The Way, Chapter 5: The Wrong Path

In this book I'll describe things that have baffled humanity for tens of thousands of years. A few have encountered these technologies through channeling, mistake, great illness perspective, but even fewer have proper perspective. Seems audacious, doesn't it? By the end of this book, I hope to transform that contempt into astonishment and wonder. Not for me, but for US, THEM, everyone that lived before us, and will live after us. This book is a testament to logic, fact, and truth over all other politically ascribed dogma. I will not hold back when fact outweighs opinion, or truth makes you uncomfortable. Bare this in mind throughout. Expect it. You WILL feel uncomfortable reading this. This will cause great strife with your current state of mind and well being, but will also cause a reactionary repulsion to me.

I was born into conflict almost immediately. I clashed with popular opinion at a very early age, but showed great potential in the science and math fields. Political happenings, along with a strenuous familial life, forced me to seek alternative routes to my upbringing and personal evolution. Getting emancipated at a very early age (15), then working full-time until I could enlist in the military (17), made my path to adulthood very isolated. I found solace in the one entertainment platform I had available and an affinity for thanks to my father... reading. My first book was Animal Farm, by George Orwell. Followed shortly thereafter by Flatland: A Romance Of Many Dimensions, by Edwin Abbott. They're seemingly difficult for some to understand the significance of, at any age, but I followed the dialect, sequence, and essence of intentions, however. I was able to do this at 6 years old. I was way ahead of the game then, and it's my intention to infuse that ability with modern learned theory in science, energy, and who we are. I must start with defining Satanic and Divine energy platforms and perspectives...

Humanity's obsession with the Satanic energy spectrums has driven society to a collapsing point. In its earliest conception, fire from cellulose structures (wood), which is the basis for the Satanic spectrum humanity is currently at the end of, has given those who procure it a survival strategy unmatched by any other KNOWN form. Fire was the cornerstone of the modern AND recent-ancient mental projection of survival. The two are inter-related and thus gave birth to the search of more ingenious ways to make fire, and more importantly to sustain it. Along this journey we discovered what an explosion was. Explosions are a phenomenon where the fuel from the fire is combust almost instantly giving the material a rapid burst of light and other anomalies like radiation. This process transforms a great deal of the material (fuel) used to get the desired result, whether that be cooking stew or blowing something up. The most attainable and most used source of fuel in modern day civilization is crude oil.

As with the original ideology that led to the recent-ancient's survival strategies of burning wood, modern man has drawn its entire life force from this substance we extract from the earth's carbon cycle, oil. The parallels that are drawn between oil and the prosperity within our society are hard to argue against. Everyone who has succeeded in anyway, shape, or form for the last 150 years has paid homage to crude oil. Humanity has a dereliction of consciousness in regards to what, or who is responsible for this societal direction that nobody seems to take credit for. The fact of the matter is that everyone is responsible for the shortened foresight. Everyone needs what they need (food, water, warmth). Our present dogmatic views of what we assume science is, are the main factors why we continue to skirmish over control of this global crude oil economic system. The crude oil economic system is in everyone's conscience whether they are in favor of continuing its usage or stopping it outright, subsequently leading to blaming others for the detrimental effects. Playing the blame game allows deception to spread far and wide, attracting an ensemble of logical fallacies while we all battle this conundrum out in public forums. These fallacies have propagated into our highest esteemed learning facilities, transforming fact and scientific principle into a more highly guarded dogma than any religion.

Engineering schools force feed this ideology into societal structure for the blatant purpose of continuing the principles that force Satanic energy platforms to reign supreme. While the opposing side of "education" (liberal/feminist dogma) pretends to be against the inherent value of crude oil and rallies against the continued usage of this substance, both sides fail to understand the basis of energy usage in this medium. The survival/success strategy associated with this Satanic energy platform, crude oil,  clouds any thought process not directly tied to that correlated Satanic energy principle. Defining a separation of energy perspectives would be a good start, but getting a freshly graduated engineer from Stanford to understand that there are different energy perspectives, is close to impossible. Likewise, getting a freshly graduated sociology major from a community college to understand these perspectives, is also close to impossible. Thankfully, most engineers at least understand what the scientific method is. Therefore, they will be the most likely to concede to my findings in this book. Feminists/liberals, and their hordes of arrogant, pretentious followers will have great difficulty understanding anything in their lives... much less what remains in this book. Try as both sides might, the technical aspects will be difficult to digest due to both perspectives of human "intelligence" having a fundamental association with the nomenclatures that I will be shedding light on.

Let's back up a bit shall we? We need to define a couple of terms so that confusion towards my dialect is hastened. I'll begin with the most confusing terms; Satanic energy, Satanic energy platforms, Satanically drenched education, etc etc... What does Satanic energy mean in this context? This is a complicated answer, so expect many examples in my explanation. First of all, I'll begin by explaining a bothersome topic for my own personal research on this subject. Satanic energy, and it's opposite, Divine energy are real, physical forms of energy. They both exist simultaneously, both are quantifiable, and both can be proven as scientific method researched fact.

For my entire life, until very recently, I was always plagued mentally by the way religious zealots speak of Satanic forces of evil, and Divine forces of "god." I always just assumed I was some sort of heathen due to the fact that I never once "felt the divine spirit," nor did I get possessed by Satanic evil forces, as these religious zealots define spirituality. Both perspectives seemed downright loony to me, especially since neither perspective was based in natural law. I tried to be good/conformitive to the ways of the bible, many times. I gave it an honest effort by showing up on time, paying attention, donating money and labor, reading and studying aspects of the bible given to me by the followers of that dogma, etc. None of it EVER felt as though I was "saving my soul" from anything or even scratching the surface of the essence of the "divine spirit" as described by religion itself. Logically, mechanically, reasonably, I could not allow myself to submerge in faith driven ideologies, OF ANY KIND. Maybe they were right, maybe they were wrong... These ideologies didn't matter because there was nothing I could do other than die to emphatically prove they were right or wrong. At that point I decided to shelf that philosophical approach to spirituality and search for cold hard truth and facts based in natural law. The methodology utilized was, the scientific method. You could say it became my own personal "religion."

While my perception of religious zealots entranced by these unseen forces always gave me an uneasy feeling, all religious platforms in modern day society, Satanism or the word Satanic, draw negative attention ubiquitously. People associate it with "the devil incarnate," pure evil, hatred, disgust, etc, and warn against its alluring qualities. Even people that aren't religious feel as though Satanism is evil, or at very least, detrimental to one's safety. One of my closest friends growing up had devout religious parents. They went to church almost every day, and to be fair, I enjoyed joining them occasionally for the funner aspects that accompanied the sermons. When I was 11 or 12, I remember asking my friends father after curiosity got the better of me:
"What is Satan?" I asked.
"The Devil." he replied matter of factly. Then I asked with genuine curiosity,
"Well then, what's the Devil?" As though he was excited to explain he answered happily,
"Fallen angel, blah blah blah, there to tempt you, etc etc, antichrist, blah blah" and the rambling continued for a solid 2 minutes uninterrupted.

I didn't say anything back because I thought it was made up fairy tale nonsense. My friend did as well, but he became a great source of knowledge in religious matters and helped me understand a great deal about Christianity's followers. The constant nagging from my internal bullshit meter never stopped red-lining during our discussions, and it didn't matter what religious philosophy professed because the "knowledge" I was receiving was inevitably tuned out. I just can't stoop to that level of blind trust. The reference to Satanism has hard correlative data as belonging to a physical evil force of some sort, and I searched for this evilness for my entire life. I was not trying to join with this force, but rather, define it in quantifiable truth. Realize my astonishment when I finally put the dialect references together... and bonafidely have hard evidence of what Satanism means, where Satanism originated, the actual people responsible for its continued usage, and how to stop its destructive tendencies. My astonishment came due to the simplicity of the defining qualities of Satanic energy. Just so we're clear, Satanic energy is not a dead end esoteric theology based in myth and legend. My research on this subject correlates to modern energy usage. Actual substances that are physically harmful, and spiritually degrading materials. Matter, that has real detrimental effects on every human.

Shifting gears to inject a critical component of this theory, we must delve into the machinations of John Keely first and foremost. John Ernst Worrell Keely was an inventor from Pennsylvania, USA. He was born on September 3rd, 1837, and died November 18, 1898. A brilliant machinist (especially considering the tooling of that era), he coined the term Sympathetic Vibratory Physics. A theory that entailed planes of existence, and how matter interacted with these planes. He theorized that space (as in outer-space) is filled with an ether that interacts with atomic matter. It's the fabric, or rather vaporic field that all matter exists within. It's better explained by a reference, as Wikipedia states:

Keely delivered descriptions of the supposed principles of his process on various occasions.

