Comments on: How the Matrix deals with power https://blog.nomorefakenews.com/2013/01/12/how-the-matrix-deals-with-power/ NoMoreFakeNews.com Thu, 17 Jan 2013 16:02:41 +0000 hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=5.2.10 By: vicfedorov https://blog.nomorefakenews.com/2013/01/12/how-the-matrix-deals-with-power/#comment-1519 Thu, 17 Jan 2013 16:02:41 +0000 http://jonrappoport.wordpress.com/?p=3129#comment-1519 1) Are there any means, such as drug use (heroin, psychiatric drugs), sexual behavior, threat, electric shock, brainwashing, depravity,.. that are being used to control television news anchors, and their ilk?

2) Can any Institutions be said to be involved with this media form? Political Parties, The Catholic Church. Universities? Media network? Government? Organizations?

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By: vicfedorov https://blog.nomorefakenews.com/2013/01/12/how-the-matrix-deals-with-power/#comment-1518 Tue, 15 Jan 2013 18:32:50 +0000 http://jonrappoport.wordpress.com/?p=3129#comment-1518 We are all within the constraints of History. Face time with the public is a classical measure of prestige, influence, and respect, (conscious or not). There is a coda of media, ruling the coda of government, deceptively. Anchors, faces and voices of totalitariansm. Writing and newscasters, detach us from the experience.

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By: traci https://blog.nomorefakenews.com/2013/01/12/how-the-matrix-deals-with-power/#comment-1517 Mon, 14 Jan 2013 21:34:16 +0000 http://jonrappoport.wordpress.com/?p=3129#comment-1517 thank you all for expressing the joy and the power of the Word. to celebrate life, like the people in the movie pleasantville who became colorful in a world of black and white… its is good to be alive.

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By: theodorewesson https://blog.nomorefakenews.com/2013/01/12/how-the-matrix-deals-with-power/#comment-1516 Sun, 13 Jan 2013 16:50:54 +0000 http://jonrappoport.wordpress.com/?p=3129#comment-1516 An excerpt of one of the many VOICES of Henry Miller in his novel “Tropic of Capricorn”…

http://readr.ru/henry-miller-tropic-of-capricorn.html?page=14

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It was at Far Rockaway where this took place. After we had dressed and eaten a meal I suddenly decided that I wanted to be alone and so, very abruptly, at the comer of a street, I shook hands and said good-bye. And there I was! Almost instantaneously I felt alone in the world, alone as one feels only in moments of extreme anguish. I think I was picking my teeth absentmindedly when this wave of loneliness hit me full on, like a tornado. I stood there on the street comer and sort of felt myself all over to see if I had been hit by something. It was inexplicable, and at the same time it was very wonderful, very exhilarating, like a double tonic, I might say. When I say that I was at Far Rockaway I mean that I was standing at the end of the earth, at a place called Xanthos, if there be such a place, and surely there ought to be a word like this to express no place at all. If Rita had come along then I don’t think I would have recognized her. I had become an absolute stranger standing in the very midst of my own people. They looked crazy to me, my people, with their newly sunburned faces and their flannel trousers and their dock-work stockings. They had been bathing like myself because it was a pleasant, healthy recreation and now like myself they were full of sun and food and a little heavy with fatigue. Up until this loneliness hit me I too was a bit weary, but suddenly, standing there completely shut off from the world, I woke up with a start. I became so electrified that I didn’t dare move for fear I would charge like a bull or start to climb the wall of a building or else dance and scream. Suddenly I realized that all this was because I was really a brother to Dostoevski, that perhaps I was the only man in all America who knew what he meant in writing those books. Not only that, but I felt all the books I would one day write myself germinating inside me: they were bursting inside like ripe cocoons. And since up to this time I had written nothing but fiendishly long letters about everything and nothing, it was difficult for me to realize that there must come a time when I should begin, when I should put down the first word, the first-real word. And this time was now! That was what dawned on me.

I used the word Xanthos a moment ago. I don’t know whether there is a Xanthos or not, and I really don’t care one way or another, but there must be a place in the world, perhaps in the Grecian islands, where you come to the end of the known world and you are thoroughly alone and yet you are not frightened of it but rejoice, because at this dropping off place you can feel the old ancestral world which is eternally young and new and fecundating. You stand there, wherever the place is, like a newly hatched chick beside its eggshell. This place is Xanthos, or as it happened in my case, Far Rockaway.

