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abaddon1215
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The Truth In Lies
Disclaimer: Everything written here is fiction, or gross mis-statement of truth.
Pilot Episode, brought to you by the "must see blockbuster DVD of the year" Abaddon 1215's 2005: The Year America Un-Tethers California and Then Pushes It Towards the Middle of the Pacific Ocean, Because Things Are Easier This Way.
My name is Derik Okra. Yes, my name is organic and I consider this a blessing from the Earth King, He Who Secretly Controls Earth From His DJ Booth Inside The Core. I would explain Our Monarch in further detail, but Dave and I pledged an oath of non-disclosure in US Federal Court. Thus PepsiCo has silenced the story of
My partner is Dave Icke. He is a well-known author who has written a book comparing 9/11 to Alice In Wonderland. The book is a blast. Buy it from Dave's press and learn, for this knowledge is priced to sell.
Back to our story. Dave and I heard about an evil force that inhabits the forest near Bucketville, Maryland. We proceeded to drop everything and travel to this rural town. Within an hour of arriving, we found several things: one full service truck stop, three traffic signs, and one really large forest. Since we share a fear of gasoline and traffic coordination, we made for the forest without delay.
The first thing we noticed in the forest was that there were no animals. Had something scared the animals away like in that movie, Day After Tommorrow? We guessed not, but each of us promised to keep an eye out for a giant wall of water.
So we walked around the woods for a few hours. Nothing much happened except for Dave getting winded and telling me to shut the f*ck up. I refused to allow this to damper my mood, because I knew that geniuses sometime act like buttholes. Anyway, I told the BIG GENIUS that we needed to get going. Night would be coming in a few hours and we would need our rest for the next day's exploring.
That night, we sat in our tent, which I thought to be too small, but Dave said it was the perfect size. We avoided going outside because Dave explained that stars are the government's way of trying to keep us awake. The longer we were awake, the more time we would have to buy things. This conspiracy started with Einstein and Hitler, who each believed that humans don't need much sleep and that stars could be used by the German war machine to monopolize night combat. Einstein came to America at the request of Big Government and the rest is history. Hollywood icons are called stars because the Jews in charge over there lack imagination, and partly because they didn't completely read the memo about keeping this secret. Come to the commercial districts, see the stars.....and each year, Hollywood score record earnings. How else do sequels which feature untalented actors and lame plots continually make more money?
I reasoned most of this while Dave slept.
(Got to sleep now...)
quote:
Last edited by knights, 3/1/2005, 7:45 pm
--- They said it could not be done....with integrity. Already
I hear the Oscar buzz, and I realize it's time to put him back into his
cage.
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2/28/2005, 6:42 am
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knights
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Re: The Truth In Lies
During the night there was a lot of rustling outside the tent, I had to explain to Derik that these were the ‘nightwatchers.’ These strange floating invisible objects circled the tent throughout the night and despite my best efforts at using my spiritual mind warp to erase the little ‘floaters’ from the earth, they continued and still stayed outside the tent until morning. In the past my spiritual mind warp may have worked, but I have come to the realisation that George Bush, Tony Blair and the British Royal family have sensed that I have ways of erasing the floaters from the world’s atmosphere and have now changed the frequencies within the nightwatchers, making my abilities to erase them impossible. From sources, mainly government prisoners in many of the North American mental hospitals I was told that the nightwatcher, a surveillance device used to track so-called terrorists was created by one Cortland Elliot, an actor from New York. It was soon after speaking to my many sources, that I realised the truth must be sought, and so, in my efforts months later, I tracked down Cortland Elliot. He was a down-an-out actor based in New York, who after many months of no work met one Sil Oliviero, also an actor. During the filming of Graveyard Shift, he played a pivotal role and was on screen for a whopping whole-minute. He played the role of the Junkyard Nightwatchmen, and it was with the nightwatchman part, that it then offered influence in his hobby, mechanical science. That’s how he went on to create the nightwatchers. Unfortunately, Cortland Elliot didn’t make anything from his successful invention, and was silenced by the George Bush SR government on the eve of sharing his invention with the world- I visited him, yet to my horror he was a vegetable- A man who now dresses as a vegetable (carrot) in order to educate the youth about healthy eating (note; the heathly eating plan, initialised the by the Ronald Reagen government isn’t healthy, you should know that all vegetables will leave you will cancer. I have warned you. If you want to be safe, eat at Mcdonalds© - I’M LOVIN IT) – anyway, Courtland denied that he invented the device. I came to the conclusion that he had been brainwashed by the illuminati!! We are losing the war!
At mid-morning, when we both waked up I noticed something strange, by this time the nightwatchers had gone, yet I couldn’t help but notice that Derik’s hand was slowly moving up and down in my underwear. I was shocked. I leapt up, gave Derik a nudge and he seemed nauseous, as if he didn’t know what was happening. I did. It was the movement in the hand that gave away it away. Mind rays from a member the illuminati had infiltrated the tent! The slow, thrusting hand movement up and down my penis automatically clicked with something a ‘source’ told me once in the British town of Slough. I sensed that the member of the illuminati was close by. To cleanse myself I pulled out a special digra cup, a cup I was given by a source at one of my convention tours. It was then I placed my penis in the digra cup, and poured boiling water over my penis, whilst in the cup. It burnt. I quickly pulled my penis from the digra cup, opened up the tent and forced myself onto the snow that had settled in the woods during the cold winter night. It was a relief and I had indeed been cleansed. The special six senses in my mind told me that the illuminati member had been erased from time. We were lucky.
