Trump’s Fever Dream – Chapter 10 – A Bitter Cheese

12:55 minute reading by Ken Sheetz that asks: What if the 1/6/21 insurrection had succeeded?*

Meanwhile, when we last visited the alternate Trump universe, one timeline away… Trump’s harebrained insurrection succeeded in a wonky as hell overthrow of the rightful US government. This sadly happened through the sheer blind luck of Pelosi and Pence both taking wrong turns on the run on January 6th, ending in both being taken hostage by the rag tag white supremacist led insurrectionists.

A gruesome house to house battle, dubbed The Blue Civil War, erupted to put the rightful President Biden into the Oval office, has so far cost 256,234 American lives.

Looking to raise quick cash for a boost in the polls to bless his proposed launch tactical nukes on Blue states, Trump enlists the help of a Marjorie Taylor Greene for crowd funder to raise $5 billion to knock out her mythical Jewish space laser. We now join…

TRUMP’S FEVER DREAM – CHAPTER 10 – A BITTER CHEESE

Trump shows General Marjorie Greene Taylor, the new Speaker of the House, to the paneled door of the oval office saying, “Much as I love you, Margie, I don’t want to see your face again until you have the $5 billion!” Before Taylor can complain, Trump slams the door in her face.

Nestled in the blue yellow sofa, My Pillow Guy, Mike Lindell, the newly minted Secretary of Defense and Pillow Production Czar, reports to Trump on progress in Blue Civil War. He speaks fast, like he’s ripping off a band-aid, “Sadly, we’ve lost Illinois to the Sleepy Joe forces, sir.”

“What about Wisconsin?” demands Trump.

“The Battle of George Floydland was — ”

“George Floydland?!” shouts Trump.

“F.K.A. Kenosha Wisconsin, sir,” nervously answers Secretary Lindell. “Confusing, I know, because Minnesota is where Floyd was –“

“Do I look confused?” says Trump getting up in Lindell’s dumb as dirt puss.

“Of course not, sir!”

“I know where that counterfeit passing snake Floyd was choked out! Spades wanna name part of Wisconsin after a dead loser Minnesotan that’s their fucking funeral. Bigger question: How did that useless cheese head Johnson blow the 2-1 military advantage I gave him?” says Trump firmly pushing the button on his resolute desk to call for a Diet Coke.

“You’re in luck , sir! My film team from ABSOLUTE PROOF has whipped up a new doc about it and it’s already up on Trump TV!” says Lindell, doing a little victory dance.

Robert, Trump’s Black body servant, enters at a run, delivers Trump’s Diet Coke. Robert avoids making any eye contact with the hand waving Lindell.

“You put a fucking documentary about my brave Trumptopia troops losing to Obama on my TV station without my OK?” barks Trump.

Robert stumbles as he quickly exits to avoid Trump tantrum fallout.

Lindell fumbles with the big screen remote. He nervously says, “Sir, ahem, CNN and MSNBC have their version of the story coming out on the Battle of George Floydland premiering tonight. I had to move fast so that you’re the first one to tell the story. You know to slant it your way, of course. Ha ha. Knew you’d OK that since you are the genius chosen one after all!”

“Secretary Lindell… I saw on Fox News that you were broke and homeless. So how’d you afford making a movie with a 24 hour time –”

“Look, Donnie boy, I know you still watch Fox, because you’re personally keeping an eye on the enemy. But that junk will rot your –“

“Fair warning, I don’t like this rushed as fuck doc you’re with Pelosi, executed on Trump TV LIVE tomorrow at dawn!” barks Trump, cleaning a speck of lint off his banana Republic uniform.

Wiping sweat from his brow Lindell hits play and he says, “Narrated it myself.”

“Shut the fuck up and let me watch!” grouses Trump, already annoyed by the opening title.

A Bitter Cheese – Defeat in George Floydland (F.K.A. Kenosha, Wisconsin)

Documentary style footage plays as Lindell ham-narrates:

House to house combat raged for weeks in America’s dairy state. Troops led by former president Barrack Obama are on the march south from the Biden won city of Milwaukee.

Trumptopia’s Supreme Commander, aside from President Trump, Don Jr., confers beneath the fire scorched Kenosha Brat Stop sign with General/Senator Johnson, who for some dumb reason demands both titles as General Senator — Seriously, if this titty bar loving cheese dick slept better he’d have had a much clearer head for the battle he was about to lose for our heroic leader Donald the Chosen One Trump, all powerful President of Trumptopia FKA the USA.

For a dreamy night’s sleep visit MyPillowGuy.com!

“Fuck’s sake! Is this an My Pillow infomercial or God damn news story?” comments Trump imperiously.

Lindell hits pause. “Sir, we’ll edit my little pillow plug out ASAP. Let’s go on, sir. There’s some things in here you’re going to want to see firsthand,” Lindell quickly hits play again.

Lindell’s narration continues: And so, because many in the US Armed Forces are sitting out the Blue Civil War out, the hand to hand civilian combat showdown of the 21st century was at hand.

Lindell hits “pause” on the remote and says proudly, “Like the poetic thing I did with the hands? Classy huh?”

Trump just glares at the My Pillow putz who quickly hits the “play” button in response.

First to fall were the obese of both the red and blue civilian troops, causing some smart asses on the rogue app Twitter to dub this The Battle of the Second Battle of the Bulge. Although the bloodiest civil war since the Civil War of Lincoln’s Day, it has proven to be a chance to lower our obesity health index for the first time in 50 years.

The game was afoot. The sneaky Black former failed President versus our heroic great white Hope’s son of our stable genius president Donald John Trump, Don Jr., was accompanied by his operatic battle crier Colonel Guilfoyle .

Both of them clad in golden armor, astride the white stallions recalled the great days of Roman rule. All looks promising as General Senator Ron Johnson joins the Trumptopian troops in his cheddar cheese colored armored tank to draw final battle plans.

“General Johnson.” says Don Jr imperiously while Johnson lifts open the hatch on his tank.

