Drowning False Heroes

Swim until you can't see land.

Swim until you can't see land.
Are you a man? Are you a bag of sand?

— Scott Hutchison

Soulless Perfection

In the eugenics-inspired science fiction film Gattaca, humanity has traded its “equality of opportunity” for a sterile calculus of perfection. From the moment of conception, life is no longer a beautiful mystery but a blueprint, scientifically engineered for optimal results. With a flick of a needle and a strand of DNA, parents order lab-made children. The randomness of nature, with its majestic chaos of seemingly spontaneous flaws and triumphs, is dismissed as an inefficiency to be eradicated. The birth of humans has been rendered a commodified product launch, and every infant comes with an expiration date stamped in the double helix of scientific determinism.

This brave new genome is an invisible cage. As soon as the blood dries on a newborn’s heel prick, their future is weighed, measured, and found desiring—or worthy. One’s worth is not measured by achievements through effort or self-improvement, or in how one treats their fellow humans, but by what their genetic sequence predicts they might do. Lifespan, heart disease, athletic potential, and even the capacity for ambition are divined from DNA.

In this society of precision, humanity is divided: the "valids," engineered to ascend, and the "in-valids," born of lust or accident in a moment of drunken pleasure, relegated to the dregs. Meritocracy is rendered absurd, not by woke college freaks indoctrinated at the shrines of communistic equity, but because destiny is decided at the cellular level. Biometrics are an obsession, the truest measure of a person’s worth. DNA is one’s passport, job application, and criminal record. Every ambition—the stubborn barnacles of individuality—is detached from its host under the certainty of genetic predictions. Why strive for anything when every possibility has already been decided?

A black market flourishes, where the desperate trade in borrowed skin cells and false identities, hoping to rewrite a destiny they never chose. Beneath the veneer of perfectly coiffed humans in a sanitized world lies the bittersweet truth—perfection breeds conformity, and conformity breeds despair. The imperfections that once made humans extraordinary—the serendipity of a genius born to humble origins, the unyielding strength and courage of the flawed, the hope and promise of a brighter future for those languishing in poverty and despair—have been replaced by a haunting uniformity.

For every engineered child who reaches their genetic zenith, there is a life unlived, ambitions demolished in the cold harshness of technocratic probability. In quiet moments, even genetically perfected humans wonder what it means to truly be human in a world where perfection has no soul.

In the film, as in our present age, the stars may be closer than ever, and our imaginations more piqued thanks to the “miracle” of hovering rocket ships, but humanity has never been further from itself and its natural gifts. Gattaca is the corporation where the “valids” venture for missions to colonize other planets (moons maybe?)—the perniciously fashionable apex of human achievement in many science fiction futures, and one being pushed and programmed by contrived false heroes like Elon Musk and his hilarious obsession with colonizing Mars while humans still can’t figure out how to coexist and thrive on a habitable planet. Solving the problems on this planet does not begin with the goal of escaping it.

The floppy tin foil-wrapped buggies and incongruous shadows, from the Kubrick-produced Apollo moon hoaxes filmed in the Nevada desert for calculated Cold War propaganda provide no hints for the exploration cultists that humans haven’t yet been to the moon. “We had the technology, and then we lost it.” The fiction and science fiction of our programmed history is no less amusing than the plot twists furnished by Hollywood.

Gattaca (1997)

Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange a walk-on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

— Roger Waters

Vincent, the protagonist of Gattaca, played by Ethan Hawke is an "invalid"—a natural-born individual without genetic enhancements. His brother Anton, a "valid," is genetically engineered for perfection and represents everything society deems superior. Despite genetic discrepancies, Vincent and Anton are still brothers. Brothers engage in healthy competition to test one another, push themselves, make each other stronger, and build on that rare bond of brotherhood.

In the film, they play an endurance ocean swim game, a test that takes them far from the safety of the shore. They swim until they can’t see land. The first to quit and swim back is the loser. It’s a silent contest of strength and willpower, a benchmark of who is truly superior.

Vincent grew up admiring Anton, because of what he represented genetically—the idea that perfection was real, that a person could be flawless by design. Until one day he learned that the rules of this world of scientific determinism were flawed. He found a way to beat their system.

His brother, his hero, wasn’t who he thought he was.

Sound familiar?

Furnished Heroes

In a recent piece that went semi-viral (for Substack), someone who goes by the moniker Being Nobody, Going Nowhere, writing for their Substack Be your own doctor, unleashes their healthy controlled rage on one of the many astroturfed and phony heroes of recent years. Their reasoning is sound, and their frustration is palpable and finally resonating with a wider audience.

