I watched The Boys From Brazil today. It said they put one of the boys in Tucson.

The ruler's staff belongs to me.

Big iron.

I think it really shows the sorry state of these infidels, whose execrable race I will extirpate from the face of the whole Earth forever, when I write on this website, over and over, "Stay away from me and maybe you will have a quick death instead of a slow one," and then, just now, one of those disguised women comes and gets in my face with some faggoty little bitch, whose baptism is now certain. Not only did this person dress up in an ugly disguise for me to be unable to fully enjoy intercourse with her, which she actually refused even though I had paid for it and she made me fuck a plastic bag in her vagina instead, today she dressed up in a decent looking disguise to prance by me with some fucking faggot. Does she make that faggot fuck a plastic bag in her vagina? If so, does she charge him $200 to fuck a plastic bag in her vagina while she wears an ugly costume? Why does she want to show me, "Look, for him I won't make myself ugly, I only do that for you?" Where is her shame?

If I am recalling this instance correctly, I think this person was Cara Delevingne, and she brought an extra-micro condom with her. I said, "That is way too small." She said, "No it will go on there." Then she used a suction maneuver with her mouth to put it on my big hard dick where, needless to say, it acted as a desensitizing compression sleeve when I tried to hit it doggy. True story: even Trojan Magnums are too small for me and squeeze my shaft with disquieting, pleasure-killing constriction, which is garrote-like at the bottom.

And while I'm on the subject of nogf, let me point out something which is vexing to me. Why is it that someone's desire not to meet someone on a dating site is legitimate, but my desire not to meet someone in an alcoholic cesspit of the nightlife is so widely considered illegitimate? I do not want to have a person in my life that is a constant reminder, "Haha, despite your personal convictions, you still gave your stamp of approval to that which you claim to hate." Besides the whole alcohol thing, and the whole loud and dark thing, and the whole bunch of lowlifes thing, and the obnoxious drunkenness thing, and the thing about licentiousness, I don't like how women will respond to any random sleazeball meme with sexy memes when my memes always get down voted. Being witness to that is one of my least favorite things. Women can say, "Me shaking my tits at you was a sexy meme," and that's true, but they probably only did that because my enemy told them to, and, in any case, I am speaking generally and not with regards to all instances. However, women's absolute adoration of manipulative salesman schlock is detestable to me, and I do not like to see it or be in the company of those who do. When women say, "Be confident," they mean to be like a confidence man, or a con-man. I never ask a woman out unless I am confident she will say yes, and this is not what women mean when they say to be confident. Also, I have learned that no matter how confident a women makes me with her hints and innuendo, she is highly likely to rescind it all in the moment of truth. I have absolute confidence in the statistics assembled through my experiences. I feel like it's the best thing to say, "Hey, do you want to go out with me?," and then take yes or no for answer, but women, overwhelmingly, find such advances detestable, due to the heathen culture provided to them by men.

I wonder if my enemy was having a bunch of good looking women dress up as the same not very good looking woman, Emily, to fuck me so that he could say, "Look, he's fucking all these beautiful woman and he still wants to keep fucking more ugly ones," while providing me with the appearance to me that I was only fucking the same not good looking one, who looks I was never pleased with. I have also suspected that he was having good looking prostitutes sent to my apartment in Dunwoody while I was out, so that he could say the same thing: that he was sending good looking ones to my apartment while only sending disgusting ones while I was home.

Landlord Caught Having Sex In Tenants's Bed. The thing about this story was that that guy wasn't the landlord, he was having sex in the landlord's bed. Whose faggotry was this? Was it Le Happy Merchant, or was it Smug Pepe? When I had that dream of one of the frogs coming into my apartment to rape me with some faggot Randy Dunson, which I now believe was a memory, not a dream, that wasn't the Happy Merchant. That was a frog. However, who was setting it up to be able to come into my apartment? Do they drug me at night when they do these things? The night before the memes recently started saying Helene died (not the first time they said this btw), I had the same dream-like experience of one of the frogs (who told me he was Carlos) coming into my bed and just laying there next to me. So... do they drug me, or do they have an implant that can turn off my conscious awareness? Or one that keep me in a dreamlike state akin to a sleepwalker's? Whatever it is, I will repay.

I don't like your affirmative body language, it pisses me off. It says to me, "I want you to ask me out so I can turn you down, because that is how I derive joy: from kicking you in the balls, not fucking you." If affirmative body language was pleasing to me, then I would like to hang out in the strip club, and I don't. Why do I think affirmative body language means that? It's because every time they send someone to give me affirmative body language, affirmative in the maximally undeniable way of overt hinting, and then I ask them out, they say no.... because there is no such thing as undeniable body language. No matter what the body language says, there is always a smooth conversational connector, "What?!?!? No way creep, you're delusional." (This is how I got expelled from college and is why I don't have a PhD, among very, very many equivalent instances.) This is in contrast to something like getting naked in my house, where no such conversational connector exists.

Your teasing doesn't please me at all, and since you would rather tease me than give me what I want, that means you are more interested in pleasing my enemy than pleasing me. I don't care what lies you believe, you work for the same ones who sent all those others to do the same thing to me, and then turn me down. If you want to make me happy, take your clothes off and lie in my bed. I know you'll do it for them, and if you won't do it for me, then stay away. This post on 4chan today pissed me off pretty well. Did they tell her I like being teased? That's not it; it's they like to put me in situations tantamount to cuckoldry, and I hate that. Thread on 4chan said, "How to reward positive worker behavior." You working for my enemy isn't positive behavior, it's negative. I don't like being teased. I'll smile at you if your shake your titties at me, but I rather you just stay away if you aren't going to take your clothes off. Since you know me, and you already know what I want, and you know I don't want to ask for what ought to be offered, and you don't give it to me but do give it to my enemy instead, and offer me a poor substitute, nothing about it is positive.

Pic related, do people tell themselves that this is what I like rather than this what I couldn't find anything better than? There were other ones better looking than Emily, but none of them looked like what I was looking for. If Allison Brie was wearing pic related costume for me, she did look like it underneath, but she thought to hide it from me instead. The denial is what she wanted, not the acquiescence to my desire. If I'm not mistaken, I think they sent other pretty girls to me after donning similar ugly disguises. Why do they do this? It's because they enjoy my denial. This is unacceptable, and it makes me very angry, and I become very much angrier still when I notice that not one corrective action has been initiated in all the years that followed.

