear friend on an entirely unexpected level, such as one would have entered a parallel universe for a few hours and returned with everything appearing unchanged.  The topic was never to be touched again, that was the agreement.  As I'd followed the instructions in the letter, likewise did I keep our trust thereafter.  And valued it aove all else, and the friendship which evidently transcended dimensions.

I will only say this much - as no one would believe it anyway, apart from my assurance not to go casting pearls before swine - and let this suffice:  The two anecdotes directly concerned him personally, his direct confrontation with real occult satanic powers, and the power and authority of the Name of Christ in defeating these on the spot - to the desperate dismay of those practicing these dark arts, total Meltdown.  And it was not for me to contradict him on any point, as I was instructed to hear him out and to receive exactly what he was telling me.  What is finally relevant in all this, is that it convinced me in my life, of the two things I'd been seeking to know:

1. There is indeed true evil, which one can only call satanic.  It is most recognizable, as I've often written here, by its sheer intent to destroy and suck the life out of all Beauty and Innocence.
2. Christ is real, Christ is real, Christ is real.  And the ultimate power and authority.

Now let's cut to the chase:
Many from those days, and later years where my circles were full with devotion, being devotees or students, receiving teachings, integrating them, applying them - many of those (otherwise) like myself from these circles, whom I still cherish, would still be voting Hillary today, or Bernie Sanders.  Almost with a certainty not Donald Trump.  This is where I have once again become that "contradiction" for so many loved ones in my life.

I am very much concerned with nailing true evil of a satanic nature, an evil with the sheer intent of destroying and sucking the life out of all Beauty and Innocence.  I have been so, as far back as I can remember - and concerned regarding where the highest, true power comes from to defeat this, how to call upon it, to serve that.

Friends, the shake-up everyone got on 11 SEP 2001 is now peanuts compared to the shake-up coming around 11 SEP 2019 and thereafter.  Those who have been following the leads all along, those like myself who'd only begun "getting it" around 2010 and have since gathered more and more steam, those of us who are in full-speed mode, who are following Q-Anon and other alternative sources, who have weathered being called "conspiracy theorists" and worse - those of us all will be vindicated and confirmed:  in exposing, or seeing exposed, all those satanic entities who really have been behind this all along, and behind much, much else.  Those who have taken their side and still do - are in for a very, very painful awakening, if not complete Meltdown.  However vast this is - and it is an evil so vast, so immense, it defies one's worst imagination, it can only be addressed in brief terms by metaphor - just so enormous will be that Meltdown.  Watch for it.  Yogi Bhajan, another great mentor in my life since the '70s, had pointedly prepared us for it.

We are in 2019 - look at all that is coming to surface.  Look at the evil, the satanic networks and cabals, covens and orders, industries and icons, commerical and NGO, the government and royal fraternities and sororities of ritual sacrifice and worship of darkness, of raw dark power.

So I will close with this metaphoric yet seriously meant image, as my statement to 9/11/2019:

I know there is Dracula.  There really indeed is.  The question for me is, is there a Van Helsing?  The disease we know - is there a doctor in the house?

For me the definitive "Van Helsing" was Anthony Hopkins - he was raw, he stepped on others' sensitivities, he'd been around the block and he knew the dark forces at hand, he'd been eye to eye with them, he made no apologies and he left others to concern themselves with his contradictions.  And he was in his own element, effective - he got the job done, in the Name of Christ.  Is this sounding familiar?...

I know there is Dracula - psychic and physical ritual vampirism.  We have the lists to prove it, it is all coming to light, but - is there a Van Helsing?

If there were ever a Van Helsing now:  it is President Donald Trump.  Now, and in 2020.

Pray.  Van Helsing did.

My Precious Life

This life is precious, capiche?  My life is precious.  With all my shortcomings, my hesitations, my procrastinations, my depressions, my acute awareness of mistakes made and challenges still unmet.  My life is precious, it is full of more incarnations than I'd even know - yet one and singular, and here and now.  It is full of joy.

I love this life, all that I have not yet done or seen, or may never, or revisited - I love this life and where I am now, and with whom.  All that I love, and all whom I love, my partner and my son, the animals in our life, children, grandchildren - met and unmet - family, siblings and their families, all, all...all.  The co-workers in my life, the city I occupy, the people I train with evenings, the people I walk the streets with of an evening and hold public talks among.  All that I have ever experienced in my life, all ups or downs, all heights or depths, all glories and shame, I own and I recall.

