Sunday, February 7, 2016


    “I’m afraid of Americans,

I’m afraid of the world,

I’m afraid I can’t help it,

I’m afraid I can’t…

God is an American.”

             David Bowie

     “There was a time

A storm that blew so pure,

And this could be the biggest sky

And I could have the faintest idea

For this is not America

This is not America.”

               David Bowie

     “Midnight on the water

I saw the ocean’s daughter

Walking on a wave’s chicane

Staring as she called my name/

Breakdown, on the shoreline

Can’t move, it’s an ebbtide

Morning don’t get here tonight

Searching for her silver light,

And I can’t get it out of my head

No I can’t get it out of my head

Now my whole world is gone for dead

‘Cause I can’t get it out of my head.”

               Electric Light Orchestra

     “Woke up in my clothes again this morning,

Don’t know exactly where I am

I should heed my doctor’s warning

He does the best with me he can

He claims I suffer from delusions

Yet I’m so confident I’m sane

It can’t be an optical illusion

So how

    Can you explain

Shadows in the rain?”


     Welcome back all you midnight riders, come enter with me once again beyond the beaded curtains and hidden passageways of this night gallery into the mountainous shadows that hide both the sacred and the profane of our strange little corner of the universe.  Tonight we’ll be examining bizarre frequencies that connect two very different psychological operations that span decades.  Within them lurk causal ripples that spiral out from each event, and serve far darker purposes than that which can only be glimpsed in the rubric of the material world.  They float an agenda that seeks to craft a liminal domain; that space in between where darker gods nurture urgings that their earthly puppets can never dare claim as their own in the purifying light of day.  Both of these events can ultimately be seen as something more than the sum of their admittedly already-dark-parts, and in pulling at this connecting thread between the two, we enter waters as potentially dangerous as any these writings have ever attempted to navigate.  So strap in as we shoot the terminal rapids of an agenda-of-no-return that continues to have vast ramifications in our world today, ramifications that create dangerous visions.  And maybe, that’s the point. 


     “You’re, sailing softly through the sun

In a broken stone age dawn, you fly, so high

(I get a) Strange Magic (oh what a) Strange Magic

(Oh it’s a) Strange Magic

You’re walking meadows in my mind

Making waves across my time

Oh no, oh no (I get a)…

Oh I’m never gonna be the same again

Now I’ve seen the way it’s got to end

Sweet dream, sweet dream.”

                                 Electric Light Orchestra


Over December 26th, 27th, and 29th of 1980, some altogether bizarre occurrences were transpiring at the Bentwaters/Woodbridge American/RAF Air Force Base alongside Rendlesham forest in Suffolk, England.  On the first night, to cut a long and extremely convoluted story short, there were two primary witnesses (among others) to what was assumed to be a downed aircraft in Rendlesham forest.  Security officers John Burroughs and Jim Penniston investigated, only to be confronted with unknown lights in the forest, a zone of electromagnetic energy and static electricity, and a “high strangeness” factor kicking in that made it seem as if both were moving through molasses in slow motion.  Reaching the epicenter of the floating, rotating, and flashing blue and red lights, they came upon a triangular craft of unknown origin, approximately 9.8 feet per side, that appeared to be constructed of a gleaming, polished obsidian.  Penniston advanced on the object, actually coming close enough to touch it.  He felt an immediate warmth and saw upon its hull characters that resembled nothing so much as Egyptian hieroglyphics.   

     The object soon after being touched began to emit a piercing hum as if activated, alarming both men enough to cause Penniston to scream and command Burroughs to unholster and fire on it.  Accounts at this point vary, but some reports say Burroughs physically jumped on the object as it began to weave its way through the trees, before either jumping or falling off prior to the craft ascending vertically at an “impossible speed,” and knocking both men to the ground with a downward blast of cold air.  Burroughs to this day has hazy recall of both his actions after entering the landing zone as well as the thoughts that were placed in his mind during the incident.  He would return to the forest on both other subsequent nights of the sightings as if compelled.  Subsequent clinical hypnosis sessions over the ensuing years have shown that Burroughs, on the second (Halt) night, encountered yet another physical craft of unknown origin on the ground, and disappeared in full view of at least one witness for an unspecified period of time before reappearing at a point some distance away. 