In 1884 following the demonstration of his "Vaporic gun":

    Stripping the process of all technical terms, it is simply this: I take water and air, two mediums of different specific gravity, and produces from them by generation an effect under vibrations that liberates from the air and water an inter atomic ether. The energy of this ether is boundless and can hardly be comprehended. The specific gravity of the ether is about four times lighter than that of hydrogen gas, the lightest gas so far discovered.
    —?New York Times, September 22, 1884

Following a demonstration in June 1885:

    It is an elaboration of interatomic ether by vibration. The atomic ether vibrates all around the molecules of matter. There is a magnetic force attached to it at the same time, and it assimilates with the molecular atomic aggregations - that is, assimilates with a certain attractive force that it is hard to tell what it is. I call it a vibratory negative. It doesn't act like a magnet drawing metals toward it. There is a certain magnetic effect about it that causes it to adhere by vibratory rotation to different forms of matter - that is the molecular, atomic, etheric, and ether-etheric. The impulse is given by metallic impulses, the rotary power that is formed by etheric vibration - that is the force that holds it in position.
    —?New York Times, June 7, 1885

Keely led a very secretive life and was also reluctant to share the knowledge he had obtained. Researching his life's work and invention catalogue is highly recommended, although I'll warn you, it's very difficult obtaining information on the man himself, or his work. What I've deduced from modern academics associated with Keely's inventions is that Keely was trying to tap into a fuel source that existed outside of molecular substance, and succeeded. Keely's inventions dealt with a more passive energy consumption. The machine Dale Pond restored (or tried to restore) had several passive functions that gathered strength and thrust from the cavitation and vaccuum forces interacting with each other. The recoverable energy from the system is barely negligible, but it proved Keely's theory. Keely had harnessed an energy structure that did not degrade. Quite literally, the machine would degrade and perish before its fuel source ran out... seemingly endless fuel if properly tapped into. A system quite different than the philosophies pushed in academia in Keely's time, as well as our modern technological era.

Dale Pond is the go to expert on everything Keely. Pond has done more for the deciphering of Keely's technologies, than any other researcher or academic figurehead. He has published several videos that have demonstrations on how the ethereal plane can be harnessed. He also delved into Keely's personal journals and combed through public records in an attempt to decode the technical prowess of Keely's mind. Pond succeeded on several levels and thanks to him, we understand a great deal more about Keely. Mr. Pond is not a machinist professionally, but he did learn the basics, expanded his knowledge, and replicated a partially working model of a John Keely motor. Dolan also tried to place a dialect structure to Keely's ideologies which is a very difficult thing to accomplish.

Pond's trickiest translation dealt with the ethereal plane's energy spectrum. Our current society's use of energy is entirely centered around the exploitation of matter. Wood, coal, natural gas, gasoline and other crude oil biproducts, nuclear fission/fusion, and all aspects of that spectrum of energy sources, existing outside of the ethereal plane phenomenon that Keely had discovered. The material fuel spectrum is entirely different from that of the ethereal plane's Sympathetic Vibratory Physics spectrum of energies within Keely and Pond's work. As a matter of fact, it is the quintessential opposite of the exploitation of matter strategies that society prescribes to at large. This energy dichotomy needed to have a nomenclature, as all new technological progress does. Mr. Dolan coined these opposite spectrums of energy as male, and female, respectively. Personally, I agreed with his choice in dialect at that time.

Male energy spectrums are what humanity has built our current society with from conception. Male/female seemed like the appropriate stance to take given the lists of various phenomenon that accompany the expressions of the energies as they are harnessed. A terminology base I used while explaining this ideology to people whom I personally came in contact with during conversations of this nature, was the similarities between the terms explosions and implosions. The male/female terminology was more encapsulating, but much more difficult to keep the listener focused on the technology, as opposed to some strange ego push that people naturally cling to when confronted with gender specific nomenclatures. You can imagine the back-tracking I had to do in these conversations when I said emphatically that male energy perspectives are destructive and toxic, BUT female energy perspectives are eternal, non toxic, and free for all to use... Yep, you guessed it... the feminists who caught wind of this dialect bolstered their own egos in a most disgusting display of pride and stupidity running congruently. Oppositely to that of the female terminology, men whom had a difficulty discerning the dialect specifics, also took pride in the destructive tendencies of the male energy perspectives.

As these conversations in my personal life started to happen more frequently, I found myself stuck in translation for more time than I cared to be. Every time I mentioned "female energy" I had to divert from the conversation's original intentions just to explain what "female energy" meant... Most of the conversations went something like this:

Friend/family member ponders to me, "Gas is going up again."
As my circle of friends can attest, I smuggly replied to statements like this arrogantly with, "Yeah, society needs to shift their entire conscience to the 'female perspective'."
Almost all men (mostly conservative in my group) abruptly contorted their face as they disgustingly replied back to me, "What are you? A faggy liberal or feminist?"
Humorously I replied back, "I'm the least feminist, least liberal person you know. This has nothing to do with humans. 'Female energy' perspectives exist outside of matter."
Then off to the races the conversation went...

As their faces shifted from disgust to curiosity, I knew I had them interested, and quite literally, that's the whole point. Stir intense emotional distress, then correct emotionally charged assumptions based on unknown dialect. I found as these conversations ended abruptly earlier in my attempts to stir contempt at these phenomenon. This same spectrum of energies has had many different nomenclatures through my education of it. Free energy, over-unity, perpetual motion, to name a few, but I found these connotations brought up emotions in people which had the opposite effect that I wanted it to have. It frustrated the every loving fuck out of me, and I'll never truly be able to profess the extreme angst I felt as I tried to explain what this phenomenon was. The language itself, the terminology... the actual nomenclature, was the only obstacle to attaining these technologies en masse. I'm no language expert, so naturally, after mounting frustrations the likes of which nobody I'm familiar with could understand... I clammed up. Somewhat "gave up" in trying to help translate these spectrums to the world for years. Although, I didn't stop my personal experiments, nor slow down my research into this subject.

In fact, quite the opposite. I doubled down in an attempt within myself to properly convey the nomenclatures which would have the proper emotional response. I searched for the better part of 17 years before I stumbled upon John Keely's work, specifically. Reading relative literature, Keely was mentioned on rare occasion. After reading copious amounts of relative literature with Keely as the focus, I watched a video related to the technology spectrums of Keely, and the narrator mentioned Dale Pond. A quick video search brought back a video entitled: Dale Pond-The Basics Of Sympathetic Vibratory Physics. To be honest, the presentation in the video was dull. It took place in the 1980s (apparently), and came across as more of a fund raising attempt, than a deciphering of knowledge. In Pond's defense, the audience added to that perspective, and Pond himself was timid in his approach to handling that dichotomy. The impression given was that Pond was indeed trying to obtain funding, as opposed to my approach or how I would have handled that conference... Brutal, uncomfortable, stern fact and truth. Feelings themselves, would have been the last thing on my mind, as this book's stern nature proves.

Pond's SVP video did reach a point of contention in the audience and myself internally. When he coined the terminology "female energy." It was a good platform of language for me to unleash my assault on normality. I enjoy making people feel uncomfortable in these types of dialects. From my perspective, I feel as though most people are derelicts in almost every aspect of life they prescribe to. Everything is taken for granted. For example; Every dumbass in the world uses a cellular phone, but my guess is less than 1% of them actually know how cellular technology works. Food production, animal husbandry, computer circuits, metallurgy, OIL!!!, etc... All of the technological applications humans use every single day are taken for granted. Very few people stray from their preferred pathway to relative comfort and downright laziness. If the educational information doesn't originate directly from people's employers, parents, or some other false idol given to them by a television set, people generally take a dumbed down, almost numb approach to research outside of these lackadaisical addictions.

"The female energy perspective is the answer to our technological concerns." I would state emphatically during a random encounter.
"Can I put it in my Corvette's gas tank? No? Then fuck off, I don't care." the morons in unison would whinge...

In reality the nomenclature, "male/female" energy perspectives, did not have a ubiquitous reaction from those whom I was trying to educate, however small that audience grew to be. Stupid women took pride in the terminology, completely misunderstanding the dialect and simultaneously ignorant to the fact that the human form itself (male and female) is born of and into a male energy perspective. In other words, women had pride in something they had no part in directly. A truly disgusting display usually founded in jaded ugly women that could not obtain the fairy tale life they expected... That they thought they were entitled to. Stupid men who scoffed at the "female energy" terminology were not much different. The repulsion that comes from submitting to accepting this new nomenclature was blaringly obvious, even if both genders didn't show it or admit it outright. Besides the occasional scoffing, the terminology did hit its mark for stirring up some people's intuitive curiosity on rare occasions within certain types of encounters. Namely, family, friends, and those whom already understood the basic principles that I was trying to explain.

A couple of years went by hammering this idea of a male energy perspective being of the explosive variety, and the female energy perspective being of the implosive variety, respectively. My skills were honed in on quickly shifting focus away from the initial emotional response to the terminology by flooding the perception of my listeners with immediate examples. Something like this...