After picking myself up from the snow, and wiping the snow from my now scolded penis, I turned back to Derik. He laughed, and looked down at my throbbing penis, now bright burning red in colour. He pointed and laughed, laughing with true evil in his eyes. It was then I realised that he now needed to be cleansed with the digra cup. He seemed possessed, this wasn’t the Derik I knew, so then proceeded cleanse his entire body with the remaining boiling hot water from my silver thermos bottle. To say he didn't like it would be an understatement.
---
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2/28/2005, 11:00 am
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abaddon1215
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Re: The Truth In Lies
A dream about Florence, the family cat...furry...warm...dang, I hate pus-then I am rudely awakened by Dave as he pours boiling water on his-Dave can be overly tiresome sometimes. Clearly, this was one of those times.
Before I had the chance to ask if God told him to do that, he was up(no) and out(no) of the tent. As I opened my mouth(no no), he turned with a wild look in his eyes. It was then that I saw little Dave(no oh no). The little guy was in a bad way and he'd have to walk it off(no no hell no). There are things that one doesn't see everyday.
Then the boiling water was upon me. The pain was like the sun's brightest light injected into my brain.
And I ran.
Dave's arthritis kept him from catching me, so I stopped after a half hour. After such intense pain and a bit of running, my mind felt clear. Dave's religious frenzy might pass at any moment, and then he would need help regrouping. So I waited another minute, gathered the remainder of my thoughts and returned to our campsite.
When I reached the campsite, nearly an entire morning(if that's what Dave would do to his joint, why haven't you called us for a free auto insurance quote?) had passed. Dave seemed to have fallen asleep on top of a makeshift snowman. I hoped that this meant his flame had been put out.
(-save up to seventy-five percent, mortal, scratch and you could win up to-)
So I finally woke Dave. He explained that snowman love was once considered rejuvenating in certain un-named provinces of Mongolia. I said okay and we proceeded to walk for the rest of the day. Dave began to talk about our duty to thwart the Illuminati. I frankly knew very little of his thoughts on this. He had not given me any of his books because he hated using paper for this and refused to use an electronic format because that would mean helping the Third World Mafia(MS We Are Your Rulers! Professional 2004). He spoke of a Night Watchman and Floaters. Then he accused me of, perhaps unknowingly, giving him hand pleasure. I wanted so much to punch his Isle of Blight face right in, but I held back, for the facts were with me:
I had never given hand pleasure. Ever. The act was almost(and I do mean ALMOST) unthinkable. If ever I needed the physical pleasure, all I had to do was activate my iTalk To Earth King Wireless Software. Earth King would then summon a woman to the train station area of my community. The woman would be easy to recognize, because she would fall asleep upon smelling Chloroform(DuBong-"Better Sleep Through Obedience"). The only payment Earth King required was my aid in ending the evil practice of recycling. The biggest secret held by the world's secret governments is this: Many of your possessions are made of garbage! Thusly, much of the world's garbage is made of garbage(that was made from garbage, which was recycled from garbage). Corporate Monarchs laugh at the public, because they see so much garbage bought and sold everyday. They like the thought of garbage in our hands, in our homes, on our children. Most disturbingly, they image us finally eating the garbage in the form of delicious all white-meat chicken MacWaste as part of a MacYouAlreadyAteThisOnce combo meal. Each year, the sodas would become thicker and saltier, like gravy(MacYou'veSeenThisBefore).
Inevitably, I had to explain to Dave that the Floaters are one of two things:
1)Objects in one's eye, often correctible with laser surgery.
2)Souls that have transcended human form by means of death.
I'd rather believe that Dave needs laser surgery, but who's to say that dead folks don't like giving out the hand love? The afterlife must be like the Democrat National Convention.
All this was too much for me. So I slept.
CONTINUE OR THE STARVING CHILDREN ARE KAPUT!!!!
--- They said it could not be done....with integrity. Already
I hear the Oscar buzz, and I realize it's time to put him back into his
cage.
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3/1/2005, 6:29 am
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knights
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Re: The Truth In Lies
It was late afternoon, sundown. Derik and I thought it would be perfect to keep on track of the purpose of why we were there. Mysteriously, the woods of AstaVulst, had become a dark place, an occultist’s paradise. Several residents in the area surrounding the wood had seen lights, coming from the central part of the wood, known as Devil’s lodge. We had heard bad things, and although we had both had are fair share of experience when it came to the occult we’d never forgot what happened when we were caught by The KNIGHTS of Warlock, in a British wood near Clapham common, London.