     The next day following an obviously sleepless night, Penniston returned to the clearing of the previous night’s events and took plaster casts of three landing marks forming an equilateral triangle that were embedded nearly 5 inches into the forest floor, showing an object of some serious mass had touched down there, not to mention a background residue of abnormally high radiation readings within and near the landing area, including on the facing sides of the surrounding trees.  Both men learned upon returning to the base that they had been lost to radio contact for some 40 minutes during the night. 

     On the second night of the three, the base auxiliary commander Col. Charles Halt, attending an on-base Christmas party, was notified of high strangeness events still ongoing in the skies over the forest and perimeter areas.  Assembling a troop of men to investigate, they ventured out into the forest, only to witness multiple objects high above the treeline, both spherical and crescent shaped, to scale approximately the size of an aspirin tablet held at arm’s length. 

     These objects were seen firing beams of light down to the ground, including over and penetrating the base’s underground weapons storage facility, (then unknown at the time as being) the only base on European soil to house nuclear ordnance, i.e., atomic bombs and offensive-range missiles with nuclear tipped warheads.  All of these weapons were, according to an official, still classified report from the Ministry of Defense since verified by multiple sources, ominously listed as being “adversely affected.”  

     As well as the incidents with the light beams, Halt and Co. also encountered a brightly glowing object that winked like an eye with a dark center, maneuvered through the forest with seeming disregard for the physical reality of the trees, and appeared to be dripping a substance that looked like molten metal as it moved in an alternate zig-zag and falling leaf motion, before finally again lifting off for the heavens at unfathomable speeds.  Halt recorded all of these events as they happened in real time on a pocket size mini-cassette recorder.  The audiotape down through the years has received much scrutiny, and has held up to rigorous voice-stress-analysis testing as being completely genuine; not surprising given the awe and fear dancing in the men's voices.  To this day for whatever reason, less than 30 minutes have been publicly released of a tape that admittedly runs to 90. 

     The cascading events reached a crescendo on night three with the ultimate otherworldly experiences and amazing eyewitness testimony of 19 year-old security officer Larry Warren.  Warren in 1983 would prove to be the very first whistleblower to the Bentwaters events as he knew them, getting word out through the British News Of The World as well as a highlighted account that garnered two columns in the March 1983 U.S. Omni magazine’s popular “Ufo Update” section.  The fact that he “outed” every other name mentioned here so far, and many more besides, most certainly did NOT win him any friends in military circles.  But, it must be said, his story is the only one that hasn’t deviated one iota from his original telling in what is now over 35 years.  As we will learn however, the reason for less than clear memories of these events by all concerned is genuine and deep-seated, and delves into some very serious mind control tampering by intelligence, military, and corporate entities that play a very distinct role in what may be going on here, at least in part, and at least as an initiatory action.    

     Warren was stationed at the East Gate perimeter security post on the final night in question, and having just reported for duty after coming back from leave scant hours before, had heard little if nothing of the previous nights’ occurrences.  The after midnight air was dark, quiet, and warm for this late in December, in the forties, as Warren kept his post in the small, cozy, hut-like structure.  He would later think back that although all felt normal, something slightly “off” was present in the environment, and a creeping feeling of dread permeated the unspoken connotations of the night.  This was only heightened when five deer bolted across the tarmac as if suddenly startled, bounding quickly over a low fence only to vanish entirely again, enveloped by the dark woods.  Warren began to feel as if he was being watched.  Things felt more spinning emotionally sideways than ever when the Motorola radio com in front of him crackled into life, relaying a jittering voice colored with urgency and, unusually, Larry thought, just the slightest edge of low-grade panic. 