"Hey Brian, what kinds of projects are you working on with your lathe and mill?" A friend of mine would inquire...
"I'm working on a couple of projects... A nitinol engine and a cavitation water heater." I'd smuggly reply, baiting for a response...
"What the hell is Nitinol? And did you say copulation heater?" A befuddled friend would inquire...
"Well, Nitinol is a metal with curious memory attributes, and no... I said CAVITATION water heater." Degrading their pride with my response...
"Oh. Never heard of Nitinol. Neat. I'll look into it. Now, about this cavitation water heater... I'm completely lost. What does that mean and how are you heating the water." Most curious responders would inquire...
"Cavitation is a phenomenon that exists outside of the material energy perspectives. When cavitation occurs, heat is a biproduct of the implosion bubble. This phenomenon exists in the female energy perspective, the implosion side specifically, as opposed to the explosion side of energy perspectives, or rather "male" energy perspective." I would educate...
"Wow, that's really interesting... How'd you do it... blah blah blah."

And that was how I morphed the terminology to equate my intentions as quickly as possible, while keeping the focus of my "students" away from their initial natural reactions, dialectically. I hammered these points home at almost every conversational opportunity (much to the disdain of my wife). I tried to walk a fine line between appearing annoying and drawing in curiosity at a family reunion while honing these nomenclatures in. My wife's family, specifically... My wife's family has always been loving towards me, and this particular grouping was a bunch of baby-boomers, mostly male. I felt as though I was in welcoming accommodations, and in hindsight, I was. My father in law particularly, as always, was very accepting and curious about everything I was trying to convey. His brothers and sister followed suit with his curious nature. At least that's how it appeared initially. They could have been ravaging my ideas internally, and I think one of the brothers did just that! Either way, they allowed my intrusions into their serene family gathering. They welcomed me, accepted me, and ultimately, loved me. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the great 2019 Florida Super Bowl Trip (7 wins!), I enjoyed every minute of your company. Love you all, very much.

My familial upbringing was not based on love. My relationship with my parents was based more in the realm of inconvenience. The more inconvenient my presence was, the less I was respected and loved. My brother did a good job of fucking everything up in our household and leaving me in his wake of disfunction to add to the rift between my parents and myself. I grew to hate my brother for it, and was disgusted by my mother's coddling and idiotic enabling of his derelict malfunctions. The love my mother bestowed upon my brother, regardless of how intricate his fuck-up-ology progressed, made me sick then... and especially now. Needless to say, my education in familial love ties was almost non existent. For our recent ten year anniversary party at my house, I invited 10 blood relatives and their families. 2 showed up; my cousin and my mother. My mother left the party after about an hour, while my cousin stayed for days with her husband and both children. It's safe to say that my family has degenerated to complete disfunction. It'd be difficult to even call us a family at this point.

My wife's family changed that for me. Going to a family reunion at all for me, from either side of my parents was literally NEVER heard of. That Super Bowl family reunion was the first family reunion that I've ever attended which I was actually a part of... Married in, but still, they accepted me. And that lone event is what changed me. It transmogrified my essential being, and I'm not overshooting the mark by iterating it in that manner. It had an almost "religious" affect on me internally. Struggled greatly to understand these feelings during the following weeks. Emotions ran deep during that time period. I remember crying during movies that weren't even sad, and had various other emotional outbursts, but held them internally as often as I could. All the while pushing myself towards energy independence, and the laden struggle to apply a proper dialect to a phenomenon that will reshape the world. On top of all of that, I was dealing with a very disabling disease that kept me bed ridden 90% of the time. The volume of internal conflicts on many fronts coupled with the physical sickness made me crash emotionally. I felt broken, useless, overwhelmed... I contemplated suicide. Not to relieve my pains, but more so to alleviate my wife from the pain she felt due to my present situation. I truly felt bad for those around me, those who had to suffer through my presence, those who had to listen to my ramblings, those who were now obligated to "love" me. One of my many illnesses (hidradenitis suppurativa) was present in Florida... in a very big way. I came within 5 minutes of having to go to emergency surgery after a day filled with driving, boat rides, and a pizza party.


*Internal Addendum 10/1/2019* Hidradenitis Supprativa is a genetic disorder that brings a considerable amount of pain, embarrassment, and suffering to those affected by its sudden intrusion into one's life. I've always been known as a hard working, dedicated employee to whomever I was working for at the time. Unfortunately, in October of 2018, my illness was running amok, and the illness cost me my job. The symptoms of hidradenitis supprativa create large pustules in areas of the body that are prone to sweaty dark conditions (crotch, armpits, chest, buttocks, etc). The symptoms of my particular affliction center around the groin area of my body. Generally speaking, the hotter the weather is and the sweatier that weather makes me, the larger these pustules grow causing all kinds of inherent difficulties in dealing with this medical condition. A significant amount of pressure builds up within these pustules leading to pain and discomfort that is unbearable after a while, especially in warmer conditions. The conditions at my place of employment where I was let go were not accommodating to my situation, at all. Hot, dirty, and a general attitude amongst the management and ownership of the company that led to very long strenuous hours. After struggling with these harsh conditions (in the summer and fall heat), I had developed side affects to my already grotesque medical condition.

My series of pustules were all swollen and seemingly taking on infection. When that stage of hidradenitis supprativa is reached, other areas of the body start to compensate for the inflammation that is present in the affected regions. My lymph nodes became swollen and distressed, which led to a constant flu-like feeling after waking up every morning, that began to stay with me throughout the day. After a two day stretch where I was driving a very old broken dump truck that I was unable to turn the heater off within the cab... for 12-14 hour shifts on both days... I had to call off of work sick to recuperate. The morning that I was planning on returning to work (and possibly quit due to the harsh environment), I was called at home by the owner of the company and let go immediately. Although I was planning on moving on from that company, getting fired for the first time in my life sent shock waves through my psyche and brought me that much closer to wanting death.

The average time span it takes to diagnose hidradenitis supprativa is 7 years. Most of us afflicted with this genetic disorder visit emergency rooms when the situation becomes unbearable, and I was no different. The doctors that are responsible for treating emergency patients, generally, do not have the expertise it takes to diagnose this disorder effectively. More often than not, people in my situation are put on a regiment of antibiotics and told to see a specialist. In my case specifically, that meant a trip to the urologist due to the placement of these pustules. It took weeks to see a urologist in the area I was living at the time, so I was put on antibiotics with anti inflammatory medication within them to help cope with the swelling until I could see a urologist for surgical removal of the sinus tracts/pustules that were now riddling my groin area. My appointment to see a urologist for surgery was scheduled after the Florida trip described within these texts.

My first bout with this genetic disorder took place when I was 15 years old. In the 24 years since I was first "introduced" to my situation, I've had hundreds of battles with hidradenitis supprativa taking over my body's groin region. My emergency room visits have yielded three immediate surgical procedures due to the pustules breaking open on the inside of my body (as opposed to the skin openings), which is accompanied by a massive swelling episode making it very difficult to walk. Large swaths of flesh are removed during these procedures and the recovery time has made me miss a significant amount of work during those episodes at my places of employment over the years. Being well informed of this situation after many trips to the emergency room, I began to take matters into my own hands... surgically. My personal diagnosis of hirdadenitis supprativa took 24 years to receive a proper diagnosis, so I got used to the procedure that I would have to perform regularly. What I would do initially, after my wife was either asleep or at work, was to sterilize my blades (sometimes razor blades, sometimes steak knives, sometimes needles). Then I would sit in front of a mirror spread out on a dark colored towel so that I could view the groin area in its entirety. After a few deep breaths, I would plunge the blade into the swollen region and cut a half inch opening through the sinus tract/pustule. After the contents (mainly blood) would spill out, I would rinse the area and internal sinus tract/pustule with hydrogen peroxide.

Unfortunately, this was only a temporary fix. After a few days of maintaining (to the best of my abilities) a sterile environment around the open wounds, the cuts that I had made would inevitably heal over again. The swelling would commence almost immediately, and I would have to repeat the procedure several times. At the time of the Florida trip, I had done this several times to three different pustules. Although I was on heavy doses of antibiotics, the heat and humidity of that region brought on several episodes where my fear of going to the emergency room for another surgical procedure was weighing down my mind. The night following our boat excursion was accompanied by these fears overwhelming my conscience. I was terrified of ruining this lovely family's reunion due to my illness. Unfortunately, we had to fly to Florida so the only "blade" available to me was a set of fingernail clippers. I did my best to sterilize them after my wife went to bed, and after an excruciating back and forth in my mind, I plunged the sharp end of the clipper shank into my crotch and shot blood all over the bathroom floor. It was extremely painful to say the least, but the mental anguish of ruining this family's reunion was now gone, and with that in mind, I was happy enough to continue faking my smiles and attempting to not draw attention to this dilemma I was inundated with.

