Saviors Of Earth

The Unification Epicenter of True Lightworkers

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Professional Sports "Bread & Circus" (Alan Watt) (Preview)

Pro-Sports:When they take away your manhood and give you Bread & Circuses, it's "use your own bread to pay for the circus"! Suddenly you see yourself as a warrior for the weekend. It's scientific indoctrination.

H.G. Wells spoke about arenas being put up all accross the nations.

A sports culture developed by the "Culture Industry" for the helpless, powerless, disenfranchised males. Radio came along with sports for the men and soaps for the women.

Super Bowl XLVIII, the Stars and Bruno Mars [a Christian/Scriptural perspective ]

[snips] Folks it is that time of the year again – time for the mega-rituals. We kick-off the year with the largest ritual and energy hijack with the Super Bowl. This year’s Super Bowl 48 will be no different. Because of the selective research methodologies and intuition at Revelation Now, we were able to successfully predict what motifs last year’s performer Beyonce would incorporate into her performance. Therefore, proving this is not just musical entertainment but a major occult ritual. We also discovered the stadium, where she performed (on February 3, 2013 at Mercedes-Benz Superdome in New Orleans, Louisiana) is built upon a ley line, in order to harness the energies of the stadium and route the energy; most likely to an ancient artifact. Her performance was evidence of a correlation between a specific star constellation known as the Silver Gate and mirrored motifs which must be ritualized on the stage, while harvesting sonic and spiritual energy from the crowd. There were also planetary influences such as Jupiter in Taurus. We still do not know what is happening in secret rooms during this ritual. Honestly, I was perplexed to hear Bruno Mars was tapped as Super Bowl 48′s halftime performer. He is not the typical performer whose videos are peppered with occult symbols. I would not even put him in the same league as Madonna, Lady Gaga, or Beyonce, when it comes to occultism. In fact his real name is Peter Gene Hernandez! He is born from Ashkenazi Jew and Puerto Rican heritage. This works out really well that his name is “Bruno Mars” for this particular ritual.

Ironically, Bruno Mars has an album titled “Locked Out of Heaven” and we now know harmonics are actual keys to opening portals and gateways — in the heavens. Why? Because once before Beyonce’s Super Bowl Half Time performance caused a black out in the stadium, Jimi Hendrix achieved the exact same effects with the same variables, in his “Rainbow Bridge” concert. The frequencies of this ritual will be used to activate not just the gate; but the planetary influences used to power future events. Will you not see the irony if Bruno Mars sings ”Locked Out of Heaven?”


Scientifically crafted mental illness - Pro-Sports replaces real manhood

Bread and Circuses

The reason most totalitarian governments have regular military parades is to inspire constant fear and awe in a populous that, without reminders of the terrible power of the government, might rise to challenge it. However another, much less noisy, way to quiet the masses is to lull them with luxuries. "Bread and circuses," as the Roman poet Juvenal said, using cheap food and trivialities to distract the citizens from the real political and economic questions of the day.

For a long time the "circuses" in America were televised sports. People let the excitement of the action and allegiance to a local team distract them from the erosion of the Constitution. And while admittedly more people will still tattoo the face of a second-rate wide receiver on their bicep than would raise their voice in defense of the First Amendment, as media companies charge increasing fees to watch sports on television the modern circus has shifted to the constant feed of celebrity lifestyles. Today we are inundated with the spectacle of every aspect of the goings-on of the rich and famous, given daily updates of the tiniest aspect of their lives, loves, losses, and fashions. So when government officials admit to spying on us, or say "the president had the constitutional authority, no matter what the law actually says, to order domestic spying without warrants" rather than "Freedom!" being the rallying call for the citizens to take back government Of, By, and For the People the announced introduction of the Surveillance State is gladly lost in the noise of tabloid static for a citizenry bewitched into believing the worst part of the news flash announcing of their loss of civil rights is that it might pre-empt Dancing with the Stars. The Police State did not stomp in with heavy boots, but news-crawled in at the bottom of a story about Kim Kardashian.