“With all due respect that’s General/Senator Ron Johnson, Junior!”

“Oh, get off it, Ron. We’re about to go into battle. Let’s keep it short shall we?” grouses Guilfoyle.

“I outrank you and outgun you, little missy,” says Johnson laughing as his tank turret playfully takes aim at her and Don Jr.

Don Jr. fast draws his pearl handled pistol and blows the smile from Johnson’s face along with his head.

The cameraman shouts off-screen, “Holy fuck!”

Don Jr. smiles for the camera, “Command is all about respect. And –“

“Donnie! Come on you wuss! We gotta battle to win!” shouts Guilfoye.

“Later, fans. After Kimberly and I kick some Kenyan BLM ass! Yee ha!” shouts Don Jr. as he rears up his stallion and follows Guilfoyle. The two look amazing charging into battle until…

BOOM! The duo vanish in a massive explosion.

“Stop! Don Jr. is dead?” shouts Trump.

Lindell hits pause and says consolingly, “Along with Colnel Guilfoyle and most of our brave Wisconsin Trumptopia troops. Sorry for your loss, sir”

“My son was a damn fool not using Johnson cheesy tank. But, hey, I’ll put on a show of grief. Should inspire some donors,” says Trump.

Lindell looks for any sign of grief from the stone faced Trump and then says, “Brilliant as always, sir! Now, if you don’t mind, I’m on Fox in five minutes to discuss the film.”

“No. I’ll take the Fox interview myself.”

“It’s really no trouble, sir,” offers Lindell, clutching one of his crappy pillows for security.

“I said I will take the interview. No one’s lost more in this battle than me. My firstborn.” says Trump with a fake sniffle.

“But may I start the Fox interview and turn it over to you? Makes you more sympathetic.” says Lindell hopefully,

“Hmm. We can do that. But make it quick.”

“Great. Follow me. I’ve got the Fox setup in my office.” says Lindell, pointing the way with a gracious bow.

“No. This interview will be done from here in the oval,” demands Trump

“But it’s all set up in my office and there’s not time to — Of course. Of course.” Lindell barks into his phone. “Get the Fox crew over to the oval.”

A short time later Trump listens as Secretary Lindell makes the intro to the Fox cameras.

“Our Donald may have lost a son… but he still has all of you fine citizens of Trumptopia as his children. My fellow My Pillow fans, I give you the chosen one, our true President, Donald John Trump,” says Lindell with sweep of his hand that messes up Trump’s hair. Everyone holds their breath for Trump’s furious reaction. But Trump does not notice his hair is askew, revealing a bald pate as he speaks to the camera:

My fellow, Trumptopians, in a vicious sneak attack, Blue forces led by the evil Barack Obama, murdered my… my brave boy Don Jr. in cold blood. This is personal now! Therefore, Obama the puppet master and his puppet Biden have left me no choice but to order, herewith, a tactical nuclear strike on George Floydland, FKA Kenosha Wisconsin.

I know it seems horrible as such an attack will kill red and blue soldiers and civilians alike. But the Pentagon estimates this ultimate shock and awe attack will end the Blue Civil War years ahead of conventional hand to hand fighting. Thus saving millions of American lives at the sacrifice of approximately half a million Wisconsinites.

Fear not! To reduce civilian casualties I am hereby grant the next 30 minutes to depart the George Floydland’s blast zone.

Please take your most precious possessions as Kenosha will be radioactive and uninhabitable for the next 35 years. Good news that’s half the normal length of radioactivity contamination thanks to our brilliant tactical nukes granted to us by our beloved friend and ally Kim Jung Un. Good night and God Bless Trumptopia.

Fox News cuts to pandemonium on the streets as forces of the left and right fight their way out of Kenosha. It’s a blood bath.

The camera lights go off and Trump smiles proudly at the stunned camera crew and a speechless Secretary Lindell.

“How was I?” asks Trump calmly.

Fox cameraman wearing a Trumptopia T-Shirt gushes, “Trumptopia’s behind you, sir!”

“I’m really trying to keep casualties low yet send a message of compassion. Fucking tightrope act,” says Trump loosening his red tie. Not to mention the chance to catch Obama sleeping with a nuke.”

“3 D chess once again, sir!” says the Fox cameraman.

“What’s your name, kid? You have a future on Trump TV.” says Trump shaking the cameraman’s hand in the dominant style Trump is famed for.

“But I have a major My Pillow distribution center in Kenosha,” the shocked Lindell finally says.

Trump checks his watch and says, “Um, not 28 minutes.”

A strategic bomber glides the starry skies over Lake Michigan beneath the full moon. In the bomber cockpit a heated argument rages between the pilot and co-Pilot.

“Orders are orders!” shouts the pilot.

“Not when the fucking order is to nuke a city on American soil for a delusional illegitimate president!” bellows the co-pilot.

Pilot and co-pilot both reach for their pistols. BANG!

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 11 – TO NUKE OR NOT TO NUKE KENOSHA THAT IS THE QUESTION

*As always my little disclaimer that this is of course a work of pure fiction about an alternate universe. It is in no way a true reflection the kind and compassionate Donald J Trump, and his cohorts or for that matter the good guys in this dark comedic telling the Biden bunch. But I hope it makes you feel a little better about the weird as hell times we are still lost in.

Donate for the Coolest in stories and meditation.

Meditating on the Big Picture Behind the BIG LIE

Audio: Meditating on the Big Picture Behind the Big Lie

In these menacing times it’s helpful to meditate on the big picture to regain some sense of objectivity. I needed a meditation to settle me down after a disturbing dip of my toe into the Monday night news about the cesspool that was the Nazi odal staged CPAC 2021. A strange, almost occult event, complete with a golden idol Trump and fueled by our ever more fascist GOP, filled with Trump wannabe liars.