I've been trapped in this dilemma several times over those 24 years, and only twice did I let my situation get the best of me. After my diagnoses several weeks later, I began to do research on hidradenitis supprativa at great length. From the statistical analysis found on a few different websites, 1 in 400 are affected by this genetic disorder. Many people have to deal with these situations on a daily basis. Consequently, the embarrassment that follows these "outbreaks" ruins relationships, ends careers, and leads to suicide more often than not. While the pustules themselves appear to those unaffected by it personally to be a cleanliness issue, they are genetic in origin, and due to that prognosis, are incurable no matter how clean and sterile one makes their affected area. I am not asking for your sympathy in describing my situation, and although many of you will be sympathetic to my battle with this affliction, I ask that you concern yourselves with those who have a difficult time coming to terms with their own personal course within the battles against this genetic disorder. I felt that this description was necessary due to the absence of a video production segment following this book. My plan was to explain this situation to you in that format, but my time is running out, and I needed to clarify the events in question due to their significant intrusion. I apologize for the graphic nature of my reality, and hope that you can continue reading with YOUR afflictions as MY primary focus. This is the end of the internal addendum. Back to the storyline.


After I performed the procedure to alleviate the swelling myself in the hotel room, then cleaned up the blood and took a shower, I tried to sleep. Doubled up my meds and tried to maintain for a couple more days. I held this information back vigorously during my visit from the people we were visiting. My poor wife had to shoulder that information, while still trying to enjoy HER family reunion. Putting on a mask wasn't so difficult. I've been through much worse and came out smiling, or rather, pretending to smile many times while in physical pain. People close to me understand this. Returning home did not have the affect I thought it would. Normally for my condition, surgery is required. BUT my new team of doctors would like to take a newly formulated approach where surgery is not required. Waiting for test results to clear me for this medication (Humira) takes a very long time to conclude. In the meantime while waiting, no changes were apparent in my ever worsening affliction. I was stuck in a rut. Waiting for months at that point. At any moment, even as I write these very words... I could need to be rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. Originally received, this was terrible news, devastating really. Surgery could take a while to heal, but at least a road to recovery was possible, even if it was short lived before the next bout. This was my emotional AND physical rock bottom. I honestly felt as though I was better off dead, and everyone else was better off without me. I sat crying several nights alone thinking about the conundrum that sat before me.

If I end it all myself, how embarrassing would that be to my wife, whom is a serious professional in her field of work? A very high ranking (so to speak) member of upper management in a very esteemed company. If I ended it all, arguably-justifiably, would she forgive me? Would my children forgive me? Honestly I really do not care at all what anyone in my family thinks except for my father (occasionally), my cousin (the one family member that came to my anniversary party), my cousin's mother, and yep... that about does it. Do I care what they would think? Fortunately, my cousin (from my mother's side) and father were both logical people, meaning they would understand, at least that's what I hoped for. I was close to being okay with leaving this world on my own terms. Every day brought me a little closer. My sickness grew and my ability to operate my tools, do general car maintenance, take care of the yard, etc, was non existent. I felt hopeless, helpless, and pathetic. And I was... on all three accounts. All the while, my wife never faltered. She encouraged me to push through, even though there was no real discernible light at the end of the tunnel. Regardless, at my worst moment, she treated me with respect and dignity. Considering I had none of that even for myself, she might have been the only person on the entire planet that felt that way about me. My sincerest and deepest gratitude is yours, my endearing wife. I love you.

Then one morning in the midst of this ordeal a surprising thing happened to me while browsing my beloved /pol/. Brenton Tarrant decided to take the problem of passive white genocide, forced by the political elite in his home country of New Zealand, into his own hands. Brenton Tarrant stormed into an Arab filled mosque (that was previously a Catholic Church) and unleashed a torrent of bullets towards the foreign invaders inside. He killed 50 or 51 total, and streamed the entire event live. I just happened to click on that particular thread and watched the entire ordeal in real time. Shortly after the shooting, I dug deep to find out as much as I could about Brenton Tarrant. I didn't have to search far for he had given everything up free to the public in the form of a manifest titled fittingly: The Great Replacement.

Tarrant did a very scholarly job piecing together his struggle, and he did so in a poetic and humorous way. He remained factual when relevant, but stern and justified in his beliefs. It was truly moving. Whether you agree with his actions or not, the manifest "The Great Replacement," is a must read. At the very least it's funny as hell, especially if you're familiar with 4chan /pol/ lingo. When I finished reading The Great Replacement and watching the videos Tarrant mentioned within the manifest, a great sense of pride washed over me. There are many black organizations worldwide which have killers in their ranks. The slow, eventual white genocide happening currently in South Africa is a direct testament to black on white violent crime. Mexicans and their counterparts, Central and South Americans, leech from North America pathetically like beaten dogs. Forcing themselves into poverty and filth, most of their low IQ fueled tendencies gravitate towards quick money. The summation of that lifestyle is either murder, or prison invariably leaving a wake of death and degradation wherever they go. Arabs are dumb enough to believe in a deity whose sole purpose is violence, fornication, enslaving, and force marrying a 9 year old little girl. In some of those backwards thinking Arab countries, it's still legal to marry a 9 year old... as long as the parents consent. DISGUSTING!!! 9 years old!!! At any rate, Muslims, and all forms of Arabs, are killers. Scariest part is you never know when one of those parasites is going to snap and go full Jihad Truck of Peace on a city street.

Blacks, Mexicans, Arabs and all Muslims regardless of ethnicity have a certain group of people that fight their perceived enemy. They're obviously all either batshit crazy or low IQ wielding morons prone to violent reactions. I lean towards the latter and use governmentally researched statistics to back up those facts. Not theory any more... FACTS. Until Brenton Tarrant fought back against the worldwide invasion of white societies, I felt hopeless about these problems. After Tarrant's rampage, for the first time ever, I felt what it was like to have someone willing to lay down their life for me. For white people's safety... For OUR cause. This feeling was odd, and after reading Tarrant's manifest, I agreed with him wholeheartedly. These emotions have festered deep inside for a very long time and have turned into outright disgust. The constant flow of illegal aliens AND THEIR OFFSPRING WHICH WE ARE STUCK WITH, the majority black cities that sky rocket our national crime rate statistics with their constant murders and drug dealing gang related horseshit, the constant Muslim attacks on white societies worldwide, ETC ETC ETC, became so inundating, the only course of action seemed to simply ignore it. As in, it's all so tiresome...

After slowly marinating for a few days within this newly acquired pride towards myself, my country, and my race... the excitement died down when Tarrant's predictions starting coming true. The political elite shitheads of New Zealand took the virtue signaling even further than he could have imagined. The prime minister even wore a disgusting hijab headscarf in public. What an absolute sellout to perceived moral fiber within liberal-feminist degeneracy, shrouded in zero integrity. She started to strip the entire populace of New Zealand of their right to bare arms, and currently speaking, has almost succeeded. Surely, by the time this book is finished, not one citizen of New Zealand will so much as have a BB gun. So naturally, in my medically induced atrophic state, I went back to lurking the threads that followed this event to learn more, and surfed the web. Nothing special had changed, and feeling pathetic was constant in my life due to my medical issues, so stuck in a rut was where I was again... An all too familiar place.

Then one morning out of the blue (3/20/2019), I got a phone call from my brother that turned out to be the straw that broke the camel's back... A few days prior I had gotten a call from my mother. Just hearing her voice is enough to annoy me and put me in a bad mood, but I answered it regardless. Her feminist ways have driven a wedge into this family for decades, and as I became enlightened on race realism, ancient technologies, and the dichotomy that relationship held, the more I was disgusted at every action my mother took. Even though these feelings festered for years, I still respected my mother, at least enough to placate her desire to be a part of my life. That fateful phone call was different. I felt terrible that day, but was slowly trying to accomplish some yard work and maintenance around my house. My lymph nodes were swollen which made my ears and throat very painful and irritated, plus I was in a generally bad mood from the constant onslaught of news stories related to the illegal alien caravans. Those internal emotions from her direct part in that crises, that I've trained myself to hold back in her presence, were dying faster than my empathy for these parasites... which had already died years prior.

A general ambiance of disgust filled my tone while I answered her questions about my health and well being. My mother was recently allowed into the foray of my medical problems, so she was aware that I was in bad shape and wanted to be a part of my recovery, or at least be informed on it. The angry tone in my voice after the pile up of reasons forced me to comply with my emotional state. My answers were short, unapologetic, and stern, but remained based on my health... until my mother asked why I was angry. I simply stated that "There are too many reasons to explain in this short of a phone call, and you aren't willing to listen to them anyways." She abruptly ended the conversation, much to my enjoyment. "Thank god," I thought. At least I didn't have to deal with her feminist garbage... or so I originally thought.