All who are in my life, or have been in my life and therefore still are - I want them there - I would miss them were I to depart it.

But I will come now to the point, for this is not any kind of parting word toward any one, not a testimony, nor even any form of reminiscence to conjure a sigh or wipe a tear - nothing of the sort.

I will stake this very life, this precious life, on the premise - no, the certainty - that I am right.  If about nothing else since a long time, then this:  I was right to vote for The Donald, to vote for Trump.  I was right to see in him promises meant, and meant to be kept - to the best of his ability.  I was right to see in him the ability to push the envelope, to go where frankly no other President has ever gone.  I was right.  And I remain so.

I will stake my life on it.

When I consider the incomprehensible vastness, extent, enormity, of the pedophile network among the elite on down, of satanic cultism among the elite on down, of the real intent of globalists, of the real intent behind courting and laying out carpet for the Islamisation fo the West, of the incessant Deep State hold on power, on war-profiteering; when I consider the cruel irony of a world gone so Left as to embrace Communism and gaslighting its way deeper and deeper into the darkness, or the sheer harrowing lunacy of what passes for "political office" - or what passes for "journalism", or what passes for "academia" - in Europe, in Germany, in all of the Trump-hating, Trump-bashing venues, here and Stateside, one could name - when I consider all this:

I know I am right.  And when I go deep into my spirit, and repose in God, knowing it was His guidance which moved me not to abstain, but to cast my vote and to keep it there, I'd stake my life on it.

Come what may - though we are beset with unspeakable evils being pawned off as "relative norms", or as misinterpreted, or as more enriching, more colorful, more opulent, more preferable, more diverse, more interesting, more feeling, more open - there is a swamp, a great and terrible swamp, which in our own day will be swept through and cleaned out, for there is a river.

What Trump has in store, is as underestimated by his adversaries as is the force behind the groundswell which launched him to Office.  It was not his ego, that was just one of the conditions for his being the one whose time has come to take the reins.  Under these conditions it could not have been less than this.  And he needs our prayers.  Because he is there for us.  For America and for the West.  Those planning European extinction here are but themselves destined for it, those working assiduously on Germany's extinction will but themselves wind up the panicked carcasses left in the frozen mud and slime of their own ice age, whipped by the coldness of their own brittle hearts - they underestimate the intention brewing in the White House, forged in the Oval.  Globalism will fall by its own feet of clay, its gold and silver and bronze will shatter beneath those very feet.  The EU will be as an unwieldy house, topheavy and built on sand, sinking into its own stinking mire.  And nations will rebuild and heal, to reaffirm their sovereignties in a community of mutual regard and compatible trade.

Right - maybe it'll fly, maybe it won't, maybe...maybe it's not worth fighting for, worth taking to the streets for, speaking out for, writing for, being frustrated over, seeing people divided over or distancing themselves over - maybe it's too much for Trump to move it, maybe it's too much to expect of the conservative movements and parties in EUrope to assert themselves, overcome their caution and push that envelope, maybe not.

But I know that I did something right when I put my pen to that ballot with a firm conviction, and would do it again if given that proverbial chance.  I'd stake my life on it.

This precious life.

On Being "Special" - Or Just Being Divine

If everyone is "special" then the word has entirely lost any meaning whatsoever. Whoever is special is anyway a matter of who's saying it of whom, thus subjective evaluation - and valid so far as that goes. If the word is applied to everyone (barring, naturally, deplorable Trump voters) as a matter of course, influenced by the politically correct "virtue-triggering" collective narcissism bordering on psychosis – and the SJW/LGBT/gendermainstream lobbying, bullying, terrorizing – then I have a bit of bad news for those social-atheists and pseudo-pastors and -clerics of their respective ethically compromised and theologically confused churches and congregations:

NO ONE is "special". And everyone is divine. Therein lies the Great, Sustaining Love, which never fails and never bullshits, betrays, or leaves you in the lurch.

Having said that, I do adhere to the "Van Helsing School" of combatting and defeating the psychic vampires and actual (Deep State or Islamic State) Undead of our time – in defense of life, of conscious life on earth.



* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The "hidden" path of love in any tradition of faith, of devotion, of disicpline, lies in their respective mantras (the sacred Word bonding you in love, with your Infinity), if one has been shown them and how to apply them.

