Keep is Secret! - Keep it Hidden!

by Canadian Author, Researcher, Explorer, Producer
Rolf A. F. Witzsche



It was recognized in the early 1900s that the march of science will cause the final undoing of every form of empire that has ever been created on the face of the Earth. The unfolding recognition of the danger posed by science, sparked the great debate in the 1920s, as to how to protect the system of empire from science. The debate was between Bertrand Russell's idea that science should be essentially banned, and H. G. Well's idea that science should be kept hidden and be developed in secrecy for the benefit of the imperial system. Russell warned that secrecy won't work, because once science takes root in society's thinking, it becomes an unstoppable force that no amount of secrecy can hide.

While the debate in the 1920s didn't settle the issue but is still ongoing, a type of manifesto was developed, an accepted understanding, which is focused on destroying the basis on which science becomes established. The manifesto has three elements:

  1. The destruction of classical culture and education
  2. The destruction of the power of the language
  3. The destruction of music

With these, one can block the development of science, especially critical aspects of science. The assassination of President McKinley in 1901, in the Pavilion of Music at the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, New York, was the opening salvo for the coming war against humanity.

In this war, the science of astrophysics became choked in due course, with the Big Bang Theory, and was placed into a box where 99.999% of the mass of the universe is deemed not to exist, though it exists in the form of electric plasma in space that powers our Sun and the climate on Earth, and every sun and galaxy in the universe. A lot of confusion has been developed in the box that keeps science tightly tied into knots.

On the wider horizon, the war against science was already set into motion 300 years earlier by Paolo Sarpi (1552-1623) in defence of the Venetian Empire. His 'war' was to 'liberate' the imperial system from the spiritual values of the church, such as they were, that typically inhibit the looting of humanity and the rise of slavery.

It is said the Paolo Sarpi inspired the war philosopher Thomas Hobbes, and also Francis Bacon, who are both held in high esteem in the halls of empire. 

Their war on spiritual values was interrupted by Johannes Kepler (1571-1630), the great master of science, and by the development of scientific thinking that had stopped 100 years of war with the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648, which also paved the way for a new type of renaissance in which science flourished, and the dawn of great music began, the music of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms, etc.. In this new renaissance the USA was founded.

While the USA was founded as an echo of this great new renaissance, it was quickly infiltrated by the empire's slavery and stone-coin monetarism. The war against science is wrapped up in the empire-system's war of stone-coin monetarism versus the love-coin system of society's self-financed cooperative economic development, for which scientific development is likely the foremost critical factor.

Against this background it is not surprising that America's pioneer institution of spiritual science, the Christian Science church, was manoeuvred into an internal war against itself, whereby it became disabled as a science institution. It has not recovered from this war.

Against the same background the work of the plasma scientist Hannes Alfvén (1908-1995 - Nobel Price in Physics, 1970) was derailed. He was one of the outstanding minds of the Twentieth Century. He may be ranked one day with Einstein, by his work that widened our view of the universe. But with science having become boxed in, into imposed small-minded thinking, the science of electro-cosmology or plasma-cosmology, which he pioneered, is essentially dead. With it also dies the basis for recognizing the Ice Age dynamics in science, and its extremely critical relevance to humanity with the Sun going inactive in potentially the 2050s timeframe. If science remains blocked on this front, so that the necessary preparations for the coming Ice Age will not be made, 99% of humanity will perish by starvation when most of the current agriculture becomes disabled.

It appears that humanity's victory over the Manifesto Against Science is one of the most crucial breakthroughs that can be won in this age. In this fight for liberty all the lesser wars of empire are wrapped up, such as the war of the stone-coins versus the love-coins and the associated nuclear-war threats resulting from economic collapse, with the depopulation ideology standing in the background. Much rides on this ticket for a breakthrough from empire, and the breakthrough isn't easily won. But it can be won. Science is as much a part of the heart and soul of humanity as is love. What is in the heart and soul of humanity cannot really be defeated and erased, and forever be hidden. 

With all this in mind, it may be useful to explore how the modern tragedy began as an intentional project, so that by knowing the truth, the tragedy can be healed.

Here is a story that I wrote many years ago, so it seems, which explores the war on science that HG Wells began. The story is from my novel, Coffee Sex and Biscuits (Volume 5b), from Chapter 11 - The Time Machine. The story is centered on Wells' novel with the same title.