We have been hypnotized by the notion of Aristocracy. We've been massaged into believing that the highest form of citizenship is Celebrity, and that listening to the day-to-day drivelings of someone who is famous for something rather trivial is much more important than paying attention to someone of intellectual note defending our essential needs or rights. And as for standing up for ourselves we are more likely than not to be met with "Who do you think you are?", implying that we've forgotten that our lack of celebrity equals utter powerlessness. This Aristo-philia serves two interwoven purposes: One, to distract us from news of our dwindling freedom, and Two, to make us despise our own situation in comparison to the glittering image of those with nothing more productive to do than sip champagne on a yacht. More on that later.

And as for our Bread, it is no longer food, but gadgets. Our actual food has had its nutritive qualities bred out, has become the unnatural selection of bizarre choices created for greatest profit rather than health by corporations which have so far bet correctly that Americans will choose colorful, tangy poisons over things that are simply grown in dirt . No, our Bread is now dazzling electronics, provided to us at low, low prices -- prices subsidized by low, low wages for the workers and terrible, terrible environmental degradation -- so that now even the poorest, most impoverished and starving among us can check up on their Fantasy Football team instantly on their newest of new smartphones. We've been bamboozled into believing healthcare, a secure home, good food are the true luxuries which only elitists/socialists the can afford or insist on, and that the minute-by-minute wizardry of technology in your palm is the necessity. We have been provided with a tool that in the main serves as a constant distraction to the actual degradation of our situation.

And, most importantly, as a political release valve. So much easier to anonymously tweet "That sucks!" when informed that elected representatives voted to allow domestic spying. Political Involvement Lite, thanks to technology. In Egypt, and most recently Turkey, we've seen how powerful a tool this technology can be in the fight for economic and environmental justice, and even in a surveillance state such as our it could be very useful weapon for organizing . But only if we see it as such, and not simply rely on it as a perpetual, shiny, gee-whiz distraction. Only if we know that online political participation is not a substitution for physical political participation will the device in our pocket be more than a toy, or a way for the boss or the government to check up on us. Tweets may tell you where the protest is, but don't take the place of showing up.

A means by which the passions – the frustrations and anger of men in particular – are diverted and dissipated.

Strong passions have to be released somehow. Else, they might erupt in unpredictable ways. The state understands this – and desires that strong passions be released in a harmless way – to the state that is.

Enter the modern, near universal obsession – in particular, the male obsession – with football and organized, mass spectacle sports generally. These things are the actualization of the fictionalTwo Minutes’ Hate in Orwell’s 1984.

A means by which the passions – the frustrations and anger of men in particular – are diverted and dissipated. In order that they aren’t directed at anything actually important – such as the ever-increasing control exercised over men by the state. The stifling of independent action, the punishment of deviation from any official orthodoxy… and most of all, the relentless suppression of independent judgment and self-reliance. The systematic thwarting, simply put – of a normal man’s inclination to be a man.

The average man has virtually no real control over his life in modern America. He must Submit and Obey at every turn, from the moment he awakes to the moment he lays his head down on the pillow at night. He must never raise his voice, at work or in public. He must avoid confrontation at all costs. (This lesson, in particular, is really being hammered home to today’s boys – who are told in no uncertain terms by the authorities that they cannot even defend themselves when attacked by a bully. And the boys’ fathers are told they must teach them to accept this.)

He stews in silent, impotent fury as a cop half his age lectures him about “buckling up for safety” in front of his kids. Or as he submits to having his wife and kids get fondled by useless-eater (and probably pedophilic) blue-shirted poltroons at the airport. He must put up with being told what to do – and even worse, what not to do – by smarmy little busybodies, stretchpants-wearing females. From the Parent-Teacher Association to the Department of Motor Vehicles to the Home Owners Association, he is hectored and hemmed in at every turn

He probably can’t even paint his own damn house without first begging permission from the local Gertrud Schlotz-Klink… and if he doesn’t beg permission first, the old bag will just make a call. A lien or some other encumbrance will be put on his place. Or, the thug scrum will come. So, he surrenders. He Submits… and Obeys. He Does What He is Told. And along the way, he becomes something less than a man. At some gut level, he knows it, too. And the rage boils within him, silently, helplessly… . He feels emasculated –because he has been emasculated.