John, that's me. Jesus, it appears, is the "messiah", or perhaps "messenger." I wrote most of this website and my last one on my old computer: Jesus. Jesus was the computer I used through many years.

The messenger referred to in the verse was the one, likely, named TT, and that is why he had the problems that he had, because he said what is in the verse. In the arc of my life, I was never doing very well when I was with Helene and Joe. The Marines was not a good place for me, though I was an expert marksman and it's really important for Marines to be able to hit what they're shooting at. Then I went through some personal improvements as a salesman, that is where I learned that I don't like to employ manipulative rhetoric in personal matters with strangers. Then the time in my life where I made the gains was when I started doing Jiu Jitsu with Jacaré, or TT perhaps. The picture that the sphinx is based on is from the 2009 worlds where I lost on a stupid technical deficiency. I should have rolled to the outside with my omo plata instead of just forward and backward. Then I wrote my first paper. Nothing ever came it in positive way, but it seems like it did in a negative way. I don't know if I ever saw him again after his heart attack, or maybe not until I tried to go to Jerusalem. I trained with Mark a lot then, and James Bang comes to mind, and Mark's brother Young too. Hopefully the best times of my life are yet to come, but the best years I had so far are the one I spent with him. The personal gains I made there set the stage for all of my subsequent gains, intellectual and otherwise.

Jesus was the computer I had when I was the wilderness during the year after I chose to go to Jerusalem and they rejected me, not once, but three times. Since Mark has said to interpret his words through the lens of Isaiah, "to baptize" means "to kill with righteousness." Locusts are like the roaches I smoked that year, and just today I ate some berries growing on a plant downtown.

Me in the future will be a lot more powerful than me now. I made the most personal gains in my life in my early years of jiu jitsu with the team at Alliance, which is the root word of Allah. 177 is likely a derivative as well. I use straps to balance on the myrtle tree when I do my pistols, which is an amazing exercise that I should have started doing years ago, and my new sandals also have straps, but my old ones didn't. I think the last sentence regards the police actions leading into the nuclear war.

I notice that the structure of the prose in the Gospel of Mark is such that it is conducive to study on this website.

I, myself, have recently started writing about Nazi wrath on my new computer, ResurrectionJesus. I baptized Jesus in the wilderness above the Sandy Springs MARTA station about six weeks ago when it slipped and the monitor broke. Some horse stuff from my upcoming book (my /pol/ ID recently said OgOcS0ld so hopefully it will be printed soon) is described. Recently, thinking about my dad, I imagined him saying exactly the words, "With you I am well pleased." I went out into Wilderness immediately after I chose to make my house in Jerusalem.

Was I put in "prison" in 2009? Is that when I soon went into Georgia li'l pookie?

I guess that's Mark. Did some of the people I later called Jacaré also get called Little Pookie by me? Will I send the disciples to baptize my enemies, who are also their enemies, so I don't have to baptize them myself? Giving into the hands of the enemy is a strong theme in Isaiah. Seems like it mentions James and the brother at the end there, and also the other James I mentioned recently in the dream posts is a "brother."

I gave a small sermon today. I hope I used authority and impressed them as described. I have wondered if Cobrinha killed the one who helped me the most and I thought I saw him today. When he showed up, the other man left I was speaking with left, and then I felt that I should not remain in the company of a mocker, and I left too, though he followed me around a bit. I thought it was Cobrinha, and I have previously wondered is the problems of the Rohingya are related to Cobrinha being their guy. It seems like the answer is yes, and if so, I will likely intensify their problems. To Jeff's credit, he once said, "Fuck Cobrinha!," to me, and I thought he was spot on in what he said though I have shown deference to Cobrinha's belt with regards to his style of training. FYI, if people were wearing false belts, as I know they were, they will be baptized by the team, unless they were doing it for some good reason such as, perhaps, because they didn't want to see me by sneaking into my apartment.

I have come to destroy the evil doers.

The title of this one says to me "Jesus Baptizes Mary." Not only is Helene a sorceress, but I am certain that she is terminally unhappy, and suffering. Regarding the 4chan banners, clearly Mark is allowed to speak. I see Lucas has a Gospel right now too, but I also see where it casts dispersions from Mosque in Jerusalem upon those people of the book with their "three."

I have the option to remove the implants from other people, just like I have the option to baptize them.

I'll probably head back downtown in a few days. In those pictures which I recently posted regarding Exodus, I think someone with a ruler would do well to examine the ratios of the lines in picture where the light is coming in through the roof of the tent. I took these pictures to show what I thought were implants in my foot, and that seems relevant to the title of this section. I guess Mark didn't like being in 4chan banner until I did this part of it, and if he got angry about it that's no big deal for me.

God is my Hebrew name like Jon is my English name.

This has to be the time at Circle Sushi, and it was the second weird experience I had there. After having an odd encounter with an obese women from OkStupid, and later taking another woman from OkStupid to Circle Sushi, the obese woman was there at the same time as me, and sat right next to me. When another person agreed to come hang out with me on Facebook, the person who was not from OkStupid but with whom I later to went to get sushi, the man who looks in profile like the happy merchant showed up, and so did Elaine.

The ugly person I was with from facebook, who claimed to be Ronnah but looked too much like an ugly old man crossed with another woman Ashley who was likely impersonated on one of more occasions coming to have sex with me at Viewpoint (I say this because I think the Ronnah imposter was wearing an Ashley mask), told me about Shaw Industries after we left when I suddenly became very uncomfortable at the restaurant. I was hearing "We're going to kill you from the man and Elaine, and I assumed they were saying it to her, but now I'm not so sure. Later, I Googled Shaw Industries and saw it was on Titan Row near Disney World. That was odd for me because I was watching Attack on Titan at that time, and the person claiming to be Ronnah was like one of those huge lumbering weirdos on the show.