It was a ray of sunshine that woke Helen and I. The curtains hadn't been fully drawn. Below our windows, that metal roof that covered the coffee shop reflected the sun like a mirror. Lighting up the ceiling from below. I opened the curtains and the patio door to let the morning air flow in.

"Do you want to get up?" I asked her.

She answered, "naye." It sounded like no and yes rolled together. I decided that it meant, no, and went back to bed with her. But in time, the smell of bacon filtered through the open door.

"Maybe it is time to get up," I said as the smell made me hungry. 

She agreed.

As it was it took us almost an hour to get downstairs. Luckily the place wasn't crowded. "Eggs over easy, double bacon, on a stack of pancakes with maple syrup from Quebec," was the fare I ordered, the #1 on the menu.

Helen giggled. "I can live a week on that," she said.

"I could have this every day for a whole week long," I replied.

This set the tone for the silliness that prevailed for the whole time of the breakfast. It seemed as if we had a conspiracy going between us not to speak one single syllable about the mission that had been assigned to us.

After the bellies were filled I strolled to the car, opened the door, and invited her in.

"Where are we going, Peter?"

"Thataway!" I said and pointed in the direction of the windshield. "We are going to Provincetown, a three-mile paradise of beach serenity, a harbor full of boats, gulls, a crescent cove with endless ocean vistas, ice cream, whale watching, and if we are lucky, a bookstore."

"A bookstore?" Helen repeated.

"I think we should get a copy of Mary's famous book," I said quietly. "Nicolai expects a report from you."

Apparently I said too much. She didn't answer. So it became ice cream time and a time for just strolling down the beach with it, wading through the surf, trundling barefoot across long stretches of soft sand.

"I thought you want to get a book," she said when it was almost lunchtime.

We did find a bookstore on Commercial Street, the 'only' street. Everything was on Commercial Street.

"You want what?" replied the storekeeper after I asked. "I haven't sold an Eddy book for years. The last one sat on the shelf for ages. No one wanted it. I gave it away. But you can get them in Boston. However, I have a few on the shelf from the same timeframe. Its from 1890: The Time Machine, by the English author, H. G. Wells. I have several. I have his movies too. Wells sells. Nobody wants Eddy anymore."

"Now isn't that something!" said a man with a Texan accent. His voice came from the back of the room. He came towards us, dressed in white, with white shoes. "Wells sells!" he repeated, but in a sarcastic tone. You wouldn't also have Adolf Hitler's book, Mein Kampf, on the shelf. I wouldn't be surprised if you had, because that's the kind of patriot you seem to be, a danger to this community." He spoke fluently. He stood tall and erect, poised like a man of authority. He spoke firmly and with a sense of power that demanded respect. "This little, insignificant seeming book, The Time Machine by H. G. Wells, is Wells' version of Hitler's Mein Kampf. This man, Wells, the great philosopher of empire, is about the worst and most dangerous fat scumbag that ever walked on this planet. He is an enemy of our country. He is an enemy of all mankind. His name should not be spoken, except in the halls of infamy. A mass murderer he is."

The man turned to me. "Don't buy the book. No American patriot should waste his time on that crap. It's not even honest. And it's unreadable. It wasn't meant to be readable."

"You better leave," said the storeowner.

"Oh, I gladly leave," said the Texan. "Why would I want to remain in this temple ruled by a priest of insanity? There are three books that that have shaped history more than any other. One is Hitler's Mein Kampf that contained the blueprint for the destruction of Europe and the universal race hatred that became the Holocaust, which still blackens the face of mankind after all these years, for the holocaust of race hatred continues. H. G. Well's Time Machine is worse. It contains the blueprint for the destruction of all mankind, a global holocaust with a class-hatred that does deeper, infinitely deeper, than the worst race hatred. This book renders President Wilson's promoting of the Ku Klux Klan from the White House a benign affair in comparison. And that is what you are selling here!" he said to the storeowner. "Be ashamed! And be ashamed for what you don't have on your shelves. The third book that shaped the face of mankind more than any other is Mary Baker Eddy's book, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures. It is her version of Mein Kampf. She was a fighter for the healing of mankind. The book contains the blueprint for the healing of the very image of mankind that the other two books have trampled into the dirt. Of course the book doesn't sell. It is Science that doesn't sell, because it is not yet understood. Nor is the book meant to be a money machine. But it is meant to heal. The way I see it, this bookstore has all the characteristics of a concentration camp for the extermination of the spirit of humanity. It even bans the healer. No, I won't just leave. No, no, I'll hasten to escape this hell."

