Hour of the Idiot. I Am A Child.
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Party Till The World Obeys 2. Pieces Of Me 2. Push The Button 2. Roof With a Hole. Split Myself In Two. Strings On Your Heart 2. Take Off Your Clothes 2. The Monkey And The Snake. This night was devoted to what Ccru called a summoning; but it's clear to me now that it was some form of hideous black Mass. After it had drawn to a close, I had a strong impulse to step outside for some fresh air.
Once outside, I was vaguely aware of two trenchcoated figures lingering in the darkness. Then things started to happen quickly. Before I had time to react, one of them had grabbed me, covering my mouth; at the same time, the other pulled a hypodermic syringe from his coat pocket and quickly pushed it into my arm. I realized immediately that they had drugged me. Sedated but still conscious I was dragged for what seemed like hours through the alleys of Vauxhall.
Eventually we arrived at what appeared to be a warehouse of some kind. I remembered being taken through a series of security doors, until finally we entered a large basement area. It was here that I was to spend six months of shattering revelation. My two rescuers, although it took me several weeks to properly identify them as such, were twin brothers Viktor and Sergei Kowalsky, who displayed all the heroism, nobility and truthfulness of modern knights. They themselves had escaped from a Soviet mind-control facility controlled by Russian Satanists.
After years of being pursued by agents from the most occult wing of the KGB, the Kowalskys set up the base in London and there they waged their selfless crusade against the evil of Satanic mind control. The months I spent in the Kowalskys deprogramming laboratory—they called it a 'safe room'—were undoubtedly the most illuminating of my life.
Their therapeutic regime included hypnosis, drugs, and electrical stimulation. The Kowalskys explained that these techniques were aimed at recovering material buried deep within my mind. They were specially designed to restore the identity of what they described as 'Monarch slaves', a term that was then completely new to me. The Kowalskys told me that they needed to access the alternate personalities or 'Alters' who had been with me since childhood. They said that I had been subject to 'pandemonium programming', a special variant of the Monarch system of personality disintegration, compartmentalization and indoctrination.
The particular numerical combinations of the Pandemonium Matrix, the Kowalskys told me, had functioned as triggers for my suppressed identity fragments. They warned me that digging down through these deeply-compacted layers of trauma would produce inexpressible intensities of anguish. In telling me this they were not exaggerating in the slightest. Over the following terrible months I would discover that my memories were lies, my mind had literally ceased to be my own, and that I had been possessed instead by alien commands, and demons.
Who had been doing this to me, and why? It was only as my recovery work with the Kowalskys painfully advanced, step by step, that I came to understand the sinister purpose that held me in its claws. The Kowalskys explained that Ccru wasn't an acronym at all, but was actually a version of the ancient West-Polynesian word Khru, meaning the Devil of Apocalypse. Once I understood that they were really Satan worshippers a lot of other things became much clearer.
The supposed Lemurian system was really a name for all the demons of hell. Ccru's role as agents of Satanic mind control explained the pedantically detailed theory of trauma they had outlined to me and also their striking obsession with twins. In the world in which Ccru operated, traumatism was the means and twins the raw material.
It was only by the most heroic and persistent efforts that the Kowalskys had initiated me into this aspect of the phenomenon. In particular, it took months for me to fully accept that what felt like vivid personal memories were actually telepathic communications from the submerged mental compartments of my missing Monarch twin. The Kowalskys told me that my recent involvement with Ccru, far from being accidental, was the final stage of a long entanglement with them and the forces they represented.
Recovered memories from my early childhood showed that Ccru had been covertly directing the course of my entire life, education and process of psychological maturation. I had been chosen from before birth, assigned to them by the ancient breeding masters countless generations before and had undergone meticulous lifelong training to perform a special mission. I shuddered at the thought of what this mission would involve. The Kowalskys gradually brought me to the terrible realization that my mission had already been accomplished—on the very night of my rescue.
They told me that, with my mission complete, I had been scheduled for 'retirement' only hours later. This retirement would involve a long and protracted ceremonial death, to be followed by a ritual devouring by the demon Katak.
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A physical death and then a soul death. But what had my mission been? As the therapy progressed, I crossed a new threshold in my recovery, and became subject to a new wave of horribly realistic dreams. It was in these dreams that the awful truth about the mission was revealed. They began with a semi-familiar stranger leading me forcibly into the subterranean labyrinth beneath a tropical island.
After violating me repeatedly in the butterfly position, he took me down into the lepidoptera hall. It was long and narrow, walled by shelves of meticulously numbered jars. Each jar contained a butterfly. At first I thought they were preserved specimens, until I noticed them moving slightly, opening and closing their wings. It was then that I noticed, shocked, that he was standing behind himself.
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I heard cryptic numerical chanting in the background. Then I saw myself standing over a bloody corpse laid out upon some kind of sacrificial altar. Of course, my initial response was to deny the possibility that I could be a murderer. Surely this was some sick fantasy? Wasn't Bill Gates manifestly alive and prosperous, even appearing frequently on TV?
The Kowalskys were forced to puncture this bubble of comforting illusion. How likely was it that this was actually the true Bill Gates? The Kowalskys taught me that the probability was indeed vanishingly insignificant. Not only did they point out all the subtle distinguishing features so that after comparing video images I could distinguish between Gates and his double with close to one hundred percent accuracy, they also explained how for political reasons Gates' continued existence had become impossible.