     Larry and fellow security airman Adrian Bustinza were among a contingent of between approximately 25 and 30 security airmen being called to Woodbridge base and into the interior of the Rendlesham forest to, ostensibly, replace some malfunctioning “light-alls.”  No sooner were they geared up and equipped for the task than the light-alls they had been supplied with began failing also.  These were mobile, gas-powered arclights capable of illuminating a wide area.  Since they were gas-fueled through generators and required no independent source of electricity to function (since they were in effect their own source), the reasons for the multiple failures were especially mysterious and worrying.  The men were ordered to get in jeeps and trucks and forge ahead anyway.  It must be noted here that all of the men’s firearms were confiscated prior to leaving; the reason being given was that it was against protocol for soldiers to be armed while functioning as essentially guests in a foreign country.  As soon as the convoy approached the more densely wooded areas of the forest perimeter, the vehicles found the way no longer passable, and the more than two dozen men disembarked and began to make their way on foot down the narrow trails deeper into the forest as directed by their superiors.  

     At this point Warren and Bustinza, side by side, began to notice a distinct feeling of what could best be described as “unreality” take over their senses.  Acutely now almost hyper-aware of their movements and surroundings, time seemed to be slowing down incrementally.  A distinct zone of static electricity surrounded them, so much so that their customary-issue berets began to be pushed off their heads in contact with their hair.  It became harder and harder to physically move, the action taking on a feeling of pushing through something.  Their ears felt fuzzy and clogged with cotton.  The feeling was nearly identical to having to constantly ‘yawn’ to ‘pop’ your ears when descending rapidly from altitude.  

     Finally the contingent that Warren and Bustinza were with broke into a clearing and they were facing a large expanse of open field that Larry would later identify as Capel Green.  Warren noticed a fellow security officer sitting under a large tree, cradling his head in his hands, sobbing.  “What the hell’s going on?” he wondered.   They were partially elevated from the field itself and noticed a thick blanket of faintly yellowish fog that seemed to hover just above the top of the grass.  One particular portion of this fog seemed to comprise a round, raised platform only slightly elevated over the rest of the strange fogbank settling down on Capel Green.  “Maintain radio silence,” was, for the time being, the only thing Warren blearily heard coming over the walkies.  It sounded to him as if it were being transmitted under water.  “This is just like what happened in Alaska,” Bustinza whispered.  


     Before Larry could ask Adrian what in the hell that meant, a radio sizzled into life to proclaim “Here it comes, here it comes, here it comes” in calm, measured tones.  Strangely assured.  Larry, without knowing exactly where to turn his head, happened to swivel just in time to see a small red ball, from what he could tell approximately the size of a basketball, heading in to their position from the North Sea.  It looped and whorled in flight until it settled just above the slight platform in the fogbank, where it hovered momentarily before exploding soundlessly in a dazzling, eye-searing display of white shards scattering everywhere.  Such was the intensity of the explosion that Larry’s eyes began to water immediately, and he was blinded momentarily.  Subsequent medical examinations diagnosed him with burned retinas, as if he had stared directly at a magnesium-welding torch for several minutes.     

     By the time he could finally focus on the area of the explosion, both the red ball and the fog had disappeared, leaving what appeared to be some kind of machine in their place, large and triangular in shape.  Larry noticed a farmhouse far off the edge of the field with a light on in the second story.  Whoever was in there had an unobstructed view.  Somebody else is seeing this too, he thought.  Motion picture cameras mounted on tripods that he had noticed when entering Capel Green were now manned and rolling, as well as several other officers and local police with hand held cameras clicking away.  As he struggled to take in everything that was happening at once, he heard his name being called out as part of the first wave of security that was instructed to advance on the unknown craft.  Once in place they were ordered in no uncertain terms not to move. 

     Some men broke ranks and ran into the woods in uncontrolled panic and were soon replaced by others, seemingly in trance-mode and probable shock.  Warren and Bustinza both moved in as they were ordered, and as they got closer, Larry noted, as opposed to a new and incredible technology, just how old the thing looked.  The craft gave off a constant, eye-watering shimmer of rainbow colors.  Although he had no knowledge of the earlier dimensions, this one was taller and larger than the craft that Penniston and Burroughs had encountered, perhaps 10 feet tall, with an angular circumference of possibly 13 or 14 feet, although any dimensions were a guess owing to how hard it was to look at due to the brightness and vibrancy of the ever-shifting colors.  He could tell that it was roughly pyramidal.  From what he could determine, it had what looked like pipes and retro-fittings jutting out from its surface.  Strangely enough, Warren found that much like a celestial object such as a comet, he could view the craft much better and in far more detail, out of his peripheral vision. He noticed, for instance, that it seemed to have 3 struts as landing gear or supports. 


