Giants and UFOs and Disclosure, Oh My.

If you don't listen to or read David Wilcock at least check out his latest video (2 hours) about giants, UFOs and impending Disclosure. It's worth the time.



David got a few things wrong. Baal was a god worshiped in Mesopotamia and in Carthage. The Romans campaigned against Carthage to destroy it utterly because they wanted to stamp out the baby burning worship of Baal. Hannibal was from Carthage and crossed the Alps on elephants when he invaded the Romans. Maybe that is where David got them mixed up. Pluto was the Roman god of the underworld and Hades was the Greek version, and the Romans adopted (or stole) many of their gods from Greece, including the entire pantheon. Since it is becoming more evident that the gods were Giants earthlings believed were gods (who wouldn't when confronted with a being landing on the planet from the stars and standing 36 or more feet tall?), then the Romans adopted the Greeks' gods and renamed them or the Greek gods adopted the Romans after they defeated the Greeks and adopted Greek philosophy and civilization since they had none of their own -- yet. Sure does make the history I was taught and the history I came to believe in very different and always interesting.

My first glimpse of a very different history was through Zecharia Sitchin. Everyone told me what I spouted from Sitchin was alternative archaeology and history and handed me a copy of Motel of the Mysteries where future archaeologists unearthed a 20th century motel and proclaimed a new history based on the findings in that hotel, much the same way that archaeologist since the 19th century have extrapolated their version of history from a few shards of pottery and their vivid imaginations. I had read through many archaeology books, histories, and newspaper and journal articles and none of them struck me the way Sitchin's books did. Yes, I did fall under the spell of Erich von Daniken and I believed. Daniken was demonized and caught out after manufacturing proof for his extraterrestrial astronaut theories. That didn't make him wrong, just unpopular with the Powers That Be (and now Were) that wanted the truth hidden, going to the trouble of manufacturing evidence, faking records of criminal activities, and destroying careers of archaeologists that would not fall in with the party line that there are no ETs and never have been -- in spite of the physical evidence and carbon-14 dating that proved otherwise. The PTB have been busy for a very long time debunking the truth and black balling adherents of the truth, since the 1860s when men paid by the Smithsonian Institute, newly created by the Smithsons of England and in the Royal line, went about the world, and the USA, picking up artifacts and remains and dumping them in the Atlantic Ocean or hiding them in the catacombs beneath the Smithsonian in Washington, D.C.

I believed Sitchin so much I contact him when I still lived in Ohio and we spoke on the phone and corresponded during those years. I've been since informed by David Wilcock and Corey Goode by way of Corey's contact in the Breakaway Civilizations in Hollow Earth that Sitchin's tale was manufactured by the PTB and that he bought it hook, line, and sinker. So did I. So many lies, so much disinformation to hide what has always been in plain sight -- that the megalithic ruins found in every continent on this planet were built long before the peoples that found them and took up residence who were called their builders, which never explained to me why later versions of the pyramids were so poorly constructed and out of inferior materials. They found the technology and ruins and tried to replicate them, but didn't have the skills. What we see are their attempts at reproducing what they found, not what they engineered.

Then there is the Christian Bible and the Jewish Torah and their edited (my word) version of how the world began and the God that was really a combination of many gods, and a specific group of gods that wanted to be worshiped above all other group of gods -- or god. I haven't believed that version since I was 6 or 7 and my skepticism has grown stronger over the decades between then and now. I am not so easily gulled into believing any old thing and I never believed man has been on this planet for only 6000 years or that Eve is the reason for man's fall from Eden. I know a smear job when I see one and the story of Adam and Eve many people believe is a centuries-old smear job that always felt false to me. I'm still unsure about a lot of things, but not about that.

At any rate, even as a small child I knew the world was far different and more marvelous than at first it seemed. I am coming to believe that all the science fiction and fantasy stem from badly remembered dreams, misunderstood messages, channeling, and intuition, or direct connection with the past and the future that appear as dreams or messages. People who are schizophrenics, once revered as a conduit to God or the gods, are those who have always had the ability to pierce the veil between what we see and what reality is truly like, and medicated for the same reason that the indigenous peoples have been hounded, massacred, and marginalized by the white European races -- the ordinary person can't handle the truth. I, as one of those ordinary people, am here to tell you we see the truth and we will not give up without a fight. Medicate us, throw us in jail, discredit us, manipulate our minds, threaten and reward us when we get off the path, but we will not be completely silence or shut down. Time is running out and more and more of us are waking up to call foul and cut the rug out from under the Powers That Were until the truth that has always been out here is revealed for all to see.