When I picked up my brother's phone call I didn't realize who it was at first. I deleted his number years ago during a nasty fight where he was blacked-out drunk and saying the most horrible vile things you could imagine to me. All I saw was a number on my caller ID, no name. I was also sleeping when he rang, so my initial "hello" was groggy and confused sounding. After his reply, I asked, "Who is this?" He sounded a very boisterous "YOUR BROTHER!" as his reply. My tone sunk as I realized he had gotten me to answer the call. Annoyed as all hell, as I am every time I speak to my brother, I internally calmed myself down and submitted to the conversation. He then asked me how I was doing. I yawned, then gave a very short rundown on how shitty I was feeling and that it would never really get better.

Cutting my reply to his inquiry short, he stated very sternly, "Why are you always stressing out "MY" mom???!!!" in a very angry tone. Confused, I asked what he was talking about. He then relayed to me that my mother had called him very shortly after our last phone call, and told him that I was being overtly mean with no reason behind it. I snapped. My next reply cut him off during his drunken attempt at appearing strong with "Brother, be very careful when choosing how you reply to my answers..." I was then cut off and inundated with terrible insults and screaming. I hung up, obviously. The text messages started to come in in heavy succession directly after the phone call. We went at it for hours... He insulted my wife, my ex's, my life's choices, and my children in the most disgusting tirade of diatribes imaginable.

I have a developmentally disabled son who suffers from an extremely rare genetic condition. It's called a "micro deletion syndrome," which is a fancy way of saying some of his genes were deleted at conception. Impossible to fix due to the condition essentially being in every cell of his body. Weak bones and a very small vocabulary that can only be "heard" because we've taught him how to speak through a computer. He can type and read no problem, so we are able to communicate with him sparingly. None of our struggles mattered to my disgusting brother during his insult brigade. He ripped my son up and down because he's "retarded" (inaccurate, but my brother is a moron), and that my ex and I had conceived him out of wedlock. It wasn't the first time he had done this... It was the third occasion he had done this to me. In various other past skirmishes he had taken the argument to that level two other occasions, but today was different. In the past when he would stoop to that level of idiocy, I'd simply leave and ignore him, BUT NOT THAT DAY.

Ever since I first met my brother's illegal alien wife, I was disgusted. She looks like a Jew, is quite dumb (as her genetically derived IQ would suggest), and has 9 or 10 illegal alien brothers and sisters. I'd go hang out with them in her house from time to time, but I never stepped into that house without a general feeling of disgust. In general, her presence in my life made me uneasy. I watched her leech onto my brother regardless of his actions. During their marriage so far, my brother has become addicted to cocaine and crack-cocaine, devolved into an alcoholic, and has injected numerous felony and misdemeanor charges mixed into those addiction laden attributes. At last check, he had "achieved" his fourth DUII, had been fired for the umpteenth time, and was "considering" going into rehabilitation for the... I don't know... 6th? 7th time? I lost track. Everything that has entered into my brother's life and family by association, has been terrible for him AND US. My parents, in their empathy drenched, hippy-like feminism induced mental fog that has plagued them for decades, they've bestowed countless money, support, and niceties onto my brother and his illegal alien drenched family.

My parents gave that little leech my brother married, thousands of dollars so that she could get her citizenship. Unfortunately during that time period, my brother and his disgusting wife spent all of that money on drugs, alcohol, and various other frivolities. My mother and parasitic step-father, happily babysat their mutt-offspring almost every weekend when they were young. Their actions were directly enabling the disfunction. I, on the other hand, worked a very difficult schedule and saved every penny I could. Several times when I had the ability to work overtime (which I did as often as possible), but was watching my son for the weekends generally, and missed out on some much needed funding to my dilemma with my son. During that time period (early 2000s) I really needed the money desperately, but didn't have anyone that would help watch my son in a desperate situation. I reluctantly called my mother one evening during one of these overtime call ins, essentially begging her for help to watch my son. To which she replied "I'm too busy, and I just can't handle that alone, Brian." I was angry, but used to that treatment from her regarding my children, THAT CHILD specifically.

After submitting to not being able to work, my son and I headed out to get dinner. Wendy's was my choice that night. My son loved the chicken nuggets, and I'm admittedly addicted to burgers. Wendy's was on the way to my mom's house, plus I was curious why she was so busy and I wanted to change how she felt about watching my son, so I went to her house unannounced. I bought several extra burgers and fries so nobody would be left out as my son and I scarfed down our food. Pulled up in front of my mother's house, shut off the car, then opened the door. The first thing I heard was children laughing and carrying on as children do... but the sound was coming from my mother's back yard. It was a Saturday in May, and the weather was warm. Apparently, that was the best time to go out back and play. I was instantly angry and devastated. I sneakily walked to the entrance of her garage that allows for a view of the back yard to her house, and there I saw them... my brother's children. My mother could not be bothered with watching my son as I worked... because she was watching my brother's kids. Let that sink in.

I had always suspected that that was what was happening, but this was the first/last time where I would allow my mother to affect my emotions through lies and treachery. After that incident, I refused to talk to her for years, and when I finally broke silence with her, it was because I thought I was dying. Even after I decided to let her back into my life, the feelings that enraged me that fateful evening clouded every conversation we had thereafter. My mother brought about feelings of disgust for many different reasons, but that particular reason stuck in my psyche. There's just too much history there to come back from it, and I couldn't (and didn't even want to) control it. I wanted her to feel that pain, just like she had done to me.

The only people that were/are aware of this story are my wife and I. My brother is arrogantly unaware of the disgust people feel for him in general, so verbally attacking my son during our conversation wasn't surprising. He had become comfortable attacking my son, and when I snapped, I laid it all out there for him. How I felt about his disgusting wife, his addictions, his criminality, his lack of career, lack of ownership of anything (car, house, food [ALL supplied by my mother and step-father to this day]), everything I could think of that bothered me about his life's decisions. I kept the barrage of truth simple and firm. My REAL inner feelings came out for the first time ever during our argument that day (3/20/2019). Some truly nasty shit. The stuff you hold back from everyone. The real inner feelings, where politeness and political correctness are nowhere to be found. Just raw true emotion... but factual in delivery.

Of course my brother was not used to me standing up for myself. It had never happened in our entire 39 year history, at least not to that extent. My brother then devolved his tactics during our conversation posturing from ridiculous platitudes. He said things like, "I'm telling everyone what you said." and "You better not ever talk to MY mom again or come to MY city, 'cause we'll fuck you up." and "you had better keep your gun on you at all times..." You know, general idiocy coupled with arrogance. And all I was saying in response were my actual feelings. I wasn't threatening him with violence or warning him that I was "coming to get him" or anything similar... Just iterating how I actually felt about what he had done with his life. The delivery was shrouded in disgust, but it was fair and stern. The reality of the situation took ahold of my brother and in a rage fueled by alcohol proceeded to call everyone in my family he could... but the only one who answered was my mother.

An hour or two after our battle had simmered down, I got a call from my father. He had received many many texts and phone calls about our argument as it was happening. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Many times my alcoholic brother called my sleeping father in the middle of the night to berate him on his past's life choices. My father and I were both used to my brother's antics. My father and I discussed the argument at length, and I admitted to him that I unleashed my true feelings on my brother for the first time ever. My father was surprised but not shocked, for we had discussed this situation at length many times over the years. After arriving at the same solution (never talking to him again), a calm washed over me that I was extremely unfamiliar with. My father, for all of his faults and procrastinations, took my side emphatically. We had bonded over this terrible situation. I acutely remember telling my father I loved him at the end of the phone call... and I hadn't said that out loud to the man in 10-15 years. A mundane aspect of most people's relationships generally, but to me it was significant... because I meant it.

The conversation was discussed with my wife when she got home from work. She was already aware of what was happening because my idiotic alcoholic brother had the nerve to call her directly while we were arguing. He left several messages, but my wife ignored him as most people usually do. Other than that, the argument wasn't brought up again, and remains at armistice currently, although I will NEVER willingly speak to my brother again. Over the next few days I replayed the argument over and over again to myself. I was trying to place an insult on my brother that was fitting to his general degeneracy, disdain for purity, and complete lack of cohesion that he was directly responsible for. The usuals nomenclatures that follow that line of thinking entered my mind when trying to place a proper description on how I felt about my brother and all of his faults; piece of shit, traitor, usurper, cunt, etc but nothing truly encapsulated the very real hatred I had for him and everything he stood for. His evilness. His degeneracy. His ignorance.

Then it dawned on me... my brother is evil incarnate, otherwise known as, wait for it... Satan. I would never give a complete loser, as he is, the credit for being THE Satan from biblical prophecy. He was more of a Satan to our entire family structure, not humanity as a whole. Everything he has done in his life has caused controversy, strife, stress, anger and hatred with every member of my family. To be honest, I can't remember any news from his teen years onward that didn't have a detrimental physical effect on himself, and an emotional detrimental effect on everyone around him. Even the things he IS proud of, are disgusting to the rest of us in this family... save for HIS mother. His children, which are his only source of pride, at best are anchor babies to an illegal alien. Literally nothing, NOT ONE THING, has been overtly positive for himself or his blood related "loved" ones. Pure unadulterated evil. I coined him a Satanist (even though neither he nor I are religious), then comfortably lay at ease in my summation and chosen nomenclature for him.

