Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Rated PG-13

(for Pretty Groovy / Should Laugh at Least 13 Times)

I guess you’d have to call it a perfect moment… a convergence of my actually having the time to write an article (or should I say, making the time) and a “good cop, bad cop” set of emails impacting simultaneously, both criticizing my lack of visibility on this website and impatience for the arrival of the makeover.  My bad. 

Since we’re so close to being done with the complete site makeover now, for those of you who have been really paying attention I’m going to pre-empt the announcement that was originally scheduled for the site’s release… and what the heck, I’m going to do it in old-school Wilcock fashion — as part of a rambling, tangential, fun-packed “story of my life” so we can pass the cup of bitterness around until we all start laughing so hard we don’t even taste the stuff anymore.  So for those not on my Yahoo discussion group (which will probably be imported to a PHPBB server on the new site before long), where did we last leave off?

OK, I think I’ve got a good idea. Let’s rock this thing… I do, after all, enjoy talking about myself when someone cares to listen, even with how intensely political it has become for me to express a public opinion on anything… (ah, yes, discussion groups, there’s 800 people in mine) and I definitely do not like politics.  The more publicity you get the harder it becomes to have a “normal” life, I have found.  Hence in a burst of nostalgia, this Saturday I will be working all day at an (organic, mind you) hot-dog stand for the Local Harvest Market here in Madison, IN for the Chautauqua festival, and give my direct support for a cause I believe in — namely the survival of my new favorite place to shop! 

A health food store within spitting distance of Northern Kentucky (spelled backwards “Kentucky” actually reads as “You Kan’t Clearly Understand The Natural Excuse for Killing nonbelievers”) is just a few stops short of the long-anticipated UFO Landing on the White House Lawn.  “Health” and “Food” are not normally used in the same sentence here in the Red Zone, though Doritos and Fried @$$ Sandwiches are in plentiful abundance.  And it’s not even organic fried @$$. 

So yeah… Wilcock the organic sausage pusher.  In that sense I guess life comes around full circle since the day I was selling hot dogs at Eat at Joe’s in summer of 1991, fresh out of high school.  I didn’t like pumping out the frankfurters back then — basically because I was paranoid, drama-seeking, lazy and perpetually depressed from gluing up my synapses with Mary Jane…

…but now I think it will be nice to do some retail and interact with people who just want me for my wiener(s)…

… without asking any questions about God, the Universe and Everything (the answer is 42).  [OK, if you already don’t like the way this is going, STOP NOW, it’s not going to get much better, my weary friend…   🙂  ]

As a hetero on extended leave from the art due to the politics of my position, which all too often ends up as “whipping boy” for others intoxicated by their own shadow projections, I’ve been advised that it is a good thing that I do not have a “bun man” as my loyal, obedient sidekick for even more, uh, fun-poking.  Cocktails will NOT be served in the rear of this party — my sincere apologies to those who were secretly asking “what if” and wanting to come to (or with) the gala if invited.  I did tell Elizabeth, grand goddess of the Market, that she should be prepared for me to take full advantage of the ample comic potentials implicit in thrusting me out in such a forward public role… *ahem*

All right, gosh, let’s sober up a bit here.  It’s been 13 years of total sobriety as of today.  Let’s try to act like it.  *straightens out tie and collar* 

*    *    *

In case you haven’t read, printed out and absorbed every cottonpicking thing on this site (meaning that you actually DO have a life, (sorry dedicated scholars, it’s a JOKE,)) let’s do a brief recap of some old stuff, based on material already published on this site and in my discussion group with the permission of those involved at the time.  (Caveats. Disclaimers. Politics. You see? This is what my life has become… You have no idea.)  You’ll see the relevance as time goes on.

I was in a relationship with a woman we call Sabrina (to preserve her anonymity) when I was living in Virginia Beach, and we were both guided by our Higher Selves (we were high on something, that’s for sure) to get together.  We both had some serious initiation in store for us, as there were some really basic incompatibilities.  Even though we were both pie-in-the-sky Piscean New Agers, her parents were staunch conservative Christians and my parents were arch-liberal ex-hippies.  And once you blow off all the New Age pixie dust from the family portrait, you discover that the apple never really does fall that far from the tree.

In all seriousness, in June of 2001, after we’d already been living together in a steady undercurrent of ever-increasing tension for over a year, perhaps the greatest trauma of my life was in that moment when I had just thrown on my pants to be decent as a cop came to my front door, and asked me for Sabrina’s medication.  Then when I asked him why, and what this was all about, he said “You don’t KNOW?”

“Know what.”  I did not like the way this was going.  At all.  I buckled my belt.

“Sabrina was struck by a 35-mile-per-hour automobile while crossing Atlantic Avenue as a pedestrian. She is in critical condition at Virginia Beach General, and at this time I cannot guarantee whether she is alive or dead.”

My weight effortlessly carried me down to the brick patio as the news pressed in on me.  I skipped a few beats of reality.  That’s why she had been late getting home from walking on the beach today.


A fatal exception error 0E has occurred at 0028:666000666 in VXD OMFG(01) + #01y$#!+.  Your current application will be terminated. 

Restart Windows (Y/N)? 


OK. Good.  You can continue working while updates are being installed…

“Well, can you try to find out if she is alive?” I weakly replied in a heap, casting my words across a million miles of space from the deep, dark hole I had collapsed into.  So THAT was what those medical calls were on the ID that I had ignored, thinking it was something mundane and worthy of voice mail rollover.  I did not throw up but I was pretty close.  You could almost smell it getting ready to happen.

Just over a week ago we had been to Dr. Steven Greer’s Disclosure Project conference in Washington DC together, where 39 top-secret witnesses officially blew the whistle on government suppression of the reality of UFOs… and had been through a whole range of unpleasant events that threatened to destroy our relationship, including my driving through rush-hour DC traffic and finding out that my car had no brakes… literally… (thank God it was a standard shift)… and now this.