Separated at birth, Big Boy and Trump Statues

I took some deep breaths to launch myself into meditation, closed my weary eyes and began to visualize the evolution of the human race, all the way from its early primitive cave people beginnings up to the troubling Q-soaked mind control times of today. A somber time where nearly half the US population is still enraged and enslaved by the dangerous BIG LIE that the Dems stole the election from Trump.

Some of us are trying to move on from the Trump era of arrogant incompetence and mean spirited thought, word and deed. I love Biden’s work 6 weeks into his presidency. But I am frustrated that so many of my fellow Yanks are clinging to the old ways of a GOP I believe is already dead. Living in the Trump BIG LIE reality unfortunately leaves many of my friends stuck in Q inspired racism, entwined in wilful spread of Covid, and knee-deep more karmic awfulness than George Orwell could imagine.

As a builder of skyscrapers and a maker of movies, I know firsthand that all things begin with imagining. Last night I yearned to imagine answers to the big picture behind the BIG LIE. And so I set my vivid imagination to workless work.

I began to visualize, as if from deep planetary orbit, our blue world spinning and spiraling through space time. The curve of humanity’s negative traits and positive traits presented themselves as a wild mesh of blue and red strands of energy. Thin blue and red lines streaked along the path of earth’s trajectory within this galaxy and our Milky Way galaxy in a glorious dance of the cosmos.

Now the visualization meditation took on a life of its own. Indeed, it was, as it often is for me, it seemed as though the universe was revealing something profound. Somehow this unfolding epiphany allowed me to let go of seeing the blue and red as good versus evil. Instead I witnessed the web of human lifetimes simply as primitive thinking versus evolved thinking. Borrowing from Biden recent neanderthal comments concerning Texas Governor Abbott’s dropping mandatory mash wearing as the pandemic still rages.

The lines of primitive thinking, represented in red by (Who else?) Trump, were energized by the people who love him, at the core, for his being a cunning yet not bright, racist. Lines of the blue higher consciousness reality swirled in space time among the stars as a lighter and hipper energy more in tune with my frequency of which I wish to be a part.

I watched the human wave of consciousness expand from its tiny prehistoric origins blossom into the vast bundles of blue and red lifeline threads of today’s harrowing reality. Then I saw that humankind stands at a great fork in reality. In the blue fork of reality, humankind ascends into a space faring race that populates the stars, emerging after eons as a species immortal through exploration of space and our own diversity. But in the other fork, the red dominated one, humankind does not even master this single world that we’ve been gifted by the universe. And sadly in a relatively short span of time from 2021 humanity’s beautiful time lines all end in our species’ extinction for a number of idiotic self-destructive reasons.

I observed all this sorrow without forgetting to remain relaxed and to keep breathing deeply. Then something wonderful, in a weird way, arose my vision. The shorter red Trumpian dominated timeline bent into a loop where alpha and omega met and humankind’s collective life force rode the entire rise and fall of humanity over and over. All of this beauty experienced each time as new personas.

And so the finite red timeline evolved from Trumpism had it’s own form of immortality, expressed as looped lifetimes. Now I visioned there were two primary ways for humanity to exist infinitely. Each valid for it’s own kind, those who cling to the past and those who look forward to the future.

I slowly opened my eyes, gradually coming back to this reality. The TV was playing Wonder Woman 1984. The fireplace filled our living room with warmth and orange light. My beautiful wife Elizabeth was sound asleep on the couch, snoring lightly. My rescue dog Lincoln was cozy-ed up to me in my easy chair. I continued not to judge either fork in the human wave of timelines that my mind saw as diverging as either right or wrong. I felt blessed that the universe provides infinite possibly via the quantum physics of the multi-universe.

A deep sense of gratitude and relaxation washed over me. And then I gave myself and perhaps the world a gift… I let go of the loop Trump universe and all it represents. You see, I prefer to go forward to the reality timeline where the human wave populates the stars. A bigger joy awaits us all there.

Peace to all realities.

The Importance of Listening to Spirit Guides in Troubled Times

Elizabeth and I are off on a little honeymoon camping trip to the parks in Utah. Yesterday we recorded our wedding for Youtube and live broadcasted it on Facebook.

Our decision was based on the fact there’s so little positive story-wise these days. We hope our sharing of this normally very private ceremony warms your heart  during these trying times.

None of this would have happened without my listening to my ET spirit guide Ohom as you see in the video below.

Now more than ever it’s vital to stay in a place of love and listen to your spirit guides, ET or otherwise. They have the big picture and will never steer you wrong.

 

Your Invite to Break the Speed of Light – Part 2

In part 1 of Your Invite to Break the Speed of Light blog series, I discuss that a preference for the speed of light (SL) converted to 671 million miles an hour because it’s easier to picture breaking the light speed limit in your mind.

For example: Traveling at 671 million miles an hour it only takes about 10 hours to cross the solar system end to end at the speed of light. But what’s cool is that in just reading the prior sentence, you mentally crossed the entire solar system end to end in about 1 second. A visualization that allowed you to travel 36,000 times faster than the speed of light. Congrats. But don’t get cocky. We’re just getting started.

In part 1 you learned to leave your physical body astral travel safely using the silver tether to reel your ethereal body back to its home base, regardless of distance.  Please read part 1 before multi-dimensional or timeline travel because you must learn to use your silver tether before we can upgrade you to first-class.

When I am not being simply me these strange days, good old Ken Sheetz, Chicago real estate mogul turned conscious filmmaker and with a humble day job in social media and curating out of this world tech, I am a vast collection of angels and star beings who call themselves the OHOM collective. OHOM is an acronym for OPEN HEART OPEN MIND. We the OHOM collective first appeared to Ken at the moment of his conception in the womb, just after he traveled to 1952 from 5 billion years in your future. Take our word for it as connoisseurs of consciousness of Ken’s a fun channeler.

Apologies also if the delay in your species awakening, while we stepped away for a few millenniums, has caused chaos on your world. Expressing itself in its various and unpleasant forms. Some of them stupid-seeming like Trump and Boris as pawns for mastermind Putin, rampant racism, sexism.