We left with the man. "Maybe I should buy the book to learn to understand its danger," I said on the way out.

"Don't," said the man. "I'll tell you why. I'll even buy you lunch if you don't buy the book. That's the least I can do to protect sanity in this town."

We took him up on the offer. He pointed out that there is a hamburger place down the street, a place where one can build one's own in whichever way the heart desires. He said that they have it all, from onion rings to mushroom piles, sauteed or raw. He pointed to a green and red sign far down the street.

"I have a place like that in San Anton," he said as we came closer. "I have several of them. They are The Angus. If you ever come to San Anton by my guest a one of the Angus. My prices are far better than they are here. I have my own ranch. I raise my own beef. I have my own butcher shop. My customers don't pay world market rip-off prices. They pay real-cost prices plus a little bit for me. The world market food prices are like the oil prices now. Saudi Arabia gets three dollars a barrel at the wellhead and the refinery pays a hundred and thirty. Between the well and the refinery the price goes up forty-fold. It's not quite as bad yet with food, but the process is the same. I don't sell my beef to the Chicago traitors anymore and buy it back for double the price. The whole town supports me on that, and I support them. But in the World State Empire of H. G. Wells, what I do would be illegal. The laws would be made in Brussels, not San Anton. You wouldn't be allowed to do anything, really. It would be illegal for you to repair your own car, fix your own plumbing, replace a defective light fixture, sing unauthorized songs, think forbidden thoughts, eat unapproved foods, pursue the scientific discoveries of unrecognized truths, and to let your lawn grow beyond a prescribed maximum grass-blade length. It might even become illegal for a person to live beyond a certain age limit. There are 107,000 laws prepared to govern every soul in Europe from the cradle to the grave, with twice more to come. The Nazi occupation wasn't half as harsh. It is already a criminal offense in Europe to criticize the European Union government, even to criticize a single form of the vast array of authorized immorality, or to dare to engage in unauthorized expressions of love. Wells made it essentially illegal to be a human being. And your neighbor will be required by law to spy on you and may be rewarded for his detecting your punishable transgressions. This, incidentally, is already happening on a small scale in the European Union. And guess what this would do as a universal platform to every business on Commercial Street on this waterfront. It would shut them all down. A business enterprise, in its truest sense, is built on the freedom of people meeting the needs of people in the most efficient and mutually beneficial and enriching manner possible. It is a platform of intimacy and universal love. There is little of that left now. This principle is a poison pill for the masters of empire, which they cannot swallow and survive. Consequently they are committed to stomping it out. This is what Wells represents. Do I need to say more?" 

"This is your luck day," said the Texan as we came near the place and began to laugh. "But Wells is no laughing matter," he added.

"Who really was Wells?" said Helen.