This officer had written a ticket for the day and time she would have to appear in court about this “traffic accident” if she made it through alive, which she did, barely — and at the time it was just a day and time on a piece of paper, with no further significance.

“September 11, 2001, 9:45 am.”

Yeah.  No joke.

A mere five weeks after this disaster happened, wreaking untold tragedy upon the frailties of human flesh, and suddenly granting me with my would-be mother-in-law as a housemate for a month, (fun,) Sabrina rejoined me in the apartment.  There were multiple broken bones and complications.  She could not walk as one of her legs had been shattered and had a titanium rod in it to hold it together. 

When a person goes through extreme trauma they can’t help but become the focus of the attention.  The standard literature on cancer patients, as another example, is that the disease ends up consuming the focus and direction of everyone in the house.  This was a similar situation in that respect.  This disaster required that I begin living off of my meager inheritance from the year before and devote full time — day and night — to seeing Sabrina recover.

Our relationship already had been quite challenging, again due to basic personality differences that are not really anyone’s fault. At times I just felt profoundly isolated, alone and desperate, not seeing any way out.  I was drowning in something we both had labeled as codependency, realizing we were both culpable… and my work was like a drug, the one thing I could cling to for meaning in an increasingly desperate existence.  Hence it was a constant target for attack in the relationship.  And then this tragedy struck.  It seemed almost impossibly cruel, and it required too much attention to really stop and think about “purpose” or “meaning”.  You just did what you had to do.  

Again, when a person is going through that degree of trauma and physical pain, their attitude invariably turns for the worse.  They can’t help it.  When I have told those closest to me the full details of what we both went through in that period of time it literally makes their flesh crawl.  They invariably asked me how I could possibly have stayed with her through it, and I simply said I felt I had no choice.  I HAD to do this as I did love her, and she wanted to be with me, not with her parents, as she went through this whole ordeal. 

I confided in my secret email buddy Richard C. Hoagland (who I would later work with publicly) and his companion Robin, and shared with them, day by day and point for point, all the horrors, the ups and downs of what was going on in the intensive care, and then in the rehab center, and then in my living room and bathroom.  I felt that since my work was already under criticism by Sabrina for how much I allowed it to consume me, the last thing I wanted to do was to make any of this tragedy public.  It would definitely draw my audience into an interpersonal drama, focusing on the personalities, and away from the spirit and focus of the material.

So, I just withdrew from the public eye and said nothing whatsoever about what had happened.  A separation had begun.  Her injury was clearly an accident, but at the same time I had just lost my brakes on the way up to the most controversial UFO conference in history the week before.  The only reason why we kept going was that we were closer to DC than to Virginia Beach when it happened — and honestly I just said, “Nothing is going to stop us from going to this event.  This is a once-in-a-lifetime deal.” 

The car was a 1984 Peugeot Diesel that used square hex bolts, requiring obsolete wrenches, so no one could fix the car even if they wanted to, since 84 was the last year they were ever made in the US.  So we finished the drive, using the clutch to slow down as needed, and got there, weary but ready, just in time.  My new Florsheim ultra-fancy “Virginia Banker” shoes quickly parted my tender ankle and foot-flesh like razors as I ran, full-on, to the VIP briefing room, dressed up in suit and tie to “play the part”. 

And of course after the incredible event, after we stayed up until a bleary-eyed 2AM that night driving around in futility without brakes, trying to find a non-existent hotel room ANYWHERE in Washington DC, at ANY price since we were increasingly desperate, and then renting a car the day after we finally DID score so we didn’t die on the road from lack of stopping power, Sabrina wanted to spend the whole rest of the weekend doing an official walking Washington DC vacation.  I was dead tired from the trauma of the driving and my crucified feet.  It was bad.  Plain and simple.

The conference itself had been amazing: a Closed Executive Summary Briefing for Members of Congress, their Representatives and VIP Guests (that included myself and Sabrina among a few dozen others).  Here were 39 top-secret UFO witnesses coming forward, bravely, for the first time.  This was the closed briefing, so they cut loose with things that had been too controversial for the National Press Club meeting the day before.  There were MANY unanimous standing ovations.  Everyone thought the whole world would awaken to the UFO reality as a result of this event — a singular moment of change — and the energy was very high and clear.  Some of the witnesses towards the end were privately saying mean things about Dr. Greer — no one likes to have to give their whole story in a few short sound bites — but it was still overall a good vibe.  At the events themselves I was in heaven.

By about a week later it was clear that absolutely nothing in the world had changed.  Western media coverage of the event amounted to little more than one single text ticker at the bottom of the screen on CNN once or twice.  It was very depressing, as we really had hoped something would shift.  The reality had just started to really sink in — and then this.  Wham.  She was just crossing the street!  Someone had “let” her pass by slowing down their SUV and waving her across, a weird resort-goers move for people coming back from the beach, and an impatient hot-rod kid decided to dash out to the left, probably pissed off that they had stopped dead in the road, never bothering to try to look around this towering mass or think why it had stopped.  Thirty-five miles per hour! How could she possibly have lived through it?  That was the most amazing part of all. 

In the Law of One series Ra said, point-blank, that the ultimate ‘negative greeting’ the entities trying to stop the Ra contact were trying to engineer was to get Carla to step out in front of a car in traffic.  Yes… that.  Specifically.  It never worked with Carla, but here we were living in the apparent fulfillment of this prophecy.  Sabrina also had a dream earlier in the year where she had been hit in that exact spot on the highway by a bus.  I did not believe that any “agents” of a black government had taken out my brakes the week before, but I couldn’t help but feel that we were dealing with some very real, very powerful metaphysical opposition — like a “fifth-density negative companion,” as Ra would call it.