Fuck You, Dr. Robert Malone !!!

The post elicits both a welcome reminder of why egomaniacal manufactured heroes will always disappoint those who launch them to an unworthy status, believing them to be someone they never were, but also how the clues of their fraudulent status were there from the beginning for those willing to examine them closely and be honest with themselves.

The hope of a new hero arriving to shoulder the burden of a movement is common these days, but hope can be a dangerous drug, blinding individuals to those valuable clues. Outsourcing leadership of a non-existent movement to a platoon of newly-arrived competing egos feeding off the desperation of the awakened masses is done by offering them a greater $hare of their attention labor.

Peter McCullough didn’t arrive out of nowhere as a beacon of courage and hope for the “medical freedom movement.” He may have initially opened some windows so people could take a peek and ask questions in their moments of desperation, but he quickly morphed into what they all do—a self-serving man seeking riches. His Wellness Company was instantly spawned with VC funding and has been running fear porn ads on all the Con Inc. alternative (controlled op) news sites to shill their unnecessary overpriced vitamins.

EMERGENCY ALERT—BIRD FLU DETECTED IN HUMANS! BUY THESE ESSENTIAL VITAMINS NOW AND SAVE YOUR FAMILY!!

In case you’re still confused as to why that’s one of their many hilarious headlines…just as there was no covid virus, there is no bird flu.

Robert Malone didn’t end up on Substack with a purple checkmark because of his gifts as an original thinker or writer. He was pushed into the spotlight inorganically through a popular podcast hosted by Brett Weinstein, brother of Eric Weinstein, manager of the main equity fund of Pay Pal mafia Billionaire Peter Thiel, founder of Palantir (with extensive ties to DOD and Intelligence agencies) who will soon run the American Empire’s War Department for Israel. This should have been the first clue that no authentic heroes were going to appear on Brett Weinstein’s podcast. This photo could have also provided an earlier clue…

That Malone didn’t tell viewers he was injured by the vaccines he took two months earlier, potentially warning millions of innocents to stay away from them was another obvious clue that Malone was no hero. A true hero would have sounded the alarm in the first minute of the damn podcast unless he later lied about that to oil his brand. Throw in DOD connections, a history of government contracts, and a horse farm near CIA headquarters, followed by petty lawsuits against those who dare question him, and the breadcrumbs quickly become a heaping loaf of asshole bread.

Sage Hana has been warning about following these false heroes (“don’t play hero ball”) for two years, including Malone, Weinstein, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., name your astroturfed hero and Sage has slayed them with simple, common sense.

Pacification and Control

Do you ever wonder why all of your Saviors are multi-millionaires and multi-billionaires?

Do you think maybe they are not only fully in bed with all the Global Operations, hence how they get their slice of the pie, but they are in place to pacify you and control you?

Meet the new billionaire “heroes” of the Orange Messiah administration, chosen from Tel Aviv, including Charles Kushner who was convicted of money laundering, and tax fraud, and who paid a prostitute to get extortion material on his brother-in-law. For all the political kayfabe fans, they threw in the wife of the WWE founder to run….the Rockefeller education scam.

As for Robert Malone, I took a different road from anger and rage since it was clear to me that so many others couldn’t see him for the fraud he was and I wasn’t going to wake them up by calling them retards, as much as I wanted to. We all have to arrive at the truth by our own initiative, though a nudge to others never hurts.

There’s nothing cleaner or more fun than a little satire to disrobe the false heroes. (paywall removed)

Hero Worship

In antiquity, heroes emerged from myths—narratives crafted to explain cosmic truths or moral principles. Figures like Hercules symbolized strength forged through adversity, while Odysseus epitomized cunning and resilience. Mythic heroes functioned as larger-than-life archetypes, embodying virtues or flaws meant to convey lessons and reflect the human experience, emphasizing a society's values and sanctifying future aspirations of that society Nothing has changed in that regard for our current age, though the process is now completely artificial and socially engineered.

In the modern era, elevating heroes has been co-opted by corporations, venture capitalists, and state interests for the controlling powers that rule above them all. Unlike organic heroes of the past, contemporary figures are curated to serve political, economic, or ideological agendas. These manufactured heroes reflect the priorities of their promoters rather than genuine public needs.