"God is your Lover, not your jailer."
– Rumi

Cherished

Back when my lad (now 20, and about whom I still say: "This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased...") was about 5 and I was putting him to bed, I had just finished reading an email from a fellow expatriate here. It contained a book review on something dealing with anecdotal material from witnesses to SS atrocities in Poland. A former villager told of seeing an SS guy strolling casually down the alley or street or road, whistling merrilly as he dangled a just still living and moaning infant on the tip of his bayonette, its last breath still audible to the witness. I sat stock still. I was, needless to say, so deeply upset at reading this, so traumatized because no matter how much material you take in – and I'd already imbibed a very, very great deal – it whacks you over that cliff of the most terrible distress, every time. Every time. So now I gotta put my laddy to bed. We sat in the near pitch dark room.  Rather than singing or playing, I was dead silent. Being a child, he sensed my sadness.

In his half-Doitch, half-English, he asked me what was wrong. Of course telling him anything like this was completely out of the question, but I had to be straight with him. I replied, "Well, hon', Papa is just very very sad right now." Asking me why, I replied again, "Sometimes there are others in the world, children, yes also children, who suffer or have suffered such things I cannot tell you, and your Papa is just too sad about it not to be sad." He wanted to comfort me.

So I did what actually wasn't our habit, but also not unheard of: I said, "Let's put our hands together here, you put yours together and then mine over yours, so... And Papa is going to pray, and this will be your little bed-time prayer, just yours." And I began, "My Beloved Lord and Cherisher, may all children everywhere be as loved, and as cherished, and as safe and secure as me."

In German there is no one word for cherish, except in cherishing an idea or a wish. To cherish a person is conveyed in a phrase, and my German idioms were less up to it at that time. While the sweet sound of our word, cherish, no doubt from the French cher, is to endear – we all know it conveys something more than words, notwithstanding a popular single on the charts back in the mid-'60s.

My little son asked me in his 5-year-old attempt at a new English word, "Was ist 'chewish'?"

I told him, "Well, you know what it is to love someone a whole lot, like how your Papa loves you, right? Cherish is something totally – lile you could never imagine livng without that one, ever. It's like....this:"

And I proceeded to give him pecks on the skin of his back, along the shoulders and between the shoulder blades, each kiss a dry and tender covenant of everlasting love toward my own child, each kiss a protection, a prayer for his well-being. After a few of these, I said, "Cherish is like...that. Okay? Now to bed with you."

We sat there a moment, in the dark – or I sat, he leaned over my arm some. And then he said, "Chewish me again."

And of course, I did.

I cherish him now as I ever have, and I will always have his back. 

Those Who Are Awake

There is a morning call to prayer in "The-Religion-Of-Peace" toward every Muslim,
and there is a mourning call to action for those who are awake concerning them.
For those who are awake are not the ones dividing humanity into "acceptable" or not,
but rather the supremacist assertions of Qur'an, Hadith, Sunna, Shari'a, and Jihad.
Those who are awake may counter absurd accusations with absurd reflections,
of "Islamophobic" with "Kafirophobic" or "Islamophile" - to gage the reactions.
But more important still, is undistracted attention on being awake, staying awake.
Even friends may leave, or at least stop visiting.  Pressure to stop, or to fake,
gentle, soft or solid pressure, social or official pressure, media's manipulations
reassure and reassure, contradictions stir, dumbing-down desired for elite's machinations.

Those who are awake owe themselves the honesty, the respect and sovereignty
to think and reflect, include or reject, independent of the stream of the majority.
They owe this to their spouses, partners, children, and what loved ones look to them
for the one sign of integrity in the grave and testing time ahead, not far, that time.
Those awake will learn to feed their wakefulness, strengthen nerves, straighten spines,
give time to prayer, defense and meditation, inform oneself and others, read the signs.
To stand reverently firm and say yes when yes is required, and no when it's no -
this is how those awake recognize and see, the objective compassion to know
where the Zeitgeist is heading and how to respond with courage and faith.
Those who are awake are indifferent to being jeered, cheered or falling from grace.

For only those awake know really what's at stake.

This Love In-forms Me

I will praise God in whatever form I choose,
in whichever tongue as I am moved,
I will praise God.

There is nothing exotic in it or strange,
this love informs me what to speak,
with what gesture or movement,
praising God.

At the core of all worship
is this love which informs me.
Embracing all Humankind
in this empathy, I submit
to the source of this love
which informs me.

