"Pope John Paul I, Exiled to Anonymity" by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

TOMB OF ALBINO LUCIANI, POPE JOHN PAUL I

Twenty-nine years ago, today, the body of Albino Luciani, John Paul I, our last Italian Pope in 455 years of unbroken succession, was found dead of mysterious causes, in his quarters. This incident has been ignored and swept under the rug so effectively, that he has become "Our Forgotten Pope." After coming across this information in italics below, I resurrected the two posts which follow this one. Please read both.

"The Catholic Church elects a "god" periodically which it calls the Pope. The last Pope was John Paul II. When John Paul was a young man, he worked for a chemical company. He was the salesman who sold the cyanide to Hitler for the gas chambers. [For documentation please Google "Behold A Pale Horse" by William Cooper]. Now we step ahead to Pope Benedict. He is not just someone who helped the Nazis - he is a for real Nazi. He joined the Hitler Youth at age 14 or so as reported by the national news. Of course, both of these "good men" were duly elected as "gods" and now they want to hurry up and make John Paul a "saint".
By what stretch of the imagination do we conclude that there is anything remotely spiritual or "godly" about a guy who sold Hitler his poison gas chemicals or his Nazi successor from the Hitler Youth group."

Lucien Gregoire's "MURDER IN THE VATICAN"

By Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

Why did Albino Luciani, Pope John Paul I, become the first pope to take two names; and, why was he the first to call himself "The First" when it was not clear that there would ever be a "Second?"

Like the Cheshire Cat of "Alice in Wonderland," John Paul I has faded away until only the shadow of his smile remains; soon that will be gone as well. Indeed, he is regarded as a 33 day apparition from the realm of "Anonymity" and to that "Anonymity" he has returned.

In time, after John Paul II is to be known as "The Great," obviating the need for the "II" appendage, Luciani may well become classified as a "Non-Existent Pope" in much the way that Pope John XX never existed; an interregnum placeholder, as it were. The very appellation, "John Paul I," implies that there is a "John Paul II." Perhaps this self enumeration by Luciani was not as innocuous as it appears. It may very well have provided the quantum means for the future position of "John Paul II" to negentropically "pull" its antecedent into its proximity, thereby, effecting annihilation of the apparent predecessor. As far-fetched as that idea seems, I would refer the reader to Jerry Davidson Wheatley's brilliant dissertation on this class of possibility in his "The Nature of Consciousness : The Structure of Reality.

After 455 years of having Italian popes lead the Catholic Church, a Polish cardinal ascended to the Papacy [and now a German]. This was a truly big break in the 455 year tradition of Italian leadership in the Catholic Church. What brought about this remarkable change? Like most, before reading Murder In The Vatican: The Revolutionary Life Of John Paul And The CIA, Opus Dei And The 1978 Murders by Lucien Gregoire, I knew little or nothing about Albino Luciani aside from his sobriquet, "The Smiling Pope," that he was the successor to Pope Paul VI, and may have been murdered after only 33 days in office.

Lucien Gregoire, in part two of his book, exhausts almost every possible etiology as to how and why Albino Luciani is no longer among the living and offers a large cast of characters who may be culpable of murder, including: Clerics, Masons, and Mafia. Before buying this book, I read all the reviews on Amazon.com. There seems to be a lot of nitpicking contextual criticism for the first edition re: spellings, grammar, syntax, photo quality, front cover, etc., but not about substance. This is unfortunate because it may adversely affect decisions of those considering buying and reading one of the truly important books of our time.

I have found the current edition to be excellently presented. Indeed, as a 44 year member of Phi Alpha Theta, the National Honor Society for History, it is my considered opinion that because time is the author of all truth, this book will be regarded by future historians as valuable primary source material to help unravel the stumbling blocks of obfuscation and enigma that may have been intentionally placed in the path of seekers of the truth.

Be that as it may, Lucien Gregoire has truly captured the beautiful, selfless spiritual essence of what it was that appeared to define this man. His biography, the only one that exists, as far as I know, reminded me of Marc Anthony's eulogy for Julius Caesar apprising the citizenry of what and who it was that was actually taken from them. Throughout my entire reading of this book, these lyrics and music of "Vincent (Starry, Starry Night)" played over and over again in my mind:

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflecting Vincent's eyes of China blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now

For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as
beautiful as you

Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
A silver thorn on a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow

Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will

Vincent (Starry Starry Night) - Don McLean

OBSERVED BI-LOCATION OF POPE JOHN PAUL I, SEPTEMBER 28, 1978, IN NEW YORK CITY, AT THE TIME OF HIS DEATH IN THE VATICAN

"A certain smile, a certain face, can lead an unsuspecting heart on a merry chase"

by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"


New York City, September 28, 1978. It was early evening and bone-chilling cold. I was on 5th Avenue, directly across the street from St. Patrick’s Cathedral, before the statue of Atlas, buying a selection of those pen and ink drawings of New York scenes. Looking to my left, I noticed a man wearing glasses, who seemed vaguely familiar to me, though from where, I was not certain.