Note: We of the OHOM collective wish to emphasize that we are above such petty judgements such as those Ken just slipped into this upgrade. Yours is a free-will planet of consent after all. The only mind control which humans experience is generated by your own species. Take heart and know that all you, even Trump and his doppelganger Boris, both serve the greater good. Obviously, Ken has a ways to go in his evolution.

We’ve the awakened many worlds know all to well that overcoming the duality of a right-left brained biology is always a big challenge. Indeed, if we a had a proverbial nickel for every sentient race that extinguished itself before mastering it’s own technology… Well, let’s not go there, as you say. And now back to your regularly scheduled interstellar thought travel upgrade.

Our collective has not thought traveled to your world since the sinking of Atlantis until roughly 2010. Sorry, but we could not begin this secret upgrade until this potent Lion’s Gate of 8.1.19. Congrats on finding your way here and listening to we and Ken, even as we appear to ramble.

At any rate please, we beg you, read part 1 if you have not. We, the beings autotyping — a thing similar to old school autowriting — through Ken’s fingers cannot be responsible for your safety if you read Your Invite to Break the Soeed of Light – Part 2 before Part 1.  We are placing the link here in the blog to Part 1 again and for the last time.   We will pause autotyping 30 earth minutes before continuing to channel through Ken.

Cue elevator music.  10 Hours long . Hope you dig it much as we ETs do.

 

And we’re back! Our ET and angelic multitude joyfully Autotyping through our mutual dear pal Ken, just one connective entity of many we each have in common. Hopefully you are digging the elevator music as it takes you higher and higher in consciousness, much like an elevator to the stars.  And sorry, it’s truly is best to listen to this elevator music while reading further for your enlightenment, comfort and safety.

Ahhh. The elevator music is so gosh darned relaxing yet stimulating. At least to ET minds. Just what you need to upgrade your astral travel skills. It’s a handy 10 hours long, with a few pauses built in for multiple readings. Relax. We promise the teachings of this deluxe edition of Your Invite to Break the Speed of Light – Part 2 will not take us nearly 10 hours.

Don’t worry if you are one of the first of readers to discover this blog the grows in subscribers as slowly as a melting Antarctic glacier. That’s quantum intentional. We wish the human audience to build slowly, but ever increasingly on a geometric scale that will eventually transmit this wisdom to everyone on earth now and in your future and out into endless time and space where you will begin to thought travel the galaxy tonight.

Heads up this blog visual pattern is infused of far greater tech than the human eye can see or your minds imagine. You see, the Coolest Meditation Ever is always written in 5D-ultrahypertext that travels trillions of times faster than the speed of light. It reaches out to all sentient life via the Akashic Records to the sufficiently evolved to receive it’s data throughout this universe and all dimensions, multiverses, times and reality modes. More on that phenom  in blog 5 and yes and they all must be read sequentially.

Screen Shot 2019-08-02 at 3.52.43 PM

By now we can read your mind, dear reader, “Jeeze Louise, when is the OHOM collective ever going to let Ken share the thought is faster than light wisdom that I somehow feel will save the world?” Fear not. He is. Ta da! This is the download!

Even when it seems Ken is wandering in his autotyping like the faithful, but unsure, brave pioneer that he is, we are just making room for all the data contained secretly in this part 2 download. A download which if each data bit were one were 1MM in length and placed end to end as a thread it would reach all the way to Alpha Centauri. So sit back and enjoy the download. As long you are playing the elevator music as you read you are getting your super groovy upgrade. Note: There is a 60 second break in the music coming up for deep breathing.

Darn. We can’t go on! Whoa!  We have stragglers aboard the DreamShield blog ship. Hmm. How do we to make this easy for the stubborn among you who have not gone back to read part one?

Got it. Here are steps 1-7 for faster than light travel from part 1. Remember, pay attention in particular to the silver tether. You may skip reading this if you have read Part 1 but it’s good to refresh your mind and read again. We promise and we never lie. Lying is an expression of your primitive mind you are leaving behind as you read on.

5 6 vision

STEP ONE: Listen more deeply to the pattens within the elevator music. There’s no guided meditation there. Allowing you to free form your way across the cosmos with excellent long form videos, which are primarily frequency meditation music in nature.

STEP TWO: Get comfy. Get still. Early on in this whole thought travel experience I got my best results laying down. But now seated in an upright yoga posture works equally well and keeps me from falling asleep as happens with laying down.

STEP THREE: Completely clear your mind through meditation and deep patterned breathing. Experiment with what inner visualizations and breathing pattern gets your mind quiet. We live in a world designed to keep your mind busy and restless. Meditation is a quick and easy remedy that add years to your life. And take it from Ohom and me, you want to be around for the beautiful changes we will see over the next 100 years. I know it doesn’t look that way watching the news but dig deeper into the real facts and you’ll see the world has never been safer or happier. But I digress. Back to breaking the speed of light.

STEP FOUR: In your mind’s eye, picture a silver tether at your ethereal body’s ankle to keep you connected to your physical body. It’s your lifeline and it’s indestructible. With your tether you can end thought journeys at will any time you say, you’re the boss of you, and return home safe and sound.

STEP FIVE: Picture your ethereal body rise from your physical body. Start small with your thought travel. Simply stand up from your body and walk around your home in the ethereal. Look in a mirror. I notice I am translucent in spirit form and quite a bit younger, about 37.

STEP SIX: When you feel ready, walk out the front door. Pass right through it. You’re not solid.  Leave your house and take a walk in the street. Detail is important. Feel the breeze.  Hear the birds. Feel the sun on your face. Test snapping home into your body via the silver tether. Whoosh!

STEP SEVEN: The next thought travel you do, after getting deep into your meditation, picture somewhere on earth you’ve already visited. Only now you’re traveling in your ethereal body. No planes, trains or automobiles required. Let’s say for this example the place you’ve visited and love is Paris.  See yourself floating above your home city and lift off!  See yourself streaking your way in an instant to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Walk around the balcony and take in the sights, sounds and scents of the streets of Paris below.  Smile. You’ve made your first faster than light journey.