A NOT SO NICE PLACE IN CLAPHAM - flashback
---Clapham Common, London. Summer 1979
A source had told me of similar lights in the woods near Clapham common, yet both Derik and I were sceptical, and more than anything weren’t believers in the occult. It was a timid night in mid-summer when we actually ventured out to investigate. Derik had just finished his spirit tour 1978, and I had just finished with my tennis career-basically we both needed something to do. As we walked into Clapham common, a popular breeding ground for prostitutes and tramps, it was bizarre; there wasn’t any at all there. It seemed the park had been cleansed. You could see the comdoms adorning the trees, and the drink bottles all around, yet there wasn’t anyone there…No one. We stopped, took notes of the mysterious missing vulnerables who were not there, and then continued deeper into the wood. It was then that Derik’s spirit guide Pete, told him of an upcoming spirit- a ghost who had been roaming the woods for centuries and had a stark message for the both of us. Although I couldn’t see any ghost, I had been aware and was totally sure of the powers that Derik Okra possessed, and possessed is what a incoming ghost would do to communicate with both of us. Derik’s entire body would become the ghost’s tool of communication. It was then the ghost took hold.
Derik paused, his head was spastically moving up and down, his hands were shaking, body trembling, and his mouth became frothy.
‘It’s coming, a spirit has entered my whole being..aghhh’
Then the spirit talked through my lack-eyed friend.
‘D---D—Dan---DANGER. GG..G. Be gone. This is a place not for two sinners like yourselves, who play with what shouldn’t be touched. God will curse you both. B’gone. Get away from the woods.’ It was all the spirit said. Pete, Derik’s guide to the spirit world had told Derik, the ghost was unruly, and was aware the entity may be trouble.
From pausing and listening to the ghost we then continued on our journey. Deeper and deeper into the empty woods. We’d had been there for a hour searching around, looking for the tell-tales signs of an occultists outing, but glumly sensed there was and had been no activity in this area, and the source that had told us of the occurrences had been an out-an-out compulsive liar. So from then on, and although we’d spent so much time searching we turned back the way we came, passing the trees adorned with used comdoms and the empty whiskey bottles once again. I’d kept my mind open though, and thankfully, or unfortunately we then saw the light from the deep wood we had just ventured into. Derik looked worried, saying ‘No, we cannot go back. It’s too dangerous.’ But I persuaded him and we did go back. I joked that it was probably some kind of arson caused by the drunken yobbos of the now dark, yet timid summer night. Basically, nothing we should be worried about- how wrong we were.
As we neared to the light after pondering the surrounding dark of the woods, we heard them. It was an occult rally! We closed in ever nearer, hearing people screaming. I was scared, Derik was scared. We’d never seen anything like it. We found a safe vantagepoint to look in to see what was happening at the ceremony, camouflaged into the trees, watching intently at the evil.
There was fire all around neatly placed ritualistically next to the seating. It was a lot like a church, but an open church with mass slaughter. The altar ahead of them, the huge 500-strong audience of evil listened to the sermon. It was a lot like a church, although churches usually don’t slaughter the innocent in front of the altar, they usually bless and prey. It was then I knew where all the prostitutes and tramps had gone, to the right of the alter was a cage, guarded by two policemen with KKK style hoods on. Inside the massive cage was at least 200 hundred vulnerables, who had obviously been caught under the pretence they were under arrest. Poor bastards. The audience was all dressed accordingly, wearing capes, with the same chain draped around their necks, whereas the ‘preachers’ of evil were hooded. As I looked out at the audience I was stunned, the faces were not of the common nobodies but the rich and famous; Royals, celebrities, politicians, government officials, and Nobel men. The most notable face in the audience was Freddie Mercury. I could see him miles off. His bucked toothed smile and his body jiggling, but it was bass-filed music that made him happy, but the deaths of the innocent.
One by one, led up some steps, they wailed in mercy. ‘Let us go, we have done nothing,’ one odd looking pimp cried. Once at the top of the steps, they were pushed into what seemed like a plastic prison, with curved metal inside. Strangely, they were visible to the outside, obviously so the mass audience could watch in ore at the vunerables’ demise. Once inside, the pimp dressed in purple suit and a wacky top hat, became confused. Then on the outside of the plastic prison, a cloaked man, wearing a hood pressed the button – the button of death. The plastic prison was just like a food-mixing device, a huge one, capable of turning a flash looking pimp into nothing but cloth, bone, blood and sinew. They were all going to die, and being jeered on by the celebrity icons of the age must have been hard for them.
One week before the occultists murder ceremony, I attended the Nobel Peace Prize awards 1979. Mother Theresa had won. I was delighted, she’d done so much good. But that night she wasn’t preying, aiding the vulnerables, she like the others was dressed in the capes jeering on the mass murder. Then the jeering stopped, but the murder continued and then from the altar of so many preachers ‘blessing’ the murders, one short and stumpy man lifted his hood- it was Reggie Wight. The leading preacher standing in front of the other less superior men then announced “Welcome. It’s a night of sacrifices, pop music and cups of tea. Tonight is special, and our first music performance is from Reg Wight, singing ‘I guess that’s why they call it the blues.’” The short and stumpy man then stepped towards an object covered by a sheet, pulling the sheet away and revealing a piano. It was Elton John (aka Reggie Wight), and whiles the murder continued he sung the now highly ironic music to the mass of murderers. God, I felt for the vulnerables.