From vapid compromised (blackmailed Satanists) celebrities willing to do, say, wear, or represent the powers that permit their rise to stardom, to the new robber barons of corporate icons who exemplify the soulless perfection of the “valid” class in Gattaca, there are no authentic heroes in the popular consciousness for a reason. The gates of power are well-kept, and nobody who will succeed in overturning the status quo is permitted through them.

The proliferation of manufactured heroes is a feature of our world. Without shared mythos, society becomes fragmented and divided, susceptible to artificial, astroturfed narratives. They are now crafted to pacify as Sage Hana observed, but also distract, or guide public sentiment away from truth, and therefore knowledge and power, leaving people disconnected from authentic, unifying ideals.

True heroes are selfless, courageous, empathetic figures. They challenge, inspire, and elevate society, and most importantly they are reluctant to assume that role—but today they are never permitted major platforms. Manufactured heroes are astroturfed into public consciousness, pushed by the deceptive invisible algorithms to maintain complacency and conformity, pretending to offer a glimpse of a world where people believe they are getting the full picture.

This psychological illusion sustains cultural inertia, feeding the masses what they need in yearning for genuine, transformational figures while keeping true change at bay.

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We Don’t Need Another Hero

In a reply to a reader’s comment on the Malone post,

Be your own doctor

writes the following:

I’ll leave the mass formation hogwash to Jon Rappoport and Peter Breggin who already closed this door for good two years ago. As for Hollywood Rogan, he is paid $200 million by Spotify—with connections to Thiel’s founder’s fund and the intelligence community. Leather Apron Club (YouTube) exposed this fraud by showing that 42% of his political guests (for some “mysterious” reason that only Kanye knows) are jewish, and 100% are chosen to keep the masses only peeking behind a portion of their curtains, but mostly chasing false leads.

Last week he had on Mike Benz, a so-called government censorship “expert” and while he names the CIA, State Department, and DOD, he never names those responsible behind the scenes. Glowie Benz came out of nowhere last year, thrust into the spotlight by Elon’s highly suspicious algos, and like all false heroes he is paid to keep people hopeful, but misinformed. One is as likely to get political truths from a Joe Rogan podcast episode as they are to not fall asleep during a Lex Fridman podcast episode—another chosen monotone voice with no personality or critical thinking skills magically thrust through the digital afterburners to lead the masses nowhere.

There is also no current mass formation of anything, there are only divisions created for the benefit of those in power. People are kept fearfully bogged down in ideological echo chambers, reinforced by algorithmic manipulation and the comfort of being part of a herd. Cowardly assimilation has always been rewarded even when information was analog and as far back as Monarchs and the clergy held the whips of conformity. Courageous individual critical thinking and skepticism have always been punished. The assimilated masses have always been weaponized. Their wrath and anger aimed at the skeptics to dissuade anyone from leaving their borg.

But times move on - we need new heroes now…

No. No, we don’t.

This is how we end up on the same hamster wheel over and over again.

We need critical thinking, and courage at the individual level to reject all heroes the second they’re pushed on the scene. It’s time we slay the phony heroes for good.

After all, who truly needs heroes or the idea of heroes?

Weaker and underdeveloped people?

Heroes are for children and fantasists, for damsels in distress and cartoonish villains to face off against in one last battle royale while slovenly psycho-socially arrested bugmen watch from dark Cineplex theaters pumping out 100,000 Watts of pure thumping Dolby power so they can rub their fat faces with greasy buttered flavored oil they lace with beta carotene to give a yellow “buttery” look.

Heroes are porcelain avatars and exist only to confirm our need to outsource courage. They’re the dopamine hit we crave when reality’s ugly drudgery creeps too close—our existential DoorDash for deferment and escapism. Instead of facing the mirror and seeing ourselves as we are—confused, conflicted, endlessly scrolling for some semblance of meaning—we project our better selves onto artificial plants and cheer them on as if they share the same values and travel by the same moral compass. It’s pathetic theater for a species allergic to accountability and action.

The provision of heroes by those in power has always been one of their more effective tools for keeping the masses roosting in those blue-pilled Matrix pods of pink goo, alive but asleep. Alive but running around a construct of a reality created for them, with the enthusiastic endorsement of those “followers” beckoning their herd mentality to just go with it. Go with the Robert Malones and the Peter McCulloughs, and all of the astroturfed figures cashing in on their new hero status within a movement that is destined to disappoint and conform with the status quo that all the hero worshippers believed they were fighting against.