"Oh, H. G. Wells was the British Empire's empire-man," said the Texan. "He published a very bad small novel with the title, The Time Machine, which had a large impact on history. It wasn't just no good. It was a philosophical crime, the worst crime possible, which society should become alert to and protect itself from. He was far different than Shakespeare. He was the opposite, really. Shakespeare was concerned with social justice. Wells was a socialist of a different sort. He was a socialist for the imperial class, a socialist for the welfare of empire, a champion of the World State Empire. For a time he was a member of the Fabian Society, but he found the Fabians not radical enough. The Fabians named themselves after the Roman military 'genius' as they refer to him, a meat grinder in reality. His name was Quintus Fabius Maximus. He earned his fame for his strategy of grinding an opposing superior enemy down through a war of attrition, never facing him face to face, but grinding away the logistics that support life, denying the opponent food, water, and so on. The Fabians now target mankind in the same manner, grinding it down, down, and down, to enable the empire to have its victory and rule over the world. That's the World State Empire dream of the Fabians. But Wells said that they were not radical enough. His political ideal was a totally subservient World State: a world without nations, without democracy, without unique cultures; a corporate world in which every facet is privately controlled. He envisioned a planned society with planed science, planned truth, devoid of nations and nationalism. Working on the United Nations Charter, Wells opposed the very notion of democracy. He opposed the average citizen becoming educated enough to become aware of the major world issues. He wanted them dumb and not be interfering and fighting for their interests. He fought for the right of empire to control the world and society to be subjected to the whim of a small noble elite of authorized scientists, authorized organizers, authorized engineers, and others traits or traitors as required. In exchange the citizens would have as much freedom as possible to decide the remaining mundane issues of their personal choice, like the color of their clothes or hair. Wells idealized Lenin as a powerful leader, one who might have had the 'qualification' to lead the world towards the Wellsian hell of the universally dominated planned World-State, but which Lenin had failed to fully envision. Wells disliked the Marxists socialism, which he said lacked the imperial cosmologist ideal. He liked Stalin better for this reason. He wrote about Stain at one point, "I have never met a man more fair, candid, and honest." Except he found him too restrictive, too conservative, relative to his own grand ideals of the imperial World-State. Well's novel, The Time Machine, published in 1895, reflects all of this. It's chilling if you read it correctly. In all respects it really sets up the blueprint for the Lisbon Treaty for the European Union that is to become a European World State without democracy, without national parliaments, without nations, without the people having the lightest say in shaping their foreign relations, without the slightest control in shaping their laws, and the slightest chance to direct and protect their economic living, even their own military. The World State will be a prison for them all, ruled by the heavy thumb of those 100,000 laws and regulations, all of them with penalties attached, and with the USA being integrated into this empire as but another slave. The European World State means nothing less than the full wartime occupation of Europe by the forces of empire, living under the heels of dictatorship, total warfare, indefensible against the empire's whim, subjected to irresistible food controls for genocide, and poverty, social control, and the inevitable final end of civilization. You asked who Wells was. Just look at the world. Look at what is already unfolding before your very eyes of what Wells idealized, and you gain a glimpse of who he was, or as some say, he is."

The burgers measured up to our fancy. In a way there was too much to choose from. In order that I would have to limit the choice too much, I ordered both, the onion rings and the mushrooms, together with a patty wider than the bun, and a load of sauerkraut on the side.

I thanked the man for his invitation, who paid for it all without even looking at the bill, including the extras and drinks. "You are here for the Time Machine," he said as we sad down. "On the surface it's just a simple novel with rather a simple plot. That's typical in the games of empire. The protagonist is an inventor who believed that time is just another dimension that one can travel in, so he builds a machine to prove that this is possible. He enters his time machine as soon as it is ready and steps out having traveled 800 centuries into the future. He finds a pastoral society in this future, a society of happy, simple humans who speak no identifiable language, but seem to call themselves the Eloi. They are small people in stature, four feet tall at the most, pink-skinned and frail-looking, with curly hair, small ears and small mouths, but with large eyes, fair in complexion, and quite beautiful in appearance. The males and females are so equal that they're barely distinguishable. Both of them have high-pitched, soft voices and appear to be quite unintelligent and child-like in nature, living without any apparent quarrels and conflicts.

"The Eloi are communal beings," the Texan continued. "They live in small communities. Their homes are enormously large for their size. They are futuristic in design, but appear dilapidated. The time traveler finds that the Eloi do not work. Apparently they have no need to work. They are living of a variety of fruits that are found in abundance in a vast garden that London has become in their time. The garden is more like an untended wilderness filled with a profusion of fruiting and flowering plants of unusual shapes and types of blossoms and edible things. This wilderness of a garden thrives amidst broken down buildings and enormous structures that had no purpose and remained unused. The time traveler sees no evidence of agriculture or technology, which he feels the Eloi would be incapable of implementing anyway.

"The time traveler is greeted by the Eloi without fear, though with some curiosity roused by his appearance. But the curiosity quickly fades. In order to explore their way of life the traveler disables the time machine and follows them around. He visits their commune, eats a meal of fruits with them, all-the-while trying to communicate with them, which turned out to be a futile task because of their apparent lack of intelligence. Frustrated the traveler explores the landscape on his own. He supposed that the Eloi's lack of intelligence was the result of humankind's past struggle to transform and subjugate the earth through technology, politics, art and creativity, which failed and came to a dead end through overpopulation. So, in response mankind stopped all progress, all science, all technology, even agriculture, and let the hungry simply die until life was easy again and required no work at all to be maintained. The traveler sees in them a society that devolved, that became unimaginative, dumb, small, even physically small and quite weak. With no one fulfilling any specific task the sexes therefore blended in a drab uniformity in which the people lost all passion and distinctiveness. He also supposed that medicine had advanced as he saw no sign of disease. He sees in them an 'empty' society with no hardships to overcome and no work to do. He sees a non-hierarchical society, and it being non-cooperative in nature. He sees a society existing with no apparent leaders and social classes, and no war and no crime. For the lack of a better explanation he attributes their relatively small numbers to some rigid implementation of birth control measures that eliminates all problems that are associated with large populations. The abandoned structures around him suggest to him that prior to these 'achievements' as he calls them, the population had been larger and more productive, toiling furiously to find solutions to make their dream of a new utopia a reality.

