Sublandia Bound

I wonder, I ponder, therefore I think, thought Harland.

 

In order to get to the real Cartesian “I think, therefore I am,” he figured he had to first get out from I think I think, therefore I am. Only then might he transition to “I think and intuit, therefore I am.”

 

Just like Bullwinkle, who collected boxtops, some people collect coupons and recipes. Harland collects certain somethings. In his ramblings on the web he seeks out truth tellers who have health tips, forbidden cures. It is obvious to any red piller that USA, Inc. has a depopulation agenda and he is intent upon not being one of its disabled populants. A step beyond this is another file folder he keeps entitled “Spirit,” where one finds little snippets, esoteric clues of spiritual proportions.

 

Harland believes that it is a strong body and mind that must support a clean and clear soul. Spirit can more easily manifest when all of the beacon generating capacities are working properly; clear reception is what he seeks. Doing battle with the geo-political beast and Luciferian acolytes necessitates some clearing to allow thought and intuition to coalesce properly.

 

Doing God’s work, living the gospel of Jesus, requires some purifying. That, too, begins with cleaning out the body/mind. The heart chakra is key and still emanates its etheric love aura regardless of its reckless keeper. But we’re talking maximum strength here; optimization of the Force That Through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower, as Dylan Thomas so wonderfully expressed the power of soul.

 

A recent tip-off was gotten via a file found on a favorite site he had dubbed the “Motherload.” He had gone to http://whale.to/b/croft_h.html and started a 500-page journey into The Adventures of Don & Carol Croft. This is essentially Don Croft’s journal of his experiences as an Orgonite Etheric Warrior tossing his holy hand grenades (HHg) and ChemBusters (CBs) hither and yon to clean up dead orgone and sick vortices. His life is the stuff of science fiction to the normie "pajama person" (blue piller), but he and his wife are apparently taken very seriously by the tri-letter agencies and their servitor psychics. It seems that Don has taken the work of Dr. Wilhelm Reich’s cloud buster and orgone generating to new heights—and he is not alone.

 

In typical serendipitous fashion, one find leads to other leads in rather short order. Old houndog that he is, it wasn’t long before Harland was onto the scent. As any red pill aficionado knows, one must unlearn before one can reboot oneself with the truth. Accordingly, one needs to detox before revivifying. Harland has thus embarked on a cleansing and rejuvenation program of his own.

 

His new regime will take until almost summer to complete. He’s excited and glad to broadcast his findings once they are found to be the remedial therapy he believes it to be. Until then, Harland is poking around here and there, generally making a nuisance of himself. He means well, but of course is slightly demented by his presumed, somewhat debilitated state.

 

The wind fills the sails. Tropics beckon. Other lands have secrets to decode. And Sublandia stays in perpetuity, distancing us from elementals, gnomes and fairies, inter-dimensional and starry helpmates. Wingmakers await to shove off the ship of recovering fools. Harland keeps reflecting upon brave Ulysses as he wades through the Dark Ages.