Were Christianity's own Fountainhead
a raider who'd massacred and raped,
who'd deceived and beheaded,
whose vengeful, wrathful example in this manner
were glorified by multiple early biographers
setting the tone of what should be followed,
were he promoted as a despot unquestioned;

were his teachings and instructions in times
of weak numbers in direct contradiction
to those in times of greater force,
the end effect being conquest by the sword:
I'm afraid I'd quite have to distance myself
from both him and his example.

However, as he was and remains for all time,
rather the very embodiment of this love
which informs me, coursing through my every fiber,
uniting my blood with his, steeling my nerves,
filling my sinews with his might, my heart with awe:
how can I but love him?

The One in Whom we live and move and have our Being,
shows His countenance to me through just this,
this love which informs me.

And this one whose own form had lived at a distant time
in a distant place and has never left but is everywhere -
his love it is which so informs me, that I, with all my faults
and all my shortcomings, may inform others, bearing witness
merely by breathing with him, and being as I am.

His birth is my birth, his blood my blood, shed for me;
his death is mine, as is his resurrection, I own my faith,
and I call myself neither Jew nor Christian -
but one thing I do know:

After all my past training, however complete or not,
I am here with both feet walking, and cannot stop singing;
neither hopes nor fears rule me, nor the prescriptions of others
can tell me in what form or manner or tongue I should bend my knee,
only this love informing me, day and night, every breath and every step.

No zeitgeist may intimidate me, for this love is conscious,
steady and awake, present now, present regardless
of what darkness befalls, what ignorance, what evil moves
about us and over us.

It is all that I have, unborn and undying, a flame in my belly,
his soul is the light of the universe, and that suffices.
His mark is this love - I'll say it once more:
this love which informs me.

Dignity

Who cannot first acknowledge and respect with dignity and awareness
his/her own person, own ethnic roots or national sovereign identity,
cannot be qualified to honestly respect the same in any other –
but only dishonestly.

This holds true between individuals, and between communities,
between societies with respective national origins.

What we have now is not "overweening nationalism" as the problem –
but a fake "appreciation" of the other (who remains the other,
no matter how the hyper-racists of the Regressive-Left color it).

Hyper-racism is what one has when shrill "anti-racism" betrays
a bludgeoning dictatorship of ethno-masochism woven
into the minds of a nation. It’s fabric is self-demonization,
and is spun with most unkind hypocrisy.

No dignity left, no respect – only the twisted macabre parody of both,
criminalising free speech and holding language hostage to a
cultural Marxism.

Dignity comes from oneself, respect is its aroma.
Real being with others, and mutually sovereign interaction,
are the proving ground.

You cannot "love thy neighbour as thyself" when you loathe "thyself".
Forcing destabilisation of a continent of nations of multiple cultures
and one binding identity, via an artificial mass population switch
cobbled by neurotic sociopaths and a politically correct media elite –
exposes its own lie as "harbinger" of multi-culti "harmony".
It betrays a sado-maso cult of dominating totalitarian proportions,
long in the making and ever closer to realisation.

Being trained to focus outwardly and lose the inner compass,
one is too manipulated to think, to question this,
too cowed by its immense propaganda to confront it openly –
and evidently too indoctrinated to see through it to begin with.
Maybe.

Maybe the human will to own dignity and self-respect
and sovereignty of person may reawaken yet.
For no persons are "special" – and every Human Being
is divine in origin – conscious or not.

If You Are So Much As Reading This

If you are so much as reading this,
you are in my sights, whether I even know you
or not, the program is set:
I am loving you now, this and every other moment,
and I am praying for your health, happiness, well-Being -
day and night, that you may be fit to become Conscious,
that it may be well with you. That is my joy,
my simplest and most precious joy in action -
to keep this moving, and to just once let you in on it,
to receive it. It costs neither of us one lousy cent.
And is my joy. Unconditionally, mine.
If you are so much as reading this, you're in.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NY0o3iuddmk&feature=youtu.be

Do I know?

Do I know God, can I "prove" God exists?
It doesn't matter.
God knows me intimately
and has proven my existence,
and that's quite sufficient.
And His knowing me
courses through my body
and my consciousness 24/7
without my having to "think" about it.

These lines come to me in the shower;
they may as well have come while
driving from patient to patient,
or in the midst of any occupation,
or while napping.
During any drama or celebration,
or mourning or blues - there He is,
knowing me, informing my existence
with His.

The proof, if you will - is this love.
And just as I so love my own children -
He has my back.

Beware This Love!