"One day the traveler discovers that his time machine has been stolen. He panics. He becomes desperate. He searches for it everywhere. He suspects at first that the Eloi have merely moved it, perhaps to one of their shelters, but doubts this, knowing that they would be incapable nor even inclined to do this. He tries to ask them for information, but confused they shy away. In desperation he sets out to search for it on his own. In his search he soon discovers the other side of Utopia. He discovers that the human race has diverged into two branches. The wealthy leisure classes have devolved into the not very bright Eloi, and the downtrodden working classes have evolved into a bestial breed that call themselves the Morlocks. They a breed of cannibal hominids resembling human spiders. They are mean creatures. They toil underground. They maintain the machinery that keeps the Eloi - who are their flocks - living serenely in a docile and plentiful herd. With both species having become adapted to their routines, they have become distinctly sub-human in intelligence and devoid of creativity. As soon as the traveler manages to get to his time machine, even while the Morlocks battle him for it, he activates it and escapes them. He then travels into the far future, roughly 30 million years ahead. There he sees the last living things on a dying Earth. The rotation of the Earth has ceased. It stopped with the site of London viewing a baleful, red sun that is stuck at the sunset position. In his trip through time he has seen the red sun flare up brightly, and then again as if Mercury and later Venus had fallen into it. Menacing reddish crab-like creatures slowly wander the blood-red beaches of the Earth, and the world is covered with intensely green vegetation. The traveler continues to make short jumps through time. He sees the red giant that the sun has become grow redder and dimmer. Finally, the world begins to go dark as snowflakes begin to fall, and silence falls upon Earth. In the very end life no longer exists on the Earth, other than the lichens that precariously grow on rocks. A kraken-like creature, roughly the size of a football, slowly moves onto shore.

"Feeling giddy and nauseated about the return journey before him, he nevertheless boards his machine and puts it into reverse. He arrives back in his laboratory just three hours after he originally left. He enters his dining room begins recounting to his disbelieving friends and associates what he has just seen happening. This brings the story back full circle. The following day, the narrator of the story returns to the time traveler's house. He finds the traveler ready to leave again. This time he is taking a small knapsack and a camera along. He promises the narrator that he will return in half an hour. Three years pass. The time traveler still remains missing. What happened to him? Where did he venture? All that remains a mystery."

"What's so terrible about that?" said Ushi. "Sure, it isn't a great story, but..."