     Time and space had slowed to a near crawl now.  They had been originally ordered to ring the object in a security perimeter, but unlike their usual protocol and stance, which called for them to face away from whatever they were guarding, this time they were ordered to face the craft.  Now the order came for the men to begin walking counterclockwise around the object, or “widdershins” as it was known to the ancient Lowland Scots, as it was long known to be extremely unlucky, to the point of causing disaster, in occult lore and superstition.  To travel in an anti-clockwise direction was a course contrary to the natural one.  Interestingly, in the Childe Rowland folk myth, the protagonist and his sister are transported to Elfland after his sister runs widdershins around a church.  In the mythology of the North Yorkshire Moors, it is believed that if you dance nine times widdershins around a fairy ring of toadstools, you will come under the power of the fairy people.   

    Several steps to the left and halt.  Several steps to the right and halt.  This was the pattern ordered over and again to the men to enact.  Warren noticed that, strangely, each of the men had their shadows cast onto the craft, despite the fact that there was no light source behind them.  The only light source in the field was the object.  Our shadows should be cast behind us, not onto whatever this was.  What was this?  This doesn’t seem possible.  He also noted that as it seemed to pull their shadows onto itself, at the top of the craft, where the shadows of their heads all converged, each head seemed to have a shiny orb over it.  And these weren’t the only surreal effects – the strangest one of all awaited with their abbreviated marching orders – because as they all marched those steps and stopped in military precision, they eerily noted that after they stopped, each of their shadows would advance exactly one more step.    

     Soon this drill ended and Warren noted the presence of Chief base commander Gordon Williams on the scene, and he wasn’t alone.  What happened next he found hardest of all to assimilate in his mind, because three translucent orbs appeared from around the far side of the ship from Larry’s perspective.  They seemed to house three distinct, moving, 3-to-4-foot tall living creatures.  The first thought that rushed unbidden into his mind was “What are these kids doing here?”  But to his shock as the orbs gradually faded, nothing human was observed.  These were small, translucent, nearly ghostly entities that floated as they moved without touching the ground, with large, completely round, catlike black eyes, and large heads.  They wore bright, almost silvery clothing, and they now appeared to be in some kind of interaction with Williams.  As they approached the tall Williams, their heads craned back as their gaze sought his face, and Warren immediately noted that all communication was telepathic as Williams’ mouth never moved and the beings appeared to have no mouth from what he could see.  At one point somewhere in the forest a tree fell with a loud snapping thud and the three entities crossed their arms over their chests and retreated underneath a pylon of the craft, a white membrane covering their eyes, only to reappear when Williams used a reassuring, coaxing gesture with his hands. With the communication seemingly finished, the three entities floated around to the far side and evidently re-boarded the object as Warren lost sight of them.   

     Warren and his contingent were ordered one by one to break ranks and fall back towards the jeeps and trucks on the edge of the forest, but not before Warren cast one long look back at the scene that would change his life, his philosophy, and his thoughts about God, reality, and the whole of the universe forever.  Note that he would never see the craft leave.  By the time he got back to his bunk and the first pastels of sunlight were beginning to streak the sky, he looked in the mirror to take stock of what had happened, and who he was anymore, only to notice that a swatch of his hair had gone pure white.  And the tribulations and revelations for Larry Warren were only beginning.  He has extremely vague, almost fugue-state recall of being sprayed with an incapacitant and physically abducted outside his barracks one night along with another airman, and taken into an underground facility at the base for what he presumed was a “debriefing.”  This underground facility was of such dimensions that most if not all of it would, of necessity, have to have been located far below the North Sea itself.