Albert Pike, 33rd-degree Freemason and head of the Southern Jurisdiction of the Scottish Rite said it outright: "When the people need a hero, we shall furnish them." And so they do, with clockwork precision. Every hero you've ever been taught to admire—from pampered Prime Ministers to pompous Presidents, to polished generals, to smiling astroturfed activists—is a fabricated icon, built and propped up by PR schemes and propaganda campaigns. Today, the system has only gotten more efficient, its machinations more covert and scheming, using algorithmic kabuki to shove their chosen champions into the spotlight, ensuring that the ‘new’ heroes you think you chose, are chosen for you.

A good rule of thumb for today’s digital heroes: if they come out of nowhere and seem to be saying all the right things at all the right times, and are being pushed by the paid cognitive proxies of the Alternative Media Industrial Complex (AMIC - AM I A CLOWN?)—the new establishment mouthpieces wrapped in “alternative” branding to keep the masses believing in heroes provisioning access to something resembling the truth—you’re being conned.

The mob racing toward them is not a good indicator of authenticity or truth.

It’s a sign that the grift is afoot because the dummies are falling for it.

Elon Musk has already been sufficiently exposed by Greg Reese and others as a grifter, a frontman for the transhuman eugenics agenda. He now controls the levers on one of the largest digital attention networks where millions of gullible people believe “free speech” has been reintroduced. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Elon, X, and the Epitome of a Front Man

A UFC fighter from Arkansas is more intelligent than 100% of the slaves slobbering over Elon — the guy who wants to chip their brains. A little common sense goes a long way in figuring out why Billionaire “heroes” are put where they are by those in power.

His microchips are the mark of the beast. That’s something the anti-Christ will usher in. Now he’s making these robots to take over humanity. The reason he makes electric cars is so he can shut your damn car off if you do something wrong. It’s about control.…you can’t do that with a 1977 Ford Pickup truck buddy. My 73’ will run one of those Teslas off the road and crush it like a can of coke, okay? I’m telling you those Teslas are pieces of shit, just like he is.

— Bryce Mitchell

Furnishing heroes is nothing new.

Churchill was controlled by the Rothschild family and its Zionist proxies. A man called Ben Cohen and a group called The Focus were behind his horrific decisions around wartime policies, including the destruction of German cities and massacre of hundreds of thousands of German civilians, refusal to make peace, and dragging the United States into the sanguinary conflict costing tens of millions of lives after 1940. Nobody is more responsible for the destruction of Western Europe and bankrupting the British empire than this fat blabbering alcoholic gambling addict who lived lavishly in a manor house with five servants on an MP’s pittance salary and had his debts serviced by his Rothschild masters. This guy was the farthest thing from a hero any nation or people could want. (More on him in another collaboration with Notes From The Past Substack coming soon.)

Eisenhower was a war criminal who carried out the Morgenthau Plan, starving a million German POWs to death in 1945 and 1946—after they’d surrendered. Many of them were teenagers.

The Morgenthau Plan

Franklin D. Roosevelt seized Americans' gold in 1933, criminalizing private ownership to prop up the dollar. He used the justification of national emergencies to serve four terms, bypassing the two-term precedent set by George Washington and observed by every prior officeholder. Despite a year of warnings, he ignored intelligence about Pearl Harbor, allowing the attack to justify U.S. entry into World War II. Roosevelt was fond of Stalin, allying with him despite Stalin's murder of ten million Russians through famine and extermination before the war even started. He also gave the green light for Morgenthau’s plan and the genocide of Germans, though Truman oversaw it after FDR passed on…to hell.

Gandhi supported the British Empire early on, recruiting Indians for World War I while opposing full independence. He controlled significant funds for his movements and faced accusations of mismanagement and corruption. He supported the Hindu caste system. His celibacy “experiments” involved sleeping naked with underage girls, including his teenage grandniece, Manu. He ignored poverty and famine, and he manipulated followers with political fasts. In South Africa, Gandhi was racist toward Africans, calling them "kaffirs" and arguing Indians were superior.

Mother Theresa took a good licking when Christopher Hitchens decided to peek behind her curtains and find a public relations fraud more concerned with laundering money for her charity while glorifying “God’s work” through the suffering of others by refusing them rudimentary medical care.

Martin Luther King was a serial philanderer with the title of Dr. garnered through plagiarism. He is celebrated as a heroic figure of the civil rights movement today rather than other figures. The more honest Malcolm X is often maligned for calling out jews and white liberals as the main controllers of back Americans, so no hero worship for him.

I could go on for a dozen posts on all the phony heroes of history.