In the center of my chest, in the core of my Being,
in the furnace of my belly, without effort, letting be:

I sense the love of my Father's spirit, my Source,
abon d'b'shmayim, eternal Father, take its course,

filling and fulfilling me, pushing forth, pouring out
into my atmosphere, subtle, onto all and about.

I get out of the way, remove myself, let it, and see...
let it pack and embrace the one standing before me.

Forbearing all, yet bearing nothing, it is the bear,
I but the bearer who carries and bares it openly there

where it chooses to express itself - this love I do not own,
this great and open secret, unspoken unseen sent down.

to manifest from one Human to another, from one created
Act of creation to another, this love may flow unabated.

One cannot make it so, fake it so, force it, but only surrender
to it when it calls, and witness to its quickening power.

Removing thought and theory, relaxing shadow-play of ego:
flowing from heart it greets, soothes, heals, because it's so.

Indiscriminate toward so much and many, taking all in its arms,
one would think its the nicest of loves, could do no one harm.

And this is true of course, yet it has quite other dimensions,
whose scope is fixed on those with foulest intention.

The intensity of love when directed at darkest forces ruling,
who rape and behead, burn and plunder in His Name and sing

praises of their deeds and examples they've taken -
shows itself as wrath upon these, they are entirely forsaken.

The wrath of God's love which shatters destructive egos must
be for those who know Him better not to fear but to trust.

All may receive this love, this moment.  Those who've earned this wrath now
will receive it tomorrow upon themselves and down to the marrow.

All is real, don't preach about illusions!  Regard what others are going through!
But all the more real, more real than all the chicanery, jihad mass murder accrued:

is this embracing love, and yes, love's wrath embracing those demonic entities.
Love doesn't reward but is its own; wrath however is the reward for wrathful jihadis.

Lovingkindness

When love is drawn from its totality and applied in action there is no longer an abstractness to philosophize about.  Even kindness alone finds its limitation in one’s own self-identification and its "demand" upon oneself or upon others to necessarily "show" that toward everyone.

Lovingkindness draws its impulse and its power from love, imbuing kindness with a release from self in the fuller expression of one’s true nature.

The source of that nature is love, and ever was love.  The source drives the force of action, and guides it all, as does Krishna the chariot of Arjuna on the battlefield.

If I acknowledge myself to be a mere drop of water, then it's a matter of course that I draw something from a river current which is constant, which has no beginning or end.  And that river has its source in the sea, in the ocean by whichever name – likewise, wending its way through life’s terrains, gathering and losing and being wet, returning to that sea or that ocean by whatever name.

So neither orthodox nor heretic, nor the zealous fundamentalist nor the atheist, need impress me in the least; for, it not being "about me" I can concern myself with the source, practice lovingkindness without "being right" or "expecting" tolerance from anyone at all.  It is one of the sincerest proofs of real independence, if it is anything.

Lovingkindness is not developing a head in the clouds but a head on your shoulders, with two eyes focused straight ahead on the living being right in front of you, and a full-bodied love pouring from the heart getting you wet and everyone in proximity to you.  Wet with light.  It doesn't "belong" to you, so you don't have to sweat "owning" it or "proving anything.  Even proximity is but as limited as your own imagination.

My beloved friend Joe Miller often said, "what is needed are three things: common sense, a sense of humor, and more common sense."

This in turn cultivates a real and authentic generosity.

Spending more time with that source, rather than eating up one's valuable time and energy over "being right" or "expecting kindness" or spouting "tolerance", would profit the very depth of anyone actively appreciating the precious opportunities one's own life has presented one without going out and looking for anything to "confirm" one's self-identity.

And one would find more confidence in prayer, if one cared to discover the value in that.

Lovingkindness is not collecting clothes or money, or dragging care packages all over - one may do that of course, it's alright.  When the Beloved Embodiment in my life, of relying on the source, first communicated to me in three simple instructions:  love everyone, serve (or feed) everyone, remember God - that "serving" meant being conscious toward all and that "feeding" meant nourishing.  Food and goods are but forms of nourishment.  Christ said there is water from which to drink, by which none shall ever after know thirst.  And that by immersing in the source, streams of living water will flow from your belly.

It is also lovingkindness to take a stand, to hold the unpopular position, to not shrink from battle when faced with the gravest challenge on the field of endeavor from the very forces who are not bringing with them any manner of lovingkindness.

It behoves one to probe what taking Human form is about.