     Warren along with a clutch of others were also taken into a briefing room at the base and shown a reel-to-reel film by unknown superiors that with further investigation were discovered to be affiliated with either the CIA or NSA.  The film was a montage of various craft much like the one Warren and Co. had been exposed to: a gun camera film from some time after the Second World War, taken by a flight in pursuit of a metallic silver disc over an unspecified jungle.  Warren vividly remembers during this portion seeing the sunlight cast a perfectly round shadow of the disc down directly onto the thick jungle canopy as it flew.  Another scene was of multiple craft ringing a large crater on the moon as the Apollo-era astronauts below filmed.  Another scene that stood out was seemingly Vietnam-era footage of a massive boomerang-shaped object, near aircraft carrier-size, rising from the jungle floor, vines and foliage falling off of it as it ascended silently amid the screams and pointing of the infantry and the disturbing cries of flocks of jungle birds fleeing the area.     

     Warren and companions after viewing this were informed by these unknown superiors that all these craft represented a formidable intelligence that had been a presence on this planet for far longer than any of them had been alive.  They were also threatened in no uncertain terms that if any of them would so much as breathe a word of any of what they had seen and experienced over the past days and nights that “bullets were cheap,” and that this extended to all friends and family quite easily. Multiple physical maladies also were present in the immediate aftermath as well as ongoing throughout the adult lives of those exposed: radiation bleeding and burns, burned retinas, enlarged hearts, grossly irregular heartbeats, central nervous system abnormalities, etc.  The medical records of Burroughs and Penniston, and the medical and personnel records of Warren were all classified jointly by the U.S. State Department and the British Ministry of Defense.


     Larry Warren: “Many events followed in rapid succession.  Some were tragic.  One of the first odd things I noticed was that some of my fellow cops, ones who’d also seen the UFO, were suddenly no longer on base.  The poor kid who’d read his Bible during the debriefing was so shook up about being told that religion had been invented to maintain order and control that soon after he went AWOL.  He flew to Chicago, where he was met by the FBI, put on the next plane to England, and returned to duty.  He’d told me he felt the place was evil and that, if he didn’t get out, he’d die.  Shortly thereafter, he blew his head off while on post.  I saw the aftermath of his suicide, and it wasn’t pleasant.  People who didn’t know the truth said he’d been unstable to begin with; I knew otherwise.”           

     In the days and weeks following the cosmic shadow play that befell Burroughs, Penniston, Bustinza, Warren, and countless others at Bentwaters/Woodbridge those December nights in 1980, they were subjected to a programmed assault on their senses in many ways even greater than what they had experienced up until that point.  Because factions of military intelligence and other shadowy defense department contractors, as well as others likely to be CIA and NSA weren’t even close to being through with these “experiencers.” 


     All of these men have gaps in their memory constituting the classic “missing time.”  All of these men show multiple signs of brainwave entrainment, possible electronic dissolution of memory, and hypnotic intra-cerebral manipulation.  All have been subjected to drugging by injection or ingestion.  We KNOW from multiple accounts that all of this happened after their experiences with something “other.”  (See in particular the exemplary Left At East Gate, A First-Hand Account of the Bentwaters-Woodbridge UFO Incident, its Cover-Up, and Investigation by Larry Warren and Peter Robbins. It remains, after almost 20 years, the finest account ever published of verified military interaction with what appear to be non-ballistic craft and non-human intelligences.)  Can we be so sure much of this manipulation didn’t also happen before and during the events in question?  Or is the ultimate answer even darker and more convoluted?  Just what was going on in and around Rendlesham forest in that time period, and to what end?  

     Strange connections keep springing to mind, such as the bright shining orbs that appeared over the shadows of the heads of Warren’s security complement as they were somehow cast, drawn onto the craft on the third night in Capel Green.  Why does this remind me of nothing so much as the orbs that were always depicted just over the heads of Egyptian deities such as Hathor, Thoth, and Horus?  To say nothing of the ancient occult component of walking counterclockwise around the object.  What hidden, suppressed knowledge were Warren’s superiors acting on?  Were they seeking to activate something according to long, lost ritual?  

