At our Green Acres Village pod meeting last night, Arielle mentioned that 9/11 is now being taught, in schools, that it’s in the textbooks. Yeah, I responded drily, “their version of it.”
As this year’s rollout of 9/11 stories begins to ramp up, I’m reminded — of course, just like the JFK assasination, we old hippies all know where we were when that news shocked us into wakefulness — where I was when I got the phone call to turn on the radio (we did not have a television). My husband Jeff was away, in Europe. He told me later that on that day he drove around aimlessly with another American, listening to the radio.
I turned the radio on at our office in Jackson, Wyoming, heard the announcers pitched high voice of extreme incredulity and alarm — when instantly a single thought broadcast internally loud and clear: “INSIDE JOB.” This was not a phrase that I was in the habit of using. So that it would just appear out of thin air on the inside of my skull was itself amazing.
Meanwhile, it seemed like within hours, I noticed those damned flags come out, go up on houses, start billowing even from car windows, as once again, mind-controlled Amurricans were deliberately whip-sawed into a frenzy of revenge..
That night I returned home to the yurt park in Kelly, 15 miles north. Ran into another yurt dweller, a young man about 30 years old. Of course we brought up the subject. And when I declared those words “inside job,” his face reddened, eyes locked into mine. “Be careful,” he warned. “You shouldn’t say that.”
Oops! Wow! Patriotic programming had already taken over, even inside a fellow yurt dweller who, like me, lived very much on the edge of U.S. A. culture. That personal encounter both startled and unnerved me. Not enough to stop speaking my truth, but certainly enough to make me realize that I was crying in the wilderness.
One day later, on a long-planned road trip to the northwest, I stayed in a motel. And so got to experience the endless, and I do mean endless, visual TV replays of those towers coming down. Even then I knew: we were being programmed for terror.
When we were told by George W. Bush, who, famously, had been reading a story about a pet goat to little kids at an elementary school when he was reportedly taken aside to be delivered the news — and then went back to reading! — that the way we citizens, er, ah, I mean consumers, could help the whole situation was to “go shopping” — well, this surreality caterwauled me into total befuddlement.
Not that it should have done that. I should have known that “they” needed this spectacular false flag event to unify the American people (so to speak) so they could justify the first of their planned seven wars in five years —
— in the ongoing (and now desperately clinging) agenda of the hegemonic Project for a New American Century to destabilize and destroy nation after nation in the oil-rich countries of the mideast, ruining people’s lives, and reaping massive profits for weapons manufacturers and associated industries that keep “our troops” in action, fed, clothed, armored, weaponized, PTSD’d, medicated, ruined . . .
And we wonder why the refugee flows now? Huh?
And we wonder what that feeling of “dread” is that wakes us up in the middle of the night, and holds us there, in that ghastly abyss, for hours?
And we wonder why the veils of politeness have ripped off political and geopolitical discourse? Why Obama was not given the “red carpet treatment” in China?
Yes, welcome to the 15th anniversary of 9/11, the day America was stuffed down into a too tight container of extreme denial: lest we wake up, for good.