"As a story it is junk," said the Texan, between bites into his hamburger with the special sauce dripping out at the end. "You have to look behind the story," he said. "You have to look at the story written between the lines. You have to look at the policy of intention. You have to look at the writer and his ideals. Then the character of the story begins to change. The center of the story is Well's ideal of the World State Empire modeled after the Dutch/Venetian/British Empire. Wells faced the challenge to explain to his class how a World Empire that is totally alien in the human world, as any empire is, must react so that it can exist and endure. For this he takes a leap into the future and hypothesizes what an empire that has no natural basis to exist, would eventually look like. The Eloi represent the oligarchy, the elite, the masters of empire. Well aims to terrorize the elite of his day. He is saying to them, you pathetic bunch of clowns wake up, an empire is not a passive thing where the wealth flows in like apples growing in a tree. You'll be eaten alive by the active society that is not standing still, but is always developing itself. Of course, Wells couldn't admit what the real nature of mankind is, or else the story could not have been written as there would be no empire. as will inevitably be the case. So, Wells commits a fraud upon himself and creates the Morlocks, a wretchedly demoralized humanity addicted to machines, mean spirited, fearfully hiding under ground, aggressive, spiders that eat the beautiful people. He is telling the elite, you clowns are too soft. In order to be an empire you have to control everything, force everything your way - you can't even allow the underclass to have the 'freedom' that the Morlocks have. It was a wakeup call for the masters of empire, and the master's responded. You have to judge Well's work by the effects that were intended and the effects that resulted. That's what shaped the entire Dutch/Venetian/British Empire into what it is today. Its operations are secret, clever, deceitful, brutal, dishonest. They reflect everything that is characteristic of humanity, but turned upside down. Its centers for policy are institutes of psychological warfare. It puts a chokehold on science by financing the development of lies and the building of vast networks around them, as in the case of the global warming doctrine and other such nonsense. It turns truth upside down with empty philosophies. It turns economics upside down, promoting de-industrialization. It turns the financial credit system upside down, promoting the wholesale looting of society. It turns the principle of fair trade upside down, promoting the universal freedom of the thieves, called free trade. It turns freedom itself upside down with the imposition of a police state power structure that makes Hitler's SS gangsters look like humane amateurs in comparison. And it promotes total dictatorship on the widest possible scale as the Lisbon Treaty is intended to establish over all of Europe. Its modus of operation is to create division, isolation and chaos around the world, on as wide a scale as possible, tearing away the human fabric of society, organizing fascism. It's second tear of operation is to promote genocide whenever and wherever possible, such as we now see with the dawn of the bio-fuel weapon that burns society's food, and the oil-price weapon that promotes genocide by poverty, as well as the food-price weapon that promotes genocide by starvation. That is the policy of empire that is shaped by the shock that Wells hit the elite with at the time when Mary Baker Eddy was raising the image of mankind to divine heights equal in quality to the nature of God. Wells' shock shaped the empire. In turn, the empire shaped America with ever-deeper incursions into its culture. The whole world now looks at America as the ruling, blundering, babbling empire. But America isn't that at all. Empire is not en element of American culture. America is a victim of empire. America is not even a junior partner of the Dutch/Venetian/British Empire. It is merely the lackey of it, the enforcer, the muscle and financier of the empire's policy of intention, which is looting, dehumanization, domination, and war. Without its lackey the empire would be nothing. But the lackey is disposable if a more foolish lackey comes along which the Lisbon Treaty is intended to forge out of the European block of nations. Once this is done the USA will be discarded or absorbed, and World War III is on to capture Russia, China, and India. They will do it by hook or by crook, or by threats, assassinations, and by total war. War is most likely as these nations are not unlikely to lay themselves down to be run over by the masters of empire as the European nations have already capitulated. Russia has never been defeated, and China and India won't allow themselves to be defeated again."

"It seems to me that the European nations are beginning to wake up to the realization that they have been defeated once again and are about to be occupied," I interjected.

"Are you referring to the Irish referendum vote that is about to become a landslide victory of the patriots of Ireland against the Lisbon Treaty?" said the Texan. He never told us his name. "Is that what you mean with Europe waking up?"

"If what you are saying is true, then the Irish are about to deliver the empire its first big defeat," I said to him. "The empire is flooding the place with money to promote the Yes vote, but the polls put the No vote miles ahead. This means to me that a lot of people are beginning to wake up."