     And here, all you space-jockeying, toadstool-jumping boys and girls, we arrive at the point where we begin stepping on some very scary toes.  Because according to documents just unearthed in 2015, it has come to light that specific technology existed to explain at least part of what occurred at Bentwaters, and a series of various symposiums were held in the years leading up to that event that included some very interesting attendees, ones well versed in the machinations of one of the favorite hobbies of the Deep State, manipulation of the human mind.  And beyond even that far horizon lies something else.  Something darker.


     The research project covering the adaptations and conversions of technology that could have been used at Rendlesham to simulate off-world events spanned exactly ten years and was supposedly carried out on unspecified nuclear bases.  British Ufo researcher Sacha Christie collected notes for symposiums numbering 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 that took place under the auspices of the Defense Nuclear Agency at the National Bureau of Standards, Washington, D.C. over that span.  Notes for symposium number 4, applied for as all the others, under the Freedom of Information Act, and just coincidentally covering the year 1980, is listed as missing and still unavailable after 35 years.  The technology and areas explored and initiated at these symposiums included patents for plasma charged bolts, plasma generators, biofeedback, ion beams, charged particle beam accelerators, leaky cable intrusion detector sensors, starfish bunched electron beam converters, solid state Doppler radar, triaxial tactile sensors, ELF audio and emotional stimulation, and human hypersensitivities to electric and magnetic fields, plus the effects of weather sensitivity on stressed personnel. 


     Listed in the numbered accounting of attendees to the 2nd and 3rd symposiums, once again held at the National Bureau of Standards in Washington, D.C., over the 1978-1979 period, we find key representatives of a Defense Contractor all but unknown at that time: MITRE.  The grave interests of a defense contractor in such technology in the critical years leading up to what appears, for all intents and purposes, to be a serious running of that technology in a real world field test against human assets, is something more than a curious historical footnote.  Especially given what we’ve learned about MITRE in the intervening years.         

     Listen to this highly important and clue-ridden view from the inside, from the site under historical developments: 


     “In 1944, then MIT professor Jay Wright Forrester, with perhaps a high of academic praise for ‘founding’ the concepts of System Dynamics, began applying his research to a flight simulator to change the way wars could be waged.  It is likely that our mad generals were nonplussed by the eerie silence of the terrorist bombers they hired to release the world’s first weapons of mass destruction detonated on a living civilian population.  Should such gloomy Guses returning home with grave stories of horror be replaced by the erotic, happy hum of an indifferent machine, perhaps everyone could be as excited as they were to see the liquefied, boiling remains of a million innocent lives.  Or rather, not have to see them at all.

     What began as a method of controlling and flying war machines, turned into the first (publicly known) digital computer: Project Whirlwind.  A number of generals swarmed out of the Pentagon (and out of retirement) to confirm various speculated theories on man-human symbiosis, war automation, and the control of the system dynamics of humanity itself.  Quietly, excitedly, and well-funded, Forrester spent twelve years on Project Whirlwind, developing and growing his experiment into a powerful basis for the Pentagon’s research into the unknown theatres of war.

     In 1958, two years after Forrester abandoned the project to its unnamed handlers at MIT, a non-government collective of retired war generals formed a corporation around it called MITRE, disguised for the time being as a ‘branch’ of MIT; the Whirlwind computer was rechristened as a component of their newly proposed air-based weapon SAGE (Semi Automatic Ground Environment); and the concept was formally redefined as the premiere enterprise to further the ‘automation of war.’  At its founding, MITRE trustees had access to every significant electronic invention in the previous (and next) fifty years, forming around and within two hugely significant macro-groups:  the IEEE (Institute of Electrical and Electronics Engineers, involving predominantly white engineering fraternities such as Sigma Xi and Theta Xi), and the Pentagon-area ‘research triangle’ stretching from Virginia to North Carolina.  The computer was born.  And it was a weapon.”