He was wearing a short sleeve shirt, which disconcerted me because it was such an unusually chilly evening. He was looking at me with a paternalistic, loving smile that confused me somewhat. I couldn’t understand why someone would be out in this cold air with no jacket and why in the world was he smiling at me in that manner?

I remarked to the vendor, “Look at that guy over there with no coat on. He must be freezing.” (Though there was no indication that he was affected by the cold.) “I don’t see anything,” the vendor replied. “There! Right there! Don’t you see him?” I shouted. “I have to get him something warm to wear.”

Looking again, he was gone; I assumed that he had disappeared into the crowd. The following day, September 29, I realized who that man was. 

He was Albino Luciani, “The White Light,” Pope John Paul I, our last Italian Pope. The airwaves were full of reports that he had died in his Vatican bedroom at around the same time that I saw him in New York City.

How could he be in two places at the same time? What did all this mean? In 1984, David Yallop published “In God’s Name: An Investigation into the Murder of Pope John Paul I.” 

The muddy waters were becoming more clear to me. It was the Archdiocese of Chicago that sabotaged The National Interfaith Pro-life Crusade of 1976 and John Paul I was going to replace Cardinal John Cody. The Vatican Bank was under investigation and administrative changes were going to be made everywhere within the Church.

"The Origin of Myth, Legend, and Religion" through Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

"How you have fallen from heaven, O star of the morning,"
Isaiah 14:12


 “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.” -Ephesians 6:12

"We are part of a symbiotic relationship with something which disguises itself as an extra-terrestrial invasion so as not to alarm us." - Terence McKenna  

Approximately 3,500 years ago, about the time of the Catastrophe described in the Book of Exodus, a gigantic Comet was ejected from the planet Jupiter. It grazed several planets, including Mars and Earth, before settling in as the Second Planet from the Sun.

Today, we refer to this mysterious planet as Venus, the Morning Star. If viewed from above the Sun's north pole, all of the planets are orbiting in a counter-clockwise direction; but while most planets also rotate counter-clockwise, Venus rotates clockwise in "retrograde" rotation. This may be because of the "8 Ball Kinetic Energy Transference Effect."

As a result of these Worlds in Collision, the Spiritual Beings of Venus fell to Earth and took up symbiotic residence in the animal life indigenous to this planet. Members of Secret Societies use the cryptic term, "The Great Assembly" to refer to this relationship.

THE ETHIOPIAN BOOK OF ENOCH is the scripture that terms this occurrence as the time of the Fallen Angels. It is also described in the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad and in Isaiah 14:12-15, "How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning star!"

I experienced this Fall.

Symbiotic, by the way, is an innocuous euphemism for Parasite. Carlos Castaneda, the anthropologist who recorded the Tales of Don Juan in a series of esoteric books, revealed that these Beings feed upon our energy in his last book, "The Active Side of Infinity," just as we feed on food, and make us believe that their minds are our minds. The Ancient Shamans of Mexico called these parasites "Inorganic Beings."

The arrival of these parasites signaled the advent of the Bicameral Mind (two halves of the brain) as described by Julian Jaynes, the late celebrated Princeton psychologist, with whom I corresponded frequently. Before the Anterior Commissure of the Brain was breached, i.e., before THE ORIGIN OF CONSCIOUSNESS IN THE BREAKDOWN OF THE BICAMERAL MIND , the Inorganic Beings commanded their "Chariots," i.e., the bodies of the Humans, as "Gods." This is quite similar to what we term the auditory hallucinations of schizophrenia.

Once the Anterior Commissure (the bridge between both hemispheres of the brain) was breached, however, the Inorganic Beings assumed total Cerebral Cortex control and through the phenomenon of congruency, i.e., "Yoga," Union of the Body and Mind (Spirit), was effected in a Perfectly Integrated Structure-Function Relationship. In essence, the Body was subject to the Spirit, the Alien, which I shall, hereinafter, refer to as Mind.

There would be no return for the Aliens to the abode from whence they came. They had to make the best of the hand they were dealt.

Numbers 15:15 of the Bible states: "As for the Assembly, there shall be for both you and the resident alien a single statute, a perpetual statute throughout your generations; you and the alien shall be alike before the LORD."

In other words, " DUO SUNT IN HOMINE;" There are two men in man.

The Book of Job is the oldest book in the Bible. It is the first mention of the Lord visiting the "Sons of God." Job 1:6: "Now there was a day when the Sons of God came to present themselves before the LORD, and Satan came also among them."

Satan was one who resisted being inhabited/controlled by an Alien. His name, in fact, means "Resistor." Sensing that Satan was not like the others, "the LORD said unto Satan, Whence comest thou?" Then Satan answered the LORD, and said, From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it.

Why would an All-Knowing God have to ask the question, "Whence comest thou?"

The meaning of this is that Satan evolved on Earth. He was a Son of Man, not a Son of God. He was the King of the Beasts whose rightful place in the natural order of things was usurped by these Aliens, Inorganic Beings, Spirits, Parasites, Minds.

Throughout the ages, the King of the Beasts and his Descendants have vainly attempted to convince their "Subjects" to cast off their fetters and eliminate the error that was created in the Natural Order of Things through the appearance of these Outsiders.