There I was! It grew dark, a wind came up, the streets became deserted, and finally it began to pour cats and dogs. Jesus, that finished me! When the rain came down, and I got it smack in the face staring at the sky, I suddenly began to bellow with joy. I laughed and laughed and laughed, exactly like an insane man. Nor did I know what I was laughing about. I wasn’t thinking of a thing. I was just overwhelmed with joy, just crazy with delight in finding myself absolutely alone. If then and there a nice juicy quim had been handed me on a platter, if all the quims in the world had been afforded me for to make my choice, I wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. I had what no quim could give me. And just about at that point, thoroughly drenched but still exultant, I thought of the most irrelevant thing in the world – carfare! Jesus, the bastard Maxie had walked off without leaving me a sou. There I was with my fine budding antique world and not a penny in my jeans. Herr Dostoevski Junior had now to begin to walk here and there peering into friendly and un-friendly faces to see if he could pry loose a dime. He walked from one end of Far Rockaway to the other but nobody seemed to give a fuck about handing out carfare in the rain. Walking about in that heavy animal stupor which comes with begging I got to thinking of Maxie the window-trimmer and how the first time I spied him he was standing in the show-window dressing a mannikin. And from that in a few minutes to Dostoevski, then the world stopped dead, and then, like a great rose bush opening in the night, his sister Rita’s warm, velvety flesh.

Now this is what is rather strange. … A few minutes after I thought of Rita, her private and extraordinary quim, I was in the train bound for New York and dozing off with a marvelous languid erection. And stranger still, when I got out of the train, when I had walked but a block or two from the station, whom should I bump into rounding a comer but Rita herself. And as though she had been informed telepathically of what was going on in my brain, Rita too was hot under the whiskers. Soon we were sitting in a chop suey joint, seated side by side in a little booth, behaving exactly like a pair of rabbits in rut. On the dance floor we hardly moved. We were wedged in tight and we stayed that way, letting them jog and jostle us about as they might. I could have taken her home to my place, as I was alone at the time, but no, I had a notion to bring her back to her own home,…

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By: theodorewesson https://blog.nomorefakenews.com/2013/01/12/how-the-matrix-deals-with-power/#comment-1515 Sun, 13 Jan 2013 16:39:05 +0000 http://jonrappoport.wordpress.com/?p=3129#comment-1515 Brian Williams, “the voice” — with a little “v” and his so-called “post newtown era”…

http://www.infowars.com/nbcs-williams-declares-post-newtown-era-for-gun-control/

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By: David Huggett https://blog.nomorefakenews.com/2013/01/12/how-the-matrix-deals-with-power/#comment-1514 Sun, 13 Jan 2013 04:30:01 +0000 http://jonrappoport.wordpress.com/?p=3129#comment-1514 And don’t forget to dance with abandon too…

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By: infinitecontactee https://blog.nomorefakenews.com/2013/01/12/how-the-matrix-deals-with-power/#comment-1513 Sun, 13 Jan 2013 03:49:26 +0000 http://jonrappoport.wordpress.com/?p=3129#comment-1513 Yes, the Voice! I would add one more thing. Sing – and do it with feeling. It works a lot like the experiment with reading poetry.

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By: Pat https://blog.nomorefakenews.com/2013/01/12/how-the-matrix-deals-with-power/#comment-1512 Sun, 13 Jan 2013 00:41:11 +0000 http://jonrappoport.wordpress.com/?p=3129#comment-1512 Let’s say there’s a “working class” ditch digger. He digs ditches for a living. Let’s say someone agrees to give the ditch digger a sandwich if he digs them a ditch. One ditch for one sandwich.
That is called “Trade”.
Let’s say at some point we all agree to recognize a certain amount of gold as being worth the same as someone digging one ditch and also worth the same as one sandwich. This enables the ditch digger to work for a third party and get paid one piece of gold – then go trade that piece of gold for one sandwich.
That is called using “Commodity Money”.
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Now, let’s say we all agree that it’s a good idea to store our gold in a bank and have that bank issue receipts that we can use in our daily transactions. So, now the ditch digger works and get paid one receipt – then he goes to someone else and trades that receipt for a sandwich.
That is using a receipt as money.
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Now, let’s say the bank is being run by a group of co-religionists whose religious doctrine instructs them to inflict the crime of usury on all others. So they start writing out receipts and loaning them out to people for repayment – plus interest. They also write receipts out to themselves and their co-religionists and they go around “buying” things with those receipts.
This is called “Organized Crime”.
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What do you think happens as a result of that?
Look around.
This is what happens. They own the banks, they own the media, they own your government, they own the large corporations.
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Members of that group have a Monopoly on receipt writing and the governments they have bribed force us to use those receipts as “money”. They also “loan” those receipts out for interest. BTW, there’s no gold in that vault upon which those receipts are based. Those receipts are based on nothing. They are Paper. Might as well wipe your ass with it.
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This crime is mathematically compounded by the practice of charging interest for the use Receipts-As-Money.

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By: Unmutual76 https://blog.nomorefakenews.com/2013/01/12/how-the-matrix-deals-with-power/#comment-1511 Sat, 12 Jan 2013 22:05:16 +0000 http://jonrappoport.wordpress.com/?p=3129#comment-1511 Reblogged this on The Unmutual.

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By: hammerbag https://blog.nomorefakenews.com/2013/01/12/how-the-matrix-deals-with-power/#comment-1510 Sat, 12 Jan 2013 22:01:40 +0000 http://jonrappoport.wordpress.com/?p=3129#comment-1510 your recent writings are just what i need to read…thank you.

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