     Add all that information, starting in 1944, to this listing from early 1963:


     Place: ARPA development program, MITRE, Boston, MA and Pentagon, Arlington, VA

“Council on Foreign Relations member Jack P. Ruina, humble professor of engineering at MIT, is beginning involvement with a series of social psychologists working for the military under the exploding non-governmental branch known as the Advanced Research Projects Agency.  Just five years prior, MIT’s Lincoln laboratory had been transformed into the MITRE Corporation.  The whole area of neuroscience, behavioral science, and the control of human thought had excited developers like Ruina, working on computers capable of talking to one another and exchanging ‘thoughts’ and information.  One of the scientists eager to offer their research skills for the opportunity to observe previously unheard of numbers of people – and further develop system dynamics into a study coldly named ‘human terrain’ – was the Pentagon (anti-) social psychologist behind ‘psychoacoustics’ and MIT VIP Joseph Carl Robnett Licklider.”


     Now compare and contrast all of this above information with the knowledge we have today of what went on in and around the Rendlesham forest in December 1980.  More and more a clear outline begins to form of a merger, a merger between the realms of inner and outer space, the existential with the base material, as if some kind of alchemy was being attempted; a transformative process to bring something new either into the world, or, more ominously, to bring about a whole new world entirely, as the next part of our tale illustrates.               


     MITRE Corp was still a publicly little-known, not-for-profit organization located in Bedford, Massachusetts, and McLean, Virginia when dealing in the technology that may have initiated what happened at Bentwaters.  It still had that same anonymous status in the 2 years it, along with sister company Ptech, commandeered the basements of the FAA, NORAD, the Department of Defense, and the U.S. Air Force before that eerily clear blue morning of September 11, 2001.  Then, suddenly, a lot of concerned people wanted to know exactly what MITRE was running in those basements.  Or, more to the point, a lot of people, especially at the official level, suddenly really didn’t want to know exactly what MITRE was doing.  A baffling lack of curiosity you might say, considering the implications.  As far as I know, no one has made the connection of MITRE to these two critical events in Deep State history before, and how they both concern issues of interoperability.  And the fact is that all architects of chaos and destruction need contractors.  

     By linking the FAA, NORAD, the DOD, and Air Force computer systems on the morning of 9/11, MITRE, according to whistleblower Indira Singh, “had the specific job of looking at interoperability issues the FAA had with NORAD and the Air Force, in case of emergency,” as it was actually worded in transcripts of the 9/11 Citizens’ Commission hearings.  This played deeply in to the “radar injects” and “phantom flights” during the many wargames taking place that morning that served to muddy the waters and paralyze the system, the response time abilities, and even the minds of those that could have made a difference given the correct information in real-time.  (An aside: It should be noted that Singh is (was?) an IT professional who worked on Wall Street until 2002 where she gathered deep inside knowledge of what had transpired on 9/11, and how.  Her investigations ultimately led her on a money trail connecting 9/11 to worldwide child trafficking and pedophile rings, Bohemian Grove, and the intimate involvement of the Bush family.  She disclosed all of this and more in a critical interview given to radio personality Mike Corbin in 2005 on his show For A Closer Look.  Not long after this show Corbin was found dead in his car under suspicious circumstances and his good friend Singh had gone into hiding.  As of this writing, now some 11 years later, her whereabouts, and ultimate fate, still remain unknown.  An excellent playlist of 10 videos comprising the entire interview is still up on Youtube under the heading ‘Indira Singh & Michael Corbin – 2005 – Terrorist Shell Organizations.’  Give it a listen.)


     But there remains one final perspective on MITRE and its decades long thread connecting Bentwaters to 9/11, and it is by turns the most fanciful, as well as the darkest.  Let’s be honest, there have always been lingering questions about the blacker occult aspects of the 9/11 operation in any critical, free-thinking appraisal.  As early as the second posting ever on this blog, Happy Vallee, thoughts were being entertained that whatever the psyop of 9/11 was, it was being used as a transformative platform for not just an entire culture, but the entire world, placing it under an umbrella of blanketing, high-volume Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for the purposes of liminal progression and the opening of possible pathways to facilitate the entry of unknown forces. 