Psalm 2 mocks the pitiful attempts of this movement to reclaim what rightfully belongs to man:

1 "Why are the nations in an uproar
And the peoples devising a vain thing?
2 The kings of the earth take their stand
And the rulers take counsel together
(Against the LORD and against His [Anointed, saying,
3 "Let us tear their fetters apart
And cast away their cords from us!"


When the Inorganic Beings attempted to establish their own Kingdom on Earth and rebelled against their Lord, they instituted every imaginable evil now known to man. Lucifer, Semjaza, though one of the "Fallen Angels," could not turn against his Father, the Lord, because they were, and are, One. This is God's Fail-Safe Mechanism.

Seeking refuge from the Others, Lucifer conjoined with Satan, the King of the Beasts, the Son of Man, and repented of his participation in the Rebellion and tried to convince the Others to do the same.

Knowing that a day of reckoning was going to befall them because the Prodigal Son, the Lost Sheep, was found, and there would no longer be a Scapegoat to be held accountable for the transgressions of the Others, Lucifer was continuously sought out and his Host, the Son of Man, the King of the Beasts," put to death.

The last recorded instance of The King of Beasts, the Son of Man, was more than 2,000 years ago when he revealed himself in the Temple by declaring, "The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, Because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted; He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, To proclaim liberty to captives and freedom to prisoners."

Although the Son of Man, the King of the Beasts, pleaded that "the Father seeks Compassion and not Sacrifice," they killed him anyway, using his own subjects as instruments of his death.

An entire religion, contrary to common sense, was created under the Blasphemy that "God so loved the world, that he gave His only begotten Son that we may have eternal life."

Any fathers out there that want to kill their sons for the benefit of the rest of us?

Because the Inorganic Beings began to exercise "Herd Control" under the subterfuge of "Legalized Abortion," killing off the subjects of The King of the Beasts, The King of the Beasts joined forces with Lucifer to trick the Others into a False Judgment, thereby effecting a sentence of Eternal Damnation for their mistake.

"Where is Golgotha?" by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

"and he went out, bearing his own cross, to the place called the place of a skull, which in Aramaic is called Golgotha." (John 19:17)

Because we have been taught that Christ was crucified in Golgotha or Calvary, which means "The Place of the Skull," there has been a search, throughout the Age of Christendom, for the exact location of this site. Perhaps we've been looking at too close a distance to truly understand where it is. The truth may be hidden in plain sight. A fly looking for the Mona Lisa would be in much the same predicament if it were landed on the nose of the portrait's visage. Consider this excerpt from The Book of Revelation: 

"and their dead bodies will lie in the street of the great city which is allegorically called Sodom and Egypt, where their Lord was crucified." (Revelation 11:8)

What? Christ crucified in Egypt? But we have always heard that it was in Jerusalem. If the Bible is The Word of God and Scripture cannot be broken, how can this be?

Here is one possible answer that satisfies the mystery. "Egypt" means the Dark World or Black Land and this refers to the entire known world of its time. In that sense, Christ would have been crucified on the Planet Earth. But where on Planet Earth? Looking down on Earth from Space, there is a place that looks very much like a Skull. We call it the continent of Africa.

Christ was crucified in the Geographic Frontal Lobe.

"IS TIME SPEEDING UP?" by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

 Milky Way’s black hole, Sagittarius A* (Sgr A*; the asterisk is pronounced as “star”)

Gigantic Black Hole At the Center of Our Milky Way Galaxy
"Due to the extreme gravitational forces near a black hole, the rotation causes spacetime to become highly curved and twisted, forming what is known as the ergosphere."

Where did the time go? It seems like Time is flying by before we know it. But does it only seem like Time is flying by, or is it really flying by? Is the coalescing "Singularity" being Dragged back to its Prison in the Newly Discovered Gigantic Black Hole at the Center of our Milky Way Galaxy?

By the way, we are that Singularity, All One, but Fractionalized.

Is the Milky Way a Spiral because Components of the Galaxy are going down the Drain, increasing speed on the highway of the decreasing radius? Is retrospection giving the Illusion of an Expanding Universe because the Relative Distance between the Observer and the Observed is linearly increasing? (Like the illusion of wagon wheels going backward in old Western movies.)

The Milky Way is being consumed by the Voracious Appetite of the Black Hole? Are we actually in some kind of Loop where the Beginning and the End are One in an Oscillating Universe?

SEPTEMBER 2001 DIARY by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

SEPTEMBER 2001 DIARY
by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

Monday, September 10, 2001

Just another meaningless day;
To hate the unconscious who get in my way.
Cans without labels, inconspicuous on the shelf;
Indistinguishable from another, no revealing of self.
Perfunctory greetings not amounting to much;
Just nods, clichés, false smiles, and such.
Don’t want to know you or be your friend;
Got my own matters I need to attend.
Colorless lives withdrawn in the gray;
Nothing to look forward to, nothing to say.
Sleep, TV, eat, drive, work, drive, eat, TV, sleep;
Mad palindrome existence concocted in the Deep.