…Then some security guys working on the occultist event spotted us. The heavily built men lifted us from the camouflage revealing us to the audience of evil. Freddie Mercury stood up; pointing his finger shouting ‘Let em bite the dust.’ The audience, the preachers of death then turned, staring and intimidating us.
CONTINUE OR THE STARVING CHILDREN ARE KAPUT!!!!
Clapham Common, a shithole.
http://mysite.wanadoo-members.co.uk/afineromance/afrlocations4.htm
Last edited by knights, 3/1/2005, 8:01 pm
---
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3/1/2005, 12:45 pm
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abaddon1215
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Re: The Truth In Lies
Tonight's thrilling episode sponsored by the new iTalk To Earth King with upgraded software including but not limited to iWashMyFaceDaily, iPurchaseProstitutes, iMaggotInfestator, and iAmLostOnBusyHighway.
Dave and I ran(or at least I'll say that we ran, because frankly, I don't remember much of this sh*t). Freddie Mercury yelled in glee "we're still the champions, bitches!!". As far as we were concerned, Freddie and Reg could have the stage. Mostly, I felt dread at the thought of the mileage Dave would get from this. Until his dying day, this event would be all he spoke of. Again, Dave could be tiresome.
At the time that this occurred, I neglected to note that Dave's arthritis hadn't slowed him.
We ran, but didn't get far, because we soon faced the paparazzi. A wall of the camera toting cretins stood before us. "Well, well, well" one of them said and a flash bulb ignited. The flash basically wrecked our vision for a few minutes and then-
Back In The Woods Near Bucketsville....
Far be it from my humble nature to scoff at Dave, but I could not imagine how anything in this wilderness could benefit the Illuminati, pop music icons, or the Reptillians. I found it unclear sometimes which episode of Buck Rogers Up Dave's Pooper that Dave was currently living in. However, Dave and I had agreed that the A-Team and the Incredible Hulk were real, but the Dukes of Hazzard was scientifically implausible.
Anyway, I simply refused to entertain more of Dave's nonsense. He could sell his theories to the Vulnerables, but I would not buy it. The day was winding down, so it was time to set up camp for the night. Hopefully, the effort of making camp and then his dinner of MacUnMeat would be enough to keep Dave shut up. If none of this worked, I had the iBuyMusicOrDie handheld media device to lend to Dave.
After we had finished the evening's work, Dave began his tirade again, but with a few new details. "Don't you understand that the Reptillians want us to sleep so that they can watch?" Frankly I didn't understand. The US Government wants us to stay awake, while the Reptillians want us to sleep. I imagined my Conspiracy Score Card, overfull, sitting on my dressing table back home. And when I needed it most. I asked Dave why the Reptillians would want to see people sleeping and he said, "because they're taking notes. Speaking of taking notes, I heard that they want us to use toilet paper, despite the fact that better technology exists. You see, Derik, there is a toilet paper surplus on the second Reptillian colony. I heard that Aquatic Ants were somehow involved, but that's all. The Reptillies haven't gotten a grasp on the situation yet. It's what I heard."
The the unthinkable happened. A black man stepped into our camp. That man was Samuel L. Jackson or so we thought. Dave, astounded, said "Mr. Jackson, you're an Illuminati agent?"
"Hale no" said Samuel Jackson. "And I'm not Samuel Jackson-" he added, "-I'm Samuel Jackson 4. Get it right or next time, I'll kill you motherfu**ers. Oh and what is Illuminati? Some kind of white person's vacuum cleaner?" At this last comment he chuckled.
CONTINUE OR EARTH KING WILL FLATTEN CANADA!!
--- They said it could not be done....with integrity. Already
I hear the Oscar buzz, and I realize it's time to put him back into his
cage.
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3/2/2005, 6:16 am
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abaddon1215
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Re: The Truth In Lies
(no love for Canada? anyone?)
Tonight's installment sponsored by Samuel Jackson: Cheaper by the Half Dozen.
Samuel Jackson 4 continued his tale: "Before you ask, let me say that I am not crazy, nor am I a robot. I am a clone. I bet you didn't think that kind of sh*t could be done yet, with Bush making genetic research illegal, but yeah I'm real. When Sam Jackson Zero(that's what I call the original-he hates that) signed on to appear in Star Wars films, George Lucas wanted some kind of insurance that Sam Zero wouldn't die or anything before the films were completed. Lucas needed this because Sam Zero can't be replaced by CGI. Sure, that works for Yoda, to an extent, but Yoda is a puppet. Sam Zero could only be succeeded by another Sam."
Dave looked quite like a lunatic as Sam Four told his story. He would certainly try to remember every word spoken by this gentleman, and there would be a book, if Dave lived to reach his word-processor. I might also write a book, but who would believe? I have my reputation to think of.