At the restaurant, that person who had used Ronnah's facebook to message me and then agree to come to my apartment for sex kept pointing to one of the TVs saying, "Look, it's the Japanese Gameshow." I recognized several of the toys I'd left at Helene's house when I moved in with Joe in the looped footage which was referred to as the Japanese Gameshow. There was a green Lego base plate, some black treaded Lego wheels, some electrical connectors from Joe's electronics parts box that I had taken, some little motors from some toy cars that you could put them in, and I had one steel marble among many glass ones, just like I saw on what that person called the Japanese Gameshow. Regarding Shaw industries, Bull Shaw was a person at Alliance, I went with him in my first class. There is a Schauble too (Shaw Bull), and Clinton was always insisting to me in recent times for some reason, "Aaron Schauble is with us," but I never knew what he meant. However, it was around the time I started thinking about Scientology and making posts not intended to flatter that cult which will likely be destroyed in full by me. One time, I visited Emily Hancock's brother John and his friend Brennan in the same Marietta apartment where Bull Shaw had lived.

The other day I thought I might fast for a few days, but in the evening I changed my mind. That was two days ago, on Tuesday. Perhaps those disciples can fast and Jesus cannot because thgey have stomachs but Jesus is God's electronic device. I was wondering if Allison Brie dressed up as Emily this morning. That would make me very angry to learn that she was working with my enemy, and also that she made herself ugly for me so I could not enjoy her beauty.

I picked some berries and ate them today, probably for the first time in twenty years. I see that David was taking some bread when he was hungry. I too have been eating food which has the superficial appearance of food that I should not eat. In fact, relating to these very actions, I recently pointed out that I would never say what it says in Exodus 22:2.

I said that not only would I never say this, but that it seems to be a double negative. I think it's ok to take food if you can't pay for it, and the solution is to pay the person, not to sell them. Similarly, I said I would never say what it says in Matthew 5:27-28. I also said that when the Bible accuses the Israelites of "not knowing The Lord" it would be easy to tell if they knew me by examining whether or not they thought I said to sell people who have no money that steal.

I thought I saw Humberto the other day. He looked very sad, and when Helene was my roommate recently, I thought she wore a disguise designed to ingratiate herself to me under the appearance that she was my good friend Humberto in disguise. I know he really loves his nephew Matteus. No one else named Matt comes to mind. Anyway, where the thing from Exodus had a double negative of my disagreement, I recently also said that I would never say this thing from Matthew's recounting of Jesus' sermon on the mount.

Obviously, this too is a double negative for me. I do like to admire women's sexy bodies, and I would never say that having sex with someone who is not your spouse is, in all cases, sexually immoral. I would never say that for unmarried people, and I would never say that for married people either. It would never happen, and the double negative structure is the same. What if two people are married and their libidos are mismatched, or they have different desires? My answer to that isn't, "Too bad." There is certainly adultery, but adultery is a case of sexual immorality. For instance, when the wife has secret visitors in the husband's bed while he is at work, and that sort of patently immoral behavior..

Before my first class where Bull Shaw was my partner, I went to Alliance to watch a class. Humberto Borges was training hard with his partner, and that's how I wanted to train. Humberto rolled right in front of where I sat, and I watched him train with maybe two or three people on the first time I went to Alliance.

There was some cute girl working at the grocery store. The first few times I saw her, she was really giving a lot of attention to some skeezy little faggot at the other cash register. If they were putting her there to do that to him, but not to me, that is a good example of the kind of thing I will exterminate entire social networks over. The skeezy faggot reminded me of my old neighbor, the one who told me he was the one taking my sperm after everyone started calling me El Arcón, and then was harassing me downtown during my homelessness, very many times. I don't know about the grocery store, but from that other man's family and friends, not one will survive.

After I got sent back to the USA the first time, I was sitting next to a Hasid who looked exactly like the happy merchant in profile. We watched a video on his laptop. I thought I was finally going to get some answers, but we just watched the video of the Trump inauguration. Then he went into the bathroom and another Hasid came back. I said, "Where did the other guy go?" He denied being a different person and then the guy sitting in front of us got up and turned around seeming disturbed. That guy was Tim at Exide on one or more occasions.

So, now that I know about anal implants, let me say a little more about the first Hasid. When I was sitting next to him, he made a show of wiggling his fingers at the same time my anal zapper went crazy, as if to intimate to me that he was zapping my anus with his psychic powers. It was so strong, I thought I was being stabbed in the anus through my seat with needles. I had been wondering if that was a purely psychic attack, but on that return flight home I really thought I was being stabbed in the anus through my seat. I got up and moved, but the anal zapper kept zapping me wherever I would sit.

So... in addition to the implant in my anus, during my early 2017 travels, my chode area became very sore, and I have felt zaps there too, and I probably have other implants there. Pic related, it makes me think there are three implants. Even more pic related, pic related is kind of like the sphinx and three pyramids. In this picture, do you see how it's kind of like a guy looking at three things in his butt? They say this painting isn't Muhammad, that it's actually Ali, and other people say it's an unknown mystery man. Painting shows Allah.

I am pretty sure the Book of Zechariah is named after Jacaré, or vice versa, so I will make a study of the first chapter here.

I made that other post about Leviticus 26 the other day when I was wondering if, perhaps, I spoke to someone the who is Netanyahu's son. He told me his mother was goyish, but not his father.

I've been doing pistol squats next to the myrtle tree in my back yard, I can't get to the bottom on my left leg, and I'm working on that. The part with the horses is evocative an important scene in my book.

In addition to doing pistols, using the myrtle tree for balance, I've been walking these past few days. Even thought I spent more than two hours with no hat or sunscreen in the in the noon-day, Atlanta summer sun, the top of my head did not get even the slightest hint of tan. It has been cloudy, but the tanning rays are supposed to go through the clouds, and my head should be at least a little tanned if not sun burned. (I always forget that it takes a while for the tan to show up. (Or does it? I forget.) I just looked and my head does look about how I'd expect, but last time I did the sun burn test I think they hit me with the UV lamp, and they may or may not have done so today.)

This last part about helping their affliction ties back to how I didn't used to want to make war on the Israelites, but then I did after they didn't let me exercise my right of return. Helene really wanted me to go there and live on the kibbutz with her when I was a teenager, so I was surprised to see that I was no longer welcome when I tried to go.

I tried to return, but they didn't let me. I wanted to build my house there, but they rejected me. The line being stretched forth is evocative of the Howitzer dream I recently recounted.

