The Octopus that Enslaves Us, and a Mirror

By: Ken LaRive, The Liberty Beacon

Some Americans feel that they have never faced an enemy like this, but they are wrong. It feels to them like a many-armed octopus is tapping them on their shoulder while picking their pocket. It seemingly has the ability to reach into their minds and both extract information and instill a thought so cleverly, it seems original. It can enslave them with debt, have their sons and daughters die in battles around the world without understanding why, entice them with tantalizing lust, or unimagined violence that stimulate adrenal glands.

Older Americans claim that history is being rewritten in the name of entertainment, as mind-altering agendas make their way from a black box they are conditioned to watch almost 4 hours a day, and promoted directly into a conscious act. And all of it is very lucrative, a pure Freudian science, a Machiavellian philosophy that goes comfortably unnoticed. It is business as usual.

They get a glimmer that something fearful is about to happen, like the destruction of civil liberties, or WW3, but it is so nebulous they just can’t quite wrap their minds around it. Few get to the point where they can comprehend that the first is already gone, and the second is a war for their very souls, the virtual enslavement of their spirit. In desperation they purchase the last boxes of hand-gun ammunition from empty shelves, and with a spontaneous inspiration, a new gun.

Some even join an organization like The Oath Keepers, hoping to find some sort of solace, support, and answers to questions they can’t quite formulate for themselves. Instead, they realize the same octopus that is seemingly threatening them, the octopus they want to defend against, is making money on the manufacture of the weapons they are buying. It seems a cruel joke, a cosmic joke of epic proportions, and irony at its best.

They feel more the fool because they can’t see this enemy. It is hidden from them like a wisp of smoke in a storm. They think of it as a sort of Wizard of OZ, a man behind the curtain if you will. And as they buy silver and gold, thinking their world is coming to an economic end, they hope that investing in tangible precious metals will help their family to survive. Certainly, it will keep in step with inflation. But then, in a flash of doubt and possible insight, they realize that the same octopus is selling it to them, that it might very well be coming right out of their own Fort Knox. They don’t know, because they have not cared to know, that the Federal Reserve has not allowed a public audit of Fort Knox in over fifty years. They do remember, however, that Ron Paul talked a bit about “fiat” something-or-other, and referred to things that were just too complicated to contemplate. And they don’t get why some of those odd-ball supporters at the GOP convention walked out. What bad sports, and they looked kind of strange too, all red-in-the-face…

Petitions circulate begging for their signature, and they ask themselves why they should solicit something that is already theirs. And they get angry, and angrier still. But this kind of anger is not the kind they can take to a proper gunfight, something like the OK Corral. They don’t see their enemies on the street at high noon. It is a echo, a reflection, a flicker just beyond their scope of vision and ken, and again, when they attempt to focus on it, they feel that little tap on their shoulder from long, well practiced and delicately nimble tentacles, distracting them. They have such trust, like little children, lambs to be sheered… or to the slaughter, and when it is seen that a push is needed, a false flag will manifest out of the blue.

They look around, and see the hollow-point rounds recently bought by what is called “Homeland Security” and envision for the moment the possibility that it could be used against them. They see the stacks of plastic coffins that can hold ten bodies at a time, and the detention centers being built called FEMA Camps all around the country, and their anger becomes a rage of fear and desperation, and vow that they will not go down without a fight. But they look around, and everyone is watching the game and laughing. What the hell, are we insane? Eat, drink, and be merry!…and they think that surely it is all just some grand illusion, a bad dream…

Yes, fear inspires action, but what action can one take when fighting an invisible foe, as one might think the battle will be fought from house to house as guns will be confiscated. You think you will die to defend your constitution, a constitution you realize has long been dissolved by the NDAA and the Patriot Act, and that state’s rights have not existed since the 14th amendment… And we watched old Abe, the author of this amendment, fight vampires on the silver screen this year… Are you planning to storm the White House when there is somehow a call to arms? Are you going to tar and feather Obama for treason, and run him out on a rail? Or hang him from the arms of a great oak on the Whitehouse lawn?

What chance does a mob have in the face of a well trained military industrialist complex of international bankers, and a Federal Reserve who can print money out of thin air? With that money they can buy machines, drones, mercenaries like Black Water, men without a conscience, without a country, without a thought but payment for services rendered. If they do not own it, they can control it, and the media is a case in point.