Things got back to "normal" after that fateful argument. Medically, things stayed the same with me... In fact even as I write this, THINGS ARE STILL THE SAME, but I digress... One night after all of this had taken place, and a very overburdening weight was lifted off of my soul's shoulders, my wife wanted to watch a show about Egypt, and I happily obliged. It was more of an educational show... more to my liking as she sometimes gravitates towards the sub-moronic "Real Houswives of Who-Gives-a-Fuckistan"  type tomfoolery, so I was somewhat surprised that she wanted to watch that kind of a show with me, but happy nonetheless. She slowly fell asleep at some point, but I hadn't noticed. She was startled when I blurted out "That Zahi Hawass guy is a real piece of shit, he reminds me of my brother." Realizing that I woke her up, I apologized (as I normally do [it isn't a rare occurrence to wake her]), and she went back to sleep almost instantly. A biproduct of waking her is usually my dog, Tank notices she's awake and gets VERY EXCITED! So I put a collar on him and walked him around my property to calm him down and let her snooze. Same ole same ole, I figured. As usual, I had vigorously been speaking to the burning bush that evening to ease my pains, and from that an epiphany formed. Zahi Hawass is a Satanist, just like my brother.

As with my brother, I could NEVER give an academic fraud like Zahi Hawass the distinction of being THEE original Satan, so I improvised. They're both Satanists. Good, done. Figured that one out... Then an unexplained coincidence happened. I started cataloguing mentally all of the figures that ubiquitously had these newly coined "Satanic" undertones. People that take, more than they give... people that generally degenerate the societal structures around them, to be more precise. The Clintons, The Bush family, career politicians, the lobbyists that support them, Bernie Sanders with his subversive Jewish ways of preaching socialism from a bourgeois tower, the morons willing to fall for that trickeration, people that hurt animals, money addicts, drug addicts, whores, adulterers, liars... Then the correlations started to dawn on me. Religous doctrine, The Ten Commandments specifically.

OOOOOOOHHHHH, I get it now!!! Or so I thought at that time. "Satanist" fits perfectly with how I felt about that degenerate group of people. I hinted to my wife that I was leaning towards religious philosophy as a base motive in my mind, much to her surprise. She knows I'm a technical guy in my mind AND heart, so her shock wasn't unexpected. I spared her the entire philosophical iteration that this book entails, and gently, briefly described the recent associations. I held back on the Satanic reference specifically, for I didn't want her to think I had turned into a preacher, or other similar nonsense. I kept that nomenclature to myself. This seemingly, at that point, wasn't a major epiphany, and the realist in me still hadn't submerged in the theological spectrum of philosophy. So in short, I considered it more of an inside joke... with... well... myself.  

Certain things drudgingly moved forward on my medical "advice" and I got a slim glimmer of hope one day. I don't remember what happened specifically (there's so many things at this point), but it drove me to be a little bit happier. I got back to work on my property, out in the sun, sculpting the landscape, creating huge burn piles, birds chirping, my koi pond waterfalls massaging my ear drums, sweat rolling off my back, fingernails filled with dirt, huge rocks unearthed and tossed aside... yeah I was feeling gooooooooood! It had been months since I was willing to take that chance with all of the medical problems at the forefront. Worked my ass off for two straight days and made a massive burn pile with all of the shrubbery I was ripping out. On the third day my wife and I tried to burn the shrubbery and dead wood. The burn pile I had amassed would not catch fire, no matter how hard we tried. 1/2 gallon of diesel, and 1/2 a bottle of propane with countless Amazon and cereal boxes from months of steady build up, and the pile just would not build proper coals to sustain a fire. Almost 4 hours of trying, and nothing to show for it. "Oh well. We can try again tomorrow." we thought and went back to watching TV, defeated.

That evening I desperately waited for my wife to pass out. My medical situation became very bad over the previous few days of work in my yard, and my willingness to throw caution to the wind came at a price. Two of my three currently active areas doubled in size. They had filled with blood, and ignoring them allowed for their advancement. One of the two "blood sacks" had burst open from the inside and infected a very large area, roughly the size of a baseball. The other one was "just" advancing under my skin. I felt this happening as I cooked dinner and tried to put on the "everything's cool" mask to my wife. I was desperately trying to NOT go to the emergency room. As soon as she dozed off, I rushed to the bathroom, grabbed the knife, alcohol, and Hydrogen Peroxide on my way, then stripped naked in the bathroom shower stall. Hunkered down, dowsed the knife in alcohol, braced for the pain, then gouged the blood sack with the tip of the knife. Blood sprayed all over the shower as I kept pressure on the protrusion. Then the second one, the one which had burst already inward, I dowsed the bloody knife in alcohol again and plunged it about 1/2 inch deep. The blood didn't burst, but more so oozed out, and was much darker. I filled my syringe with Hydrogen Peroxide and repeatedly filled the both sacks until the fluid stopped bubbling. As I scrubbed the mess off of myself and the shower as I showered, I became deeply depressed again.

I had JUST gotten the courage to go work on something, ANYTHING, physical in months. Two days in, my worst fear was correct, so I again submitted to a couch potato lifestyle... medically induced that is and continued contemplating suicide with every waking moment. Some people ascribe to live in the reality of constant laziness and no forward momentum in their life goals... I'm not one of those people. My frustration and discontent internally grew at my situation steadily, but the future had hopes of possible relief from my condition, so I remained optimistic, however slight that optimism was. My guess is my wife was completely unaware of these changes. I can be a pretty good actor when I feel it's required, especially when it regards her well being.

Returning to that familiar rut, I doubled down on my burning bush antics in an attempt to maintain some sense of happiness. My wife, bless her soul, smothered my depression in cakes, cookies, ice cream, candy, pop, and a bountiful ensemble of delicious meats like lobster and ribeye steaks. She was trying to make me happy in anyway that she could, and it did help my mental fortitude pushing forward through this mental state. In between then and now presently, bouts with extreme boredom and cabin fever are common. I've sat around watching movies, videos, read 3 books in that time that I've already read twice prior, thousands of articles on technical applications of every tool known to man, hundreds of articles about my condition, and the list goes on and on... Anything and everything I could do to try to remain hopeful that at some point I'd get relief... maybe. Then after several days of not much more than sitting around hoping for a miracle while simultaneously begging for death, I figured everything out. EVERYTHING I was going through was on purpose. My conclusion was that there were no coincidences. My death was imminent.


Addendum 10/3/2019

The Wrong Path chapter is dedicated to my life and how my abilities as a Christ were realized. Firstly, humanity has to acknowledge how their society functions. H.E.L.L. stands for Human Evolution Long Lasting in acronym form. While religious zealotry has brought the zeitgeist of modern society into an arrogant posture in regards to what nomenclatures stand for, human evolution long lasting is the current pace at which we live. Humanity utilizes evolutionary theory to gather conclusions to scientific principles, and in so doing, has departed from the reality of who we are, and what we are doing in this current timeline sequence. We use evolution as a basis for everything from medical treatments, to energy usage, and a massive array of similar subjects. While "science" itself has continued to be utilized as a political strategy to discern superiority over others that base their belief system on creationism, evolutionists cannot prove their own theory. Within the boundaries of that context, we as a species, have allowed ourselves to be consumed by evolutionary dogma. Whether you agree with the acronym or not, Human Evolution Long Lasting is exactly what humanity is currently submerging our collective conscience in. Human education has played into this arrogant posture.

Correlative data that suggests evolutionary theory is accurate, does not prove evolution to be a sound basis for life as we know it. Doctors, engineers, chemists, mathematicians, etc, all have studies that correlate to the evolutionary theory, and before the proof is present, these same learned individuals arrogantly profess that the correlative data that consumes their personal work, makes evolution a foregone conclusion. These same people, who've obtained numerous credentials to show that their education places them on a hierarchical scale, arrogantly utilize their credentials to signify their opinions as better than that of a creationists, respectively. The fact remains however, that no matter how well educated an individual may be in any given field of study, evolution is just a theory. It will remain that way indefinitely. The arrogance present in someone's mind, that subsequently believes that human life was created by chance and humanity is in control of its own destiny, is gargantuan in inception. This same arrogant approach to the most basic fundamental philosophies that plague every human alive, is the very same posture that has brought humanity to the brink of total annihilation. Whether you choose to believe humanity is staring extinction directly in the face, or not, it's difficult to argue against the countless methods to which extinction can happen currently.