We did not ask for money, moral support or prayers from anyone, and did not even tell the discussion group.  I knew that at the right time I would speak.  I did not want to say anything until I knew she was healthy enough that she was definitely going to make it, just in case there WAS someone in the physical who might have been alerted by this, sensed a weakness and tried to do us further harm.  (Yeah, I know.  Paranoid.)

Each day all I could think about was not feeding truth to the illusion.  The illusion was that life had become a horrific nightmare, that things were just never going to get any better.  The worst part of living in hell is the illusory belief that it is eternal — that you are permanently condemned to this state of depravity, isolation, morbidity and horror.  And yet, shattered bones do re-integrate.  Tortured hearts do heal.  And the sun also rises.

Things really hadn’t gotten much better as we drove to court that cool September morning. We were arguing almost every day, mostly since I was feeling trapped in the responsibility for her care and unable to do much else, with finances perilously low, and it was very difficult on both of us.  I basically had no help whatsoever and after an accident like this you have tons of doctor’s appointments to hit, so there was always something going on. 

We had a physical therapist coming to the house who could see the difficulty we were both going through.  I was buying food at the store on the EBT card (usually used just for welfare recipients — EBT stands for “Electronic Benefits Transfer”) and put up with the funny looks — especially when I was well dressed.  Then I’d drop the bomb on them, if I felt like it, and their faces would invariably change to the “oh my God I’m so sorry” look.  Things like this just DON’T HAPPEN, and when someone finds out that they really DO, and they are looking right in your eyes and see you are dead serious, it changes them.  For a fleeting moment the idea that “nothing bad ever really happens” is whipped away — that same orienting second-density animal-mind reflex that mass media uses to sell movies, television programs and broadcast news shows. 

All I knew from that morning before court was that I had a dream about some imminent worldwide disaster that was about to happen.  The dream told me I should call up Art Bell immediately, even that same morning, and tell him that I was guided to telephone him because “they” said something was going to happen.  They said it would create “planetary motion.”  The dream showed me that this event was going to basically militarize our society and get ordinary people marching lock-step in uniform.  Art was reluctantly thrust into the role of directing this militarization in the dream.  In the Law of One series the Luciferian force is described as “that which inspires movement and growth” as a natural part of the push-pull of universal energy.  So “Planetary Motion.  All right.  Now I’ll just have to figure out what this huge event will be. 

Dreams from days earlier had shown me that some huge horror was coming to humanity in the form of a giant airplane that was made out of smoke, with incredibly ominous energy associated with it in the dream, and other dreams seemed to suggest a financial collapse was imminent.  I expected it at any moment.  Other dreams from the previous December had also somehow correlated airplane crashes with a major financial collapse in America.  So all right, let’s have it, I had been feeling.  This seemed to be the sign that it was almost here.  Little did I realize that I started typing in that dream at the exact minute that the first plane struck the tower.  

Earlier along, Sabrina had been trying to remote-view the whereabouts of Osama Bin Laden because she felt that he had another big trick up his sleeve and no one was paying enough attention to it.  She had cut out his picture to try to zoom in on him in the hopes of gathering information that could be used to lead to his capture, arrest and trial.  A well-placed source she implicitly trusted told us, with frustration, not to bother, as intelligence knew exactly where he was, kept constant track of him, but they did not want him discovered — and blocked anyone who tried.  We were advised just to drop it, and we did.  Since those earlier days, his picture had stayed on the bookshelf face-down in case it was needed again, and I had just recently moved books around on the bookshelf, jostling things up a bit.

As I typed away at my dream, Bin Laden’s picture fell off the bookshelf and landed on the ground, staring at me.  I ignored it, even though I too had received prophecies that he (or someone just like him) might score a very damaging attack against New York.  This prophecy came through on July 1, 1999, if memory serves.  One thing I definitely remember clearly is the line that the readings spoke during that same session: 

“World Trade Center attack (of 1993) really shook things up.  The next time it will be a far greater affair, if the planners have their way.” 

I had no idea how to put all this together, and clearly the Bin Laden thing had no relevance to the story at hand, but I didn’t have time to call Art, despite the insistence of my dream, because we had to rush off to court.  I was too busy with Sabrina’s big day to make a prophecy article where I was going to try to put all these weird, disjointed pieces together.  I figured I still had time, so I finished typing in the dream, jumped in the shower and we were off.  No radio in the car; I preferred silence.  The traffic functioned normally outside. 

Once we got to the gig, I noticed the ominously-placed sign outside the courtroom warning of complete doom if you so much as dared open your mouth to whisper something out of turn inside.  Therefore I was just about astonished to see the lawyers from opposite sides of the courtroom running around from side to side, talking excitedly to each other like teenage bubblegum girls, just a frenzy of activity.  Snippets of words were audible.

Two airplane crashes.  Two towers.  Explosion.  Pentagon.  Disaster.  Washington DC.  Unbelievable. 

I had no idea what these guys could possibly be talking about.  Here we were in court to follow up on an event that had happened just a week after I had been in DC myself the first time, driving in rush hour, with no brakes.  Thankfully in my own case there was no crash, explosion or disaster.  That had come the week afterwards.  The other guy’s sports car had brakes but they didn’t work quickly enough — not by a longshot.

One minute the law men seemed to be talking about two towers that were somehow damaged or destroyed, the next minute they seemed to talk about the Pentagon and an explosion, then they were back to chattering about airplanes crashing.  They kept saying “Washington DC” over and over again.  Either this was the weirdest series of freak coincidences ever to happen or something really, really powerful was going on.  I totally forgot about Bin Laden’s picture falling, as sometimes things just fall, and it obviously doesn’t mean anything when they do…

Yet we were both very nervous about the trial; this would determine whether Sabrina was at fault for stepping out into traffic at an intersection and being hit.  She was clearly nonplussed with me for focusing more on trying to understand what these guys were talking about than putting my attention on our case.  But heck — this was NOT normal.  Not by a longshot.