Are you going to face tear-gas, batons, bullet proof flak jackets and shields, 50 caliber machine gun nests, rockets, and all of it welded by men dressed in black? Are you going to hide behind a burning car in the middle of your neighborhood and toss a Molotov cocktail at them? Can you win? And if you actually won such a skirmish, what would you replace your old world with? What standard would be picked up? For instance, Ron Paul was a Libertarian, and he thought his best chance to be elected was as a Republican, but did the Libertarians help him? No, they wanted their own man with a Libertarian banner to win, and so we have Obama for a second term. Dr. Paul was a strict Constitutionalists. Did the Constitution Party help? No. And what of the Tea Party? Infiltrated by Neocons, they backed the socialist Romney. And what did Romney do? Divided the country with his designed aggression toward the failings of the left, ultimately alienating them forever, and Obama won.

We even think, from deep in the pit of our stomachs, to our disenchanted, disenfranchised intellect, that the voting machines were fixed, and those who have asked questions see that building seven was pre-wired to be demolished, that 134.5 billion in US bearer bonds were not forgeries, that there were 350 times the amount of put-options three days prior to 9-11 for both American and United airlines, and that our media will not get to the bottom of it. And all of this is in the craw of those who shout, “I’m awake!,” and it is eating at them like a cancer.

Here we are, the tentacles now coercing us into a self-defeating class war, and socialism slashes us like a cat-o-nine-tails, as our nation’s blood falls into a collective pool. In desperation we contemplate arresting and court-marshaling military leaders who led illegal and unconstitutional wars, or those who sell illegal arms and fire bombs to both sides of a conflict for profit. Arrest the bankers who drove illegal resource acquisitions, who conspired to enslave the world in debt, and now control our own government by fearful coercion, greed, lust, and all orchestrated by unrestrained lobbyists.

What to do? Perhaps the answer to this dilemma is not found in any of these overt primers, but might possibly be found inside. Yes, both the cause and the answer might be found in you. Wouldn’t that be amazing if you held the key to this dilemma all along? What a concept that would be?

Of course, if you are reading this, the following thoughts most likely will not be considered a reflection of you. You might think you belong to a select few, the enlightened 6 percent of the population perhaps, and that you, and others of like mind, are the one true hope for America, and humanity as well. Let’s see about that.

To put out a multiplicity of simultaneous fires that are surrounding us, consuming us from all sides and directions, you must go to the very root of the problem, and the root of that problem belongs to all of us, yours and mine. I know, this is a lot to swallow…

You see, tyrants die, but someone, or another conglomerate entity, always tries to pick up that baton. It is a universal law. If you don’t fix the underlying problem it can never be stopped. The cancer in this world is not the $67 trillion shadow banking system, but the reason it exists at all, you. It is the acclimation of wealth, and it moves from the bottom to the top. It is designed that way, and always has been in a capitalistic system. It is a system designed to stimulate both success and failure, and guarantees nether. It can also destroy, inadvertently, your will. If you have no will to resist, or no will to achieve, you are a slave to an invisible octopus. An octopus that will tap you on the shoulder until you twist your head right off your neck, looking for it. And then, there are some who actually revel in this system, and move to the very top of the food chain, seemingly unimpeded.

Why? How is that possible?

It is knowing how to play the game.

It isn’t just what you buy, but what you participate in that empowers this octopus. It is you who pays a ticket to a movie full of unconscionable violence and sex, and thus promoting it. It is you who buys music full of negativity and lack of fervor, and you wonder why your boy is selling drugs, and your daughter is giving away sex without a moral compass.
You are what you eat; you are what you think, and this is what America has become.

It is you who continually buy low quality processed foods with empty calories, and eat it with relish at the same time wondering at your failing health. You, who swallow fluoride, and breathe aluminum dust, who heats their foods in plastic pouches that leech out carcinogenetics by the infusion of a radiation-leaking microwave. As the bell rings, you pull your heated TV dinner of heavy-metals and toxic-tainted food to consume in front of a black box that spews both propaganda and radiation into your fat stomachs and blank minds… ouch! Yes, it is you who feeds your kids junk foods out of convenience, and sugar-laced synthetic cool-aide to wash it down, and you wonder why they have ADD and both boys and girls have sacks of fat that hang from breasts developing early from antibodies and growth hormones. And when you are through, you grind everything down the yawning mouths of garbage disposals, where it originally belonged. You have never heard of GMOs, and actually salivate like Pavlov’s dog when thinking of low quality carbohydrates covered in processed cheese.

