SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 157

SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 157
WL-SBT-DATFILE: CH-157-0528.886
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995 CONTINUING
BLOG SUBTITLE #4:
“COVERT DOOMSDAY PLOT FAILED”
COPYRIGHT, BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, MWM/MWM

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

My mom observed a powerful piece of truth and reality that appeared to be surrounding her only son, me, and she was not only perfectly accurate, but not even I at those times in the distant past, adolescence basically, really understood or fully comprehended the gravity and power of what was behind this item that she observed, and yes folks, it was discussed before once or twice on blogs from 3-6 years ago somewhere. She told me that no one in authority for some odd reason would ever “follow through” with me,m NOT ON ANYTHING, NOT EVER, NOT ONCE. A lot of days have passed me by since then, and these words of hers hold totally factual and true, right up to this freaking second. So why? Well, this has had the greatest philosophers flabbergasted and fixed to their chairs of life with unmeasurable history of humankind civilization. I am merely a part of their fascination in cosmic collective truth, that is to say that my situation of this great and humongous “Y” on this issue brought up right now on this blog; is still the all encompassing knowledge that gifted thinkers forever have seriously pondered their lifetimes upon, this being of course, be it any topic or question or wonderment, YYYYYYYYY? It therefore must be the true 8th dimension, as before the LAWTRON that have managed to escape a previously existing closed curve infinity, and made up this one of which soul is merely a counterpart in either the Astral World, or dreamed further down and away into the 5th dimensional hyperspace. Without getting so philosophically technical about bullshit here folks, let me try and reword and simplify crap. My mom was a fairly average or normal human being. Like any of us, she had her quirky shit, who doesn't? Anyone out here that says they do not, are liars, it is just that John Henningsen Colorado simple, 1969 or no 1969, BRRRR!!!!! Still, like any concerned parent would be, with any of their children, be it an only or one out of a dozen, she observed this nightmare around me, and way back then, and it drove her nuts, and well it should have, looking back on this as a fully grown man now, seeing it through the eyes of a parent concerned for a child.

Lots of peeps out here think they know a lot about me, and have made quite dangerous assessments and value judgments, in so much as it is not me that you judge, but the most incredible family line in history, and a line where one member in every generation, inherits a Morgan Collins Lottery, straight from the great Nicholas Blair, Apollo-Lucifer, The Lasmist Brigger Leviathan Cult, and the great sixties daytime television serial that many remember to this day called, “Dark Shadows”.

The twelve elevators of the great sixth dimension have a lot to do with all of this, and there is no time now to draw any ODF these necessary correlations, so we will move this right along within an acceptable time frame and blogging length. The connection of reality and fantasy, has to do more with a basic geometric truth, than anything else, despite any or all of my readers wanting to holler out, BULLSHIT at 14 bells of sound pressure level, 140 decibels, Alexander Graham. Our world is about 8,000 miles through, if at any point on its surgface, you would travel down into the ground in a straight line all the way out the other side, or said in geometric language, 8,000 miles in diameter. Around and beyond this sphere, is a hypersphere. This is known as the known universe. Many have estimated the size and dimensions of this hypersphere, and have not yet realized that just as horizons work here on the sphere we call Planet Earth, so also the surrounding hypersphere would operate in a similar manner. Redshift and light dropping off out into nothingness, is what you see if looking through the powerful Hubble Telescope, at roughly estimated distances at all points from the Earth, of fifteen billion light years, there are roughly six trillion miles in a light year, so in miles, the distance rounds off around 6,000,000,000,000 times 15,000,000,000, so we multiply the 15 and the 6 and add the total amount of zeros, and then we arrive at approximately the figure of 90,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 miles, where beyond us here on Earth, we see the illusion of the beginning of time and space. This is merely a gigantic horizon, just as the sea and sky vanish away when gazing outward from a summer's beach. The word MILE is English, as over on the European Continent, we use the meter and the 1000 meter measurement or the kilo-meter. Nearly 100 sextillion miles around is no small hypersphere, yet the entire thing is smaller than the tiniest particle that exists in an upline world beyond this one. This was all information that I gave to the world in my 1994 book called, “The Permission Barrier”. Peeps are all so dumbed down, that computer spell-checkers do not recognize the word that means mathematically, one times ten to the exponent power of twenty-one. In fact, all though we all hear this expression, DUMBED-DOWN, quite frequently, spell-checker does not recognize that either. So is anybody smarter than a fifth grader besides the All Mighty Donald J-Harvard Trump, and his All Mighty Wolf Network, as it did not take me all that long to unravel how they all came to know so much about my life, Don, you sicko. There are 5,280 feet to the MI. This is a totally accepted abbreviation, and if Microsoft Narrator speaks the name of my first posted song of the two that are up there, it does not pronounce it as the word “MY” should be pronounced, try it, do not ever take me at my word, I would not respect you in the morning if you did, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Doing the math to the reality of this planet and the hypersphere around it, you all may thought it was a big joke last year, two early spring's ago in TWO MAROLA TEN, with the NEW SHOE thing, and this is how my U-TUBE NOOSHOO was jokingly done. Naturally, King Nebuchadnezzar was the King of a totally different Babylon than the one now exiting in Long Island in the United States, but that too, is part of the HA-HA-FUNNY. If you don't laugh sometimes, what's left but freaking Crocodile tears, peeps, you know? After marching along for two nonillion feet, there would most definitely be quite a need for a lot of NEW SHOES. Vigintillion, nonillion, none of these numbers are known about at all, what DO THEY teach in school anymore, YO? I saw the Judge Judy Show a few days back, relaxing after unpacking a few boxes, and you all know what I mean here? Judy, give it up, we know we are living in a world of idiots and morons, but if we were not, I could have gotten myself out of HELL a ling time ago. As for how many gates there are around the Great City of David, the Biblical answer of twelve, matches one for all of the 6th dimensional elevators on the Eckankar Mental Plane, this great religion out in Minnesota somewhere, is another unrecognized Spell-Checker entity, shameful, absolutely freaking ass shameful. And then there is Breyers Ice Cream, even our US President, until sometime in 2011, wow peeps, so just where is Rose Shakespeare when you really freaking need her? By the weay the great City of David is translated on the Astral Plane, where it exists and interacts on, as Sahasra Dal Kanwal. Its true secret meaning unknown to even the greatest masters living in the mortal and waking world, is “CITY OF THE GREAT SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE”. If any truth has exited anywhere since the year 79 AD, this is what is being printed right now peeps. So how many ME's are really floating around here, Judge Judy, I left the last one on a rooftop in late 1989, at #1102 Robin Hill Apartments, in Voorhees Township in New Jersey, USAESMWG.