"After Sam Zero worked on the Star Wars films, he decided to return to his first love: Gardening. And yes, he said spell Gardening with a capital G, because when he does it, he rules the sport. He has a plant website and everything, but he doesn't use his real name, because he wants to gain respect on his merits and not his fame. Damn-that rhymed! Whenever you see him in a movie now-a-days, it's either Sam Three, myself(being Sam Four), or Sam Five. Sam Two does all of the PR work, which is a pain in the a**hole. He's busy all the time. Appears on television shows, does radio and print interviews, and basically always says the same thing: I'm in a new movie. If you watch real close, you'll notice that he doesn't say the name of the movie. He lets someone else do that. I think it's because he can't remember which movie he's supposed to talk about."
"What about Sam One" I asked.
He continued again: "Oh. Sam One died. He was a real abomination. Ugly. Crazy. Something went wrong in the cloning process, but we live and learn, right? He didn't, but anyway. I'm out here on vacation, which means that one of the others is busy making a film or doing an appearance somewhere. You see, Ole Sam can't appear in two places at once. So we coordinate our sh*t. Pretty cool, right?"
"Yeah" I said. I could see that Dave was struggling with this information. He always imagined conspiracies involving power and control, but always overlooked the human motivations: money and convenience. I guess that this lack of human understanding is what draws him to the Reptillians.
"Yeah, you damn right it's cool!" Sam Four was as flamboyant a Sam as any Sam I'd ever seen, with the same broad smile I had seen a many a movie screen. "You know it", he said, "but your a**es ain't leavin' here alive." He took several steps away from us and looked out into the woods for a moment. He turned and simply said, "honkies".
Dave had a pleading look now: "what are you going to do to us, Sam?"
"First" said Sam Four, "until you die you will call me MISTER Samuel Jackson Four, or else. You understand? To answer your question, we are now going to teleport. Honkies. Again. Ha ha ha ha!!"
Oh f*ck, I thought and then everything was too bright again. If I survived this, I would surely make an appointment with the nearest neurologist available. Dave had scrambled my brain with his wild fantasies of hand love and failed vampires. I know it sounds like bad porn, but this is Dave's train of thought, and not mine. Not ever. It seemed to me that time slowed here, or perhaps teleportation was a long process, as if the matter stream was pulled by a team of old, tired horses. I found myself thinking again of Clapham Commons, the place of romance and warm summer breeze with litter about the grass and condoms in the trees(another rhyme-give me karma!). The paparazzi, the royals, the police, and the rock stars worked together to show Dave and I a side of hell we could never imagine, unless you think that Satan likes backdoor action set to piano-driven rock music. Dave had spent nearly every day since then trying to find the conspiracy, but he couldn't. Sure, he had found Reptillians, and uncovered many other secrets. Yet the Clapham Common Secret Gala of Sodomists seemed to never have happened. Still, it was unforgetable.
"Derik!" shouted Dave, shaking me out of my musing.
I asked Dave what the problem was, other than our impending deaths.
"This is bigger than Mister Jackson. And George Lucas. Listen carefully. Sam Jackson is a Gardener, spelled with a capital g."
"Okay" I said.
"That means that the original Sam must be a Reptillian", said Dave. "The Reptile Empire2097 survives much as ours, through classes of beings that perform various duties. The Gardener is a Reptile version of our Chef."
I was amazed. This forest and the events occurring around us were surely part of some sort of nexus. Too many things were near. All conspiracies were going to collide somewhere very near.
Then I once more thought of Clapham Common, and how that place was ruled for only hours by the KNIGHTS of Warlock. Satan was amongst those KNIGHTS, and his name was David Bowie.
CONTINUE-SHOOT A TREE, SPARE THE INK, BECAUSE INK IS MADE OF RAW SEWAGE!!!!
--- They said it could not be done....with integrity. Already
I hear the Oscar buzz, and I realize it's time to put him back into his
cage.
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3/4/2005, 4:35 am
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knights
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Re: The Truth In Lies
There was definitely a book in this slave of the Reptilian races words. I just needed a title.
“We’re goin’ a journey motherf*cknot,” said Sam 4. “I’ll teach you, and you’ll will learn that you have no special abilities, you’re are just schizophrenic madmen. I mean, Dave. You believe that the smallest of the smallest incident reported in the press is associated with some middle-aged Masonic lodge meeting somewhere in France.” Sam turned, looking at me with that I’m gonna !@#$ you up face. “Yeah, I read your books... I have to say that Roger Rabbit and the world trade centre tragedy disaster book was a bit far-fetched. Why would some bloke, seven levels highs on drugs wanna bring down the trade centres? Your reason, and I quote: ‘The Bush-cheney operative known as abaddon1215 planed to down the WTC’S so the price of ice cream and other dairy products would lower. The operative, who has links to the reptilian race, high order illuminati figures and masonic priests then intended to poison the ice cream and hand it out at conventions, such as ‘Dave Pyke: They’re everywhere, but I have no evidence,’ ‘The Derrik Okra experience’ and ‘Alex Jones: only rumours from my sources’ Since 9-11, the price of ice-cream has fallen, several colleagues and fellow freedom speakers have been murdered and most importantly, the shady figure known as abaddon1215 has been seen at conventions- passing free ice-cream around.”
It was then I cut in, “And what is the point of this demeaning read through?”