It is you who choose not to know history, and so you can’t envision how it repeats itself, or how to stand up and be counted to make a change. You have never read the Constitution or the Bill Of Rights, and you even think you live in a democracy, and yet you can repeat the stats on every player in the NFL. You, who votes in a man without knowing his past, out of laziness, guilt, or racism, and you sleep quite well at night with a drug that flies like a lunar moth across your TV screen, with a final medicinal toke from a hidden bud of ganja. You, who no longer have the ability to read, to think an original thought, who creates by mimic, who views the world’s beauty and opportunity from a microcosm of myopia, justifications and ego. It is you who are responsible for every aliment that plagues you, every malady is an extension of the way you chose to live your life, outside the bounds of luck.

You leave responsibility for your undoing on the back of the government you have created to enslave you, and in the process, will eat the rationed peanuts they feed you, and with great relish, polish your collective collars with pride. It is you who have replaced morals and ethics, responsibility and accountability, with your own selfish concerns, who would not know truth or love if it bit you on your nose. It is you who have lost your sense of pride for a job well done, who hides without accountability in the face of dependability, who grovels and begs for crumbs in a world of plenty.

Those who choose to copy for affect, steal both ideas and ideals because they have spoiled, lethargic, indecisive minds who reason by default that being different is somehow better. And they continue to twist their hair into greasy knots, balance designer pantaloons on underwear-covered pubic bones, walk around with an evil eye and a punkish chip on stooped shoulders, while drooping their hooded heads for effect… for three generations.

You have no inkling of the universal law of cause and effect… So desperate for recognition, you will even accept negativity as payment, as even a look of disgust or disdain is enough to justify your existence. Minds full of darkness. Full of emptiness but for a vacuous inability to cope… Lost souls, lost in what can only be considered retarded minds, weak of nature and undisciplined, undernourished, uneducated, unproductive, mean-spirited, and infertile. Abused and ruined men, who did not know their fathers, unaccountable fathers on street corners and prison courtyards, pump iron and brag of sexual prowess without accountability, and women, who are so hungry for family they will open their legs to any man with hope. They are found on the dole without direction, untaught, and seemingly without the ability to reason a solution, they approach this world like rutting animals in a gilded cage. And all of it paid for with our tax dollars. All of it promoted for a vote.

Because you are irresponsible, you use abortion like birth control. You feel no moral obligation, only a compulsion to selfishly purge yourself, and since you have only public funding to justify your existence, the octopus seeks payment out of taxpayer dollar. No matter how moral or ethical is the taxpayer, he consents by what is referred to as voluntary servitude, and therefore just as responsible. Just as the 53 percent of so-called Christian women who voted Obama into office in 2008, they too are responsible for every child cut in half, ever skull crushed.

Nationally, there are about 1.3 million abortions each year, which works out to 3,562 abortions each day, according to the New England Journal of Medicine, and The New York Times.

And there are men who guide you along, and feed like sharks on the ciaos you create. They stand for noting but a bottom line, and it is a lucrative business.

It might seem to you that the octopus is laughing in its dark heart, but the octopus is nothing more than a reflection of yourself. And as you startle at the touch on your shoulder, you may someday realize that the distraction comes from your own weak and evil nature. You see, there are many ways to enslave, where mine is by a debt given to me by thieves, and that debt has stolen the American legacy I so wanted for my children. And as I see their shining faces in my mind’s eye, I have the strength to fight another day. Most likely to my dying day. But your legacy is the most profound and horrible of all, it is the slavery of your very spirit. And though it will mostly go unnoticed by you, as time’s linear progression winds down your existence like a clock with a broken spring, your life will be forgotten, like a bad dream in the light of day. And there will be no tears for you, not even from your own children.

Cause and effect is a universal law, and it stimulates the law of probability to indicate both ruin or boom, and men of vision will always transpire. It is indeed true that both you and I make this world what it is, and we are joined in our humanity. And though we share this common bond, we do not share a common destiny. It takes one bad apple to spoil many more, so too will its seed grow into a tree, and I will plant it. This duality must be fought in every generation, as it must forever, because everything of value is won, even our immortal soul.

Author’s note: One beautiful spring day, possibly a Sunday, my Dad and I played catch in the back yard. I was about six, I suppose. I missed another one, and started chasing it all the way to the fence. I think my father saw in me an embarrassment for the miss…

“Hey, A-hole!” he yelled loudly, and I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around.

“Are you an A-hole?” he said with a smile.

“NO!” I said emphatically.

He walked up to me, looked me in the eyes, and put his hand on my head. “Then why did you turn around?” he said.

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