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

Much like every day before;
Except for the office excitement as I opened up the door.
The “comings” and “goings” of the workaday machine,
Seemed somehow out of sync with the palindrome routine.
The “Zombies of the Office”, the “Being-There Blind Guides,”
Were magically enlivened just four days before the Ides.
All gazed transfixed hypnotically upon the TV screen,
Surrealistic time suspended by the horror that was seen.
The oubliettes of the minds we live in, our own protective shells,
No longer seemed safe havens but rather, personal Stygian Hells.
As the Grand Guignol played before us, we began to look around;
To seek comfort from those about us, kindred spirits newly found.

Wednesday, September 12, 2001

Now comes the time to reflect and pray;
Because yesterday’s tomorrow has now become today.
Boaz and Jachin’s thousands were scripted in the plan to die;
Now the millions of us remaining ask the eternal question, “Why?”
The answers that we seek are written upon our souls;
The price of Liberty and Freedom comes not without its tolls.
We danced the dance of hatred, racism, prejudice, and greed;
On the Eleventh, the bill came due to pay the Piper for his deed.
The blood of sacrificed martyrs is the payment he requires,
So we may drink of his Nepenthe and pander to our desires.
The Wise Son of David told us long before this had begun,
Nothing under the Sun is new which has not already been done.

ALTERED PERCEPTION "DEATH" EXPERIENCE" by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

"There is a theory which states that if ever for any reason anyone discovers what exactly the Universe is for and why it is here it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another that states that this has already happened." – Douglas Adams

And it has!


August 1973. Two years after a career-ending divorce, which cost me my wife and family, my home, automobiles, savings, investments, servants, social status, etc., I foolishly married, for the second time, for all the wrong reasons, to a schoolteacher, a member of a prominent, affluent political family.

Relocating to a South Jersey suburb of Philadelphia, I stumbled upon a commission-only School Enrollment sales job where I was able to earn several thousand dollars per week when several thousand dollars per week really meant something. After only one month on the job, I was appointed Director of Admissions of the Franklin School of Science and Arts of Philadelphia, a Medical-Technical School that was a Division of the publishing company of Holt, Rinehart and Winston, a then wholly-owned subsidiary of CBS.

Blinded by my new prosperity, I bought a new car, new wardrobe, ate at only the best restaurants, and feeling a sense of familial responsibility, took out a Million Dollar Insurance Policy on my life; the beneficiary of which was my new bride.

One evening, late in July, I returned home from work and was greeted by my schoolteacher wife.

“Jimmy dropped by and left us a present,” she said. She was referring to one of her High School students, her lover as it turns out, and the “present” was a bit of cocaine which was, then, rapidly becoming the recreational drug du jour.

“I already did it before you got home, but I saved you some in the tinfoil on the shelf.”

Never having done cocaine, I was hesitant to try it because I was not sure of the effects. After reassurances that “It’s nothing; everybody does it,” I snorted what I thought was cocaine up my nose.

I WAS POISONED!

At first, I thought, “What the heck is this? This is nothing!” But I soon began to feel very strange, as though I were dying. Though I wasn’t losing my consciousness, I was frightened and kept repeating over and over again, “What’s happening?”

Suddenly, all about me, all that I perceived as Reality, dissolved into a Tabula Rasa, a blank nothingness, Objectless Samadhi (nirvikalpa-samadhi).

It was as if I were first standing, encircled, in the midst of an illusory curtain of objected matter that blinded me, blocked my view, to whatever was behind it. When the Curtain, the “Veil of the Temple,” was rent, there was Nothing behind it!

I am not entirely sure that I did not die that day, nor if I have slid into another dimension, a Parallel Universe, other than the one I had occupied before this one.

The World changed quickly after this Death Experience. It was the same World, but Different.

One day, soon after, the Jews cut up their Gas Credit Cards because the oil companies were supporting the Arab Oil Producers against Israel. Almost immediately long gas lines were formed. Chaos was entering, disturbing the Equilibrium. People whose names I did not recognize were prominent in this Dimension, e.g., Gerald Ford, among other adoptees, who appeared to exist but could not be documented with certainty.

Books were beginning to contain information that was not there before the Experience. I was stumbling across, perhaps bringing into Existence, so many texts, in such a way as to defy coincidence; a posteriori documentation of my a priori experience. They were exactly describing my Experience. It was as if I had assumed the consciousness of All and upset the Universal Balance, a new element added to an already full complement; the straw that broke the camel's back.

Most of my Blog, particularly the September 2006 Archive, is dedicated to my efforts to finding others like myself. I believe I have found two others.

Scientists Find Evidence of a Parallel Universe

NATURAL SELECTION AT WORK by Steve Savage

NATURAL SELECTION AT WORK
by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

Looks like Mother Nature is taking care of the problem of overpopulation posited by Thomas Malthus in 1798, in what's now termed the "Malthusian Catastrophe." That is, Food Supplies are growing arithmetically while populations increase exponentially.