Ecosystem collapse, financial warfare, resource depletion, nuclear holocaust, magnetic pole shift, tectonic plate realignment, sun flare, civil conflicts, meteorite/comet strikes, gamma ray bursts, etc etc etc. The ability to deal with these threats has a base principle in our current understanding of what we are, and what we are doing here. From an evolutionist's perspective, a meteorite strike would seem impossible to deal with under current technological perspectives. The arrogance that consumes evolutionists, also allows them to internally placate the lack of technological advancement which would bring a satisfactory conclusion to a meteorite strike possibility. "Oh well! Nothing we can do about it." The smug evolutionist would state. But is that true? Has humanity ever collectively done "the right thing?" Are these same arrogant fools in agreement that humanity is "doing everything possible" to do the right thing? Creationists on the other hand, might get ridiculed by modern "science" dogma chasing zealots, but they are trying to understand what "the right way" is. In so doing, they have a much better chance at receiving help for these seemingly (in the eyes of science) insurmountable tasks, that would otherwise be completely out of our realm of correcting. To a creationist, there is always a bigger fish. To an evolutionist, humanity is "the most important" fish. Most evolutionists believe in extraterrestrial life that is much more advanced than our own planet's current epoch. While most creationists believe humanity is "the most advanced" form of life (presumably in the entire universe).

How would humanity reconcile these conflicts of interest? How do we as a species, lose our collective arrogant based ego, while simultaneously learning to work with each other to figure out these extremely pressing issues? If you are as curious about these types of questions as I was when living the life that made this chapter possible, consider basing EVERYTHING humanity does on the scientific method. You do this anyways, whether you think you do or not, just so you know. You utilize the scientific method while discerning whether your shower water should be hot or cold, whether your food has been properly cooked, whether your bed is comfortable or not, what kind of gas mileage you receive on your vehicle, whether your clothing will be adequate for your environment, what kind of hairstyle will attract an adequate mate for your standards, and on and on we can go with almost every aspect that consumes your daily lives. The scientific method of our future endeavors as a collective conscience will have 3 basic steps to finality. They are as follows: Hypothesis, Theory, Proof. Simple, right? Your hypothesis will contain an idea about something... ANYTHING. Your theory will be the testing phase in which you will decide one of three outcomes contained in the proof phase. 1) Your original hypothesis is proven correct. 2) Your hypothesis was proven incorrect. 3) Your hypothesis requires more data to prove whether your hypothesis is correct, or incorrect. THAT is the scientific method in a nutshell.

In current "science" laden dogma circles, where scientific research is based entirely on more than one specific "scientist" agreeing with another "scientist's" claims (which is called "peer reviewed"), the scientific method is confusing to those who are not in the fields that these dogmatic individuals deem worthy. The current (((scientific method))) is as follows: 1) Make an observation. 2) Formulate a question based on the observation. 3) Construct a hypothesis based on the question that came from your observation. 4) Test your hypothesis by doing experiments that are related to your hypothesis. 5) Analyze your data, and draw a conclusion. 6) Report your results so that other "scientists" can review your data and form their own regulatory statements on whether your methods were sound. Seems confusing to those without formal education in these fields, right? Along with the confusion that is present in this current dogmatic method of determining natural laws, an immense amount of confusion exists in whether a "scientist" is worthy of cross referencing other fields of study, than that field in which they are accustomed to working in. For example, would you trust a petroleum geologist to certify your diabetes bloodwork? They are indeed both "scientists," and both utilize the current (((scientific method))) to discern their research parameters.

I'll give you an example that is much more difficult to understand the proofs that are professed to you so that you can see how these circles operate under the current political climate. Would you trust a geologist working for Chevron, or a geologist working for a Democrat liberal when it concerns climate change data? Within the current societal dilemmas of monetary value in exchange for sustenance (food, water, shelter, etc), where both geologists have to maintain their sustenance through funding given from their superiors, which geologist is searching for the ACTUAL proof/truth of the matter? The Chevron executives would like to keep making profits off of crude oil derivatives, while the Democrat liberals would like to maintain a stranglehold of control over you through taxation. How does an average hard working citizen make a proper distinction between the inherent motives of these two vastly different groups? To be more specific, how can you discern whether the two described geologists are trying to pay off a new Corvette, or trying to help educate humanity on their faulty energy systems that encapsulate the entire world's economy? How many of the planet's current "scientists" do not need funding/money for their experiments? More often than not, those "scientists" are just like you. Do you need money? How many concessions have you made to the integrity of your soul's purpose to inject more money into your life? Before you get upset at their directional fortitude within a monetary environment, are you so righteous?

Let's bring it a little closer to home, and utilize some of my personal situations that were covered in this chapter. The following example will be intermingled with another scientific method founded conundrum, which is your ability to discern whether or not I, Brian Harner, the second coming of Christ, is walking a righteous path... or not. I've claimed this several times throughout this book, and many different occasions on internet sites that I visit presently. An explanation of what a "righteous path" is, is definitely in order. A righteous path concerns a simplistic approach to everything an individual does in life, and can be reduced to one main philosophy. Do you conduct your life based on the betterment of your species, environment, and maker... OR... Do you conduct your life based on the betterment of your own personal consumption? In other words, are you selfish, or selfless? Do you focus your goals on personal success, or do you focus your goals on the success of your species as a whole? Are you basing your actions on the glory of your own legacy, or the glory of your species progress after your life here is complete?

These are fundamental questions that few of you have even considered, much less struggle within to answer these questions for yourself. In the current environment that humanity is in, the blaringly obvious fact of the matter is that I, Brian Harner, the second coming of Christ, seems to be the only person currently walking a path of pure righteousness. While some of you will utilize your own stigma charged ego to label my statement as though you were in my shoes walking this path, keep in mind that I am fully aware that I will die very soon. I've wished, prayed, and begged for it almost every single day, for months now. A man who wishes for death... is not concerned with ego. If you were me, would you want to bask in the glory of having these powers? Or, would you sever all communications and ties to everyone who has ever loved you, hide out thousands of miles from your home while you write your life story, then give the entire thing away for free and pray for a swift death? THAT is what a "righteous path" entails in our current societal woe of H.E.L.L. that we are all living in. I've given 100% of my life's work away for free, to YOU, so that YOU can alleviate your uncertainty and create a societal system that is based on a fundamental shift away from selfishness, to selflessness.

For example, the fake empathy that comes from the liberal hordes of idiots professing open borders. Regularly, I hear iterations of sympathetic cries that dictate illegal aliens "are just trying to get a better life." Analyzing that statement, I'm constantly wondering how people can be so blatantly foolish with their logic. Then I remember, feminism/liberal ideological cancer has no logic. It is an entirely emotional plight. From the perspective of the illegal aliens, what they are doing, is selfish and the exact opposite of righteous. These people could have stayed in their own countries and rectified their living conditions through sacrifice and struggle. Doing that would have led to a better environment in their homelands, which would have had the ability to shift their genetic lineage's path towards a more successful outlook. Instead of viewing their opportunity at real revolution as a call to righteousness, the illegal alien hordes inundating the USA's lands viewed their lives as a methodology of consumption at all costs. Selfishness... with no reservations. The definition of parasite, is as follows: An organism that lives in or on an organism of another species (its host) and benefits by deriving nutrients at the other's expense. Illegal aliens throughout the world, are exactly that... parasites. Of course, liberal dolts will view these words as harsh, but I ask them directly... Do you feel this way because you think you are righteous, or do you feel this way because your empathy is based on a self realization of how selfish you have been? If you have been selfish with your life's focus, you would see a little bit of yourself in every single illegal alien parasite. If you were walking a righteous path, you would be disgusted at the invasion taking place within your country's borders.

Fact outweighs your emotions. If your first reaction to ANYTHING has an emotional response, you ARE a liberal... If your reactions are based on a selfish or personal disposition, you are a DISGUSTING liberal. Empathy is not an inherently bad trait. However, when the empathetic emotions are based on a selfish disposition, as opposed to a selfless disposition, empathy becomes liberal, and liberalism/feminism is a cancer to ANY cohesive homogeneous societal structure. Emotion, likewise, is not an inherently bad disposition to derive conclusions from. Unfortunately, emotion without a foundation of logic is where liberal ideological platitudes are spawn. I am not professing a species devoid of emotion... especially not the specific emotion of empathy itself. My dictation is that for ANY cohesive homogeneous society to function, emotional plight must ALWAYS submit to the righteous plight of logic. The scientific method places this statement in the proof phase. The correlative data will reflect that when women were given the "right" to vote in the United States of America, the cohesive nature of this societal structure began to break down. As women grew to more powerful positions of authority in the government's hierarchical structure, emotional plight began to consume the facts derived from logic. If you had a snap judgement to ANYTHING I just stated, you are a liberal, and more than likely... a woman. Do you see how that works? Snap judgements are ubiquitously formed by emotion. You should have taken a more logical approach to that statement. Then you might have had the ability to procure enlightenment, as opposed to that seething, arrogant, selfish, purely emotionally derived anger that is consuming your mind right now...