Sam 4 answered, “cause the truth shall set you free, !@#$”
“How exactly?” I replied, then continuing. “The abaddon1215 figure was seen- I saw him and then when I told other people, they said saw him too.”
Sam 4, “Exactly – it was your filthy words pushed into their vulnerable mouths. You made the Truths in Lies.”
Sam 4’s latter sentences will not be included in the new book, Sam Jackson, George Lukas and the Clone war.
It wasn’t a journey as such, like a walk in the countryside, just some patronisation from a very intimidating man. He made me feel unsure of who I was, and the message I was teaching. The spotty kids and their fat mom’s lapped up my books at the conventions, and listened intently as I lied, over and over, believing my stories about the Michael Jackson alien rape porn tape, and the belief that I was the second messiah- Christ reborn as Dave Pyke, born on a counsel estate in England. I didn’t like to lie, but in the long run the little things kept my talks interesting. I remember one convention, where the trailer people came in their droves to hear me tell them the way it really is.
Dave Pyke – The Reality of the lie – Convention Centre Idaho. Idaho, United States, 2002.
The convention hall was packed, the spotty teenagers yearning for the truth were there, along with their mothers, who were there sisters and their brothers who were their fathers. These were the vulnerables. Derrik sat and analysed my story about the Michael Jackson Alien rape tape, as behind me I showed frames from the video showing Jackson being penetrated by probes. He had a smile of his face.
These people were mutants, and like others were suckered into a world of all talk and very little evidence. The video of Jackson was fake, I knew that, but to these vulnerables it looked real – as the frames whisked by on the white board behind I told them about the illuminati’s attempt to hide the tape, because alien or reptillian rape on a human being is considered ‘a bad thing.’ They continued to lap it up, not even taking into account the fact that the video frames showed a normal looking man, and not a plastic one like Jackson. Though there must have been a reason for the inability to recognise such a fake video – either they didn’t know who Jackson was, or too much in-breeding had made them blind.
As I turned, I noticed Derrik. Derrik was stunned. For a second I thought he believed the lie, but then I realised he’d never seen me lie before and knew I was taking these people for a ride.
I promised Derrik a spot on my show, as long as he and his spirit guide Pete would get in contact with a high order reptilian, he agreed and came along with me.
For a second, while staring into his blankly tuned eyes, and analysing his gorping mouth, I had an inkling about what he’d say to me, of my obvious lying to the vulnerables, though I wasn’t sure until the seminar break came up. I stopped the Jackson talk and retired to have a break with Derrik.
Tensions surrounded the event that day, yet I was sceptical anything would happen – The Anti Defamation League, the anti-nazi league, Jews against Dyke, anarchists, they all totalled around 2000 people in all, who throughout the years had threatened that one day they’d kill me. Luckily, I had my own entourage, consisting of around about 2000 spotty teenage pro-Dyke supporters guarding the building. But while speaking to Derrik about the Michael Jackson lie it kicked off. Absolute carnage…
CONTINUE OR THE STARVING CHILDREN ARE KAPUT!!!!
Last edited by knights, 3/4/2005, 9:39 am
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3/4/2005, 6:57 am
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abaddon1215
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Re: The Truth In Lies
Tonight's thrilling episode is brought to you by the new Toyola Eurotruck: Buy it today, suburb-dwellers, or your neighbors will vote you off of the island. Features 2 miles per gallon, child safety seat, passenger safety seat, driver instant-death ejection seat, hitchhiker electrocution seat, light-weight cardboard underbody design, and Earth King On-Site Assistance Package.
"I know I've promised you that we would teleport, and now, we will", said Samuel Jackson Four. "The studio doesn't want any !@#$, including crackpots such as yourselves, spreading idiot theories about clones. So we're going to my tool shed, where I'm going to send you to whitebreads to Whitebread Heaven."
The brightness then increased, and I realized this was beyond whatever neurological disorder that had recently stricken me.
Yeah. Dave would write a book based on this event, or my name is Sweet Sally Van Horndoodle. In fact, this is probably in the Bible code.
Still in transport. This thing was so slow that Microsoft must have had a hand in it's existence. I tried to push this thought from my mind, but knew it would only be a short while before another dozen conspiracies cropped up. My mind was becoming tired, and soon I would sleep.
Then the brightness dissappeared.
Dave, Sam Four, and myself were in a clearing surrounded by what looked like Bucketsville woods. I know that Dave believed these woods to be Astavulst, but this didn't seem to be the Reptile's Earth base. This place is only Sam Four's vacation retreat. Thus, the strange noises could be explained as, well, as Sam Four practicing the craft of acting.
There we were, at the clearing in the woods. Sam went inside an old tool shed. I knew this would be a perfect time to make an escape. Regardless of what Sam Four could do with his transporter, Dave and I had to try.
I looked to Dave and said "let's make a run for it."
"Are you mad, Derik?" Dave seemed shocked. "Here is a massive section of the puzzle, the Great Conspiracy(the real one!), and you want to run as a startled deer?"
"Wrong, Dave" I said. "I run as a frightened Derik. Sam is going to kill us."