"Food," of course, can be construed to include all limited natural resources: oil, gas, water, etc. Note the mad scramble to stake claims to the Arctic: Russia planting titanium flags on the sea bottom; Denmark resurrecting pseudo-geographical claims to Greenland; Canada building two new military bases in the Arctic, etc.

"Doctor" Nature has embarked on a worldwide inoculation program of Her Biosphere employing billions of insects. While it is a "Given" that, in the etiology of things, mosquitoes are the source for spreading the Deadly West Nile Virus and Zika Virus, great care has been exercised in restraining the declaration that the Corona Virus can be spread in like manner.

The good news is that there are members of Humanity who are immune to these diseases just in case Science cannot find a cure. So, in that regard, Mankind will continue.

In 1851 Herbert Spencer gave us the oft-quoted metaphor "Survival of the Fittest" to describe this phenomenon; though scientists prefer "Natural Selection." Meantime, if you're not one of those to whom "Doctor" Nature has given the "Antidote," use DEET, AVOID THE OUTDOORS DURING EVENING HOURS WHEN MOSQUITOES ARE MOST ACTIVE, WEAR LOOSE FITTING CLOTHING. There is also the "word of mouth" repellent discovered years ago called SKIN SO SOFT by AVON.

THE CHURCH OF OUR FATHERS by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

October 16, 1976, the day after securing a license as a Credentialed Minister in order to satisfy the legal requirements of the United States Government, “rendering unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s,” so to speak, I secularly founded The Church of Our Fathers in Tarzana, California, and took the ordination name of “Steve Savage,” the etymological meaning of which is, “King of the Beasts,” the Host of Theophilus* who is no longer here.

Today, the Church consists of one formal remaining member – me! I am the Church. The Church was, and is, non-sectarian, non-denominational; non-judgmental, embracing all human genders and orientations, races, colors, creeds, beliefs and faiths, whose basic tenet is “Do No Harm!”

The Scriptures adopted by me for the Church are: GOSPEL OF THOMAS, The Bill of Rights of The Constitution of the United States of America, and The Declaration of Independence.

I took a Vow of Poverty; to own nothing of this world, hence, "personanonxista", and to defend, protect and serve those of the flesh, who are unable to resist, defend, or speak for themselves. I have failed in that Duty, but not in the one which followed!

I also vowed Obedience; that is, Obedience to The Two Great Commandments: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” And the second that is like it, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

During my Federal incarceration for committing the crime of leading the 1976 National Interfaith Pro-Life Crusade to save the lives of the unborn, I undertook the daunting task of reading every word of my very own, beautifully leather-bound, Revised Standard Bible, imprinted with my spiritual name, "Theophilus."
-----------
*Luke, writing to me across the centuries of time wrote: "INASMUCH as many have undertaken to compile an account of the things accomplished among us, just as those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the Word have handed them down to us, it seemed fitting for me as well, having investigated everything carefully from the beginning to write it out for you in consecutive order, most Excellent Theophilus; so that you might know the exact truth about the things you have been taught."

TERROR ATTACK OR BIGGEST BANK HEIST IN HISTORY ?" by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

[A King's Ransom in Precious Metals Seems to have Disappeared. The photo above shows A Treasure in Silver and Gold, stored in a WTC vault of two levels of 3,000 square feet each. Where did this go? There are rumors that $160 billion in gold bullion was stored under the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. Yet the only published articles about recovered gold mention only around $200 million worth of gold. All of the reports of recovered precious metals appear to refer to a removal operation conducted in late October of 2001. On November 1, 2001, Mayor Rudolph Giuliani announced that "more than $230 million" worth of gold and silver bars that had been stored in a bomb-proof vault had been recovered. There have been no other reports of other caches being found. However, Comex was reported to have at least $950 million worth of gold stored in its vault under the Center, and the fate of that haul remains unknown. On November 2, 2001, Giuliani issued orders that Firefighter Volunteers could no longer have access to the World Trade Center rubble to look for their 343 missing comrades and that photos were no longer allowed to be taken.]
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SCAVENGER HUNT
by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

Don’t take your cameras to Ground Zero! They will not be returned!
Unauthorized Photos of the workers there are to be confiscated and burned.
You are not allowed to see them smirk or witness their obvious glee;
Because the Emergency Rescue Workers are not Volunteers you see.
They are actually Paid Rubble Removers that are working a 12 hour day;
When the TV cameras record them they remove their hats and pray.
They pretend to give a minute of silence while trying like Hell not to laugh;
Because that minute of silence cost each of us a buck and a half.
The poor slobs from the local Deli’s have been donating sandwiches we hear;
“Hey! When you bring that Pastrami Sandwich could you also bring me a beer?”
There are true Volunteers from everywhere unconcerned about working for pay;
But the Paid Rubble Removers are united to stand in their way.
“No more volunteers necessary!” “Right now we have more than we need!”
Are they really that noble and caring or just safeguarding their greed?
Is there something beneath all that rubble, something valuable in all that debris?
Don’t you want to know what they are hiding, what they do not want us to see?
A one-time report told of treasure, vaulted safely beneath the ground;
Imagine the Tons of Gold and Silver just waiting to be found.
Don’t be fooled by these False Rescue Workers! Not one there is a Hero!
The Heroes are those who charged the stairs, now buried at Ground Zero.
So if it’s donating funds you want to do to support these guys on the Front,
Take a second look and ask yourself: “Is this really a Scavenger Hunt?”