It was then that I recalled how, every Syzygy night without fail, the same slightly odd-looking middle-aged woman would attend, wearing a shapeless raincoat, an unnatural blonde beehive, dark glasses and an ornate butterfly tiara. She sat silently, observing proceedings, her features twisted into a cruel and complacent smile. Recalling this mysterious visitor later, with the help of the Kowalskys, I was able to strip away the disguise and realize who 'she' had been: On other occasions the Gates-entity wore different disguises in order to attend Ccru meetings without attracting attention, yet he was never without a butterfly jewel of some kind—a tiepin, for instance, or a ring.
On one occasion he appeared masquerading as the black-snow bluesman Blind Humpty Johnson. I intuitively felt it had to be him, but I could not see the emblem anywhere. Eventually I chanced to glimpse into the left lens of his expensive shades and saw, deep in the black mirror, a holographic butterfly fluttering endlessly through the void. It all made a terrible kind of sense, but, understandably, I reacted very badly to the discovery.
The Kowalskys told me that this was probably because Gates had been involved with me in earlier episodes of satanic abuse and that recognizing him had threatened to reactivate unbearable repressed memories. They told me that it would help to acknowledge these previous encounters so that I could begin the process of healing.
In any case there was no longer any doubt about the truth—Gates was dead, and I had murdered him. With Gates' death, Microsoft and Ccru had become one thing. I realized how completely I had misunderstood the situation. Ccru had given every indication of holding Gates in awe, following his instructions without question. Among themselves they would use many affectionate names for him, such as 'Dollar Bill', 'the Gator' and 'Gates of Pandemonium'. He had seemed like a kind of father figure to them.
How could the Ccru web-site have come to generate some of the heaviest traffic on the web, without any advertising or even word-of-mouth popularization, if not for the massive and sustained support offered by Gates and Microsoft? Many web users report that the Ccru site sometimes pops up spontaneously when using certain Microsoft applications.
Ccru went to extraordinary lengths to make sure that their close links with Gates were never exposed, even going so far as to attack him publicly. Now, of course, I saw that the very name 'Syzygy' had been a cynical declaration of black ritual assassination. One twin would kill another. This was typical of the brazen Ccru style—years before Ccru had spoken of the 'Switch'. They had also publicly announced that the Age of Katak was arriving, when the world would be consumed by blood and fire. The assassination of Gates was supposed to initiate this new era. The Kowalskys explained that Gates was the romanized version of the proto-Arabic Khatzeik, the form of the name Katak as recorded on the Black Stele in the ruins of Irem.
Killing Gates was both a symbolic and a practical act that would enable Ccru to take control of cyberspace and use it for the vast planetary hive-mind control system that they are creating. I never really understood their numbo-jumbo, but they showed me that MSN8 was qabbalistically equivalent to CCRU—I can't remember how it worked now, but it was very persuasive at the time.
It was the first time I had attempted to contact them since my healing.
They were unable or unwilling to reply. According to the Kowalskys, Ccru were almost certainly Monarch slaves themselves. That was why they could so convincingly feign oblivion about their involvement in the conspiracy, as if they had no knowledge of the way the secret control-codes really operated. I said before that these are dark days. It is impossible to overstate the threat that Ccru and Monarch pose. My purpose here tonight is to draw the world's attention to that. To open your eyes.
Because to confront the Satanic threat, you must accept that it is here. You have to believe the unbelievable. But speaking as a former Monarch slave myself I would urge caution. To really defeat the Satanists, we must learn everything we can about them. Ccru should be deprogrammed with the same compassionate thoroughness that I was.
Nazi eugenic and mind control experimentation is quite extensively documented. Heinrich Himmler's Lebensborn breeding program, concentration camp research, deliberately induced trauma, and obsession with twins is part of the historical record. It is also relatively uncontestable that, as 'Project Monarch' exposures contend, much of this work was transferred into the hands of American agencies through Project Paperclip.
Later CIA mind control experimentation, such as the notorious MK Ultra program, disclosed in documents released by the agency in , exhibits certain continuities with the Nazi research goals. Soviet-based work on mind control, torture and interrogation techniques substantially mirrors the US cold war activities. Morrison, like O'Brien before her, draws upon random patches of this legacy to weave a Byzantine tale of world-wide conspiracy, in which she herself takes a starring role. Like all conspiracy fictions, hers is spun out of an all-encompassing narrative that cannot possibly be falsified because 'they' want you to believe in their non-existence.
To attempt to refute such narratives is to be drawn into a tedious double game. This is why atheism is usually so boring. Both conspiracy and common sense—the 'normal reality' script—depend on the dialectical side of the double game, on reflective twins, belief and disbelief, because disbelief is merely the negative complement of belief: Unbelief escapes all this by building a plane of potentiality, upon which the annihilation of judgment converges with real cosmic indeterminacy.
Ccru denies it was ever part of the program. It denies there ever was a program—until the deprogramming process introduced it. Deprogramming simultaneously retro-produced the program, just as witch-trials preceded devil-worship and regressive hypnotherapy preceded false memory syndrome. Yet, once these 'fictions' are produced, they function in and as reality. It isn't that belief in Project Monarch produces the Monarch Program, but rather that such belief produces equivalent effects to those the reality of Project Monarch would produce, including some that are extremely peculiar and counter-intuitive.
Within the paranoid mode of the double game even twins are turned so as to confirm a persecutory unity—that of the puppet master, the reflection of God, the Monarch. How absurd to imagine that Lemurian Pandemonium has One purpose or function, or that it could support the throne of a Monarch.
From the perspective of Pandemonium gods and their conspiracies emerge all over the place, in countless numbers. Monarch paranoia is primordially an allergic panic response to seething, teeming Pandemonic multiplicity. Everywhere it looks it finds the same enemy, the Rorschach-blotted hallucinations of the Evil One masked deliriously in its myriads of deviations, digressions and discrepancies.