Anon believes the best disclosure method for horrible truths is dramatic entertainment. Where the truths are really horrible, the musical theater.

Gottlieb!

the musical tells the story of how Dr, Sidney Gottlieb ran a tippy top secret, multi-hundred million dollar, highly compartmentalized, covert, distributed research program on the scale of the Manhattan project and got away as clean as Doc Benway ever did.

Gottlieb’s MK Ultra program and 100s of sub programs focused on human neurological control systems.

"We're Training a Brain, here!" ( dance number)

More than 200 universities engaged in this research, few knew they were working for Sid Gottlieb's C_A.

"Defense work" it was called. No single institution or lab had more than a tiny part of the puzzle.

Gottlieb was looking for a hack, or a backdoor into the human operating system. Gottlieb wanted to know was there lower level language perhaps? How far could human be programmed and what were the constraints on control?

Makin' Zombies Shamble is Harder than it Looks!

Gottlieb wanted control over what we as individuals and We the People collectively thought, felt, understood, imagined and are capable of doing.

Ugly and evil thoughts pulsed in the Gottlieb mind, murderous shenanigans saw deeds done which "we were fighting the commies back then" will not excuse.

Doc Sid Gottlieb got his hands on the Mengele Matrix - the Nazi mind control technology developed by Josep Mengele at Auschwitz .

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josef_Mengele

C_A got total control individual and group information environments with networking technology, and they control not only what we see but what we can see.

There are no records.

>As for records of his experiments, the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute has stated that no records of the experiments have been found there, and according to Posner’s research, Mengele took the Auschwitz experiment records with him on his escape after the war to South America. What happened to those records he carried with him is unknown, at least publicly. Perhaps the records still exist and will be discovered or made public someday, but right now, whether they survived his death, passing into the hands of some interested party, is a question that hasn’t been answered.

https://www.quora.com/Would-someone-be-able-to-give-me-a-source-to-find-detailed-information-about-Dr-Josef-Mengele-and-his-human-research-at-Auschwitz

Doc Sid Gottlieb is usually portrayed as a sinister goofball with a pocket full of impractical lethal technological gizmos. A historical curiosity, part of the institutions troubled adolescence, an archaic relic of a polarized world where exploding cigars and beard depilatories were clutched as solutions to otherwise intractable problems.

Typical horseshit, or catnip for reporters.

Gottleib wanted more and better control, over individuals and groups. The massive covert research program he headed, MK Ultra was to produce a full functioning tractable and obedient human being (or NPC) with limited autonomy and a happy, unquestioning disposition.

Sugar growers in Florida in the 50s used lurching brain damaged zombies created by Haitian bokors for labor in the cane fields, but the Bokors methods (described by Wade Davis’ in The Serpent and the Rainbow, book not movie) - the Bokor's methods caused substantial brain damage and the zombie's functions were/are limited to brute repetitive labor.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Serpent_and_the_Rainbow_(book)

Gottlieb wanted to create light stepping, autonomous, high functioning griffon and white zombies suitable for sex slaves and who could do complex creative work and who would offer up their own children for sex ritual and sacrifice without complaint.

Gottlieb succeeded. NPCs are his creation. That’s why Q is here, and we are.

Nobody debated the reality of gods to whom they sacrificed first born male children.

Sumer lived by the code of Hammurabi, citizens paid taxes, made bloody sacrifices and prospered between calamities if fortunate enough to possess “me”.

A me is a competence conferred by a god. The me are social capacities, instruction sets, programs foundational to civilization.

A me is the knowledge necessary to construct a musical instrument and the ability to play it. A me might also be a means of Holy purification, skill in Metalworking or Scribeship. Over a hundred me are mentioned in later Sumerian mythology, though only 60 remain to us today; they are listed here.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Me_(mythology)

Aggregated me form a culture genome, each individual me a competency necessary to the survival of the civilization. The me have a peculiar form of delivery: a Nam Shub; a verbal or written incantation, the Nam Shub of Enki, a Sumerian god, is “both a story of linguistic disintegration and the cause of that disintegration.”

“Once upon a time, there was no snake, there was no scorpion,

There was no hyena, there was no lion,

There was no wild dog, no wolf,

There was no fear, no terror,

Man had no rival.