Confessional booths are great for the Catholics, I totally freaking believe in their usage. Many out here know precisely how my late cousin Heinz Gottwald would have chimed in here about this, but that is irrelevant to the issue at hand, so screw it. Some confessions are done on computer keyboards, so chalk this one up as one of the top ones ever made. The few Einstein's out here know it all ready, but still, you don';t know butter-bean-boxing about me, so don't get punched in the face with your tongue sticking out, or you and Mister O'Grady are gonna' be talking kind of strangely for a while. Spell-Checker does not recognize a great Irish name like this either, is this real, or this this broken glass and Memorex, PH? Oh the mother trucking days of the great Tony Zenun and Haddonwood Swim and Health Club of Gerard Styles. Where are you when I need you old pal of 1981, Mayor McGrocken? Did I say spell-checker is on a roll? Well, sense enough to come out of a storm kicks in a little bit at least, as McGovern is recognized, so is Pres-16? Lincoln or no Lincoln, lots of history never makes it into the books, and no, I cannot share with you, secrets I know from Astral Travel, sorry, but think of me as just one of her greatest fans. I am merely hoping for a clever song in an upcoming project that tells me and only me, just what this strobing light really is doing to our lives. If you do not know, believe me, Mom does! Finishing out my point and the real reason for this blog, folks, my confession is that I did everything that I could, to bring your wonderful day into reality, Doctor Huntington Curse. EVERYTHING. It was timed perfectly. Rosemary, I gave it all I could, but even I have limited power. She seems to have fixed it so as not to be so east for me to wake up her sleeping memories of eternity. If it had worked out, the world would now be over. None of this would be here, and this blog would be a 'nonsecuator'. Yes it is 'misspelled', and SC is as meaningless as Sarah Callio, and those rotten never ending initials. What did happen, was the program of the 'MOGOSP' went into a powerful overdrive mode, and made everything that I tried to do, totally screw up. Some major things are obvious, and Comcast Cable Company has to be aware of it. Still, my name is not LOBO, Ben Stone, Robin Hill, Robin Internet, and there is no 'falling off chairs'. Still, this is between me and COMCAST, as they know what is being said here, and it is only important that THEY in fact do know it. Sorry, keep searching, everybody, about everybody; it indeed is a fascinating world. Still, I cannot offer information that is not obtained through acceptable sources in the year of 2011. This works in many ways, and many nasty peeps in rude and vulgar ways, made this abundantly ass clear to me, while all of this was transpiring in recent real time. After my transfer in June, I will do what the great Herman Munster taught me, ice cream sundae's all notwithstanding, YO, and just “keep my whittle mouth SHUT”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy landing, NASA.

END TWANSMISSION SILWEE WABBIT FWUDD, WHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!