CONGRATS STAYING ABOARD FOR YOUR VERY OWN UNIQUE UPGRADE OR FOR COMING BACK AFTER A LITTLE BREAK

Note: Since this blog is written in 5D-ultrahypertext there are countless of data bits hidden in the space between words to help you visit the stars in your meditations, making them testimonial worthy for CoolestMeditationEver.com. Please email us at Help@CoolestTechEver.com if you have a testimonial to share.

Hey, you made it. Ready for your…

PREPARE FOR THOUGHT TRAVEL UPGRADE COMPLETION!

You are a living FTL

Take a deep breath and let the now soothing feeling elevator music wash over you. Close your eyes and breathe slowly in and out for sixty seconds or up to one hour. Your pick.

Notice how much lighter your head feels? Your head floats out the window nearest you and lifts off into the night sky taking the rest of your body along for the ride. You see the starry sparkling sky, the one that’s always “nighttime” above the deep blue sky.

Far below you a killer whale surfaces in the arctic where Ken must go in 2020 to complete his polar meditation series he began in 2012. BTW, the killer whale is Robin William whose reincarnations are recounted on this blog. Robin waves a flipper and telepathically says, “Nanu nanu, buckaroo!” As you soar above the clouds from his sight.

Your so high in the blue sky you see the curvature of the earth or the flat disc of the planet if you of that mindset. But in either case you see the precious blue veil represents all there between you and death in the vacuum of space.

Chill, this is your astral body we’re flying with here and you don’t need silly old air. But let it be an inspiration to become an environmental warrior on your world from this day forth in the battle to fight the more primitive among you causing global warming and wrecking your perfect bubble.

We want the human species, it’s not a race, to evolve to join the OHOM collective one day! And how will you ever do that if you folks extinct all life on your planet as Mars once did? The Martians died off eons ago through something other than global warming. Ah, but that’s for another wisdom sharing blog upgrade.

You sail up from your home planet, or from whatever world you are reading this on. One sec, Ken says a hello to his love Elizabeth reading this in Denver visiting her amazing sister, two gorgeous cousins and I forget how many beautiful grandnieces and grandnephews.

Above all chill. OHOM, our collective name does not stand for Open Heart Open Mind for nothing. Because be you White, Black, Asian, whatever race, whatever color, be you a far left liberal gay person of mixed race or be you far right conservative pale white conservative that is a card carrying racist Trump fanatic, your energy is now in this collective meditation. It scatters over the earth on what will be eventually millions of phones and computers. ALL ARE WELCOME AS ONE HERE IN THIS ELECTRONIC SANCTUARY FOUNDED ON THE COSMIC PRINCIPAL OF LOVE THAT POWERS ALL OF GRAVITY.

During this part of the elevator music score, playing in perfect accordance with your reading speed, one that’s as unique as your fingerprint, the OHOM frequency begins transmitting a rainbow of infinite shades of color. Shafts of pure color  integrate with your human silver tether down to a DNA level. At this point you smell or sense a cleansing of the air as you breathe ever more deeply.

Now stare at this art by MC Kordan for 2 minutes exactly.

prismatic-me-kozdron

Phew!  Your tether upgrade is almost complete! Now, gracefully orbit the moon. Prepare for the slingshot to hyper space by imagining a world, a time or a reality you wish to visit. All is possible with the safety and range of your upgraded indestructible silver prismatic tether.

Got your destination in mind?  Ok. Now see in your mind’s eye the opening of a portal in the lunar orbit and kiss earth good-bye for now. Traveling anywhere trillions of times the speed of light is now a breeze and you can zip right back into your body in the blink of an eye, no matter the time, distance or dimension. Cool

After all, the entire multiverse works on the principal that everything began with the Big Bang from a single point of light.  You are that light. Have fun!

In parting, such sweet sorrow s your Bard once wrote, we’d all love to read your comments here on this 5D blog on your astral adventure after this cosmic consciousness upgrade. Now see billions of us across the all times and dimensions applauding you and waving bye-bye to you. Ta ta!  This is as much as we can share for now. Subscribe to the blog to be informed when Part 3 is ready for your next upgrade.

Happy Lion’s Gate 8.1.19!  OHOM out.

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Tarantino’s ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD Mines Hippie-Hate Gold

Join us for a look at the dirty secret behind this weekend’s $40 opening box office for ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD. Warning: Spoilers ahead.

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Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt as Hippe Hater Heros in Tarantino’s ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD

I’ve been a Quentin Tarantino fan since PULP FICTION. And I admit to taking some joy when the good guys lit up Hitler in the INGLORIOUS BASTARDS finale. But as an independent filmmaker of modest success this past 23 years and counting, albeit one who got started a too late in life at age 42 to make it big — Hollywood’s young person’s game, my friends — I have to say the unpredictable Tarantino has become, alas, as predictable with his history revisionist twist endings.

This time Tarantino feeds like a vampire on the Sharon Tate’s brutal murder and dreams of up a washed up Cowboy actor, played to perfection by Leonardo DiCaprio and his co-dependent as it gets stuntman, equally well played by Brad Pitt as Sharon’s savior from the Manson family.

Please, Quentin, if you ever read this review of a huge fan of yours depressed over the turn of your career, go back to making good noir films instead of being some kind celluloid timeline cop. What’s next for your film 10th? Uma Thurman kills Booth before he assassinates Lincoln? Samuel Jackson kills Lee Harvey Oswald from the grassy knoll to save JFK? Get back to making great stories about lowlife characters.

Now, if you were part of the establishment, AKA the Man, AKA today’s Matrix, in the 60s and 70s, you likely hated Hippies and maybe still do to this day if you have not become woke folk. I’d even go so far as to say ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD was made specifically for liberal value haters, packaged in the form of Hippies.