But, release awaits. He can click on the TeeVee and feel – temporarily – empowered. He can bask in the reflected glory of “his” team. He imagines himself to be a part of the spectacle – a member of the community of men once more. If “we” win, he feels proud and strong. He will literally puff out his chest and strut. He feels as though something has been accomplished. By him personally. Because a team of paid entertainers won a game – a child’s contest.

On the other hand, if “we” lose, he is dejected – sometimes, for days on end. He feels like a failure. And, he is angry. But in a way utterly harmless to the state. He seethes, he yells, he shakes his fist… at the enemy “team” on the screen.

Finally, at last – “we” win! Hurrah! He bellows like a Cape Buffalo because “his” team has made the play-offs! Go, team! He swells with second-hand pride – pathetically displaying the flag of “his” team on his vehicles …and even sometimes to the extent of having an actual flagpole erected on his lawn. He wears the colors, he buys the merchandise… .

His ups and downs coincide with the fortunes of “his” team. His social interactions revolve around the doings of “his” team. Hey, did you watch the game last night? What’s the score? How about those (insert here)….. Instead of discussing the things that matter and which actually affect his life, he talks about… “the game.” Endlessly. So do other ex-men. He – and they – know virtually nothing about the events of the day – much less of history, or of what the patterns of history suggest as regards the likely events of tomorrow.

But he knows all about the current NFC rankings. He tracks the doings of his “fantasy” team… agonizing over his “picks” and the possible “picks” made by the ex-men he “plays” against.

He knows – often down to the most exacting and minute detail – the statistics of “his” team or favorite "athalete". Such things are matters of urgent – and turgid – importance to him. Nothing else matters. Indeed, he has time for nothing else. “The game” – the games – take up most of his free time, in addition to the hard drive space in his brain. He is marinated in jock-juice – an ironic thing, because more often than not he is himself in terrible physical shape: overweight, hypertensive… .

But he is a fan – truly, in the actual derivation of that word. Of course, he is fanatic about something utterly irrelevant. Which is precisely, exactly, what is desired.

It has been said that religion is the opiate of the masses. But religions center on values – and so, upon philosophy. In other words, on things that matter. The game does not matter. Fuuhhhhhhhtttttballl worship is ingenious.

All the natural – healthy – emotions (including anger) are stifled – then adroitly redirected. Instead of being furious about having to submit to random searches by an increasingly tyrannical state, the gelded, stoop-shouldered creature sitting in front of his TeeVee is apoplectic that “we” weren’t able to go the extra few inches on third and three. That idiot coach called the wrong play! That quarterback is worthless. It is never: These politicians are worthless.

The jocksniffers are too addled by the fumes emanating from the underthings of their favorite He-crush to think such thoughts. Or to even have time for such thoughts. They live in a happy, soporific bubble of fauxcommunity and ersatz masculinity. What’s the NDAA? The government is flying drones over American airpsace? People are being placed on “domestic extremist” watch lists because they have Ron Paul stickers on their vehicles or have expressed “constitutionalist” sentiments? Boring. (Cue: Homer Simpson).

The game is on…

Roman Bread and Circuses

So, there was method to the bread and circuses madness. Rome survived longer than most civilizations because it assumed political corruption, and channeled it (politicians buying popular votes) towards public works, roads and infrastructure, entertainment and subsidizing food supplies.

We anoint our athletes with names like "World Champions." Champions in what sense? World in what sense? The world of our imaginations, surely, for they have not gained recognition across the globe nor "won" anything but games which have no bearing on the real world.

Professional sports mean something to many. They inspire and delight. I think, if the amount of money involved were a little less astronomical, no one would dispute the worth of professional sports as a cultural institution.

Yet consider: bread and circuses provided entertainment and avoided riots and chaos by making sure there was enough food in urban centers, no small thing in the early days of urbanization. The gladiatorial games were obviously bloodthirsty and barbaric. However, Roman sports such as chariot racing accomplished the same mythic function I described above: they inspired and uplifted people's spirits and gave them a way to feel solidarity with their community. Patriotism then and now was often spurred by such spectacles.

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