Luke’s Eureka: Trump & Heath, UFO Swamp Gas, Cultural Infiltrations & Parental Betrayals

Seems like I am overdue for a new blog post, so here comes something.

Things that have been causing my radar to beep this past month.

Claims that Trump is clamping down on sex abuse industry. For example this, which has been doing the rounds lately and which I saw even showed up at Zero Hedge:

I haven’t taken the time to verify this information, but it seems credible enough. Not because I believe Trump is the reincarnation of the Aryan Jesus, but because it seems like it could be consistent with sending a message that there’s a New Sheriff in town–by shaking the bushes and going after sex trafficking/child porn rings embedded at the highest levels of corporate power. When a new drug lord takes over the market, the first thing to do is strike some warning blows against the competition to make sure they keep on the right side of the line. (It also brings to mind how Hitler went after occult fraternities when he took power.)

Even so, all the hysterics about Trump’s fascist policies would seem to be a case of seeing only what people expect–are ideologically fired up–to perceive. Surely anyone who’s paying any attention knows that fascist policies have been de rigueur for the US since– I dunno–George Washington?! And that any illusion to the contrary is just a luxury of happening to live inside the US, rather than somewhere on the wrong side of the thin red, white, and blue line, or even on the receiving end of its foreign policy. In other words, isn’t Trump just a case of the chickens (or frogs) coming home to roost?

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Another thing that’s been sort of zinging on my radar in a slightly annoying, slightly amusing fashion (mostly due to Tom Mellett’s many updates) is Peter Levenda’s exponentially ascending profile as the “straight man” to Tom de Longe’s ridiculously inflated, dog-eared UFO disclosure/inside (dis)info campaign via the Sekret (“cool” reddit culture sp.) Machines franchise. Besides a brief mention in my afterword to the up-and-coming book version of Prisoner of Infinity, I am not sure this TdL/PL/S&M warmed-over UFO horse-corpse-flogging affair is really worth much blog-space; except that, apparently people are buying stocks in the high-cheese industry, so either there’s some element of novelty I have missed, or I have overestimated the power of public discernment once again.

From what I can see, the whole thing is one more case of the Cultural Infiltrators Anonymous, complete with fake book sale figures and paid actors lining up for their cup of alien DNA or sprouting mushrooms in the dead-horse-manure pile. Now that I think about it, the trick is probably pretty simple: team up a lukewarm, middle of the road pop star with an “edgy” quasi-scholarly conspiracy author, make some outré and wholly un-substantiable claims about deep-inside information, et voila, a whole newly minted audience cult of hungry hopefuls predisposed to buy your product in both senses of the word, i.e., already invested in the deLonge industry and its many myriad tie-in products, and suitably virginal when it comes to what’s really new, interesting, or credible in the UFO field. To these culturally-infiltrated kule-kids, Peter Levenda probably seems like a real Gandalf kind of guy.

Remember These Guys?

(Note how the book-ended MIBs (de Longe & unidentified) have ghostly females whispering in their earsss.)

As for what’s in it for Levenda, I have speculated about this on Twitter and elsewhere. My guess is it’s the continuation of an ancient assignation, combined with throwing an old intell. dog a few bones for committing professional suicide in the line of duty. Maybe this is part of the deal for a smidgeon of literary success: they establish your reputation because it will prove useful later  on for promoting some really disreputable ideas. The question then arises, how long does a reputation last, once the snake oil comes out? Maybe PL’s consolation is that he gets to have “clout” among @tomdelonge groupies? I really don’t know. But something sure doesn’t sit right about any of this. (PL was just on Strieber’s Dreamland, and though I haven’t listened yet I notice the focus on The Lovecraft Code, not on Tom deLonge’s Final Truth about the Alien Question. It’s hard to see how Strieber could wholeheartedly endorse the latter, since it tramples so rudely onto Whitley’s staked country of unknowns. But then, I have never been convinced by Strieber and Levenda’s unholy alliance: it seems like a marriage of convenience in which neither party is especially enamored.

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Meanwhile in the UK, who has time for UFOria or getting apoplectic about The Donald’s social gaffes when high-level kiddie-fiddling is becoming like institutional wallpaper, the thing no one wants to talk about but that you can’t get away from except by keeping your eyes shut and groping your way out the room? Trump said he liked to grab women by the pussy.  Shocking, right? And Ted Heath was the Prime Minister of England for four years and now there’s a police investigation to determine if over thirty victim testimonies are accurate in charging him with child rape, possibly torture, murder, and ritual abuse. Over thirty! (Guardian link.)

“supporters of the late Tory leader have dismissed the investigation as a ‘witch-hunt,’ insisting that Sir Edward did not have the opportunity or inclination to abuse children.”

Oh well; in that case . . .

Before I continue, this is as good a time as any to correct an error I made in Seen and Not Seen when I wrote this:

One of the figures Icke named a decade or more ago was Jimmy Savile, who, it recently came to light, was behaving in ways more easily associated with a Vampire or alien predator than the harmless talk show host we took him to be when I was growing up.

