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Category Archives: READING MATTER
Books I read & recommend
HOW THE PYRAMIDS WERE BUILT?
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Coral Castle (shown in the photo above) is noted for legends surrounding its creation that claim it was built single-handedly by Edward Leedskalnin using reverse magnetism to move and carve numerous stones weighing many tons. Edward Leedskalnin (January 12, 1887 — December 7, 1951) was a Latvian emigrant to the United States and amateur sculptor who single-handedly built the monument known as Coral Castle in Florida. He was also known for his obscure theories on magnetism. The Force of Nature he describe was also understood by Nikola Tesla. And, it may have been used to move and life block of stone weighing hundreds of tons by the builders of the ancient pyramids!
Edward Leedskalnin wrote an technical article in 1945 that describes the natural forces of the universe that he refers to as “Magnetic Current”. Apparently, this “force of nature” is are the fundamental particles of energy that cause the planet Earth to rotate on it’s axis. It also holds the Moon and Earth in their orbits, relative to each other. This energy is the source of lightning. It is the same energy from the sun that can been seen in the Northern Lights. This energy can be harnessed and controlled.
HERE IS A PDF FILE OF HIS 1945 ARTICLE: “Magnetic-Current_Edward-Leedskalnin_51pp”
“There is only one man in the world who, by demonstration, has supported the claim (that he understood the secret) of how the pyramids of Egypt were built! The man is now deceased. The claim was made by an eccentric Latvian recluse named Edward Leedskalnin. (visit the website for videos and technical details)
An immigrant to the United States of America, Leedskalnin devised a means to single-handedly lift and maneuver blocks of coral weighing up to 30 tons each. In Homestead, Florida, using his closely guarded secret, he was able to quarry and construct an entire complex of monolithic blocks of coral in an arrangement that reflected his own unique character. On average, the weight of a single block used in the Coral Castle was greater than those used to build the Great Pyramid. He labored for 28 years to complete the work, which consisted of a total of 1,100 tons of rock. What was Leedskalnin’s secret?
Is it possible for a five-foot tall, 110 pound man to accomplish such a feat without knowing techniques that are uncommon to our contemporary understanding of physics and mechanics? Leedskalnin was a student of the universe. Within his castle walls, built of coral blocks weighing approximately 15 tons each, he had a 22-ton obelisk, a 22-ton moon block, a 23-ton Jupiter block, a Saturn block, a 9-ton gate, a rocking chair that weighed 3-tons, and numerous puzzles. A huge 30-ton block, which he considered to be his major achievement, he crowned with a gable shaped rock. These personal accomplishments have astounded and surprised many engineers and technologists, who compare them with those achieved by workers handling similar weights in industry today. For his miracles of construction engineering, Leedskalnin received attention not only from engineers and technologists, but from the U.S. government, who paid him a visit hoping to be enlightened. Leedskalnin received them gracefully, and they left none the wiser. In 1952, falling ill and on his last legs, Leedskalnin checked himself into the hospital and slipped away from this life, taking his secret with him.” — from the article by engineer Christopher Dunn (read the entire article)
WHO’S “THEM”?
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“Who’s them?”–The Lion, asking his companions about the soldiers marching into the fortress of the Wicked Witch of the West in ‘The Wizard of Oz’
Do you know who (which specific person) is the exact source of information you read or hear? Like the Lion, do you ask “who’s them?” before you accept information as being reliably true or false?
Information you read or hear is often from an unspecified source such as “the authorities” or “the experts” or “government sources”. If the source of the information isn’t precise, it’s worse than worthless. It may be entirely contrived or purposefully misguiding.
Before you believe what you read in the newspaper do you determine the name of the reporter and the editor who dreamed up the story? Do you take a minute to figure out what their vested interest might be in writing the story? The story could be accurately reported; or it could be a completely fictional, spin-doctored fairy tale. It could be an outright fabrication, an intentionally destructive lie. It could be a paid-for cover-up of a hidden agenda, or merely an advertisement to sell you something.
The point is simple: just make sure the road map of the Yellow Brick Road you saw on television wasn’t drawn by the Wicked Witch of the West before you go skipping off into a deep, dark forest full of Lions and Tigers and Bears and Flying Monkeys!
Our planet is overrun with self-appointed “authorities” on nearly any subject you can imagine. These so-called “authorities” do not have the right to evaluate information or make decisions for you. Movie or art critics are a good example. The only qualification a “critic” has for stating a viewpoint about a movie or work of art is that they are critical. Your viewpoint and opinion of a movie or work of art is the only important viewpoint.
Likewise, just because your mother, the Pope, the President, a psychiatrist (or any other mind-police), a television talk show host, the National Scandal Rag or the Good Witch of the North tells you something is true, doesn’t make it true. Newspapers, television, politicians and preachers are notorious for spewing huge volumes of very convincing false information which serves highly dubious or nefarious purposes. Usually, the only purpose being served is their own.”
— Excerpt from THE OZ FACTORS, by Lawrence R. Spencer
BOREDOM GAMES
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Recently, (during the past 150 years) our country and planet have been taken over and are now controlled by private bankers: The Federal Reserve Bank, the International Monetary Fund, etc., are all controlled, ultimately, by the Rothschilds and a tiny cabal of money manipulators, and power mongers. Nearly everyone on the planet is affected by this “monopoly money” game, created and controlled to ensure that a few elite bankers have absolute Control, Power and Possession of the Earth.
It is easy to feel victimized and trapped by the global conspiracy of private bankers, and the political, religious and military goons they buy with their money printing presses. It is easy to blame or point the finger at politicians, who were entrusted to defend and protect us from financial and military conquest. It is easy to empower others to control our lives. We don’t have to think about anything except the personal gratifications, pleasures, drama and amusements we call our “life”.
