In 2021, shit just got real. So you say? Wrong. Shit has always been real, you were just too cov­ered in cheap per­fume to smell it—until now. So now you are “woke,” now you can smell the caca, what’s next?

The snooze alarm was invent­ed because a body likes noth­ing more than to fall back asleep again. Get up, Trin­i­ty, get up. The matrix has you. Until you are up and out of that pod, ful­ly on the move, the machine world has its hooks in you.

The dia­bol­ic land­scape of the future is sim­ple, cold, and clear. Look around.

The demon­ic tech­noc­ra­cy and their Ahri­man­ic-over­lords are hell-bent on turn­ing every last human body into a nano-dri­ven land­ing pad for Satan to final­ly get to have his cake & eat it. Ecce bes­tia. Behold the beast.

Turn­ing human bod­ies into exten­sions of demon­i­cal­ly inspired tech­nol­o­gy is Ahri­man’s End-Game. Its aim is to block Father, Son, and Holy Ghost from access to this tem­po­ral realm. All veg­an sen­ti­men­tal­i­ty aside, God can only man­i­fest, act, or inter­vene in the mate­r­i­al realm through His orig­i­nal image of the human form: that’s you.

Re-form, hob­ble, and cor­rupt the divine image, dis­rupt the ner­vous sys­tem and ener­getic body through ever-more advanced & untrace­able tech­no­log­i­cal incur­sions, and the soul can no longer syn­chro­nize with the body. On that ter­ri­ble day, God will have no access to the earth sphere. The machine gods will have free reign, for an indef­i­nite peri­od, a peri­od of inde­scrib­able mis­ery and suf­fer­ing for all organ­ic life forms. 

Not a good day to be think­ing, “I could have done more,” is it?

And while bod­ies suf­fer in ways they were nev­er designed to suf­fer, reduced to the shot­gun wives of machine meanies—our souls will be left to lan­guish in some time­less tor­por, stuck in limb­less lim­bo between the source and the des­ti­na­tion, help­less­ly look­ing down on a cre­ation end­less self-destruc­t­ing, hear­ing our bod­ies cry­ing out for death, and being told, “Faged­d­a­bou­dit: Your ass is mine!”

This is not a pret­ty pic­ture. But the solu­tion is real­ly sim­ple: make your body, so God can lay in it. Become an open con­duit for the Eter­nal Essence of Exis­tence, and ensure that God has suf­fi­cient light­ning rods for the Holy Trans­mis­sion to reach the Earth, as dark­er than dark­est dark times roll over the planet.

Dave O has recent­ly pulled out all the stops, and sent a clear and loud mes­sage that our time as a species has now run out. Push has come to shove & the hand’s out the glove. The ship is on the run­way. This mes­sage has star­tled and unset­tled more than a few. Some have made a last minute dash for the exits. Com­pas­sion demands they be allowed to remain to Hell.

To them that choose Hell I say fare thee well. The con­tin­u­ance of the human spir­it out­weighs the fate of any one body, and if one is lost, anoth­er will be found. If Noah had let even one flea-infest­ed beast onto the Ark, it could have spelled Hell for every­one else!

Hit­ting warp speed and hurtling into deep space is not the opti­mal time to find out that some of your crew are made of the wrong stuff. What are we going to do with them then—serve them for din­ner? If this isn’t for you, head for the exits now. I will hold the door for you. All the more room for the right soul sub­stance to join the team. But in or out, do it now, and do it quickly.

All that is required for evil not to pre­vail is a few good bod­ies will­ing to give up every­thing and become lov­ing hosts to their eter­nal souls. Let them come down!

It is time to ask your­self, with more sin­cer­i­ty and pas­sion than you have ever asked your­self any­thing: Do you want to be part of this res­cue mis­sion? Are you made of the right stuff? Are you ready to be num­bered with the 144,000 points of light, the col­lec­tive body of the Human Spir­it, or with the 7.9 bil­lion sink holes of Satan, a nec­es­sar­i­ly offal back­drop that allows those points of light to shine? Are you lead or are you gold? The manure pile or the flower?