Apparently the part about Icke’s prescience is not accurate, and despite this claim being made in the respectable British press (e.g., The Independent), Icke did not once name Savile publicly as a child rapist until after Savile was exposed (see here). He merely made claims to this effect, and these claims were believed because they seemed consistent with Icke’s output. Icke apparently did name Ted Heath, however, in more than one of his books, and even told a story a long time back about meeting Heath in a dressing room and seeing Heath’s eyes turn black. (I thought I remembered seeing footage of Icke confronting Heath in his apartment and accusing him of being a Reptilian; apparently it was someone else, however, as I can’t find anything about this online. If anyone remembers who Icke confronted, and when, let me know.)

To counter the as-yet unconfirmed allegations of over thirty Heath-victims, we have:

“One of the former prime minister’s former armed protection officers [who] previously dismissed the idea that Sir Edward could have abused youngsters because he was watched around the clock by police. The allegations were also said to be ludicrous because Sir Edward did not have a car and used a driver to get to wherever he went.”

Right. Case closed there then. But wait:

“The source said: ‘What stands out is that the people giving these accounts are not connected but the stories and the details dovetail. It contains disturbing stuff. Investigators have been shocked by what they have learned.’”

And then of course, on the other other hand, Rachel (formerly Richard) Hoskins, a transgender wo-man (he transitioned in 2016) is the expert witness for the defense:

“Hoskins was asked by detectives of Wiltshire Police to examine claims made by ‘Lucy X’ of a VIP satanic sex-abuse ring which included the former Prime Minister Sir Edward Heath, as part of two separate investigations by the force into sexual abuse. Fearing that she may be removed from the police database of experts as a result of her revelations, Hoskins nevertheless told The Mail on Sunday that:

‘I have established that the allegations against at least some of the people caught up in Operations Conifer and Midland are based on no more that two uncorroborated witnesses, whose claims of satanic abuse were made under the influence of controversial psychotherapists specialising in “recovered memories.” At least one of these witnesses was under the influence of hypnosis. I am profoundly disturbed. In 15 years of working as an independent police expert, I have never seen anything like it. …  I have exposed a catalogue of fabrication at the heart of two major inquiries. Worse still, Operation Conifer ploughs ahead. People remain accused of things that simply never happened. Wiltshire Police insist that not all their evidence is based on claims of ritual abuse. We will see. But those cases that are based on this pernicious fallacy must be closed immediately. Did it really take an expert on rituals to tell them that the likelihood of a child being ritually sacrificed in broad daylight in Wiltshire was worthy of closer scrutiny?’”

In case we are left with any lingering doubts: “Mr Cracknell, who worked at Sir Edward’s home, Arundells, in Salisbury between 1985 and 1990, said the long-running police investigation into claims he was a  paedophile who took part in satanic abuse was ‘ludicrous.’”

There’s the trusty L-word again! Where would we be without it?

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Part of the reason for my lack of blogging is that I’ve been unusually ensconced in research for my next book, The Vice of Kings. This is by far the darkest thing I have ever attempted to write, and the more I immerse myself in this material, the more disorienting and destabilizing it is. It is very hard to reconcile the awareness of this darkness with the ordinary, everyday perceptions and beliefs held by most people about our world, and I keep coming back to the idea that it’s all a hoax of some sort. Admittedly it would have to be a very high-level hoax. But if someone like Aldous Huxley or Bertrand Russell (or Aleister Crowley) can propagate the most appalling scenarios under the guise of cautionary teachings and/or joke/fiction, all with deeply humanitarian intentions–if someone as seemingly beyond reproach as Carl Gustav Jung can be directly tied to Allan Dulles, MKULTRA, & the Tavistock Institute, where does this leave us? Surely not trusting people like David Icke and Alex Jones to tell us what’s what?

So then the mind, being the mind, starts to wonder, what if these high levels of social control, psychological wisdom, and cultural influence only want us to believe they are committing unspeakably atrocious acts, for whatever reason . . . ? As a proposition, this doesn’t make much sense; but when the alternative is that just about everyone you ever respected in the public realm is complicit with unimaginable crimes against children (including, for me, members of my own family), it is tempting to propose, or at least entertain, something that is absurd but not entirely impossible, and that at least less is not unremittingly bleak.

The other sort of inescapable, almost-unthinkable thought is: how bad can these kinds of acts be, if everyone who is anyone is doing them, or at least complicit with them? What becomes of our criteria for judging right and wrong, when all the authorities we have trusted to teach us the difference are manifestly not trustworthy?

We are surfing on cognitive quicksand. Getting to the bottom of this collective human swamp is what I hope to achieve; but if I am genuinely getting closer to that, then reaching the bottom seems to equate with realizing there’s no way to know:  a) what is real and what is fictionalized; b) what is somehow ethically justified, and what is just plain vicious, homicidal behavior.

If our Kings–our parents, caregivers, teachers and guides–are practicing the most appalling vices, are they still vices? If the people, teachings, institutions, and values that have established in our awareness the difference between right and wrong, if they have no respect for the same moral criteria by which we would judge them for their betrayal, where does this leave us?

It is Luke’s black eureka: the very thing that drives us to confront the dark side is the darkness that already exists within us. When we find it, we find the truth of ourselves. The final blow lands on the surface of a mirror, and there is nothing but us behind it.