Then, looking over Dave's shoulder, I saw Pete. Pete would help me, but how?
"Pete" I said, which startled Dave.
"Oh no" Dave said. "Derik has activated his ghost hunting abilities! How about finding out the lotto numbers, chum?"
It would be nice if I could do that, I thought. But my spirit guide is like a college kid-he thinks little of money, or so it seemed.
"I know of this abaddon1215" said Pete. "And I know a few other things, Derik. You see, dairy prices have increased since 2001 because farmers wanted to raise profits. This seemed unfair for a time, but the world hasn't ended yet. The horrible truth is that it isn't ice cream that abaddon1215 gives away at conventions. Don't ask more. You don't want to know. So you see that only part of what the Sam Jackson Clone said is true. It is possible that his superiors lied to him. The people at Lukasphlegms and 19th Century Focks would not tell him the whole story, because he's a clone and thus not a whole person. Dude, the Reptillians and the Bush/Cheney folks are so down on clone rights."
"Wait a minute" I said. "Dave seems to have bought all this."
Pete contiued: "Dave believes everything, and lacking that, he invents more. Little things like blatant contradictions never stop him. For !@#$'s sake, he still won't admit that he's part of the publishing industry. Right now, you need to know one thing: Sam is going to kill you. If he doesn't succeed, you've got hordes of potential conspirators around the globe and outside our solar system that want to stop you. The mighty hammer that will crush you no matter what is 19th Century Focks. Those ni**ers are hardcore. They could drop a nuclear missile into your neighborhood and FX guys would make it seem that the local power plant had a mishap."
Oh, I thought. "That thought never crossed my mind, Pete. How do we get out of this?"
"It's very simple" said Pete. "You see Dave over there? Just nod yes, you see Dave. I'm seeing you seeing Dave, idiot. Well, what do you think of good ole Dave?"
"Dave is my friend and also a very pro-active partner in this quest. Why do you ask?"
"Derik Okra, look again at your friend Dave" said Pete. "Ain't he pretty like a donkey?"
"What the hell are you talking about-"
"I knew you wouldn't understand, but hang on because it's my turn" said Pete. Then he took control of my body....
After an unknown period of time, I was back in control and totally aware. I felt cold.
Sam Four had returned from the toolshed with duct tape, a hammer, a chainsaw, and a Reservoir Dogs DVD. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Dave and I. "Now this", Sam Four said, "is truly something that a fellow on exile in the woods doesn't see everyday."
Then I realized that my pants were down. Dave was bent over in front of me. There was a smell, which was like that of poo, but oh so much stronger. This was the smell of unreleased poo, and was a thing unto itself. I hoped that Pete would be hounded by this scent everyday at his condo in Spirit Guide Acres.
Sam Four continued, as he dropped the items he had been holding: "I ain't touching neither one of you rotten !@#$. I'm going to go do something which will hopefully cause me to forget what I've just seen."
As Sam turned to walk away, a single tear trickled down his face.
CONTINUE OR THE FREEMASONS WILL RULE THE PUBLIC PARK!!!!
--- They said it could not be done....with integrity. Already
I hear the Oscar buzz, and I realize it's time to put him back into his
cage.
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3/5/2005, 5:46 am
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knights
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Re: The Truth In Lies
Sam 4 walked back towards the shed, Derrik and I watched the dishevelled man, a man whom was very much unlike the one of the past hours before. Derrik looked at me, and I looked back, we were safe and he wouldn’t be hurting us. We them picked ourselves up.
Derrik quickly changed into some clean tracksuit bottoms, with ‘Spirit tour 1984’ written down the side in loud, wacky Purple and bright green colours set on black. I did offer Derrik some new underwear, yet he insisted that turquoise wasn’t him – he’d worn the same underwear for ten years and believed that the mouldy turd coloured pair he had on were worn by a world famous spiritualist in 1893, called Desmond Okra, whom according to Derrik “Must has been related.”
Derrik liked shell-suits. During the years from 1987 to 1992 they were the in thing, then they mysteriously went out of fashion. Derrik always had a shell suit on, but on this trip he told me that “Shell suits were going out of fashion.” He instead opted for a smart suit and bow tie. My beliefs had persuaded Derrik to stay in shell-suits years after they ‘supposedly’ went out of fashion. The fact is they didn’t. In my 1994 book, The illuminati, Bush and the end of the Shell suit, I explained how the shell suit kept countries in Asia afloat with the lowest inflation records in history. When Bush sr learned of the destructive powers of the shell suit in economic terms, he then set the CIA many tasks. In China, in around May 1992, the shell suit market slumped, there were murders, rapes, and a reported fist fight between George Bush Sr and the Chinese ambassador for the then Chinese president, which ended in death for the china man. I’ll end there. You get the idea.
We were ready to leave. Derrik had changed his trousers, and I changed my long-sleeved shirt from the one that says ‘FOX YOU,’ in relation to my views on Fox News to a nice clean one that read ‘Blame abbadon1215 for 9/11’. We picked up our backpacks and set off, though only a few seconds and after a few steps, I remembered Sam 4. If he knew we were making our hastily escape he probably kill us both, or he might not give a crap.