This one is hard to see exactly what it is saying. Feels like the cities I want to build relating to my irrigation project. However, I did choose Jerusalem in 2017. They sent me away.

It was this picture that I took which led to me starting to prefix my images with the word TRINITY. In one of the uncropped images, the street sign said TRINITY AVE. This other picture has seven horns, and that is an important theme in the Book of Revelation.

Since Judah was Israel's son, I always wonder about passages like this. When it was recounting the birth of Jacob's sons in Genesis, it usually listed all the sons each woman had. However, when talking about Judah's mother, it said she had Judah and then stopped having sons, and then had some more later. I wondered if that meant, perhaps, Judah looked like he was the other guy's biological son.

Hard to know what this saying, but I will make a guess. When I took the picture where the shadow of my hair looks like four horns, I was photographing the graffito which says "OH NO, MATH" but is also an incomplete mural. It has four letters and four letter, but that is a stretch to four horns and four carpenters. I was commenting that, although the mural seems in solidarity with my efforts, I felt like it was more in solidarity with my enemy because it was perpetuating the notion that my math is incomplete (because the word MATH is only partially painted.) And certainly, it is through the idea that my research is anything other than excellent that my enemies seek to "scatter" me. Also, the horns were on my head which I have lifted up more lately, and I know this is not as concise and spot-on as some other bible things I've pointed out. I guess it revolves around whether or not that guy, who I like, is Netanyahu's son.

However, I want to point out that when it says I will choose Jerusalem, I already did that. This passage is from a book in what are called the minor prophets, and the promises about obedience or non-obedience in Leviticus are in the Torah. The Torah says that they will reap what they sow. Also, did the person I think of as Jacaré get rescued from the dungeon when I chose Jerusalem? If so, that would be a good reason for it to be mentioned in the book that shares his name.

Walking around my neighborhood, I noticed how the sidewalk spray paint that says Zetas/FBI (ZFS/FBL) looks like, in many cases, the NXIVM logo (and often the freemason logo). I was walking around this week and I noticed another thing. Recall that when I went to Jennifer's house (leading to my expulsion from GT) I looked out her window across Marietta Street and saw the single most sinister looking, mean skull graffito. Where that "art" was, now there is Delia's Chicken Sausage Stand. When I first saw the new building, before I knew the chicken meme, I was repulsed by the container on top of the building and I thought it was a previous "toy box" torture chamber (also this was before I became familiar with the term "toy box.") Yesterday, I noticed that the place's motto is "Keep on cluckin'" and that is too much like "Keep fucking that chicken." I also noticed that, among all the street art stickers in this neighborhood where I previously lived for several years, the biggest, most prominent one is a cartoon chicken head.

This neighborhood also has Westside Urban Market where Kimberly and I used to go to lunch. In that market is also Bacchanalia, named for Bacchus, the deity of ritual insanity. Paul Merritt is a former Red Dog APD officer, and he has a private company that does security for Westside Urban Market. After coming to me under the guise of friendship during my homelessness, I think Paul colluded with my enemy to initiate a new period of involuntary detention for me, a.k.a. enslavement, but failed to do so, likely on account of Helene and Joe's previous successful attempt to enslave me, temporarily, in 2014. When I moved into the loft building next to Westside Urban Market, I remember having a series of ultra violent dreams, only one of which I clearly recall now. In the hall outside my loft there, there about a quart of dried blood on the wall. It was not paint, it was blood.

There were 4chan posts the other day by someone with the name Vicky. Then, in another thread, my ID was M4lydVKY, meaning:

Your mother lied.

So this is my question for Vicky: Did you not notice that my mother is female. If so, why were you asking her instead of the man of the family? Is Vicky female? If so, she's fired. There is no place for women in the patriarchy. Go make your husband a sandwich, Vicky.

A big downside of this whole situation where the rebellion against my rightful authority goes on full steam ahead is this: if some woman gives me her phone number tomorrow, then it means she is completely dedicated to my enemy, and they told her now it's ok. Still... it says you are supposed to make an offering.

>tfw no gf and the only thing they are thirsty for is to obey my enemy

Not cute enough for a woman, still not one in all these years, to offer me what I want apparently. Remember when I used to make those posts, "I know there some level a man can reach where women will seek him out, and that level is much higher than where I thought it would be." I wonder, in addition to to lying about who I am and what I've done, are they also forbidding women to ever offer it to me, just to spite me, because they know that is my true desire? I know they sent plenty of women to say not to me and make fun of me, are the telling the others to stay away? Do I even want one from my enemy's reporting hierarchy?

Just to be clear: what I'm doing when they say I'm not doing anything is trying to reach that level. When the say they aren't doing anything, are they making it harder for me to get there than it would have been? Obviously by lying about who am I and what I've done they are, but are they even going so far as to directly forbid that which I've been working toward all these years? Feels like it.

Regarding those posts from yesterday, let me reiterate. Did the people who disparaged me for thinking it was the same guy notice that he was doing the lookalike thing all along? Or did they not notice it until the end there?

I can't feel the thing in my anus anymore. It felt like pic related: a small cylinder. I wish they would take this thing out of my foot too. It sucks and every time it zaps me its like the whole USA government saying, "Haha, I make you my slave."

I'll tell you what else about imposters. Whoever that was pretending to be Karen at Waffle House is on my shit list. And later, whoever that was pretending to be Karen in the kitchen at Joe's house, looking not at all unlike Tina Fey, is also on my shit list. Whoever it was will almost certainly be put to death. I don't like that, and I take it as disrespect. Whoever those people were, you won't want to have the appearance of not hating them when I came to judge what happened.

In fact, I can imagine some feeble minded infidel saying, "Is he retarded? How could he not notice?" To that I say, "If you think me not saying that I noticed means that I didn't notice then you are fucking retarded."