However, if we are honest with ourselves, the situation is truly a “co-creation”. We willingly entered into the money trap that has now overwhelmed us with debt, and perpetual slavery to the 1 %. All of human history demonstrates that not much has really changed in this “game”. The tiny minority of the “ruling class” have always controlled or possessed the “peasants”, the slaves, the workers, and all of the natural resources needed for survival.
Philosophically speaking, it seems that all traps — and the money / banking system is just another trap — cannot be sustained unless there are Beings who are willing or interesting in “playing the game”. Investing in the stock market to make your money “grow” through speculation, is really VERY similar to gambling in a casino. A person must be willing to enter into the game, or trap, because of their own, personal greed. We willingly walk into the casino (trap) to play the game. And, of course the “game” is fixed and rigged so that the casino (or stock broker, or banker, or priest, or politician, etc.) always win the game more often than the other players!
However, it is a game. It solves the problem of being bored. So, perhaps we are not really “victims” of the “evil” of financial slavery or conquest. Perhaps we are really only talking about the idea of being RESPONSIBLE for becoming involved in different kinds of games. If we examine how we actually became trapped in games or universes, perhaps we will discover that we really just trapped ourselves! We AGREE to become trapped or to play a game because we did not want to be responsible for creating or OWN game or universe. We were not able or willing to just BE…. Beings want to DO something. We like action, and motion and sensation and drama and not knowing what will happen next! We call it “fun”. It is a game. It is not boring. Ultimately, the ONLY thing that any being is really doing is trying to NOT be bored! So, any game is better than not having a game. Any game is better than just “BEING”. Being is boring…..
AS TIME GOES BY
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“The world will always welcome lovers….. As Time Goes By …..”. (click to play the song while you read the story)
A sad and sensuous melody wafts in from the Really Old Oldies Station playing on the radio in the bedroom. The classic melody melts into the candlelight and steam above my sunken penthouse bathtub hidden in the clouds of a Big City Skyline.
Amber tendrils of her dripping hair draw arabesques on golden skin along the supple curves of her torso. Eyes half-closed, pouting mouth, she tosses her head toward me with a gaze that would light wet firewood. There is nothing in the world but her and me.
Lifting a leg above the water, she rests her foot on my shoulder, stroking my hair and neck, tickling my ear with her pinkly painted toes. She makes me smile idiotically, yes, please-do-it-ically. I tilt my head to meet her foot with a submissive animal twitch that lets her know she’s my master.
Her leg bends slightly. A rivulet runs down her leg, melting into the canyon between her thighs. Her heel nestles next to my throat as she massages my temple with her toe. I lift my hand out of the suds to blow her a bubbly kiss. My eyes follow the ruffled waves as they ripple on the shores of her ample, island breasts. Tiny bubbles swirl and burst beneath her nipples like a tiny, iridescent fireworks show.
Slowly her caresses shift, her slick skin slithers on mine, the tip of her toe traces my chin, the contour of my lips. My eyes loose focus as I submerge myself in sensuousness. I nibble at her perfect toes, tickling with my tongue. She giggles, then laughs out loud. That sound! If it was food, I’d gain a hundred pounds!
“Oh, baby…” My voice is a horse whisper. She whinnies and lets her arching foot slide down my pecs. Her toes dig into my skin, her sole rests on the wild pounding in my chest — she can feel it! Very still, she listens to my heart with her delicious toes. It’s pumping! Out of control, like some menacing machine! We both know where the blood is going now…Shadow, I love you. 
She bites her lower lip. Her breathing quickens. Like a female Captain Ahab, she lowers her boat urgently into the bubble bath scented waves to hunt for the great, white sperm whale.
“Oh yeah, baby. Lower away!”, I say, urging her on.
As the keel of Shadow’s boat rides on the waves of our passion, I hear, in the back of my mind, the voice of Gregory Peck intoning Herman Melville’s immortal words:
“The whale, the whale! Up helm, up helm! Oh, all ye sweet powers of air, now hug me close! Steady! helmsman, steady. Nay, nay! Up helm again! He turns to meet us! Oh, his unappeasable brow drives on towards one, whose duty tells him he cannot depart. My God, stand by me now!”
The perfumed waves mount into a frothing tempest and splash onto the bathroom floor. My Moby Dick rams and hoists the shuddering bow of her sensuous ship until her timbers creak and moan, and then explode, giving way to screams!…the same, impassioned screams that have summoned the wandering souls of humanity into the next generation of baby bodies since the Omniscient Creator orchestrated the first primordial conception of homo sapiens in the dim mists of…
“Bbrrrrriiiing! Bbrrrrriiiing!”
I opened one eye slowly and carefully lurched my aching head up off my desk. Oh, (Bleep)! I was dreaming again! A very moist dream. For the third time this week I’d fallen asleep in front of my computer monitor. I felt like “Johnny Dollar, PI”, in the old radio program I used to listen to when I was a kid, except for the fact that he had an expense account because he worked as a claims investigator for some big insurance company.
I have a lot of expenses, but I didn’t have any accounts. Every time Johnny walked around a corner somebody hit him on the back of the head and knocked him out. He spent all of his time trying to figure out who did it and why. Usually, it was because of some women he was mixed up with. You think he would have learned to stay away from corners.
“Bbrrrrriiiing! Bbrrrrriiiing!”
The (bleeping) phone was still ringing! My answering machine picked up the call. I heard my cleverly conceived marketing message start to play as I looked foggily at the sign painted on the opaque glass of my office door:
The Un-existential Detective Agency of America (T.U.D.A.A.) !
“We dig up the truth for you”
SAM SHOVEL – Proprietor and Public Dick”
____________________________
Excerpt from Chapter One of THE BIG BLEEP, a novel by Lawrence R. Spencer