Albert Pike’s Russian Doll

Imagine each of these contemporary furnished heroes as planted distractions meant to deceive and disarm our skeptic radars, including “EMERGENCY ALERT!! Alex Jones” amplified to serve as jamming systems so we betray our acute sensory bullshit detectors. Yes, that Alex Jones, who has become (sometime in the past five years, though maybe the past decade) a complete parody of himself.

Here’s how I know Alex Jones is no “threat to the system” apart from everything I’ve seen of him the past few years, and especially the past year since he was permitted back on Twitter to help broadcast the Trump kayfabe election theater with all those money-grubbing threats of “the deep state, is shutting us down” and “we were bought by the Onion.”

First off, they would have killed him a long time ago.

More importantly, can you imagine what they’d be putting inside those Infowars supplements if Alex Jones was a threat? Ergo if one believed he was a “threat to the system” and true opposition, why would they order his supplements and ingest them?

There are different herds people assimilate to, and all of them require dispensing with critical thinking skills—we are all guilty of this, throughout all our lives. Jones’ sad repeated EMERGENCY ALERT NUCLEAR WAR IMMINENT! broadcasts on Xitter the past month now get half a million live viewers daily, and it’s hard not to feel sorry for every one of them. This is some kind of trauma-based mind control.

As someone who was a fan for many years, and found his repertoire entertaining and extremely useful a decade ago and earlier, I can tell you for every instance “Alex Jones was right!” he’s been wrong a thousand more. As Lenin said, "To control the opposition, you must lead the opposition.”

He’s a fine stepping stone for early initiates, but at some point, he must be abandoned. No hero would come from a family of Freemasons with substantial oil and land holdings in Texas. And even if he wasn’t a Freemason himself, no hero would scare the hell out of the public daily to sell t-shirts and vitamins while bootlicking for puppet billionaires like Trump and Musk.

Every limited hangout is a melange of barely ingestible crumbs of truth provisioned for the “useless eaters” to feast on, or a distraction to lead the curious masses away from the true culprits of evil. If the whole truth of a subject were the tiniest Russian doll buried within other Russian dolls, Russell Brand and Joe Rogan and every manufactured hero who suddenly “appears out of nowhere” would constitute the exterior shell, the largest doll.

The “alternative” new corporate cognitive proxies (most of them funded by the same corporate interests who fund old news media, or by big tech including the Pay Pal mafia) only exist to keep the masses from ever looking to open the Russian doll. With a dozen dolls embedded within each other before you arrive at the truth, the closest anyone gets is maybe a Max Igan, Greg Reese, James Corbett, Whitney Webb, Jon Rappoport, or David Icke, barely three or four dolls deep. While the tiniest Russian dolls of our history are accessible on the Internet Archive (for now), they were meant to be buried in books that are mysteriously, “no longer in print.”

There are no “hero” dolls in the lot to be found, and if anyone out there embodies the last Russian doll, and ever managed to get a platform or voice, their life would be in danger.

And maybe the final doll metaphorically representing ‘truth’ would never be embodied by a human but exists as a process, an ongoing search for the curious mind, and more likely resembles a spiritual journey of discovery that lasts a lifetime. Perhaps it includes helping others to break free of the hero mindset, and to venture out on their own spiritual journey.

When Vincent surpassed Anton in the film Gattaca, swimming farther than his brother dared, it wasn't triumph that he felt. It was the epiphany of shedding an illusion that comes when you no longer need the hero you spent your life following. In that cold ocean, Vincent realized he wasn't proving anything to Anton anymore—he was finally leaving his hero behind.

I’ve endeavored to do likewise Good Citizens with the heroes who have been thrust upon my mind since birth—fabrications designed to pave a deterministic path, leaving me blind to the potential achievements that require no heroes by my side. I’ve stopped outsourcing any hopes and aspirations to polished, pampered, narcissistic, corrupted figures who only exist to keep me tethered to shore.

I’ve left them at the shoreline where they belong, dipped my toes in the ocean sometime over the past few years, and began swimming until I can’t see land.

I’ll fight the tide and the demons, and if any of their false heroes appear telling me as voices or apparitions “I got it from here” I’ll drown that motherfucker and all their false hopes right where they appear. Then I’ll keep swimming.

And I’ll never save anything for the return.

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Dip a toe in the ocean, oh how it hardens and it numbs
The rest of me is a version of man built to collapse in crumbs
And if I hadn't come now to the coast to disappear
I may have died in a landslide of rocks and hopes and fears

So swim until you can't see land
Swim until you can't see land
Swim until you can't see land
Are you a man? Are you a bag of sand?

Dip a toe in the ocean

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