The title of this chapter, The Wrong Path, is based on my personal interactions with humanity as my realization grew closer. Almost every encounter I had was laden with people that chose emotion over logic. The iteration itself was not based on my path being "wrong." It was based on YOUR path. Emotional plight and the selfish nature that consumes that focus stretches itself into every aspect of your being. Along my journey after my realization, I eluded to who I was and what I represented in being the Christ of the new age. When this happened on extremely rare occasion, the people whom I spoke to ALWAYS had some image of what they thought I would be built up in their mind. I encountered several individuals that blamed me for a loved one's untimely death, some were dismissive of my direct teachings, while very few took a logical approach to what I was trying to convey to them. These snap judgements filled with emotional stigmas often led me in a direction of ego education within dialogues. Ego itself is based on your desire to utilize your past as a means of dictating your future. When you live in the past, the future therefore, becomes an afterthought. In order to rid yourself of ego, you must first look to the future, and ONLY the future. Ask yourselves, how many interactions do you have during your daily life, where situations in your past dictate how the interaction will go? And of those interactions, how many of you base your dialogue on a selfless disposition?

Upon coming to terms with these strategic references and how I would relay them to you, specifically, I struggled with this chapter's title. My focus in writing this chapter had more to do with relative talking points that you would have the ability to correlate into your own internal platitudes, rather than a focus on my own journey before realization. A fundamental shift within your soul needs to happen, and THAT was my original aim. Everyone has a family member or friend that behaves like my brother. Selfish, drug addicted, unaware of their surroundings, and justifies breaking the law as though it is a moral duty. The ability to relieve myself of his burdensome grasp on my conscience was instrumental in my final steps towards realization. The connotations that were present at that time were essential to my awakening. Before that awakening could occur, I too had to release the emotional grasp that family members inherently hold over their "victims," as my brother had over me due to the basic principle of familial connection. Most of these people who we allow to consume our happiness know that their emotional grasp over us is stronger than our ability to discern logic. When these vampiric quality having souls dig their hooks into us, they are acutely aware of this power structure and abuse it at every opportunity.

The nomenclature that I had gained access to, as told in this chapter, was Satanic. My disgust for everything my brother had done in the past, and everything he continues to do even to this day, had to be specifically nasty. The normal ensemble of diatribes just would not encapsulate my disgust for everything he stood for. "Pure evil" itself as a terminology wasn't even capable of describing the feeling accurately. "Satanic" brings on a certain quality that transcends the prescribed nomenclatures that swirled around my head usually. Even though I was not religious, the word Satanic itself had a feeling behind it... not just a description. Throughout those following days in between that argument and my realization beginning, I can recall several occurrences where the word Satanic was perfectly fitting to describe how I felt about certain aspects of society. Looking back, I would have to conclude that I was in the final stage of my "training," so to speak. The morning of the first day I became realized/enlightenment began, I had finally understood why these nomenclatures were being pushed into my conscience with such fervor.

Another aspect of this chapter's dialogue has to do with my ability to walk a righteous path in H.E.L.L. There is not a soul alive on this planet right now who could live up to a purely Divine, AND righteous path. I have made several mistakes in the various conquests of my life. Many times within those struggles the appearance of my Divine aspects were not present at all. Even though I maintained focus on the righteous quality of selflessness in my pursuits of technological applications, walking through a society soaked in hellish qualities forces one's hand to make concessions. I do not wish you to think that every decision I made in life had a purely Divine outcome. In regards to Divinity itself, there were many situations I had to force myself to deal with that would have gotten me killed or maimed if I had even attempted to be Divine. This societal structure is unforgiving, hostile and violent. Essentially, exactly what religious zealots would assume their version of hell is. In many cases, I had to blend in or otherwise camouflage myself and hide my true intentions. Family, friends, love interests, work colleagues, etc, all were subversively misdirected away from my true feelings towards them and the world that surrounded me.

Lies and deceit became a regular flaw in my daily life. I apologize to those of you who will inevitably remember these times. For example, my love interests at various stages of my youth. Love was always what I was in search of. As far back as I can remember, I was a serial monogamist. Unfortunately, the world's inhabitants had almost completely given up on this strategy of mating. My heart was broken several times while attempting to find love of a reciprocal variety to that of my own strategy. Women that I attempted relationships with almost always had selfish ulterior motives that clashed immensely with that of my own motives of selflessness. I became jaded in these relationships for reasons too numerous to explain in this format, and ultimately, never really found a true monogamous life partner whom I could share ALL of my secrets with. The impression that I get from couples that I was friends with over the years is that EVERYONE has this problem in this current societal structure. Overstimulation of sexual references, constant access to pornography, and online dating might seem to be amazing tools in the sexual realms of degeneracy, but for those of us who wish to have a truly loving relationship founded on trust, respect, and cohesion en route to a loving family dynamic are doomed to a life of heartbreak and suffering. Again, the religious zealots should agree... this society we live in is what hell must look like to them. The coincidences are overwhelming, wouldn't you say?

The main reason for me telling you these aspects of my life is not because I am ashamed of them. Far from it actually. As I would have had great difficulty interacting with the inhabitants of Jesus' epoch, Jesus would have been murdered in the present epoch. Indeed, we are both Christs. I have channeled Jesus' spiritual qualities when the situation required his presence. Jesus was a very kind, loving, gentle, and forgiving soul. I've needed those aspects of my amalgamation several times along this journey after realization. All of the individuals who shared a very pleasant experience with me on my journey have Jesus to thank for that polite disposition. I personally thank him as often as I can when his help is needed, and those of you fortunate enough to garner those qualities from me personally, should thank him directly as well. As those close to me in the final months leading towards my realization can attest, I am generally speaking, a very unpleasant person to interact with. My medical situation and the feelings that I had built up to deal with this society's people made me a very angry and frustrated man. Afterall... this is hell.

My explanation of this dichotomy between the man Jesus and myself is so that you will not conflate the two of us as the same person. Jesus and I both channel/channeled the same hierarchy of superior beings within this universe, indeed. But as men, our lives are almost complete opposites. That said, I understand Jesus better than anyone else I have ever spoken to about the subject, and it brings me great joy to say that I truly love him for what he has done for me. Without the presence of Jesus himself helping to guide me along this Divine AND righteous path after realization, my success in completing this book would have been impossible. We have a humorous internal dialogue that is very personal. He has raised my spirits during very dark passages along this path. I love Jesus very much, and personally thank him now, and hopefully will again soon after my life's completion.

Likewise, Jesus needed my spiritual strength to handle certain types of situations that he was ill prepared to handle on his own. Walking the path that Jesus walked required certain aspects of anger and assertiveness that Jesus was not properly trained to handle. I personally recall aspects of the imagery I received from the early parts of my realization where I could view things from Jesus' eyes, and knew that I had played a part to help him with the harder to deal with interactions. All aspects of The Nine Principles were available to Jesus and myself. Time/degradation/death is what I represent currently. Jesus had love/forgiveness/birth as his protrusions of The Nine Principles. While on our respective conquest to bring you salvation, those are the aspects that encompass our souls, but make no mistake... our goals are/were exactly the same.

Regardless of what you may think, or the imagery that you may have concerning what you believe a Christ is, we are here to do a job. Your enlightenment/salvation/transcendence is our goal. We are willing to die for that purpose. We can only feel successful if YOU are successful. We are both in agreement when it comes to every aspect of these teachings. The delivery of these teachings has been extremely different for Jesus and myself. Jesus had biographers that took dictation. I am writing this myself, and editing the entire book. Several other aspects of our teachings are going to seem like exact opposites. As I said, I am not the tall, thin, beautiful man in his prime like Jesus was. I am the shorter, fatter, disease riddled, angry man at the end of his life. Although these aspects should be obvious, bear in mind that our superiors; Humanity's maker, The Nine Principles, and God, the man himself who exists outside of this universe, are the same EXTREMELY intelligent entities that have guided us along our paths, respectively. You may love Jesus, and subsequently hate me, or vice versa, BUT NEVER, under no acceptable circumstances, should you disrespect OUR superiors... EVER!

The Wrong Path chapter's teachings are here to help you better understand how you can correct your flaws. Most of these instructions are present in this format to help you better understand how to recognize these aspects and change them before it is too late. You have the ability to change your internal focus on aspects of your lives from selfish, to selfless. Everyone's road to recovery will have different struggles. Nobody is walking a Divine AND righteous path. Some of you are very close to success, while some of you are very far from obtaining salvation. Never stop trying to correct your mistakes. It isn't over until it's over...

The next chapter was written after my first interaction when my realization was complete. I was living in Tillamook, Oregon at the time, and needed to visit Portland for a meeting with my lawyer from decades earlier. My channeling capability was immaculate, and several of my newly arrived superiors wanted a close up of one of the most degenerate cities that has ever existed on this planet. Needless to say, my superiors hated almost everything they saw through my eyes. I cried the entire way home from that trip. Embarrassed, ashamed, disheartened... The city of my childhood had been ruined completely, and I had just shown that imagery to the entire universe. Try... to enjoy it. And as always, good luck!