To the people who want to say, "JT is stupid, he didn't even notice that the guy looked totally different," I say, "I did notice." I started noticing that Jacaré looked different sometimes when I was a blue belt, and it is the other people, perhaps, who didn't notice back then when the lookalikes were more similar who are stupid. If I am stupid, then it is for not recognizing that the different looking man was a different man altogether. However, I had already noticed that many years earlier, and everyone was always calling him Jacaré, so I figured it was him and there was something else going on, and I didn't worry about it and kept training. I had always noticed there was something going on with that, but particularly two instances from very early on are on my mind. Once at the Krog he looked very young, and I said to myself, "What the fuck?!?!" Then another time, above MicroSeconds, I saw the man with very broad shoulders and, honestly, when I saw that guy and said, "What the fuck?!?!?," to myself, I may have been a white belt. So, by the time the lookalike didn't look very much alike any more, I had already been ignoring his changing appearance for many years. It's like that time Joey dressed up as the woman I hated most at Exide, even more than Sandy. He might have said, "Damn JT is stupid not to notice, but I did notice." More, I would say, "Damn, they were stupid to be fucking with me."

I saw this link today. I didn't read the article but I thought I'd comment on what it says at the top. First off, moodiness isn't a mood disorder. It's a trait shared by very many healthy people. Second, highly creative people are less likely to be dull, it's true. Dull people are less likely to be highly creative, and there is definitely a correlation, maybe not a causal one, between lack of dullness and creativity.

Adolf Hitler wrote, "The more I argued with them, the better I came to know their dialectic. First they counted on the stupidity of their adversary, and then, when there was no other way out, they themselves simply played stupid. If all this didn't help, they pretended not to understand, or, if challenged, they changed the subject in a hurry, quoted platitudes which, if you accepted them, they immediately related to entirely different matters, and then, if again attacked, gave ground and pretended not to know exactly what you were talking about. Whenever you tried to attack one of these apostles, your hand closed on a jelly-like slime which divided up and poured through your fingers, but in the next moment collected again. But if you really struck one of these fellows so telling a blow that, observed by the audience, he couldn't help but agree, and if you believed that this had taken you at least one step forward, your amazement was great the next day. The Jew had not the slightest recollection of the day before, he rattled off his same old nonsense as though nothing at all had happened, and, if indignantly challenged, affected amazement; he couldn't remember a thing, except that he had proved the correctness of his assertions the previous day."

I saw this exceprt from his book on 4chang the other day. I remarked that I hated people like that but I didn't associate that behavior with my fellow Jews. In fact, I associate rational thought with the Jews, but my experience is mostly with American Jews who are the best Jews, I think. However, if I was going to pick one single person in the whole world who epitomizes that which Hitler was writing about, it would be Helene. As far as I can tell, she is the leader of the American Jews. Since they refuse to heed the command of the Sovereign Lord God of Israel, namely Exodus 22:18: "Do not allow a sorceress to live," the leadership of the American Jews must be those referred to in Revelation 23:9. It says, "Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie." So then, since those Jews which I do like are having these Satan Jews and the sorceress, the Queen of Heaven (Helene), as their god and not me, I am compelled to point out that having other gods is pretty much the worst thing that Jews ever get accused of in the Torah. It is the evilest thing they, as a people, do. Note well, if you read the Torah, the thing the Isrealites do that The Lord hates the most is to have other gods before their own jealous god: God Almighty. Therefore, they are indicted as a people. Someone might note that I never used to contemplate the possibility of killing every other Jew besides myself, but after the State of Israel denied my right of return in 2017, I did start to wonder about it. (Did this really happen? I still don't know. I did get an Israeli denial stamp in my passport.) Everyone who knows me should know that I am 100% for killing the followers for the crimes of the leaders.

So, insofar as I am the Master of the Day of Judgement, I will have to choose somewhere along a spectrum which includes the Christian thing, and also the Islamic thing. The Christian end times thing to which I refer is in Revelation 7:4. It says the remnant will have 144,000 Israelites in it. The Islamic thing, which I don't have a citation for, says the Mahdi will destroy all Jews. Either way is fine with me, anywhere on the spectrum of the size of the remnant is fine with me. I will make the best decision I can with the information I have at that time.

Ezekiel 47, which, like Isaiah 35, very much describes my irrigation project, says that when the irrigated land is distributed, "You are to distribute this land among yourselves according to the tribes of Israel. You are to allot it as an inheritance for yourselves and for the foreigners residing among you and who have children. You are to consider them as native-born Israelites; along with you they are to be allotted an inheritance among the tribes of Israel. In whatever tribe a foreigner resides, there you are to give them their inheritance." So this begs the question: Am I the hereditary chief of all 12 tribes right now, or only Judah? I think I am in charge of all of them. That's what my 47 rank means, if I'm not mistaken. If so, I don't need any of those other Jews to keep the covenant. I can make 12 tribes of my own multi-racial children. By treating the foreigners with my children as native-born Israelites, my children with them will be members of the tribe in every sense of the Hebrew law. Which tribe is that? Well... I think the Israelites are named after Satan so that isn't looking good for them. (My opinion is that Jacob is Satan.) The Jews, however, are named after me: J.W., a fellow Israelite with them. Perhaps this is what Revelation refers to when it says that they are not real Jews: I will make the Jews, the Satan Jews are called Israelites. I am a reasonable person however, and I will make a reasonable decision at that time. Please note my intention in that regard: my priority will be to lay a good foundation for the future, it will not be to make people happy in the present.

So... those of you who read what I write, you should know which way I am leaning between what Islam says and what Christianity says. So, if you want to make it into the remnant, and you are a Jew, you should repent of having other gods before me right away, and non-Jews should too, but especially the Jews should because their book is the Torah. Don't go try to bury your shekels in the desert and then come back saying, "Oh, I just found out you were him." Do it now.

Probably, honestly, it does say that I should not kill all of them, so if you want to be someone who does make it into the remnant, you should unfuck who your god is right away, because I am sorely displeased with your sorceress worship inside the Synagogue of Satan, and your worship of the leadership of the Synogogue of Satan (Israel) in the rank and file Jewry. And if I am still alive at the end then I did not kill them all. If my descendants become more numerous than the stars, then everything is kosher because Abraham is my ancestor.