Then as the court began, the judge was a surprisingly attractive blonde female, and she had a VERY strange energy about her, as if this was the heaviest day on Earth.  You could tell she was doing a huge job trying to look professional but her face was completely betraying that her mind was a complete basket case.  She could have just fallen off the chair, she was so off-balance. 

Trying to stay as polished as possible, she began carefully and dispassionately announcing a “full military recall of all active personnel, threat level Charlie,” and that they should all “leave now”… their cases were adjourned and they would be contacted later.  Then the next thing you know she was on to the next boilerplate sentence, as if she hadn’t just said anything unusual.

Is this normal?  What is this Charlie code-word crap all about?  Is Washington DC under attack?  Is this Armageddon or what?  Or is this just a precautionary measure after someone crashed two planes somewhere and happened to nick a building, and the Pentagon was now pissed off about it?

Several people poured out of the room, trying not to run, one of them an African-American guy in a bright white sailor’s uniform.  They all had that look of the kid who had to go to the bathroom REALLY badly and was finally excused from the dinner table, running in a way that holds everything in on the go and grabbing onto nearby surfaces with their fingertips too much.  I was that kid when I was 5 years old.  I put my head down as I ran towards the bathroom and split my forehead skin open on the corner of the wall as I went for the stairs.  I had to go to the emergency room and get stitches.  But they made it out in an orderly fashion.


Whaaaat?  OK.  At this point I definitely knew something was going on.  I whipped out my bound copy of Convergence III, my latest enormous compilation of new research, with me, hoping I might squeeze in a little recreational reading… it was, after all, the last major accomplishment of writing I had made before everything collapsed in on us — and grabbed a pen.  Being a codebreaker and pattern-seeker by nature, and also thinking about my very intense dream, I knew that something very heavy was going on here.  It was too late to call Art now — whatever I had seen in the dream was already happening.  I was too curious to wait until court was out to try to figure out what it was, so I got to work.  I turned to the back page, which was blank, and tried to sort this thing out.

This is the authentic scanned image of what I tried to write down for Sabrina, since we couldn’t talk, to try to explain why I was so distracted by listening to what these lawyers had been talking about, and win back some “points”.  She still had no idea that anything was afoot, as her mind was racing with thoughts of her own future.  I’m always the one who notices EVERYTHING going on in a room within seconds of walking in.  Call it a warrior’s reflex from many past lives of having to fend for myself:

Our case was the first to be heard and it seemed as if we skated through it with almost astonishing ease.  The opposing lawyer hardly even put up a fight with her “floppy hat argument” and the judge and Sabrina seemed to have some sort of beautiful-woman telepathic “inside” understanding with each other.  Victory!  I was surprised to see the longing and empathy in everyone’s faces, practically leaning over towards us shoulders and all, as I wheeled Sabrina out, crutches in hand, victorious down the center aisle of the courtroom.  People were not usually this sympathetic.  What the heck was going on?

Outside in the hallway our noticeably sweating lawyer, speaking very rapidly, filled us in on the news.  It was all part of one thing.  Four airliners hijacked.  One hit each of the Twin Towers.  One hit the Pentagon.  One believed to have crashed in Pennsylvania.  One of the towers had already collapsed.  And the other one had just collapsed minutes before he started to speak to us.  It was all happening.  

We then ran into another lawyer friend of ours, a guy connected to the ARE and spiritually “lit”.  He would later go with me on my Egypt tour and I wouldn’t remember that it had been him I spoke to that day until after I got back home.  We talked about what it all meant.  “I knew something like this was going to happen,” I said.  “In a way I’m relieved because earlier this year I had a dream where New York sustained a multiple cruise missile attack with enormous casualties. 

They were not nuclear but it just seemed impossible that that much destruction was going on in an American city.  At the time I thought it was just symbolic so I didn’t write about it on my website as I didn’t want to fear-monger.  This doesn’t seem to be quite as bad as my dream was.  But I know this is going to change everything just the same.  History is in the making.  Many people are going to be triggered into a spiritual awakening by this.  We could have some major shifts toward Ascension happening very soon as a result.  This will pull people together in support of each other and we will all take a big step towards love and peace.”  I casually denied the guidance my dreams had given as to what it would do to society from that same morning as I spoke these words.

As I drove us home, Sabrina wanted to stop at an Italian restaurant and get a gelato.  “Are you crazy?”  I said, clutching the wheel.  “We’re not stopping anywhere.  This is the biggest event in American history since Pearl Harbor — and that event touched off an enormous war.  I need to write an article about this as soon as possible because this fulfills every prophecy I’ve been seeing for years now.  It’s very important that I get this article written before midnight tonight so people can see that I didn’t have the time to fabricate all this dream data from my own imagination.

And besides, the stores probably won’t even stay open.  When things like this happen people need to be with their families, huddled around the TV, as the same sickening scenes of disaster are replayed over and over and over again, day after day after day.  It’s part of how they process the shock.  So let’s just not even waste our time.  I’ve got to get right on this.  People are going to be totally freaking out and I need to calm them down and let them know that this is all part of the bigger Ascension plan unfolding on the Earth at this time.”  I was excited, but not at all in fear.

Dr. Mandelker and I spoke about it on the phone in terms of the “big picture,” as Sabrina and I watched some of the initial coverage from a friend’s summer home we would go to, with his permission, since we didn’t have our own TV. 

