{"id":96119,"date":"2013-12-04T17:14:52","date_gmt":"2013-12-04T17:14:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jonrappoport.wordpress.com\/?p=5067"},"modified":"2013-12-04T17:14:52","modified_gmt":"2013-12-04T17:14:52","slug":"the-magician-in-the-high-hills","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/rinf.com\/alt-news\/editorials\/the-magician-in-the-high-hills\/","title":{"rendered":"The magician in the high hills"},"content":{"rendered":"

The magician in the high hills<\/span><\/p>\n

The hunter at the end of day<\/span><\/p>\n

NSA Man<\/span><\/p>\n

-3 poems-<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

by Jon Rappoport<\/span><\/p>\n

December 4, 2013<\/span><\/p>\n

www.nomorefakenews.com<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Introduction<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

First, I give you two somewhat fanciful poems about sudden effects on the consensus called the space-time Continuum…the poems are meant to reflect the fact that the Continuum itself is exceedingly fanciful.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The so-called laws that govern it are provisional at best. Even experiments in the sterile conditions of laboratories reveal that humans can exceed statistical probability, when attempting telepathy and telekinesis.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But this is merely a pale clue that dynamic consciousness and existence operate beyond physical cause and effect and beyond material interactions.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The third poem, NSA Man, indicates the lockdown strategies taken to enforce the Continuum, to tighten it, to embroil the population in insane events designed to limit perception, to narrow it down to \u201ccrimes and possible crimes and pre-crime surveillance and invented crimes…\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

An extraordinary amount of human activity is calculated to create a society in which distractions are the Main Event, and therefore our hidden potential is buried, ignored, and forgotten. <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Hunter at the End of Day<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

slick string tie and dead rabbits over his shoulder<\/span><\/p>\n

rifle by his side<\/span><\/p>\n

diamond chips glittering in his fat pinky ring<\/span><\/p>\n

he took<\/span><\/p>\n

his time getting to the moon<\/span><\/p>\n

a mile from his cottage<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the layout of his body and mind<\/span><\/p>\n

was a temporary cartoon in the dark afternoon<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the sun and sky and forest were on loan from a local production company<\/span><\/p>\n

a renegade crew lurking to catch footage of the assassination of the president<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the colony was unstable<\/span><\/p>\n

construction workers were en route to repair the fractures in space and time <\/span><\/p>\n

the president had vowed to restore order<\/span><\/p>\n

but had failed<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and now the mining consortium had spotters and shooters in the gloom ready to go<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

as the hunter took a long step from the stage on to the moon itself he heard the dry whisper of limos moving across the white powder <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

he saw the first few black shapes rolling toward him<\/span><\/p>\n

and then the open car with limp flags<\/span><\/p>\n

and the president sitting in the back:<\/span><\/p>\n

a triangular block of non-reflective gray<\/span><\/p>\n

whose brain was percolating a hundred thousand miles away floating in space<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the rabbit hunter held up his hand and the caravan ground to a halt<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

there was no force to stop him<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

in the woods, under brush, the spotters and shooters fell into a paralytic state<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

everyone knew the judgment:<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the opening in space-time, the tearing of the fabric, the void behind it would be allowed to remain<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

there would be no repair<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the immortal had decided<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

it was the moment for permitting the illusion to disintegrate on its own<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

down on earth the press were gibbering about meteors and comets and asteroids, presenting their cover stories<\/span><\/p>\n

but this rip<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

would extend down in space all the way<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

all twenty billion minds on earth would rattle like dice<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and universe2 would emerge titanic<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the hunter grinned<\/span><\/p>\n

and hummed a tune<\/span><\/p>\n

he felt light on his feet<\/span><\/p>\n

and green as spring<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Magician in the High Hills<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the Tibetan sat in the high dirt at night<\/span><\/p>\n

and tossed his old books on the fire<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

his lessons were done<\/span><\/p>\n

he looked out at the black sky<\/span><\/p>\n

and removed a piece of it<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

he shrank it to a small cloth<\/span><\/p>\n

and held it in his hands<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the wind picked up<\/span><\/p>\n

he saw the vacuum begin to suck in torrential space<\/span><\/p>\n

and he stopped it<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

tossing the cloth into the air<\/span><\/p>\n

he saw it it fill out like a great and grateful sail<\/span><\/p>\n

and take its old place in the firmament<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

he stood up<\/span><\/p>\n

brushed off his pants<\/span><\/p>\n

and trudged toward the trading post <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

where men told stories about demons and mindless stalking creatures of the mountains and the new priests with their baggage<\/span><\/p>\n

setting up shop in the city<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

and their hundred thousand ceremonies designed to postpone the magic he adored<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

NSA Man<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

his wife doesn’t know it<\/span><\/p>\n

but at night<\/span><\/p>\n

when he tosses and turns in bed<\/span><\/p>\n

he’s having a wet dream:<\/span><\/p>\n

he’s been awarded an ocular implant<\/span><\/p>\n

and thereafter<\/span><\/p>\n

sees the world as naked<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

he sits in his office all day<\/span><\/p>\n

and watches<\/span><\/p>\n

the population <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

he has a burning desire to know<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cwho are all these people?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

what do they really want?<\/span><\/p>\n

are they <\/span><\/p>\n

like him<\/span><\/p>\n

a certain species of pornographer?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

does the answer lie in how they have sex?<\/span><\/p>\n

once will he see a man rummaging around in his kitchen at midnight<\/span><\/p>\n

suddenly walk through a wall?<\/span><\/p>\n

will an ordinary janitor in an empty office building<\/span><\/p>\n

shoot out the grin of an ancient predator?<\/span><\/p>\n

do these humans share a secret code they flash in ordinary movements?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

he wants to know before it’s too late<\/span><\/p>\n

before they give in <\/span><\/p>\n

before they surrender to him entirely<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

what happens when all human communication is swallowed up and interpreted within seconds<\/span><\/p>\n

for each moving second<\/span><\/p>\n

of every passing day<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

will the time come when there is nothing left to watch, when 20 billion people are so transparent one look is enough to penetrate them all?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

there is only one solution:<\/span><\/p>\n

generate, encourage, and stimulate enough crime<\/span><\/p>\n

to keep the pot boiling<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

to create an ever-rolling froth of secrets<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

upon which to spy<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Jon Rappoport<\/span><\/p>\n

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29<\/span>th<\/span><\/sup> District of California. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at <\/span>www.nomorefakenews.com<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Filed under: Uncategorized<\/a> \"\"<\/a> \"\"<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The magician in the high hills The hunter at the end of day NSA Man -3 poems-     by Jon Rappoport December 4, 2013 www.nomorefakenews.com   Introduction   First, I give you two somewhat fanciful poems about sudden effects on the consensus called the space-time Continuum…the poems are meant to reflect the fact that […]\"\"<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1225,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[461],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-96119","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-editorials"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/rinf.com\/alt-news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96119","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/rinf.com\/alt-news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/rinf.com\/alt-news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/rinf.com\/alt-news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1225"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/rinf.com\/alt-news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=96119"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/rinf.com\/alt-news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96119\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/rinf.com\/alt-news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=96119"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/rinf.com\/alt-news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=96119"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/rinf.com\/alt-news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=96119"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}