What people do once they know the truth is up to them. All people like me can do is put it out there. The rest is up to you.

That is all. Disperse.

White Cat Solar System

Bleary-eyed, I sat on the commode looking out the bathroom window. There was once a screen in the window but the landlord removed it four years ago when I toilet had to be replaced. The screen sits on the porch repelling mosquitoes, moths, and insects, ground-based and with wings, from a spot on the corner near the old gas, electric, and water meters and I have a clear view into the parking lot that encompasses two-thirds of my cottage.

Into this predawn world strolled a white cat and I perked up immediately as I always do when an animal is nearby. I patted the window sill and called to her (it must have been a female with her aloof and silent manner). She cocked her head at me and took a couple of tentative steps. I called again, "Here, kitty, kitty," and patted the window sill. She looked serenely about her and gracefully padded closer, stopping every few steps to glance about and take the lay of the land.

As she came closer, her left eye glowed a brilliant amber and I held my breath. She was lovely with white fur so perfect and clean. I wanted to hold her on my lap and hear her purr as I stroked and caressed her. She moved closer and the gold of her left eye was nearly eclipsed by the brilliance of her right eye, which seemed at a distance to be blue, the purest crystal blue of a South Pacific island lagoon. She moved closer, each step a lithe dance of springtime and youth and slender trees swaying in a soft breeze. Yes, the right eye was blue, but the left eye was like ancient amber, brilliant warm gold.

She came to the edge of the planter box on the side of the house beneath the bathroom window and no further, pausing with tilted head and artful glance before strolling off along the planter to disappear around the corner of the cottage.

At that moment when I saw this glorious little white cat, I smiled and have smiled randomly throughout the day as summer made its presence known. Her cool glance is all the respite I shall have today since the clouds that have come and gone for the past two months have gone, leaving behind gossamer cirrus clouds wafting along in the Colorado blue sky.

I retreated to my bedroom where I cross stitched while watching and listening to travels among the planets to the farthest reaches of the solar system. The marvels above are as beautiful and distant as the white cat this morning and provoke as many smiles as sighs.

To see the pitted iron ball of Mercury molten in the face of the sun and frozen when it turns away its face is stirring. Venus with its corrosive clouds of acids and volcanic landscape is as mysterious as Mars and its red face and volcanoes towering above  even the most devastating sand storm. Jupiter's red spot tantalizes as it swirls around the planet, a storm that would engulf the Earth, but the moons are spectacular and strange. Io's geysers and volcanic eruptions change the landscape every day while Europa sleeps beneath a watery ice covering that hides the possibility of life. Ganymede generates it's own magnetic field and Callisto sleeps in ancient dream beneath a pitted surface of meteor strikes and sleeping volcanoes that may never rouse again.

Saturn's rings are the remains of dozens of moons while the rest dodge collisions among the numerous rings of ice and rock shepherded by smaller moons. Among the rings of Uranus the moons have an easier go and with the incomplete rings standing above the planet. Miranda may have been smashed and reformed like a jigsaw puzzle, but the moons of Ariel, Umbriel, and Oberon keep company with the shepherd moons of Cordelia and Ophelia that keep a swarm of eight smaller moons from crashing into or increasing the size of Uranus's ten rings.

Neptune, watery Neptune, far from the sun and more beautiful that the sea. Neptune has waked from its icy sleep long enough to capture Triton, a moon so cold it freezes a thought before it's born, but Triton still has its way since it circles Neptune retrograde, moving closer and closer as gravity pulls it in for a final kiss that in billions of years will spin Triton's remains into another ring of debris and ice. Nereid, Proteus, and the remaining moons keep close to Neptune's side, mere shadows in orbit.

Beyond where Neptune holds sway as the guardian of the inner planets lurks Pluto, once a planet and now deemed lesser than its companions in spite of capturing its own move with the force of its embrace. Charon circles Pluto in a close dance, but not until Voyager went by was it possible to see that this downgraded planet has four more chaperons in its journey through the universe: Nix, Styx, Hydra, and Kerberos.

As much as we see and think we know, there is always more to learn, more to see, more to experience. Satellites and orbiting satellites show us so much of our neighbors and the vastness of the universe, but how can ignore the yearning to see with our own eyes the wonders before and around us?

Like the white cat with her mesmerizing eyes of blue and green I enticed closer this morning, I long to push out among the stars and planets and moons and touch the face of the Universe. I may not hold it on my lap or caress it while it purrs, but I can get close enough to see the bright spots of possibility among the black void in between.

NOTE:  The photo is called White cat on a cushion is by Rebecca Korpita