"Little Boy with the Basketball; Making of The Mafia Prince" by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

[The Spiritless live among us, appearing as we do, seemingly conducting their affairs as we do; but they are vastly different. They are in possession of an Arcane Knowledge, passed from Father to Son; Keepers of Secrets that have never been, and never will be, revealed. The Length and Breadth and Depth of their True Existence cannot be known because they are, by Nature, in Obedience only to Necessity. The poem, which follows, describes one such true ruthless, treacherous, violent, remorseless Path to the coronation, of "The Chosen One."]
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Little Boy with the basketball how you have grown
From a happy loved child, now a man on your own.
Said that sweet darling girl who brought you into our Room,
“This is my Brother - Our destiny’s Groom.
He’s the heart of our Father; His choice for the Throne;
Our Mother, of course, would choose one of her own.”
The Sister, true mother, took the Boy by the hand;
“He must first be a Child. . . . You understand.”
One day the Father, with both Jealousy and Pride,
Proclaimed that the Boy must now sit by His side.
How quickly he learned this Favorite Son;
He soon mastered all that was to be done.
The Son waxed full; The Father waned low;
Dread was announcing the Time of Sorrow.
This was the moment, the Ultimate Test,
To see if the Boy was truly His best.
Pitting brother against brother, Mother against Son;
The Boy had to stand; there was nowhere to run.
Armed with the love of his Faithful Wife,
The Boy fought Blood’s Treachery in the fight for His life.
How could He fail? He had learned from the King;
He earned the praises His Subjects now sing.
Vanquished to Nowhere the Old Man would cry;
Though safe with His daughter, He wanted to die.
“What did I do to my Beautiful Son?
What is this terrible thing I have done?”
Be Joyous Old Man; you did what you must;
It was only in you that God placed His Trust.
The Boy with the basketball when all this began;
Your happy loved Child, is now a Respected Feared Man.

"Pete R." by Donald Lee Hardy, 2007 Winner James Joyce Society Essay Contest

Most of us, if not all of us, know someone whose influence has made a profound life-changing impact upon our lives, "Angels in Human Form," as it were. That someone may be a parent, spouse, teacher, friend, work superior, historical figure, perhaps even a perfect stranger.

Many of you reading this are now in the 6th, some the 7th or even 8th decade of your sojourn on this planet. As you reflect upon where you've been, and how you got from "there" to "here," you are, no doubt, in awe of the incredible, miraculous, and adventuresome journey that has been your life.

Tell us your story about who and how that special someone affected your life and a $100 Cash Prize will be paid to the Winner of the most interesting story. Cash Prizes are also available for 2nd Place, 3rd Place, and 2 Honorable Mentions.

THE JUDGES

Liam MacSheonin, Irish Literary Critic, Author-Member, The James Joyce Society of New York; assisted by Peter Curcio, Bureau Chief, The Italian American News Agency; and Ed Bloom, Correspondent, Jewish Media Group.

SUBJECT: WINNING ESSAYS

TO: Steve Savage, Essay Sponsor
FROM: Liam MacSheonin, Chmn., ad hoc Essay Evaluation Committee

It is our privilege to announce the Winning Essays of The James Joyce Society Essay Contest 2007. Of the 27 finalist essays submitted from five groups representing over 350 invitations, they are as follows: First Place "Award of Excellence 2007" $100 Cash Prize: "Pete R." by Donald Lee Hardy of the Kagnew Station Guard Group; 2nd Place $75 Cash Prize: "Ace Alagna, KM" by Martin Masi of the Gruppo Mutuo Succorso; 3rd Place $50 Cash Prize: "Rabbi Aaron Lefkowitz" by Steve Rosen, Borders Books Writers Club; and 2 Honorable Mentions, $25 Cash Prize each: "Father Jeremiah Murphy" by Edward MacDonald, Barnes & Noble Writers Club; and "Shirley Chisholm" by Aquila Williams, Douglas College.

The First Place Cash Prize winnings that you deposited with us, at the request of Mr. Hardy, will be donated to the Scottish Rite Hospital for Crippled Children in Dallas, Texas, accompanied by this notification. Also, per your instructions, copies will be sent to The Kagnew Guard Group, Masonic Post Oak Island Lodge #181, Beaukiss, Texas; and to: The Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry, Washington, D.C., whose Supreme Council, on June 20, 2007, elected Mr. Hardy to the Rank and Decoration of Knight Commander of the Court of Honor.

We believe that your Blog readers will concur with our decision and enjoy, with us, Mr. Hardy's very inspirational, very readable, conversational-style essay. Please convey our congratulations to Mr. Hardy on being named The James Joyce Society Essay Contest Award Recipient 2007, and extend congratulations, as well, to each successive Honoree.