“This is a spectacular success if it is an act of terrorism,” I said to Mandelker, and he agreed.  “Whoever did this deserves at least an A, if not an A plus, in terms of how perfectly diabolical they are in its execution.  They had their one shot, whoever they are, since this Trojan Horse airliner trick will never be able to work again, and they used it to the best possible advantage they could have — except for that last plane that was either on the way to taking out the White House or the Capitol building, most likely, but crashed or was shot down on the way, landing in Shanksville, PA.  If the government did shoot it down they won’t tell us, of course; they’ll just make a cover story. 

I mean, what are the chances of having four successful hijackings, where in each case they actually get the weapon through the metal detectors at security, overtake any opposition on board, and get full control of the plane, with such amazingly synchronized timing?  That alone is unprecedented in human history.  Then, how did they all manage to avoid being shot down by our own guys in those F-18 Hornets, which as we well know, from all the jet noise here, can rip through the air at supersonic speed? 

How did they all manage to reach their targets and actually hit them with such precision?  Not one of them lost the nerve or made an error in flight judgment. And how did those towers both manage to come down so fast that it was almost a flat-out freefall?  This whole thing seems like a Hollywood movie more than a reality.  It’s surreal.  If the steel in those buildings melted just a little bit asymmetrically, which is what we would expect from burning jet fuel heating up the side they came in on more than the other side, then they should have creaked, groaned and lumbered off to one side like a tree, smashing up a whole bunch of other real estate on the way down.  This is just so nice and neat — straight down.  A tree would never fall straight down; it’s impossible. So what gives?

And then what are the chances that BOTH buildings would fall down the exact same “perfect” way, totally in freefall, even though the second one hardly even seemed to be burning at all?  You can see that big fireball on the video when the second plane hit, man.  That was where most of the fuel went.  All I can say is that whoever did this must be very pleased with himself.  Everyone is in fear and terror and they will always remember this day, sharing where they were and what they were doing when “IT” happened with their children and grandchildren.  “Well I remember the day…”

You know, something like this tells Americans that they are vulnerable.  This morning’s dream sure didn’t paint a very good picture of what it would do.  The event itself will probably kill far less people than a single day’s traffic accidents.  It’s basically just two buildings, four airplanes and a wall of the Pentagon — not exactly Armageddon.  No, this is really about striking at the heart of the American financial and military base.  It is a symbolic act, and what really freaks people out is not the act itself — after all, their lives and property are relatively unaffected — it is the idea that it is just the beginning of something far worse that will happen later.  It makes them feel unsafe and in need of protection.  It could definitely crash the markets and nobody wants that either.”

“Oh my God, David is evil,” some people might say if they’ve read this far.  “He didn’t even break a sweat on 9/11 and talked about it with the detachment of a battlefield commander or logistician.  He had no fear whatsoever and he should have spent days and days in terror and tears over all the people who died, huddled around the television fireplace just like everyone else.”

All I can say to those people is this.  When you’ve seen your own loved one looking as close to a corpse as you’ve ever seen any human body get, complete with the bluish-white lips, all the putrid smells and the face torn ragged and bleeding, right before she was wheeled into the OR under complete unconscious sedation for surgery whose outcome was unknown, you’re ready for anything.  Fear loses much of its grip on your conscious mind and you find acceptance.  And there was no way I could forget about those visions when I had just stepped out of a courtroom where we had to relive the whole sickening spectacle again in real time.  Tough stuff.  These things just don’t happen. 

But they do.

Is it nationalism rearing its ugly head when the deaths of people in the American country are taken far more seriously, as if they were far greater tragedies, than the deaths of those in foreign lands?  How are you NOT a nationalist if you think otherwise?  Is this a thought pattern that contributes positively to your Ascension?  And if everyone dies anyway, and you never really know when it could happen, such as Sabrina’s accident proved to me, then why do we insist on thinking it’s so much worse if a group of people die at the same time in one event, rather than putting together a daily synopsis of fatal traffic accidents across the country and worrying about that?  Or the daily deaths of coronary heart disease and obesity from the insanely terrible American diet? 

Death is an aspect of life.  Without the death energy things would putrefy, consciousness would stagnate and evolution would not take place.  And the Law of One series told us that the social memory complex Ra cannot see us as separate entities.  Period.  Not “occasionally cannot,” but CANNOT.  The personality self is a convenient illusion that helps Consciousness evolve in apparently separate parts, even though it eventually forms Unity in a social memory complex, and again becomes completely One at the end of this Octave of creation.  Life and death move in synchrony, and you’re never going to be any more dead than you are right now.  You will always Exist.  Your consciousness will live on.  And with that knowledge comes peace and acceptance.  

*    *    *

So OK.  Let’s say you’re pissed off because “David has abandoned this website and now anything he does costs money.”  It’s high time that I level with you about what the big secret is.  Just a bit more exposition first… 

I have been through FAR more since this September 11th event, but on some level this is all about initiation.  I have a potentially big job here on the planet and I have had almost an overabundance of “initiation” experiences — basically just full-on suffering that I try to move through without engagement, following the Law of One principles as best I can — to get me to a point where I can actually handle all the scorn, ridicule and shame that people try to throw at you when you become an increasingly public figure. 

I finally had a major breakthrough that started to shift everything last December, after I had already moved into my own private house out of a need for privacy and to be my own man in my own energy.  I realized that codependency was my biggest problem; it was THE reason for why things kept going badly for me over and over again.  I had all the zeal of a converted fundamentalist… this was THE ANSWER.  I do essentially still feel that way… that I have found the Big Thing that is wrong with humanity in general.  The physics does all tie back into it and I’m still sorting that all out. 

Karma is no joke — it is an impersonal, universal law that keeps you in balance, whether you believe it is “real” or not.  What knocks you out of balance is the energy of fear — and fear often leads to the desire to control and manipulate others as a form of self-protection.  Fear of aloneness is the root of codependency. 