Indeed, what’s painfully missing from Tarantino’s 9th film’s narrative is that Mason’s cult does not in any way genuinely represent the Hippie movement anymore than Nazis represent the German people. This makes the film an intoxicating ticket for conservatives and a brainwash for unsuspecting liberals who dig Tarantino. A win-win for the Trump era’s race bating, sexist, hate based politics.

And come on Brad Pitt, not cool you playing a character who got away with killing his wife and Leonardo as the ultimate wife killing enabler. I know Tarantino loves to study the underbelly of the world but unlike PULP FICTION where Samuel Jackson’s character experiences an awakening and mending of his wicked ways, there’s none of that in ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD. Leaving the characters of Leo and Brad rendered as hopelessly sexist.

As life worked out I was, unlike my film career where I was a little too old, a little too young to be part of the Hippie movement. I was high schooler in the late 60s and a college student in early the 70s. By 1974 I was married at 22 in and having kids by the tender age of 27. Hippies were passe’ for me. I was busy being part of the Yuppie movement and became real estate millionaire who built a skyscraper and Oprah’s Harpo Studios by 38.

Tarantino, born in 1963, was all of six year old at the start of the death of Hippie movement that the Mason Family murders triggered, with some help making a connection not really there from the establishment media. Do the math, Tarantino missed the Hippie movement entirely when it gave way to the Yuppie movement by the time he was old enough to drive.

My bet is Tarantino’s only picked up on the Hippie vibe from old movies for the most part when he was a video store clerk with lots of free time on his hands. Or perhaps his parents used Hippies as some kind of parental scolding, “Do your homework, Quentin or you’ll end up a damned filthy Hippie!”

Tarantino’s connecting Hippie-hating to the most notorious commune leader, the Hippie Satan himself Charles Manson is frankly akin to making a movie about life in Oklahoma City with the heroes stopping right-wing Christian Timothy McVeigh’s bombing as a condemnation of Roman Catholics and vets.

So I say shame on Tarantino and Sony tapping into hate for liberal values of our current divided society and making a film bordering on a PSYOP.  ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLWYOOD with its all white main cast — aside from the fantasy of white guy Brad Pitt kicking  Bruce Lee’s ass — suffers from misguided Hippie hate and spoils an otherwise good movie. Even if this 9th film from Tarantino it does not come close to his mad story structure skills at his peak of 90s filmmaking.

Don’t buy my cynicism of this film as marketed to appeal to hatred for liberal values and the #metoo movement, a movement that snared Tarantino’s long time patron Harvey Weinstein? Go ahead and drive the AI that has you pigeonholed as liberal a headache and read this Breitbart review that raves about Tarantino’s “masterpiece” hating on Hippies and Wokesters.

With a $40 million take at the box office, hate targeted filmmaking has sadly become commercially viable. What will follow after the success of this film is scary as Hollywood is copycat industry.

Want to help me make an uplifting film that protests the horrific treatment of refugee kids at the border where the hero is a Republican/Christian social worker? Click this link to be whisked away to the crowd funder for SOAP & TOOTHBRUSHES.

THE BIG PICTURE BEHIND TRUMP’S PRESIDENCY

As the right and left media roils for ratings in this strange era’s, love him or hate him, craziest presidency ever, I just received some surprising insights from my ET spirit guide Ohom (Open Heart Open Mind) as to what our meditations in 2017 at the Trump inauguration looked like on spirit plane.

Inaug dream

It’s January 20, 2017 again. Elizabeth and I nervously stand amongst the mostly MAGA hat wearing crowd, sporting instead our CME penguin hats. Each time Hillary appears on camera the crowd jeers, “Lock her up!”

Two grizzled beer drinkers jeer each time Obama or Michelle appear on the Jumbo-tron nearby. It’s an ugly scene. Neither Elizabeth or I really want to be here. This is not the America we grew up in. And it is especially not the one Elizabeth served 17 years in the military to defend.

But we have dutifully followed Ohom’s simple instructions to go to this “largest ever” inauguration, and hold space of love for Trump in this power intoxicated crowd. We do our best to bless Trump’s presidency; that it ultimately be good for the planet, or to at very least do as little harm as possible.

Oddly, I sense this crowd, one that should be elated on this first day of the Trump administration, is deeply defensive. They literally can’t seem to believe their man Trump really won, even though he’s up on the big stage getting sworn in; Melania frowning behind his back on the Jumbo-tron screen perched atop scaffolding.

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But there something’s very different in this particular meditation replay of the inauguration. A mental replay I’ve run countless times for over 2 years now, trying to make sense of what our crazy mission accomplished in the light of destructive programs for the environment and humanism rolling out almost daily from Trump via Twitter.

THE INAGURARTION TRANSMUTATION MEDITATION

Today Ohom is finally showing me what really happened energetically that fateful day, sealed within the scared Masonic geometry layout of DC. Deep within the low vibrational inaugural crowd, cozy in our own bubble of bliss, sweet Elizabeth and I hold a space of love; just as Ohom guided.

Our loving  meditation crystalizes moisture from the light rain that begins to fall. Our love meditation becomes a diamond-seed that burrows into the wet grass beneath our cold feet. Soon a translucent white energy tree rapidly grows beneath Elizabeth and me. The rapidly growing energy tree sweeps us high above the bristling Trump clan.

My view to the dais greatly improved, I gaze towards the red-faced Donald J. Trump giving a speech former president Bush later observed, “That was some weird shit.”

Agreed. To me this all feels like the birth of the apocalyptic era right out of FALLOUT THREE; a video game that takes place in a mutated and ruined Washington DC 200 years after World War III.

I flinch as Trump’s weird shit “America First” address deeply disrespects Obama’s legacy. Trump behaves as though he’s not inheriting a booming economy but a “smocking” wasteland.

Looking ahead to the dais, I see two other white energy trees carrying other pairs of meditators high above the oddly fidgety crowd.  I wonder to myself, “Maybe the Trump fans are nervous they elected a thin-skinned guy with his trigger finger on the largest nuclear arsenal in history?”