     What we see at the Bentwaters/Woodbridge facility in the waning days of 1980 happens to be exactly that also, a fractional dry run for the larger-scale implementation to come, decades hence.  Sympathetic Magick of the Crowleyan variety at work in the real world.  One a ritual of mind control and soul manipulation.  The other a ritual of ongoing mass human sacrifice.  But both sympathetic magick, and both serving as occult workings, and rituals of summoning of forces even darker than the ones that had held sway here previously, dressed often in the trappings of “a thousand points of light.”  Everything must be for transformational purposes.  Perhaps this is where the ultimate answer lies behind the ongoing push in the mainstream media for GMOs and the transhumanist agenda, the headlong race for Humanity+.


     Larry Warren has now come to believe that the first two nights of the Bentwaters incidents were indeed sympathetic magick, a copying of totems; facsimiles of technology and/or beings, realms, or objects one wishes to initiate contact with, or summon, a dire occult practice going back to Frazer’s The Golden Bough in 1889.  These man-made sleights were put on display over the first two nights with plasmas, holograms, and more, in the hopes of opening a discourse with and calling forth the real thing on night three, which Larry Warren steadfastly maintains was 100% genuine.  Taking a look at our world today, merely in the topics of this blog month after month, we can only imagine what might have been called forth in the mass occult ritual that was 9/11.  And the distinct sorcery of MITRE was swirling at the center of both.  What are the odds exactly of that corporate fingerprint turning up at the scene of both mind crimes, of both summonings?


     Warner A. Eliot, Casper L. Woodbridge, E. L. Woodridge, and Dr. Jane Pratt.  All of McLean, Virginia.  These are the names of the MITRE representatives attending the 2nd and 3rd symposiums held at the National Bureau of Standards discussing the technologies we’ve looked at here pertaining to what went down in Rendlesham forest.  Anyone taking odds on whether or not these 3 or 4 people (Woodridge and Woodbridge might very well be the same person – an old intelligence trick) will ever show up before an open Congressional hearing on MKUltra-type experimentation and mind control testing on both servicemen and the civilian sector between the period 1980-2002?  Even the choosing of the name Woodbridge, before the fact, smacks of an in-your-face provocation; an inside joke they love.  



     And so it goes.  Interesting that when entering MITRE Corp in the search function of, the largest repository of 9/11 related information on the web, and the owners of a really spiffy all-inclusive 9/11 timeline, under ‘Type’ we get the result ‘Exception report.’  Under ‘Message’ we get the return ‘Got error 28 from storage engine.’  And finally under the heading ‘Description’ we see ‘The server encountered an internal error that prevented it from fulfilling this request.’  Curious, especially when partner-in-crime Ptech, on that same search engine, returns 14 events.


     Just this evening when entering the phrase ‘Mitre Corp links to 9/11’ in the standard Yahoo search engine, and clicking each of the top 5 results, a page is displayed saying ‘FORBIDDEN. This link is not authorized by Yahoo. If you would like to continue to this link’s intended destination at your own risk, click here.’


     On Wikipedia, sections detailing MITRE’s possible involvement in 9/11 are continuously monitored and removed.



     Welcome to the machine.



    “Cruel lover, I lay me down again in your arms

Undress me and possess me with your tongues of fire

Widdershins feeding from the child to the breast

I plunge my knife in you at all hell’s behest

Cruel mother, dig your nails into my back

Grant my furtive soul a place in your design

Know me now as I place my ashes into your urn

Of the flesh am I and to the flesh I shall return

I am a shadow moving with shadows

I am blood and piss coming in waves

I am Isaiah’s nightmare brought into flesh now

I am the sword and the whip and the pleasure of slaves

Cruel father, I’ve climbed the ivory spire for you

I’ve seen your blade-like arms rake the stars from the sky

Tearing through the kingdom like so much kindling and straw

Casting down all order into the cape of salvation’s maw

Come rending and tearing speak to me in voracious lust

Crush my will and awake the snake at my spine

And when the whores of the night proclaim your name

I will know you then and there and I will go insane.”
                       The Devil’s Blood, from The Thousandfold Epicentre