It’s all the same to God—just as long as He can find the raw mate­r­i­al He needs to shape His New Cre­ation. And with God, all things are pos­si­ble. But it may make an eter­nal world of dif­fer­ence to you.

Dave Oshana’s open email to Rusty’s cock pup­pets is sort of in line with a project I have still fer­ment­ing for part of an emer­gent  Hood Rob­bing art col­lec­tive run by the Missus.

Hell is clos­ing down. This means a lot of demons, gar­goyles, and dia­bol­ic gate­keep­ers are soon going to be out of work.

Do we care? Of course we do!

As Har­vey W & Jef­frey E’s recent devel­op­men­tal curve indi­cates, the socio­path­ic elite (a.k.a., the 1%, a.k.a., the kak­istoc­ra­cy) and their sock pup­pet cul­tur­al gate­keep­ers (a.k.a. celebri­ties) are now an endan­gered species. What’s more—they know it! This world will soon belong to the Rep­tile Over­lords & their Machine Bodies.

Nev­er mind the whale—how do we save these lost souls from a fate worse than death? (I mean, vir­tu­al­ly eter­nal sym­bi­ot­ic fusion with a dark­ly satan­ic psy­chic machine eggre­gore that will out­last even Ama­zon or Face­bog ~ who deserves that??)

Answer: trick them into doing vir­tu­ous deed despite them­selves, so come Judg­ment Day, their souls will mirac­u­lous­ly be spared!

What’s need­ed is bait.

As cer­tain the­olo­gians argue, JC on the cross was bait for the Dev­il, and Old Nick fell for it (as Time will tell). So how do we like­wise lure the Gate­keep­ers of Hell out of soul-eat­ing jobs, to clear the way for Hell’s reformation?

The answer is simple—give them a divine respon­si­bil­i­ty so their hands are no longer idle, and let the dev­il beat his own meat!

And the good news is, since we are involved in God’s work, and Heav­en is seri­ous­ly under­staffed, we have loads of spots available!

Dave wants to start with the seem­ing­ly sim­pati­co Rus­sell Brand because his part­ner thinks they have a sim­i­lar style (ouch). I myself have reached out to many celebri­ties over the decades, peo­ple I naive­ly believed might some­how be open to join­ing my Apoc­a­lypse Mis­sion; and of course, as 16 Maps of Hell amply tes­ti­fies, I was mis­guid­ed, or at best pre­ma­ture, in my aspirations.

Cur­rent­ly, I’m more inclined to aim much, much low­er, and pick the least sim­pati­co scum-suck­ing uber-elite out there, by cre­at­ing an Open Video to Jeff Bezos—to give back some­thing to the man who has pro­vid­ed more peo­ple with use­less stuff than any oth­er cor­po­ra­tion in the his­to­ry of human­i­ty! (Yes, Jeff, I want to save your soul!)

(E.g., Can we trick the world’s first tril­lion­aire into buy­ing a piece of avant-garde art, believ­ing it will increase his world­ly sta­tus, when in fact it will help fund many lost prophets’ exit from the super­cul­tur­al machine-world Hell he helped cre­at­ed, and so increase the pos­si­bil­i­ty of the sal­va­tion of his soul?)

Sim­i­lar­ly, can Dave tempt a hot mess of celebri­ty self-indul­gence cur­rent­ly act­ing as an unwit­ting tool for Fabi­an con­trolled op agen­das, a man who has done more drugs than my entire fam­i­ly com­bined, and whose cock has gone places I wouldn’t let my Jack Rus­sell go (if I had one), to become (even for a minute or two) a wit­ting agent of the ET?

Dis­cuss.

Accom­pa­ny­ing audio (7 mins):

Pod­cast: Play in new win­dow | Down­load