On a personal note, my associates and I would like to express how impressed we were with the content of the majority of the 27 essays submitted. It did not make for an easy task, we can assure you. However, we did judge with strict impartiality.

Sincerely,

Liam MacSheonin, in association with Peter Curcio, and Ed Bloom

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"Pete R." by Donald Lee Hardy (photo)

This story begins in the late 1950s on the Texas-Mexican border in a little town called Pharr. I am the oldest of four children brought into this world by a hard-working middle-class couple who captured their piece of the “American Dream” the old-fashioned way. They worked for it. Either of my parents would have been ideal candidates for the subject of this piece because they both did everything humanly possible to make sure that my two sisters, brother and I, got the right start in life. But as much as my folks did to make sure our needs were fulfilled, they couldn’t be there every minute of every day and the Republic of Mexico was only eight short miles away.

I don’t really remember when I had my first drink of alcohol but I do know that from about the time I was fifteen years old till my mid-thirties, my life centered around when I was going to “get drunk.” At first, it was no big deal. Booze was easy to get. If I couldn’t get a beer with my fake ID, I’d hitch-hike to Reynosa and smuggle a pint of tequila back in each of my cowboy boots. So, from about the time I started Junior High School on, I was addicted. Addiction was no problem. Academically, I excelled and managed to graduate near the top of my high school class but college was a different story. They didn’t care if you showed up or not, and nobody called your parents, so it was one semester and then “Hello Uncle Sam." Hell, the Army of the 60's was a wino's paradise. I stayed for four years and made Staff Sergeant but towards the end of my hitch I had crossed some sort of line and could no longer stay out of trouble.

The remainder of my “drunk-a-log” is pretty much typical. I tried being a cop for a while and then landed a job as a corporate investigator, jumped to another company and was doing fantastic financially. I’d married shortly after I got out of the Army and fathered two children but finally the addiction got me. After drinking myself out of a job a lot of guys would kill for, I went to work as a boilermaker and welder. Jobs in construction were easy to come by, but even construction companies expect you to show up and produce. I’d finally graduated to full-blown alcoholic. I couldn’t hold a job. The repo man had our cars and, to be honest, I figured I had about a year to live the way I was going. Somehow I managed to con a used car salesman out of a beat-up old Ford station wagon and headed from Houston back to the border so my wife and kids could at least have a roof over their heads and food to eat at my in-laws' farm.

My plan was to leave them there, go off somewhere and drink myself to death but my wife got me court-committed to a state-run rehab facility for two weeks. It was there that I met the man who saved my life. His name was Pete R.

Pete was twelve years my senior and twelve years sober. A real “no-bullshit” type of guy who worked as a mechanic out of his home shop by day and dedicated every minute of his spare time to the Twelfth Step of AA; that is, to carry the message he had received to others who were still suffering. Another thing about Pete is, he never gave up on anybody. I did my first two-week stint in rehab and came out firmly convinced that I had the demon whipped. Hah! I was 33 at the time and dumb enough to believe that I could alter eighteen years of lifestyle in fourteen days. I lasted about a month and landed back in rehab. Pete would show up for AA group sessions a couple of times a week and quietly tell his story. Well, I’d tried this sobering up business my way without success so I figured I’d listen to this skinny little bastard. At least he wasn’t still going through the hell I was.

Pete’s message was simple. Get up every morning and ask your higher power for the ability to make it through the day without getting drunk. Go to as many AA meetings as you could (at least once a day) and if you stayed sober for that day, thank your higher power for another day without alcohol. He also preached that you should keep yourself busy helping others attempt to get and stay sober.

I went to rehab seven times during a two year period. Everybody gave up on me but me and Pete. My next to the last time was at the VA Hospital in Kerrville, Texas. Pete had driven me up for the 45-day program but when I “graduated” I had to hitch-hike home. When I got to Edinburg, Texas, which was about ten miles north of where I needed to be, I called Pete. He told me that he was tied up and needed me to substitute for him at his meeting at the rehab center in Edinburg. I protested that I’d only got out of a program the day before; to which he replied, “Good, it’s fresh on your mind. Go talk to them and I’ll pick you up at 5 PM.” I did and he came through with the ride.

My last stint in rehab was at the Rio Grande Valley State Center in Harlingen, Texas. The place was pretty much the end of the line. Not much counseling, just a lock-up for 30 days and then back out on the street to drink until a bed opened up. I was the only non-Hispanic in the place. I don’t know why this was the last time. I do know that Pete made the thirty-mile drive to see me several times a week and, as soon as I got out, gave me a place to stay and a job doing minor welding, oil changes, brakes, tune-ups, etc. And we did Twelve Step work. Every night we did Twelve Step work. Sometimes we’d work with some poor soul all night and mechanic all day and still make a couple AA meetings. I stayed with Pete for about a year and eventually began to trust myself.

My last drink was twenty-five years ago. I went on to build a couple of successful companies and a solid reputation. I am a member of the oldest fraternal organization in the world and have been honored by this organization in many ways. I enjoy a wonderful relationship with my kids and grand-kids; and my ex-wife and I are friends, although why this saint of a woman would ever speak to me again is a mystery.

