Throwing Chickens to the Reptiles

Some humans are reptiles—grinning crocodiles. They are ice cold inside and they have a disdain for humanity. I love them. I like watching them. They don’t stand a chance long-term but that is what fascinates me.

On Friday night in our local bar the lizards gather, all scrubbed-up and posing as normal. They circle each other looking for a feed: young bucks from the stock exchange with an erection to get shot of, and girls in corners, lots of them, animated and giggling, having fun, evaluating offers, waiting for the highest bidder. It reminds me of the bar scene in Star Wars. It’s so much fun.

Reptiles grin a lot, but it gives them away; there is a phony quality to it. A grin that comes from your heart goes all the way through your soul to the outer edges of your smile, while the reptile’s grin stops short, and there is a very feint curled lip to it that marks the reptile’s predatory essence. The curl is usually in the etheric; if you relax your mind and you look carefully, using your feelings to watch and not your logic, you’ll see it. When the reptiles move around they leave an etheric trail; it’s a presence in the force field of a room say, like a wispy cloud of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. You can feel it.

The reptile humans are abducted humans, but they don’t know they have been captured. They pretend to have a mind. In fact they belong to another evolution—a netherworld which stretches down through the floor and below us at 240º.

But because they are supported and instructed and held up from within by the transdimensional ghouls, the humans almost never get sick and they are often very rich and/or very powerful. When the ghouls choose one of their humans to rule, that person usually winds up ruling. They are given the fast track to the top.

The trick to the reptiles is to love them and always agree with them and make them right, even when they are wrong. There is never any sense in trying to reason with them or take them on; you can’t appeal to human values and fairness, they are feeders. And anyway, you are only looking at the front man of a dark power, which may be one hundred thousand entities strong. The reptile humans always have their inner world allies and they will get up ahead of you and disadvantage you, and bend the minds of the bosses or the lawyers or judges, or anyone that might have an authority that could offer you a fair shake. It is almost impossible to beat the reptiles.

When dealing with the reptile human the trick is to throw them a chicken and keeping throwing chickens for as long as it takes. Tell them they are marvelous and right, and decent and fair, and tell them what a great contribution and energy they provide for others. Tell them they are a savior. Make them into mini-gods. That is what they want to hear. You’ll find they will rob your energy very quickly. But suffer it for a bit and keep throwing chickens, just keep telling them they are right and marvelous, it doesn’t cost you anything. Throw chickens, when they are full, flee.

Your only real defense is to keep your distance. Try not to be involved romantically, socially or in business. They will pretend to be decent but they will always eat you—remember that. The predators don’t ever change. It’s their evolution. There aren’t any crocodiles without teeth. If you are not lunch today, you’ll be dinner tomorrow; humans are just items on the reptile’s list.

The reptiles sometimes have a dark blob on their cheek, it’s usually about two inches in diameter just a little bigger than a silver dollar. It hovers frantically, jiggling about up and down. It also travels around their face, so you’ll see the blob near their nose and seconds later it has drifted up under one eye and so forth. In darkened rooms like a nightclub you can see it sometimes, but in daylight it disappears from view. It’ s the mark of the beast in the sense that it is a blot on their soul that they carry about with them—a marking that they have put on themselves over time. Nothing much is hidden in the etheric; it’s all there to see.

The human reptiles own this world and they control it in every minute detail. They make the laws, control the wealth and write the news. They are the ones that are chosen and elevated and endowed and placed into power. And their allies in the inner world guard all the doors, even the religious and spiritual ones, nothing moves without their permission. Take a lot of chickens, you can’t win.

But… there is always a but…

Now after ten thousand years, the reign of endless, cruel kings and queens that have been sustained by the unseen, lower kingdom, is about to change. The human reptiles will eventually fall and their world will be carried away, the only thing left at the end is the sound of water.

That is why I watch them, they are doomed. I feel for them. They can’t get rid of that blob, they don’t know it is there. And they can’t warm their blood, they don’t know how, and sadly, they can’t run as there is nowhere to hide. They are in the arm of an unseen forces and they are frozen in time, marked for life.

I feel for them…love them, as I said, just love them. It probably won’t help you or them one bit, but what else can one suggest? Anyway, we won’t see many of them for thousands of years, so as well as always making them right, throwing chickens and buttering them up all of the time, you might want to take a minute to say a silent goodbye.

But….there is always a but….

They are like the character Jack Torrance in The Shining, they will be back. Then again, so will we.

Cluck, cluck.