A codependent will often deliberately create drama with those around him or her simply because movement is better than stillness.  Stillness feels like death, and death is at the root of fear.  Movement, in this case, is the Luciferian energy — the negative path, the disruption of others’ free will.  This free-will infringement masquerades as a desire to defend and feed the illusory ego, for the apparent “hurts” they cause you by not conforming to your expectations.

I decided, last December, to stop pouring all my effort into friends and relationships.  That was how I judged my level of success… by what other people said and thought about me.  A hundred loving emails did not matter one bit if there was even one negative word, look or blow-off from those closest to me.  I was a true prisoner.  I had no idea how I really felt, what I really thought, who I really was — I had framed the opinions of those closest to me, even if they were obviously distorted, as if they were the opinions of my own God Self.  And that is perniciously deadly.  As the new saying goes, “You can never be healthier than those you surround yourself with.”

And no matter how well-meaning or nice someone might be on the surface, codependency is a rapacious destroyer of life, love and freedom.  It is an insidious plague sweeping this world, but it also simply represents a natural stage of our cosmic evolution… the archetype of the hungry ghost; that old, fearful part of you that just refuses to die off, and needs to get “energy” from others to sustain itself.  You could think of it as Perpetual Healing — and healing requires energy in.  It does not radiate “energy out” to others, which is the positive path. 

You really have no way to stop codependents’ behaviors or help them beyond a certain point, and if you stay in it you’re only furthering the cycle and your own toxic enmeshment in it; all you can do is withdraw if it keeps on happening, and that is very hard to do and they will be convinced that you are a terrible person for doing it.  They will invariably come up with more and more accusations to lob at you until they eventually lose interest and move on to the next projection, which could take months or even years — and there are always new triggers that re-ignite their old projections. 

Codependency is every bit as damaging as a drug addiction, and it actually originates as a response to extreme trauma or abuse.  The abuse gets deeply buried in the subconscious, where it takes on a life of its own and just wants to consume more and more of your vitality and the vitality of others.  Most codependents don’t even have a chance to TRULY lick it unless they end up completely abandoned for their ways, and have to again go back to working on their Core Traumas, even if they feel that they are “totally past it” and “don’t want to deal with that old $#!+.” 

I certainly had experienced the trauma part of the equation with Sabrina, and long before that with my basic family system.  I had also experienced the utter, total abandonment from someone I thought I really loved (or was it my projection?) when I turned out to be the needier codependent in the equation… but it takes a WHILE to embrace that healthy saying, “I would rather lose you than lose myself.”  I finally “got it” after a great deal of work, and even if this prices me outside the range of another human relationship, so be it.  My own energy is better than the drama.  So, so much better.

OK, so what is codependency?  There are many different definitions, but I feel that codependency basically is being addicted to others, and thereby powerless over others.  Fearing more hurt, and perpetually emotionally needy, you study everyone around you like a hawk.  You can rifle off a list of all their most recent offenses rapid-fire quick, and you turn and turn and turn their actions over in your head, continually trying to find some way you can get at them… so you can change their behavior in a way that suits the desires of your deep, dark, depressed and ever-so needy ego. 

In the midst of all this pathetic projection, you really have no idea who you are, what you feel, what you want… you can’t help but take everyone else’s opinion of you as your own opinion.  You also can’t help but see everything they do as somehow related to their opinion of you.  It really sucks.  In more ways than one.

A true codependent does not truly know what they feel inside.  They only THINK they know what they feel, based on what they think OTHERS feel about THEM, and their whole life is a reactive feedback loop to those stimuli.  They are deeply, powerfully threatened at the core level of their own identity.  Though they are not honest enough to admit it, they feel that the Creator has abandoned them (Original Wound) and anyone else who seems to have just a teensy taste more of the Creator’s love and abundance becomes a target for abuse. 

Hence this energy perpetually destroys, creates drama, creates mountains out of molehills, nit-picks and in general never gets anything done.  And eventually the towers come crashing down, there is no money or love or energy left and you bottom out.  At that point you have a choice to rebuild yourself with the same patterns or to really “get it” this time and start off on a different foot, learning self-respect for the first time.

You might even learn that the strongest gift you can give others is to totally withdraw your projections from them and be completely at peace with seeing them follow their own path, without any need for you to try to connive or contrive or change their behavior in any way, shape or form.  Even if it means that they never speak to you again.  Fine!  This is an abundant universe and they will be well.  So will you! 

That is the root meaning of the “first distortion” of the Law of One, the Law of Free Will, the most important spiritual concept in the Universe, according to the Law of One series.  And almost no one understands it or follows it.  To love people you have to respect them as they are, do not offer any guidance unless they ask you for it, do not try to disrupt their lives in any way: serve to your heart’s delight if it is requested, and hold an open and receptive, non-judgmental space if it is not requested, so they might feel comfortable approaching you later on.  Or not.  Either way you’re in great shape. 

The codependent feels that no one is entitled to feel anything better than what they are feeling, or experience anything better than what they are experiencing.  It’s very petty and vengeful but when you’re in it you miraculously hypnotize yourself into justifying every action — and you have no idea that you could possibly be wrong.  Every single thing you do you can back up, with proof, that you are Right and they are Wrong and you are Justified in whatever abusive measures you mete out to try to Balance the situation. 

And even if you totally lie to yourself, your Higher Self totally knows that you secretly Lust for Revenge.  Your higher self can become totally walled off from you, for years, even if you think you’ve really got it together.  Sometimes dreams are the only clue you get.  And when the dreams don’t work it’s not long before you get the Karmic Blast — and you really may have no idea why that blast even happened in the first place, so this is the single LEAST effective way for your Higher Self to try to get you a message, but by then there’s really nothing else left — the Law of Free Will has to be balanced. 