"I wouldn't put it that way," said the Texan. "What you see is the emptiness of empire shining through. At first the empire wanted to impose its dictatorship status on the platform of a European Union Constitution. Most national laws require a referendum by the people for this attack on their nation to be implemented. The intended attack in the form of setting up a dictatorship Constitution was immediately defeated by referendum in France and another country. So, the empire regrouped its forces and tried to impose its dictatorship status through the back door by means of a treaty that doesn't require a referendum in order to be ratified, except in Ireland. And what do we see happening? So far, 18 national parliaments have ratified the treaty, often against deep opposition in society. But when the people are given a voice in the matter, the ratification of the dictatorship treaty doesn't stand a chance. That's what I see. This tells me that the empire owns only the pathetic prostitutes that it can buy, which offer their services for a price in the national parliaments. But the empire doesn't own the people, not yet anyway. By law, the Irish vote should kill the Lisbon Treaty. But the empire won't buy this defeat. The empire already screams in the face of the impending defeat, 'to hell with the law, we'll change the law, we'll ram through the ratification in all the European parliaments that we own. If we can't win with the law, we'll win without the law.' We are hearing this kind of speech also in America in respect to the presidential nominees. With the empire's financial system disintegrating under their feet they are in a race to consolidate their total control over America no matter what it takes before their system goes up in smoke. They know that their system is also the world system and that the patriots of mankind have no option but to put the empire's private monetarism into bankruptcy as mankind's only available option to save civilization. They know that a patriotic America can, and will do this. That is what they aim to prevent, no matter what it takes. They have got to get their man into the President's office or else they will loose the entire end game. But they have come against the same brick wall here in America as they face in Ireland. The voice of America's patriots says no. They truly are in a panic. In spite of the huge flood of financing the empire poured into their man's campaign, and the brutal and monstrous threats and plain vote fraud and other forms of thuggary to knock down America's patriotic candidate, they haven't won anything yet. They couldn't knock down the people's choice. With their most cunning games by their most powerful stooges they have achieved nothing more than a shaky tie. They are so terrified now by the people's voice, especially considering the empire's defeat in Ireland that's written on the wall, that the Democratic Party officials - which the empire owns lock, stock, and barrel - stood up boldly and announced that they'll scrap their own laws requiring ballots in a democratic process of voting as a maens for selecting a nominee at the nominating convention. They announced their intention to scrap the convention altogether and simply appoint their man, or scrap the ballots and vote by hand signal that is open to anyone's interpretation. As Wells put it, the World State is not designed to operate on a democratic platform. It is designed as a state without democracy. Wells fought for a world without nations and without democracy, a world in which the people have no voice, no rights, no freedom, and no life. This is what Wells fought for, and what we now see being cobbled together by the masters of empire. They are prepared to flood the world with money to win this game. This is their end game. Civilization ends if the patriots of mankind loose. Do I need to say more to justify what I said in the bookstore? Every word that I spoke is rooted in history unfolding as a tragedy in our time. As patriots we must fight this. Everyone should be as rigorous about this as I was in the bookstore. And so I put the question to you: are you people up to the task? I invited you here for this one simple question: Are you up to the task to protect mankind against the greatest threat in the history of the world? The Irish vote against the empire can't be counted as a victory. The empire will try and try again. They'll simply attach the dictatorship provision as a hidden rider to something as simple as an admission bill to let another nation join the Union. That sort of thing is already common practice. And so the war against mankind goes on. The Irish people may buy mankind an extra day in which to fight, but the war won't be won that way. The war of empire against mankind is far from over. This means that the fight has to go on and demands all that we've got, because all is at stake, and what we've done so far is not enough."

"This is why we are here?" I said to him. "We are here to find a way to raise the platform for this fight to a more effective level. Helen and I have been summoned here by the greatest patriot in Russia that I had the good fortune to meet. We are summoned here, not for a vacation, but for a brainstorming session to find out ways to heal mankind, to help society to claim its power back. This fight for this healing is our life. We are committed to this, even though hardly anyone else is even looking for a healing. At the very best, most people who think they are fighters, just complain. My experience so far has been that the ranks of those who are fighting for a healing are actually rather thin. We count ourselves among those few, which are far too few. That's a tragedy. If the healing isn't achieved, mankind is lost. The healing that we are fighting for is the biggest and most urgent issue on the plate today. Everyone's life depends on this healing. Everyone should support us, but few do. The only concrete support we got so far came from Russia, and for myself from a few people in India. In comparison the USA is as dry and lifeless as a desert, except for the help of a few friends. This too, is a tragedy."

"This is about to change," said the man. "Give me your address and I'll organize some financial support for you. Supporting you may be the best investment I can ever make. I have some friends who might also help."

"But money doesn't buy freedom," said Helen. "It's the healing that buys the freedom."

"But if the healer is loaded down with trivial concerns, then the healing might be in jeopardy," countered the Texan. "I'm not a rich man. So don't expect too much. But give me your address, please."

Helen took a napkin to write her address down. "But you may be lying to yourself," she said to him. "All my friends who are supporting me in this effort don't have much money, but in real terms they are the richest people in the world. Only those are poor who don't give a penny to assure their freedom and survival. The world is full of those. Many have huge bank accounts. I pity them. They have become imprisoned by their money. The song that empire has taught mankind to sing is: my money, my money, my money - money over everything. It's a prison song."

The man began to smile. He took her napkin and folded it carefully, and mine too. "Maybe inviting you here was the smartest thing I have done for myself all year," he said and began to laugh.

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