I recently watched a documentary called Died Suddenly, which has been doing the rounds on the internet recently. It has been both widely disseminated and widely criticized. I found the film impactful: disturbing, apocalyptic, even moving, but also quite exciting, and hence a little questionable. Should something this horrific also be this entertaining? The images of people supposedly reacting to the mRNA jab, spinning around with their arm in the air and then falling down, in combination with footage of horrendous Cthulhu-like blood clots being removed from corpses, and the various embalmer and military whistleblower interviews, all adds up to an outstanding piece of conspiratainment. But is it true, and if so, shouldn’t such material be handled more soberly and carefully? The answer is some of it is true, but not all, and yes, it should.
Here are a couple of articles, both well-considered, both for and against. From Mark Crispin Miller (mostly for): https://markcrispinmiller.substack.com/p/died-suddenly-is-all-about-those
From Josh Guetzkow (mostly against): https://jackanapes.substack.com/p/died-suddenly-is-typical-trash-from (points out four areas of possible misinformation).
I suggest reading these before watching the documentary, if you haven’t already seen it. I definitely recommend watching the documentary, despite my misgivings, because much of the material deserves to be seen, and contemplated. Embracing the film too quickly is a mistake, but so is jumping onto the opposite bandwagon and decrying it as a psyop (the reasoning being that the film is a well-poisoner meant to discredit the truth and the truth-tellers in the film, by association.) What it clearly is an example of, at the very least & IMO, is sloppy reporting, premature conclusions, and counter-productive, if not self-sabotaging, presentation methods.
The film also makes several references to metaphysical evil, as the context for the evidence it presents. Fair enough, except that this underscores the dangers of “unearned wisdom,” or too much knowledge without the necessary psychological (or spiritual) preparation. The film seems designed to incite a kind of apocalyptic fervor, zeal, and outrage in the viewer, which leads to forms of action that are likewise counter-productive, if not self-sabotaging (such as hammering people online when their friends or relatives die, blaming the mRNA jab and making frenzied demands to check the bodies for blood clots).
If a lot of people are dying currently, I am starting to wonder why I am not hearing about it more directly, from the people I know? Admittedly, I don’t get around much these days, it is just us, the cats and chickens, and the occasional workman. But I still check my email and send out this newsletter, and as yet I have heard very little about sudden deaths. So, if you think you know people who have fallen victim to the mRNA gene-hack, please let me know, that way I can tally the score, and reality-check this apocalypse scenario.
Next up, for more counter-productive if not self-sabotaging presentation methods, there is Graham Hancock’s Ancient Apocalypse, the first episode of which I watched last night. I had heard that it was considered “dangerous” TV, but within 5 minutes I knew the only danger it presented was of permanently demolishing (whatever remained of) my interest in ancient artifacts and civilizations. I managed to make it through the whole half-hour (only because my wife is big on archaeology), and I came away thinking that there could hardly be a better way to discredit ancient artifact discoveries than to get Graham Hancock together with Netflix to present the evidence to us. Almost every last shot was dripping with Dan Brown-style histrionics: slow-motion shots of the intrepid explorer, ominous music rumbling and whooshing on the soundtrack, flash cuts and gliding overhead shots, CGI recreations of the “original” structures, completely unsupported by evidence, all of which ensured that the relentlessly pumped up medium-as-message totally drowned out any natural interest the subject matter might have had for me.
After suffering it none-too-silently, I skimmed the Guardian piece, titled and bylined, “Ancient Apocalypse is the most dangerous show on Netflix: A show with a truly preposterous theory is one of the streaming giant’s biggest hits – and it seems to exist solely for conspiracy theorists. Why has this been allowed?”
Is this the old one-two effect? Hit them with some over-cooked spicy entertainment propaganda, and then follow it with some “sober” (actually equally hysterical) “conscientious” (even more unconscionable) counterpropaganda, to validate the spice ~ like bland hot sauce with a picture of Satan that says “Devilishly Hot!”? Could anyone really seriously consider a tawdry little show like this dangerous? Well, maybe some woke retard at the Guardian who just got his third booster shot and feels deeply, personally threatened by the first whiff of “question the science” (the Guardian’s “argument” is simply that the show rests on the Conspiracy Theory that mainstream science is repressing the truth ~ ergo, is Dangerous). But I am more inclined to smell a rat than spy a woke-tard (not that it is either/or), and suspect the old good cop/bad cop routine, with usual-suspect Hancock* promising the juicy fruit, and the Guardian stepping in to forbid it, thereby making damn sure we consume it, all the more obsessively and guiltily. (* Entheogen-advocate Hancock has been on “the team” since at least 1990s, see Prisoner of Infinity p. 154. see also ISGP on Hancock)
Ironically, I have no trouble believing the premise of the show, or that of most of Hancock’s books (not that I have read any, besides Supernatural). But nor do I consider it especially interesting, without a suitably deep and dark context to render it relevant. How many decades have we heard about Atlantis/a prior civilization coming to ruin through misuse of technology? How many generations have grown up on this stuff (which may well be true, but that’s not the point), without it making a lick of difference to anything, besides steadily lowering the average man and woman’s levels of discernment? (A bit like UFOs.)
On the other end of the revelatory spectrum, I also saw this week a refreshing ~ and typically forgotten ~ documentary called El Sicario: Room 164. It is shot on one location (room 164), with one person, their face covered with a big black hood, and one prop (a sketch pad and a marker pen) to provide touchingly childish illustrations to an ex-Cartel member’s chilling account of life in the dark lane. I have uploaded it to my YT channel, see below. (It may be taken down since i do not have copyright, in case it does, you can DL it here.) As I tweeted, I watched three documentaries that (very rainy) day. The first was about a famous rock n’ roller (Levon Helm); the second was about a famous magician (the amazing Randy); the third was about a sicario with a price on his head. The sicario was the one who got the closest to God. At least one person found the tweet disturbing. But you have to see the film to understand that I was merely stating a fact (at least if El Sicario is a true account).
I hope to spend more time keeping up this newsletter, and providing more audio content, in the near future, and I am now offering “contributor” access for anyone who makes a donation of 5.55 euro or more (per month). To be honest, this is a very loose ship I run, so one donation might get you more than a month’s access, depending how regularly I update the contributor section. If you want a 6‑month or year’s access, officially, just make a donation to cover the period required.
I am just now finishing up The Kubrickon audio book (which will be available when the book is; you can pre-order Kubrickon now; full description + invite to reviewers/interviewers here). After that I will make an audio book for Vice of Kings, and then for Seen and Not Seen. I am also going to make my old audio book of Homo Serpiens available, since it is now selling for $80 online. First of all, I have to record a disclaimer!