Amazed by this new feeling compassion towards the desperate-for-change Trump’s base, I look back towards the Washington monument. Nine other white trees carrying meditation pairs grow rapidly. The procession of 12 inner lighted white trees leads all the way from the dais to the Lincoln Memorial.

The wise Ohom never let any of our teams know we are working as a meditation group of 12 tree riding pairs until now. I may never know their names, but Ohom tells me the dozen meditation teams represent all races, male and female, and sexual orientation.

Soon, all twelve energy trees are large enough to join their rapidly leafing branches above us the meditation teams. Loving energy pulses through the umbrella of white trees, downloading into the anxious crowd below.

Now all of our teams of meditators hold space for one thing: that the Trump presidency, messy as its likely to be, never result in a launch of World War III.

Ohom tells me telepathically as I write, “Take heart, Ken. All of Trump’s many disconcerting acts he has and is yet to commit during his  presidency are in actuality a sacrifice to your planetary conscious.  The Mars energy of war that has dominated your world since the fall of Atlantis is dying. Trump is but a servant to accelerate its end.”

Even knowing I’ll fail to recall all this and fall at times into anger at Trump’s efforts to get our collective goat, I feel blessed to finally have this gorgeous vision to wrap my head around as to Trump’s higher purpose and hope you do too. This has been a tough two years for we moderates, plus liberals and many conservatives alike.

But whether it’s 2 or 6 years  until the Trump era finally ends, the blink of an eye in the cosmic grand scheme, look for an overnight flip to the next era. One that will make the loving 60s look passe!

And as the barrage of negative news and policies continues 24/7, I suggest you tune out to the ratings driven chatter and join with us in meditation for a better tomorrow. Vote when the time comes but don’t obsess over all this until November 3, 2020 is closer. Advice to myself as much as you, dear reader.

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Please watch the film if you’ve not seen yet or to refresh the 24 planetary healing meditations today!

 

Thanks for the Quick Healing, Everyone!

Wow. It’s only been handful of days since I almost left the planet. My 3rd March NDE (what’s my issue with March?) happened this past Wednesday. A Wednesday like any other. Elizabeth and I had gotten up and off to hike with our rescue dog Lincoln shortly after sunrise. We were back home before 8 AM and making breakfast.

I like to take my supplements before I eat so I gathered them up from the many bottles under our counter and did what I’ve done many times; popped a bunch of them in my mouth at once. Then it happened. I began violently gagging.

I staggered over to the sink to try to barf them up. My stomach wretched deeply but no luck getting the logjam of supplements free. Elizabeth asked if I was OK and next thing I knew I was on the hard tile kitchen floor face down; blood dripping from my mouth and nose.

I tried to get up but both my arms were numb. Elizabeth shouted, “Stay down, Ken! You passed out and smashed your head! Are you OK?” I was confused because the last thing I remembered was choking on supplements by the sink.

Soon a team of 6 paramedics were crammed in our Sedona kitchen. As they began strapping me into a stretcher, the lead paramedic examined my eyes with a small flashlight. “Normal contraction in both eyes,” he told his clan of rescuers. Elizabeth gave a grateful sigh of relief as he asked, “What happened?”

After I recounted my stupidity of taking too many supplements at once I was told I’d suffered a hard lesson about a part of my body I’d never heard of before, the Vagus nerve. Pronounced like Vegas, but not as much fun. It wraps around the esophagus and choking can trigger it. It’s used by wrestlers to induce a sleep hold.

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For a guy who had a vision in a past near death as kid this 2019 NED was nothing like that. It feels more like reboot. I simply was here one minute, gone briefly, and then back with no visions of where I went.

The paramedic asked me as blood dripped from my mouth and nose, “Who is our president?”

“Sadly Trump,” I responded. My gallows humor got a few smiles according to Elizabeth and showed them I was going to be OK but they still insisted I go to the ER for Xrays and a CT scan. My heart was acting up a bit with what they hoped was a trauma induced an atrial fibrillation.

Each day I am recuperating rapidly. The outreach of love and support on Facebook and in real life has been deeply touching and began while I was briefly in the ER. Thankfully all the tests were good, nothing was broken and I did not suffer ever a concussion. And with all the healing energy that came my way my heart happily returned to its normal beat in a matter of hours.

Man, I remember chuckling when George Bush passed out choking on a pretzel that triggered his Vagus nerve back in 2002. Well, it’s not so funny now when I feel the pain in my neck head and shoulders from the fall, a lot better each day, that makes it a challenge to type right now.

The painful lesson I happily pass on: Take your supplements one at a time or end up like me and W.

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Robin Williams Gives Newly Departed Friend a Whale of a Ride

During my stay at Malibu’s Great Spirits Ranch, hosting events and running social media for the bulk of 2012, I was blessed to meet many amazing stars of the LA spirit community.  One of those LA stars is now my partner in love, biz and life, Elizabeth England. We’ve been living in bliss together now for three years, nestled in a lovely home in Sedona.

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Annelise Balfour Couchman (Annalisa)

As we work round the clock to get the word out about an amazing line of EMF protection devices that literally save lives on our new CoolestTechEver.com e-commerce site, it can be easy to actually forget that magical time. A time when all of us in the yoga and meditation community across the planet were looking forward to the end of the Mayan calendar with hope for a new era in human awareness.

In that heady time, there was lovely woman named Annelise (Annalisa) Balfour who visited the Malibu ranch a few times for GSR events. Her mega-watt smile and contagious positive attitude made her a stand-out from the crowds who visited the 14 acres ranch, perched high above the city of Malibu in the Santa Monica mountains. Annelise was curious about my ET spirit guide Ohom and we had great conversation about the mission of the DreamShield to assist in gently elevating human consciousness through meditation.

Yesterday, amidst all the hype on FB surrounding the mid-term elections, which gratefully succeeded in the Dems taking the house to put some check on 45, I was shocked to learn that sweet Annelise had passed away from breast cancer. It instantly put all the nonsense surrounding Trump and our crazy-making politics into perspective.