To this last point about killing them all or not, the Torah is the book of my people and I don't care what Christianity or Islam say, though they are interesting to me because those documents do exist. Regarding the Torah, Leviticus 26 is in order altogether, and especially verses 9-13 which say, "I will look on you with favor and make you fruitful and increase your numbers, and I will keep my covenant with you. You will still be eating last year’s harvest when you will have to move it out to make room for the new. I will put my dwelling place among you, and I will not abhor you. I will walk among you and be your God, and you will be my people. I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt so that you would no longer be slaves to the Egyptians; I broke the bars of your yoke and enabled you to walk with heads held high." So, when I interpret this... do you want me feeling like I can fulfill the covenant on my own, which I can, or do you want to be there too because you rejected the Queen of Heaven and Israel, and had no other gods before me: The Living God? As surely as The Lord lives, I am him.

Leviticus 26, read the whole thing.

This post will remind me to research the woman who said, "Do you want to cum with mommy?," at the grocery store today, 20180518, immediately after another woman gave me Helene memes.

I pointed out the other day how much Lucas looks exactly like the elder Tsarnaev brother. Then I think I saw the younger brother on the street the next day giving me a dirty look, and maybe one other person too. I guess, after Lucas made such a show of his alliance with my enemies at the Mission last year, everything else he ever did was in alliance with my enemies too.

When I was a teenager, I had a dream about the most punk rock person in Warner Robins, Sean. Incidentally, I think he came to fuck with me while I was in the Atlanta Mission last year, and then for a few weeks after that I was seeing people who looked like him all over town. One of them did that thing where they face away from you looking at their phone and then still manage to get in your way while you try to walk past but acting like they didn't do it on purpose because they were facing the other direction. I am definitely going to remember that guy from the sidewalk that day. I will not forget him.

Anyhow, I had this dream where Sean and I were smoking weed on someone's back porch. This was back in the day when weed had seeds in it, and I was using my index finger to drag seeds out of the weed that was broken up on the plastic lawn furniture table. Somehow I traced a pentagram (pentacle) with my finger and then I knew that the Cacao demon was coming to live inside me and that I would be the anti-christ, because what I had done on the table that day was "the straw that broke the camel's back." I didn't know much about Brasil back then, but the spelling of that word Cacao is very Brasilian. So I was disturbed that I was going to become the Anti-Christ and went to my friend Jed's house where he was in the front yard. I told him that what I did was the straw that broke the camel's back (tracing the pentagram in the weed I think) and that I was going to be the Anti-Christ. Then green flames burst forth from my eyes and ears and I woke up.

On the morning of September 11, 2011, I went to psychology class at Macon State. Then I went to Jesse's house to smoke. I was breaking the weed up on the plastic lawn furniture near his pool and I recognized it, later, as the backyard from the dream. It had a screened in back porch between the house and the pool, and that is where I was in the dream, but on 9/11 we were out by the pool. Then we smoked and I left. I had to drive right by Jed's house. I went to the bank and the Pentagon was on fire on the TV. Then I went home and saw the twin towers too. The two plumes of flame from each building were like the two plumes from eyes, and two from my ears.

In the weeks before 9/11, I was already thinking about that dream because something weird happened. I was working construction building swimming pools, and we had very many buckets for hauling dirt outside the warehouse. Usually they were restaurant pickle buckets, and sometimes they still smelled like pickles when we got them, but shortly before 9/11, I noticed a different kind of bucket. On the bottom where there is usually just a small dot from the bucket's injection molding manufacturing process, these other buckets had entire pentagrams on the bottom complete with a circle. It was not modest at all, it was probably 1.5 inches in diameter and raised at least 1 or 2mm from the flat bottom of the bucket. Obviously, when I saw it, it made me think of tracing the pentagram on the table in my anti-christ dream.

I was always worried about being the Anti-Christ after that, and I made a pretty good effort not to be evil. However, note that anti-correlation is almost exactly the same as correlation, and I intend to kill my enemies, not to be killed by them.

The most disgusting dream I ever had came to me in my barracks room on Camp Pendleton. For some reason I was looking at a woman's vagina. Then, as I watched, from her clit grew a long protuberance like a gnarwhal's tusk except it was flat on the end. On the flat part at the end grew several black dog's claws in a circle. For some reason, I put some utensil like a spatula into her vagina, I think I was trying to see what the deal was with the tusk, but all the flesh liquefied and I could not scoop it with the spatula because it was runny like apple sauce. I don't think (I hope not) that this one was prescient, but I mention it because it was the only one I ever had that was graphically disgusting.

Here's another one I had in New York. I was probably like 5 or 8. I was on Endor. I was Luke, and I was with Han and Leah and some others near a hollow log in the forest. The hollow log led to a tunnel, not unlike the place Luke encountered Darth Vader while training with Yoda on Dagobah, except the tunnel led completely underground. I came out in a big room hewn from stone, much bigger than the big room from the cave dream. I came into the big room high on the wall next to a pit of dinosaurs. There was a thin ledge and I walked past the dinosaurs and somehow came to the place in Lando's Cloud City where Darth Vader cut Luke's hand off. I was fighting Darth Vader, but the the fight was like a challenge from that kids' magazine Highlights where you have to find the images hidden in the drawing. I had to find the nose in the drawing, and I could not find it. Everywhere I looked, the detail of the drawing seemed to increase. Then, at the last moment, I noticed that the whole frame of the drawing was in the shape of a big schnaz and then I won the battle.

Many, many years later I went with a walk around the lake in the Nancy Creek neighborhood with Jacaré (or someone.) It was one of the only times we hung out away from jiu jitsu or watching UFC or something. After the noon class one day, I asked him if he wanted to go over there and he agreed. I took him to his house and he went to get his dogs, and probably a different person came out than I had just pulled up with. He was wearing a black shirt with a white collar, and when we walked around the trail I became very nervous like maybe he was going to shoot me. On the short drive from his house to the lake, a helicopter flew right in front of us like 30 feet above Ashford-Dunwoody Road. This was around the time I was becoming greatly disturbed the frequent child torture memes I was getting from Joey. Joey is El Mencho. When I brought Helene to tour his business, he gave Helene some flowers that they usually ship to Trader Joe's. She told me afterwards, "Joey is such a mensch!" Then she asked me about him every time we talked after that like he was my boyfriend until I finally said, "Why are you always asking me about Joey?!?!?!" While we were walking in Nancy Creek, Jacaré (or someone) said that sometimes some kids in Brasil had gone with him and disappeared, but they always showed up again in a few days. I was hoping he was talking about sex, but I couldn't be sure. He also told me that he was trying to train his dog to walk beside him, and I think he was talking about me.