Guess what… I may make horrible mistakes and fail to update my website in like forever, but one thing I have learned is that EVERY SINGLE TIME you mess with someone’s free will as a codependent, you can guarantee that you are going to get blasted in return.  Guaranteed.  Never fails.  And if not in this life (since your higher self does not fully have the resources) then in your next life. 

OK, so now you blew the Ascension.  This was exam time and you couldn’t get it together.  It’s OK… the universe has plenty of time for you to play this game and get it right.  A lot of people will have this happen.  The graduation numbers probably won’t be very high here.   And when you persecute others for their “terrible wrongs” they committed against you, including any races, cultures, governments or leaders, the real revenge you are seeking is against this feeling that God has abandoned you.

But you ARE God… so see the illusion for what it is! 

How can you be abandoned… by yourself?

Most of the time all of this codependent bomb-dropping is based on massive assumptions that could effortlessly be cleared up if you actually spoke to the person — but the codependent sees all information about someone else as precious intel, and therefore does not want to betray their knowledge by asking for confirmation.  They KNOW they are right, and are totally unaware that they are simply projecting their own shadow issues onto the other person.  One of the letters I got today was really funny in that respect, as it accused me of locking out my readers just like FEMA in the Superdome.  

Misery loves company.  Huddle up!

Codependency has a mechanism — a way in which codependents play other people to meet their needs.  It is a dance that they blindly whirl through in endless repetition, true prisoners to their own inability to ever awaken within the nightmare itself.

To a true-blue codependent, Love for others is not Love; it is FAKE Love.  To a true-blue codependent, Hate for others is not Hate; tt is FAKE Hate.  And in the periods of down-time between these two opposite polarities of illusion, there is that Empty Vacuum.  I will whip out the conventional terms for these three phases – Love, Hate and Emptiness — in just a moment.

Why do I call these emotions fake?  Because it is all you, projecting your issues onto others.  You don’t really love the others — you love the aspect of yourself that you seei in them.  You don’t really hate the others — you hate the aspect of yourself that you see in them.  You don’t really feel the vacuum from others — it is you abandoning yourself that wears you down. 

In the clinical literature it is called Karpman’s Drama Triangle:

Rescue (Love)

Persecute (Hate)

Victim (Emptiness)

In this sense it really is a manifestation of universal energetic balance in a very mentally unwell person, (of which we all are, at times, especially in the face of trauma such as Earth Changes) unable to heal from their own trauma and perpetually stuck in the cycle of projecting their miseries onto others as an attempt to deal with it.  So the pattern goes something like this.

RESCUE: A person comes into your life.  You take on their natural responsibility as if it were your own.  You Rescue them, and they are Grateful to you.  This action also entraps them into being obligated to Love (Rescue) you.  You have earned a Claim Ticket and you intend to redeem it.  This sick, sick game you call “loving” the person.  You are not honest enough with yourself to realize that Real Love has no strings, and that you are a score-keeper and a point-taker … which is not loving at all.  

PERSECUTE: You expected the person you ‘rescued’ to do all these great things to please your ego in response to the rescue you gave.  Your gifts are not loving… they come at a steep price.  Now you want Repayment… and when you do not get it, you Persecute (Hate).  You lash out and go for the attack.  You feel completely justified because you keep score, and you KNOW that you have been wronged.  You are the one who gave so much, suffered so much, and asked for nothing in return.  Poor You!  So now you Hate them.  They become the embodiment of pure evil in your mind, on some level.  And you lash out with whatever bitterness, bile and venom your needy ego feels is justified.  Naturally, they do not respond and may even withdraw entirely.

VICTIM: Now they’ve really crossed the line.  They never accepted your “Love” in the first place.  Then they did not honor your “Hate.”  You tried to create a criteria where they HAD to love you and you realized they could not be controlled; they did not meet up to your manipulative expectations.  So now you have Emptiness, because you are in this zone where you don’t feel enough “Love” to want to rescue them, and you don’t feel enough “Hate” to build up a sufficient energetic charge to Persecute.  So now you feel weak, needy and vulnerable.  You relish being the Victim.  You roll off the Laundry List of Claim Tickets that you amassed on this person.  All your codependent friends pump up your ego with back-slapping support: “You did the right thing.  What a jerk.”

Finally, you start feeling “Loving” again.  Time for another Rescue.  You again go for the high of rescuing someone, hoping they will rescue your own needy ego in return.  You have no idea that this is an internal drama you play with yourself, and around and around she goes.  You are Truly Helpless.  Welcome to Hell.  It feels Eternal.  And you have no idea why every single person you draw to yourself seems to be exactly the same type of person, who acts in the same manner as the others did.

*    *    *

The big cosmic realization this all led me to is that there is an inverse relationship between Healing and Creating.  If you are locked up in Healing, then you cannot Create at the same time.  You certainly can try, but it won’t take you very far, and you will keep wondering and wondering why.  And the codependent can never taste Real Love, because any love you try to share with others is ultimately complete counterfeit if it does not come from a place of balanced, peaceful self-acceptance and self-respect.  Loving others from an emotionally needy space invariably leads to manipulation and control. 

I realized that at this stage in my life, doing readings for others had become a mild but persistent form of codependency in its own right.  I was certainly astute enough not to project onto others or try to entrap them.  There were no Drama Triangles of Rescue-Persecute-Victim, which is ultimately fake Love-Hate-Emptiness, the Grand Trinity.  We had a clear, clean agreement; I had the suggested donation and I offered two hours of my time on the phone, and my complete dedication to the process (which did often include self-disclosure in mutual confidentiality to build trust).