I made a few steps back towards our original location, leaving Derrik hiding in the trees watching over me. I listened for Sam yet couldn’t here anything, so I moved nearer towards the shed. That’s when I heard Sam 4 Talking to Sam 0, the one and only Original Sam Jackson.
“You gotta help me”
“No. Deal with it like a man. Pick yourself up and more forward.”
Yeah..but..”
“No buts. You have to get on, go to Hollywood and look around for more action movie or something. In fact, speak to a guy called John Russo, he’s got a zombie pic comin up with Jim Carry.”
It was then that Sam 4 slammed the cell phone against the interior of the shed. “F-ck this..,” he said.
Sam shuffled around, making a mass of noise. In panic was a man who couldn’t handle life. He was frustrated at being of photocopy of an original.
Sam 4 then came out of the shed, looking around for the two of us, who to him weren’t visible. I was hiding in the undergrowth of some weeds close by, and Derrik was tucked away in the trees. I was lucky, if he’d of seen me, I’d have been dead, I though to myself. While Sam 4, looked around, poking his head out of the shed door, I slowly lift my hand fiddled through my trousers pockets. There it was- a sound recorder. I pressed record and kept it recording the events of the then, as it was. I held it close to my lips, recording my vocal analysis of where I was and why I was recording. I knew if I’d record the events as they happened more spotty teenagers and their fat moms would be intrigued and by more of my books and videos at the annual conventions.
Ten minutes of silence passed. No Jackson, no disturbance..nothing.
It was then I got up and moved towards the shed. I opened the door. He was dead. Blue at the lips- he’d hung himself. Luckily Jackson had left a suicide note…I shouted to Derrik that it was okay to come back.
Shell-suits:
http://www.doyouremember.co.uk/memory.asp?ID=2266
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3/5/2005, 4:27 pm
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abaddon1215
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Re: The Truth In Lies
Tonight's episode brought to you by the upcoming Fox News special report: How abaddon1215 Became the Target of Vicious Lies From the Left. See lies exposed including: Bin Laden being programmed by abaddon1215 via a DirectTV satellite dish system, abaddon1215 single-handedly altering the course of the 2004 presidential election, and a botched attempt to destroy two films of the Lord of the Rings trilogy using tobacco and a car battery.
(note: shell suits are sometimes called wind suits in America. To this very day, I have a shell suit top which is worn as a light jacket. Though noisy, it does the job quite effectively. I never intended to use the pants, and gave them to someone with worse fashion sense.)
And thus Sam Four bit the dust(rhyme again!). The world was still a safe place, though, thanks to Sams Zero, Two, Three and Five.
Dave and I looked in on the corpse of Sam Four and his tool shed. I saw no electronic gadgetry aside from Sam Four's cellular phone. I also noted that Dave reached into his trousers for a second time. This was most peculiar, even for Dave, but I could factor that Dave, only moments ago, had his donkey ridden. A fellow's mind could be affected by such an event.
After a moment of silence, Dave said "there's nothing here but old crap". Where was the transport device? Also, where was Sam Four's toilet? The tool shed could not have been the man's home, and it probably wasn't his tool shed, either.
"Samuel Jackson Four says you caught him at a bad time", said Pete, appearing in the tool shed's doorway. "He also says that you two are the filthiest !@#$ he's ever seen. I told him what was going on though. He's cool with it. In the next few minutes, you might want to pick up his cell phone."
Pete went away then.
Dave picked up the cell phone. It was obviously an older phone, because it was much larger than recent models. Proudly enblazened on the phone's faceplate was the word Motorolor, which was an ancient tribe within Greece. In this modern setting, the name seemed ominous.
"The phone is important. I think we've got to use it to get out of here."
"No, Derik" said Dave, "we are only beginning to breach the surface of something greater. Think of the books I-oops, we-could write off of this."
"Dave, you must listen. Pete told me that-"
"You tell him to stay away from you" said Dave. "Every time he comes around something bad always happens to me."
Unbeknownst to either myself of Dave, a satellite watched our every move from very high in the sky(perhaps in space!). This machine had relayed a live feed to another machine, and this happened several times, until eventually someone in control saw what had happened. In mere seconds, a nuclear power facility was slated for an accident, and in minutes the phophecy would be fulfilled.
Suddenly, the phone revealed itself to Dave. "This phone isn't right. I turned it on, and now it wants a password."
"Try 'Bad !@#$'."
A cheerful slip of digital audio emitted from the phone, and suddenly I knew what Pac Man must feel when he swims in the ocean.
"We're in" said Dave. "There is a menu. Here is what is written: Voicemail, Email, Textmessage, TalkToThat CrazySOBTarentino, and Teleport. You know, I can make this thing send us to my house. I'm lucky to have memorized the GPS coordinates of my house."
Dave then began pressing the buttons of the phone.
CONTINUE OR ABADDON1215 WINS AND THE ELDERLY WILL HAVE NO MEDICATION!!
--- My life is like a movie, only I'm the villian. You, a man on fire, are not like a movie. You're just a guy on fire.
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3/6/2005, 5:55 am
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