I mention the walk because as we were walking around that trail, there was big opening in the dirt at the base of a tree and when I saw it it made me think of the hollow log in the Endor dream. I stopped to look at it and was quite surprised, and he said, "No, no, no," and we kept walking. From that trail you can see the top of the Ravinia building which always reminded me of Jabba's palace in its contours. At the end of the walk we were stretching on a bridge. I was thinking for some reason about the dream with the big room and the marching reptilians, and wondering if it was him. Then he said, "Oh you remember? They say animals can't remember." We were kind of talking about his dog when I said it, but it seemed more like he was talking about my wandering mind than his dog. I think the schnaz in the Darth Vader battle was the shnaz of the person I walked with that day. It is quite recognizable in profile, and the whole drawing was shaped like that profile. One time in Ohio I was walking with Jacaré (or someone) and we saw Carlson Gracie. He said, "Ahh! Narigudo!," and Jacaré (or someone) shook his head emphatically, "No!" I might be getting some noses mixed up, there were enough of those black-jacketed, gray-face men to completely encircle me.

When I read "Time and Timelines by Daniel" the part about the nose very much reminded me of this dream, and I think this is where I first heard about the Montauk Chair too.

Here's another dream I had in my grandfather Sol's apartment in Brooklyn. I was probably about 8. I was wandering around in the shul, the Jewish church, and there were some heavy curtains which I was playing in. Somehow I cam to a room behind the curtains and I saw my dad in a chair. It was very much like pic related. Then the chair began to squeeze him, and it crushed him flat. He became a piece of glass and shattered, and I woke up. I was greatly disturbed. The distress I felt at this dream was probably the greatest of any of them. Other disturbing dreams, upon waking, were more like, "Oh, that was weird," but I was honestly disturbed when I woke from this one. When I read about what is called the Montauk Chair, it reminded me very much of this dream.

In the five years or so before I left the school in 2017, I had a series of dreams, all different, with a common theme. I moved away from Atlanta for some reason, always to different places, and then because I was no longer near the school, I could not train, and I felt like I made a mistake. In real life, when I did leave the school last year, I felt no such thing. The whole environment of the school changed. The quality of the students degraded greatly and I did not universally enjoy their company as I once did, though there were still several goodies in there ;). So I would find myself away from the school and then I realized I messed up. In one particular one, I found myself, I thought, in the graduate student office in the Howey building at Georgia Tech. I thought I was in there not because to room looked exactly like it, but I just felt like I was in there because of dream logic. Instead of desks it had metal frame bunk beds. Then the one I love came in and said, "Oh, man! You're in hell." Then when I was at the Atlanta Mission last year, whose motto "Ending Homelessness" does not fully convey that they kill homeless people, I recognized Q dorm as the room from the dream.

While that guy whose apartment I found myself in was training with us, James, who may have come to Occupy Atlnata too, I was hanging out with him one weekend and we were with some other dude Sean. James said, "I dreamed about Jacaré last night." I said, "No way, me too." Sean rolled his eyes like was I being a huge douche bag making it up, but I was not. The dream wasn't too memorable, it was a momentary image of the one I love. He was in or near a stream in the woods.

This one was both disconcerting and happy, and I think I am living this one right now, typing this report from the place I found myself at the end of this dream. I was 23 or 24. I found myself in a long canyon and it was night where gray mountains rose on the side of us. I was with the one I love, I could see his face plainly. He was wearing some leather harness thing with horizontal straps across his torso. We walked up the canyon, and we passed another man. He was very vibrant in his spirit, and his hair was vivacious, long and shiny with oiliness, but both of his legs were completely withered and I think one arm too. He reminded me of Kyle Maynard. The place where wer was like a celestial escarment of some sort, and the modd was tense among the very many people gathered there. I got the impression that they were all important people. So the we walk past them and come to a rock wall. He says something like, "Ok, here you go," and I proceeded to embark on my mission to climb the wall. I don't know what the purpose of doing it was, but I started climbing. I climbed away from the people on the escarpment in the canyon and then I reached an overhand where I was having to try very hard not to fall off. Some creature appears, I think it had a face like an opossum, and it had tentacles which it put up my butt. I did not like that all, it was sickening and I did not like it. Somehow I got away from the thing, and climbed a little higher. Then I found myself in an apartment belonging to a friend from high school who briefly trained with us. I did not recognize the apartment, but when I first lived moved to Atlanta, he was living in a house about 800 feet from the house I am in now.

This one was when I was 21 or 22. I was living in Tucson for a year after I left Warner Robins but before I moved to Atlanta. The details of this one are slightly elusive to me now, but I will recount as best I can. There was a man. His face was very strange. It was gray and wrinkly, and kind of featureless, and I now think it was scar tissue. I didn't notice it in the dream, but now I think it was probably the same guy from the other dream with the smoldering face: the one I love. He was wearing blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. I was standing near him, and then like magic from a kung fu movie, suddenly I was encircled by very many men all looking and dressed exactly the same. Then the dream progressed, and with just one of them I entered a big room with a Howitzer cannon in it, pointing out the window. There were many other people there. One who I thought was Jennifer Anniston was probably Elaine, and I think Eduardo was there, and many other people in the room. Maybe there were a dozen or fifteen of us altogether. The man with the black jacket said, "Are you ready?" I said, "Yes," and he pulled the string on the Howitzer, or maybe I did. It laid waste to half the world. It was very clear that there was a line, and everything beyond the line was completely destroyed. Then it got very dreamy and I was trying to follow the man but he started flying and I could not follow him. He spiraled upward and away from me.

A year or two later when I saw pic related on the back of Astral Dynamics, the motion of the person reminded me exactly of that last part of the dream where I could not follow the man as he flew. The spiraling flight was exactly the same, and the background was similar but it was more irregular in the dream. In the dream though, he kept going up where he starts to go down in this painting.

After the man flew away, I found myself in the Tucson Mall with two of my coworkers where I was a vacuum cleaner salesman. One looked very much like the actor Tim Roth, and the other like someone I later knew in Atlanta who worked for CNN. I was very disoriented, and I thought I had woken from the dream. I asked them, "What the heck was that?!?!?!," referring to the dream I described above. They couldn't tell me and I said, "Did Jesus come back?" Then I woke up in my apartment and thought it was weird that I dreamed that the dream was over.