Monday, at Ross Pittman’s of ConsciousLifeNews.com’s weekly power of eight meditation event, I asked the group to help Annelise on her journey. Everyone eagerly agreed. As soon as we all closed our eyes and dropped into our heart space I connected to my dear spirit guide Robin Williams; now enjoying an oceanic afterlife as a killer whale, after short reincarnations as a blue whale and a blue dolphin. Robin, who calls himself Nanu these days, volunteered to help in the group meditation.

Robin found Annelise’s spirit wandering the beach in Malibu. When she spotted Robin they connected telepathically and he playfully invited Annelise to swim out and climb aboard his back and hang onto his dorsal fin. Annelise happily accepted Robin’s invitation and soon they were off!

Annelise gleefully clung to Robin the killer whale like a mermaid born for this. Robin dove deep and soared up, flying from from wave to wave. Annelise laughed with carefree joy as the duo glided on the wind and waves.

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Now Robin dove deep.  Deeper and deeper, down to the bottom of the ocean he raced. At first Annelise worried about air but then chuckled she no longer had the need for mortal breathing. She gasped as up ahead a small portal of golden light opened, a glittering beacon on the dark ocean floor.

Robin told Annelise, “Sorry.  Too small for me. This is as far as I can take you, babe. Enjoy your journey to the center for the earth!”

I watched the vision from the Sedona meditation circle with a giddy smile as Annelise’s spirit accepted Nanu’s whale of an invite and dove into the golden portal. Her spirit easily glided though the layers of the earth, gaining in power. Soon she arrived at the planetary core. But instead of hot magma she was amazed the earth’s core swirled in molten gold.

A large golden lever that stuck out from a golden column beckoned to Annelise. Free of mortal hesitation, she pulled the golden lever sharply down. To her joy a wave of golden energy sailed from the earth’s core rocketing out to the surface and kept right on going throughout the solar system and the whole universe.

The vision ended and I shared the story with our Sedona meditation group. Others shared visions too of her powerful presence. And I felt immense gratitude for the abundant health of my love Elizabeth and the mutual support we give each other as we continue to grow and develop as leaders of the conscious community.

Today, America awoke to a renewed Congress, blessed with 100 women of many races and creeds who, to record turnouts, were elected yesterday. Thanks for helping make that happen, Annelise and my coolest ever mediation Sedona pals! Safe journeys on whatever you are up to next on the other side, Annalisa. I have a feeling your part of your work will be helping heal the idiotic divides between the people.

Oh, and I’ll pass your thanks onto spirit guide and killer whale Nanu, AKA Robin Williams.

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THE MEANEST THING ANYONE EVER SAID TO A KID

By Ken Sheetz

FirefoxScreenSnapz028It is 1960, Bay View Wisconsin. Our fuzzy miniature grey Poodle named Lacy, licks 8-year-old me, giving me love like a crazy. Lacy already has some tumors.  She dies sadly, years later, taking on the cancer of our family. A poodle Jesus. But for now I am basking in her very lively lick kisses. I can’t contain my little boy giggles and shout, “Lacy loves me!”

A dear relative, who will remain anonymous, one that never likes seeing me happy, like happiness is something to fear, says clucking their tongue disapprovingly, “Ken, Ken, Ken. You think that dog licking is love?”

“Um, yeah,” I say already dreading the meanness that I know is coming.

My dear relative grins, like they are addressing the village idiot, and looms near my little face, their breath wreaking of cigarette smoke, and says dryly, “Wrong, Kenny boy. Dogs just lick people for the salt on their skin.”

“Feels like love to me!” I say, tears welling. Lacy feels the tension growing in me and tries to lick away my pain.

My dear relative smells my pain and laughs crazily as they deliver their words like a death blow, “Love? From a poodle? Ha! Animals don’t have souls, so they don’t love, except salt. Dogs love salt! Ha ha ha!”

Eight-year-old me has no words. The dear relative sickly relishes the shock on my little boy face. I begin to shake with sorrow and rage at what’s been stolen from me, the love of every animal on planet earth. A word knife is lodged deep in my heart. I shove Lacy off my lap and run bawling to my room to the taunting laughter of the dear relative.

Well, it’s 2014 now. I am a lot wiser. I call bullshit, dear relative. I feel sorry you could not feel love and found it needed to shut my heart like yours. For decades you succeeded. Today I am grown now, awakened and grown wise in the power of love.

POODLE POWER!

So in today’s meditation I send you, dear relative, loving Lacy doggie licks. Lick, lick, lick. Back across time and space, straight to your frozen heart. I see the licking love of our tormented brave family dog Lacy upon your heart. She is a brave furry little hero who your inner guardians are helpless against as she scoots between their legs, effortlessly dodging swords.

You are stunned, dear relative. Penetrated to your frozen core as Lacy runs about your ice caked heart. The poodle darts so fast her grey fur ignites with the flame of love. Barking and licking, she flies so fast she is a streak of fiery love. Crack! The ice about your heart is helpless as the polar ice caps today’s neglect of humanity is wreaking our world. Your heart thaws rapidly. Spring dawns in your wintery soul.

Your hateful side is stranded on a iceberg in an azure ocean. You are a red polar bear trapped by Lacy’s love. The iceberg becomes too small and you fall, roaring the last of your hatred as a new inner ocean of Lacy’s bliss and love drowns the last of your bitterness.

Tugged to safely to shore by the impossibly strong tiny soggy poodle, dear relative, you stagger to your feet on the beach of love, new color in your face. Lacy, job happily done, barks good-bye and zooms back into to her tortured 1960 body and returns to licking the eight-year-old me and you say in wonder…

“I am so sorry, Kenneth. Forgive me. Yes, doggies love salt on our skin, but I see now – oh how I see – that’s their reward for giving love so freely and selflessly!”

You run to join us on the couch, kissing me with love as Lacy licks us both.

THE END

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