All of the success and happiness I now enjoy, and the good I attempt to do in this world, would not have happened but for Pete R.

Pete passed away two years ago. His quiet dedication to his work of many years resulted in countless stories like mine. He was probably the best man I ever knew.

BuDaT

WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

Thousands of years ago, in the Unrecorded Past,
After countless Near-Collisions;
Mars and Venus met at last.
The Spirits of those Planets
Fell here to nearby Earth;
Symbiotically conjoining,
With our children in their Birth.
We who are seen they call the “Host;”
The One not seen, we call the “Ghost.”
We, who are of the Body, are the Sons of Man;
Slaves of Alien Beings to serve their Evil Plan.
When our Natural King had unfettered His Cord,
He soon became the Sacrifice to the One we call the “Lord.”
Unbeknownst to the Aliens, the Royal seed didn't die with the King;
It was passed from Father to Unborn Son along with a Secret Ring.
Instructed in the Mysteries, not humanly understood,
The “King of Beasts,” the Son of Man,
Serves the God of the Greatest Good.
The Time is almost upon us when there’ll be no Chariots to Ride;
Because the “King of Beasts” became “Destroyer,”
The day his Master took His Bride.

AT THE VETERANS DAY PARADE by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

AT THE VETERANS DAY PARADE by Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

“Oh excuse me sir, I really hope you don’t mind;
I saw you watching the Parade and you seemed so kind.
You see, I’m a Disabled Vet who served in Iraq;
And the benefits they promised are being held back.
The Veterans Administration, the one who dispenses,
Refuses to acknowledge my Traumatized Senses.
My wife and I are now out of our home;
And with no place to sleep, it’s the streets we must roam.
We lost the security of our home’s roof,
Because the VA won’t pay without physical proof.
So please kind sir, if you could find it in your heart,
Do you have some spare change with which you can part?”
“Have you no Patriotism - you and your bothersome Hag?
Can’t you see I’m busy waving the Flag?
Go find some park bench where you can sit.
I’ve got to cheer the Marchers: Hip, Hip, O’Crit!”

"THE WORLD ILLUSION" through Steve Savage "King of the Beasts"

THE WORLD ILLUSIONby Ella Wheeler Wilcox 

God and I alone in space,
And nobody else in view.
“And where are the people, O Lord," I said,
“With the earth beneath and sky overhead,
“And the dead that I once knew?”

“That was a dream,” God smiled and said.
“A dream that was never true.
“There are no people, living or dead,
“No earth beneath, and no sky overhead,
“There are only Myself and You.”

“And why do I have no fear,” I said,
“Meeting You here this way?
“For I have sinned I know full well;
“And is there Heaven and also Hell?
“And is this the Judgment Day?”

“Those are dreams again,” the Great God said.
“Dreams that have ceased to be.
“Fear and sin are the product of mind,
“And you are a ghost that has never been;
“For there is nothing at all but ME.”

RICHARD DAWKINS, MILITANT ATHEIST by Steve Savage

"Once a year, 1000 remarkable people gather in Monterey, California to exchange something of incalculable value - their ideas. What happens there has never been shared until now."

One of the speakers, Oxford University's noted evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins (photo), gave a devastating critique of religion that has made him a leading figure in the New Atheism.

Here is my reply to Mr. Dawkins:
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"Men believe what they cannot prove" - Kwai Chang Caine

Atheism is a belief, a conviction, not provable. "Does God exist? If He does not exist, then who is it that Atheists believe they deny? Science, in the language of Quantum Theory, says God does exist because "All things are possible." Mr. Dawkins is, of course, an absolutely brilliant man in this Realm of Relativity in which we all find ourselves and, as such, he pitches a very cogent, persuasive appeal for his opinions to those whom he considers espouse the belief that they are the Elite among us. His English accent, couched in pomposity and arrogance, doesn't hurt the presentation either. It's perfectly natural for parts to seek out their analogs within the structure of the Whole; the Law of Homogeneity at work, birds of a feather wanting to flock together. So the Draft call to enlist in the Army of Militant Atheism by Mr. Dawkins is quite understandable. My concern is that we are all here, on a Great Round Ball, smack dab in the middle of Zero and Infinity, not knowing who we are, where we came from, why we are here, and where we are going from here, if anywhere. While it is true that in our Realm of Relative Existence, some are relatively more intelligent than others; on the Level Playing Field in which we find ourselves, we are all absolutely as equally ignorant in our ability to come up with answers to the Eternal Questions. I have often wondered what would happen if, for one reason or another, the masses became convinced that there is no God. Would the poor and hungry turn upon the rich and satisfied? In the "Bhagavad Gita," the Song of God, Dharma asks of Yudisthira, "Of all the world's wonders, which is the most wonderful?" And Yudisthira replies: "That no man, though he sees others dying all about him, believes that he, himself, will not die." So unless Mr. Dawkins is an immortal, the time will come for him to stand before the Door that leads into the Great Unknown. He may very well find himself rapidly evolving from Militant Atheist to Agnostic, to Believer, to Repentant Metanoid. And, of course, he will be welcomed with open arms.