However, since my dreams would be as much or more for the client’s issues as they were for my own, I was constantly living other people’s lives.  The enmeshment of this work was not something I could clear while I was in it… I had asked for it to stop, since I didn’t really feel it was necessary anymore, but it never did.  Every time I had a client I dreamed their dreams, no matter what.  Every time I had a client we were working on their deepest, most profound and searing personal pain.  So I had dreams, every other day for two and a half years straight, where I experienced the deepest, darkest shadow of many, many people… somewhere in the neighborhood of 300 of them.

At the same time I had great new things unfolding that could lead to a much-expanded form of service.  The biggest one was the opportunity… and here it comes… to do a full-length Hollywood theatrical movie based on the Convergence material.  The initial producer who got me to realize I could, and should, do this ended up winning the contract, though it could have also been someone else had I seen it necessary.  The important part was that I was the only one who could really do this film properly, because this scientific material was THE focus of this lifetime, ever since I started reading books on ESP and Hypnosis when I was seven years old.

So, as months went by and I was trying to blow out the screenplay, I wasn’t progressing as I should.  I had an entire film worth of material just on my own life, which would (and probably will) make a great film… but it was totally not the Convergence film; it was the David film, and that’s not what this was about.  After all this time I still had no idea what was in much of my mountains of scientific books — now a nine and a half foot stack of material I had compiled and printed from various Internet websites of credible new science information.

As of mid-May, I started recording each new client reading via professional microphone, and I deliberately asked the source to sway the reading towards focusing on the Oneness, how each person’s issues ultimately tie in with everyone else’s.  In that sense we were hitting everyone’s deepest specific issues at the deepest archetypal level of their pain, where we are all the most similar.  So these ended up being fantastic readings that feel intensely personal for anyone who listens to them.  The feedback has confirmed this with remarkable clarity. 

And with the help of my colleague Larry Seyer, who won nine Grammys and most of them for recording, we have created excellent-sounding MP3s, about a half-hour long each, that weigh in at only five to six megabytes each.  So I’m very excited about that.  We also did a CD series called “The Science of Peace” in January that I am hopefully very close to deploying to the public.  You won’t believe the quality of the music we did together, and how it blends with the content I offered, but it’s there.  It’s there.  And it’s also a longer-winded version of what the film will cover, and more, since we have more time in three CDs.

So when someone gets all pissed off about having to pay for this archive I’m creating, I don’t think they really grasp just how amazing it’s going to be as a tool for healing.  It will blow this material to a whole new level.  There will be enough content to keep your interest, as I will update it frequently.  I speak very eloquently without needing to write it down and people in our discussion forum will invariably transcribe the data, and the best of it will get posted freely on this website for whomever wants to read it.  Plus, it gives me the funding I need to make this film possible.  And the film has a breathtaking message of hope and practical solutions to what is going on now.

This is just the beginning.  It was very difficult to close down all new reading requests as of last October, just under a year ago now, and it was even harder to rather abruptly postpone all clients who did manage to squeak through and were on the schedule between August of this year to February of next year… but a surprising number of them were completely forgetting that they had even requested at all.  This was my own devastating hurricane of sorts, but it was necessary.  I could not Create when I was Healing, and this work is so intense that all I ever do is heal. 

I am looking forward to getting back into doing the really deep readings — the readings that are deeper than I can ever go with a client because their ego invariably wants something recognizable, meaningful and personal, without deep encryption.  When I start doing the deep readings again, without anyone else needing it to say something to please them, we’re probably going to re-open an excellent window to prophetically chart out the uneasy course still ahead.  And those who subscribe to the archive can be the first to hear this and help transcribe it so we can get it out there on the site much faster than I have ever been able to do solo, before.

It’s also safe to say that this film is going to make a substantial impact on human culture.  It is absolutely the best of the best that my research has to offer.  I do want to say that at this point we still have the opportunity for people to come in who want to use this project as an investment.  The potential gains on this investment could make it very well worth it, since we are offering an extremely generous profit share and the film will be done on a low budget.  We need to get Convergence: The Movie made, and I know the right people will manifest, because they always do.  And this could be the most important investment they might ever make, if it has the impact that we think it could.

This film, since it is almost entirely focused on the scientific case that can be made for how to create world peace and reduce or eliminate Earth Changes, will be well-received.  It could well complete the process that we only hoped would get kicked off at the Disclosure Project.  There will undoubtedly be controversy and I am aware that it is going to put me into a position where I will probably never be able to enjoy the anonymity of being a hot-dog salesman again without being recognized, regardless of where I go.

So if you’d like to be served a frank by David Wilcock for a few bucks this weekend, just on the quiet tip, show up at the Chautauqua festival in Madison, Indiana on Saturday morning or afternoon at the Local Harvest Market.  I’ll be out there in front at the Boar’s Head cart, dressed up and ready to serve you. 

Otherwise, just indulge yourself with some comfort food and try to hold that ‘attitude of gratitude’ that we can now scientifically prove will increase peace and decrease earth changes.

Trust that all is well.   I do.  Even as this next Category 5 monster is rolling in.  If you need to clear a threatened area, you can do it without drama or attachment.  Just move, and do what you need to do.  Bring the deed to your property with you in a waterproof plastic bag.  Stay peaceful and know that miracles will happen and you will be taken care of.  The universe replies to your intent. 

This is all happening as a natural energetic response to our own imbalances, and this film is going to make that so clear that any open-minded and halfway intelligent person will see it.  I do apologize for all the absenteeism I have had to accrue here in order to get this all straightened out … but those days are soon over.  I have Healed and now I’m Creating… I finished the “final first draft” of the screenplay on Tuesday.  Hopefully we can pump this film out by next Christmas or a bit thereafter.  So hang on… the new website does look and feel great and it will totally change the way people see this material.

Peace be with you –

– David