This one was not upbeat at all. It was sad and vexing. It was on Christmas Eve, 1993, and I was living in Rancho Vistoso a few months before I moved to Georgia. This was the first sleepless night of my life, I was up until at least 4am because every time I closed my eyes my mind burned with these disconcerting images. I was dreaming about chess, or thinking about it because I wasn't really asleep but I was laying there with my eyes closed. The white bishop kept coming at me along the diagonal and it gave me great anxiety. When I tried not think about chess, I kept seeing a face. The face was burning. The flesh smoldered with orange ribbons of combustion and I could not make out who it was. Each time I tried to concentrate on it, the vision became less clear. It seemed like the man was in pain. I think that is the one I love.

Shortly before this dream I had been playing a lot of chess with Joe. One day I teared up at how bad he was always crushing me in the game, and he may have been crushing me with his psychic attack too that I didn't understand back then. He saw that my eyes were glossy, because of the tears, but I held them back. He accused me of doing drugs and tried to take me to get a blood test to see if I was doing drugs, but I thin the doctor told him they didn't do those and I get one. I had never done drugs yet, but I started soon after that.

This one was when I was about 9 or 11 and I was living in Sunrise Pointe. I really liked this one, and the tone was very positive, happy, and upbeat. I was in a big convertible sedan with the top down. I was in the passenger seat and I think the one I love was driving. There was another man in the back seat, I think I know who that was too: another important person from the team. We were driving down a wide road during the day. There were buildings on the right and a wide beach on the left with the ocean behind. The road was lined with palm trees, only to left, and the three of us were just chilling going for a cruise. I was wearing a colorful Hawaiian shirt, I think it was blue and yellow. I looked up at the a palm tree and it seemed to lean over the road toward us. Behind the the tree, sun smiled at me, like the sun in those old raisin commercials. Then I woke up.

Years later I was doing Google Street view in Rio de Janeiro and I saw something like pic related pic related. 10/10 this is the road from the dream. This picture is from Ipanema, and I think the one I found that made me think of the dream was down the road in Leblón. In the dream the trees were taller, and maybe spaced a little farther apart, but this is the road.

I think this one was when I was like 5 or 6, and I was in my zadie's apartment in Brooklyn, on King's Highway, when I had it the second time. Three of the dreams that will appear here, at least, came to me while I was visiting him.

The villagers threw me down into a pit for something. It seemed like I had done something wrong. When I was with Emily Hancock, she asked me about my Hebrew name Gedalia, and I looked it up in the Bible. It appeared next to a story of someone being thrown into a pit or a well, or something, and that powerfully reminded me of this dream when I read it. So they threw me down there, and at the bottom I see a little side cave where I can escape their glares from above. I enter and it becomes a cave system. There is lava, somehow I am able to walk on it like it is merely a very hot rock, and also ice, and I move back and forth from the ice to lava, cooling my feet, as I proceed deeper into the cave system. There are stagtites and stalagmites, and the imagery is somewhat like the fake cave system they have built at the Sonora Desert Museum, where I had been already and have been many times. Deeper into the cave, there is a passage to my left. I go through it and it opens into a very large room with a very high ceiling. The walls are dark rock, but the floor is light colored, bluish ice. There are a lot of people in there, women and children, and maybe men, and they dressed in rags. In my mind, now, I call them refugees because of their attire but that was not in the original dream. The suddenly the floor tilts, and because the ice is slippery, it dumps us all into a lava shaft that was exposed by the descent of the portion of the floor on the downslope tilting side of the room.

When I went to Ben Gurion airport last year, or somewhere that had a sign that said, "Ben Gurion Airport," and I saw those weird ramps that seemed much to steep for pedestrian walkways, it completely reminded me of the floor in the big room. The angle was exactly the angle of tilting.

So then I had the dream again in Brooklyn. Just before the floor tilted, I remembered what would happen and clung to the rock wall on the far side of the big room from where I had entered. I see all the people slide into the lava. The place where they slid looked, I suppose, like the fiery mouth of an incinerator. Then the floor corrects itself and some dragons, or some draconians or whatever, come in wearing heavy armor, marching in a single file line. They are very tall. I see that they are entering from another opening next to where I grasped the wall, and I sneak out of the big room into that opening past their feet as they continue to march into the room. Beyond the big room, there is a long cave or hall, and there is a line of reptilians in armor, all identical, marching as far as I can see. Then the dream ended. I think one of the draconians noticed me in the hall, and I have a suspicion that that one was the one I love.

Another time I was reminded of this dream was when i went to a wedding in New Mexico. There was a commercial on TV for "The Cave of Fire and Ice" and, for obvious reasons, it reminded me of the dream. I hooked up with a woman from the wedding that night, and I was with her, Helene had the key to the hotel room changed so I couldn't get back in at the end of the night. I had to knock and wake her up, and I know I stunk like sex. Then the bride got brain cancer and died like several of the other nurses on Helene's small unit at her job did.

Well... as promised, I will begin a survey of the dreams that I remember and that seem important to me. I will begin with the dreams, in chronological order I hope, that I think included him who I refer to as the one I love.

After I noticed that the theme song from that old show Have Gun -- Will Travel was highly evocative of my book I decided to watch the first episode.

Character's name is Paladin, I have a paladin in my book.

Song says, "A knight without armor in a savage land." The paladin in my book is masquerading as a knight in a savage land after having left his armor on the outskirts.

Song says, "He travels on to wherever he must." Pretty much the story arc of my paladin character.

Song says, "There are campfire legends that the plainsmen spin." This is also a major theme in my book.

Song says, "Paladin, Paladin, far from home." This is where my paladin is.

Then I watched the first episode. Paladin explains how the phalanx was crushed. This is a thing my book.

The other character is named Mr. Reid, as in "read my book" after you pay $35 for the hardcover edition.

There was another person or thing "Mr Oxy" or "oxy-something" as in the name of this website: OccATL.

The plot of the first episode is that he has to go to some secluded city surrounded by sentries, and the rules of the city are "no fighting." Seems kind of like my suspicions about my own location.

There were probably a few other things in there, but I deleted it before I wrote them all down.