In those days, the land Shubur-Hamazi,

Harmony-tongued Sumer, the great land of the me of princeship,

Uri, the land having all that is appropriate,

The land Martu, resting in security,

The whole universe, the people well cared for,

To Enlil in one tongue gave speech.

Then the lord defiant, the prince defiant, the king defiant,

Enki, the lord of abundance, whose commands are trustworthy,

The lord of wisdom, who scans the land,

The leader of the gods,

The lord of Eridu, endowed with wisdom,

Changed the speech in their mouths, put contention into it,

Into the speech of man that had been one. “

A Nam Shub is a text which specific properties is self-reflexive, it’s about itself, and which can’t merely be read or listened to, it must also be obeyed, as is the song the Sirens sung:

Sweet coupled airs we sing.

No lonely seafarer

Holds clear of entering

Our green mirror.

(Homer, The Odyssey, Book 12, 173-176)

The me share similarities with the antigens in our immune system which warn of and describe enemy viruses, ordering the construction of antibody weapons to destroy them. Our job.

"An odd word that recurs obsessively in the Bible, where it appears in forty passages: "Burn their Asherah in the fire and cut down the idols of their god", "Cut down their Asherah and burn their idols in the fire." How many times and with what stubborn vehemence, does Yahweh enjoin his people. Asherah designates a goddess, the partner of Baal. And at the same time certain sacred poles, which were worshiped. Asherah is a name that condenses within itself the abomination of idolatry. Yet for a long time, until the reign of Manasseh, it happened that "the objects that had been made for Baal, for the Asherah, and for all the heavenly host" were housed inside the temple for Yahweh. For Israel, the perennial risk was that the house of Yahweh still contained the altars of other divine beings. Hence Manasseh "made his son pass through fire and practiced astrology, and magic and dealt with familiar spirits and wizards: he wrought much wickedness in the sight of the LORD, to provoke his to anger. "

Way back when,

when men were still a novelty,

and what towns there were

were smaller than a ballpark,

smaller, often, than a pitch-and-putt

and no one sentimentalized the out-of-doors;

when every man was a man of few words

because there were only a few,

and those so open-ended and adaptable

that to pin them down required great force

and weighted presentation,

so that there was no such thing as a meaningless gesture

and people watched each other –

but there were still, believe me, many secrets

and no one was any the wiser -

many years ago and far away

in the ungenerous badlands of a distant country

where the hot sun addled what the cold night froze

and things were rough all over,

there stood what seemed to it's inhabitants

a very splendid city.

It boasted walls, fine wall, made out of stone

and terrible tall,

and monuments - lot's of monuments -

and most remarkably, a gigantic king.

The cities name was Uruk, or Uruk of the Walls,

and the king was called King Gilgamesh.

King Gilgamesh had a passion for marvels -

and since King Gilgamesh was something of a marvel himself,

the men of Uruk were at pains

to make him comfortable.

For King Gilgamesh was governed only by his passions,

and the city of Uruk was governed only by King Gilgamesh.

Gilgamesh: I am sorry for Enkindu that he died,

he was my brother.

And I am sorrier still that I lost Enkindu

Whom I least of all wanted to lose

and with whom I was friends.

But I am doubly sorry

that I, who have until now never lost anything

Should be stolen from in this manner,

For while I have made selections

Which are a kind of loss,

I have never before been denied.

And I am sorriest of all

And the reason I am crying is

That the death of my brother Enkindu

Has suggested to me that I'll die too

Someday

And I'm scared.

The Old Man: And so King Gilgamesh

the great King Gilgamesh

was bested by a little thing

an unheroic snake

and he broke down altogether

and he wept the tears of a furious child

for he knew himself to be a failure

and he held himself cheap

and there wasn't a thing which he cared to do

and there wasn't a thing for which he cared

and he knew the frustration

of one who cannot have

what he thinks he wants

and he knew the shame

of one who knows that at least in part

he was himself the author

of his own undoing

and he knew the rage

the hideous rage

the helpless, hopeless rage

of somebody who's been stolen from

who knows he will always be stolen from

because he's here

because he's human

and because he must be off his guard

from time to time.

But as bad as these things were -

and they were very bad-

they did not trouble him so much as did the cold and awful

certainty

that he had not truly wished for

this bauble he had been denied.

That it would not and could not have made him happy.

That the only joy it promised wasn't joy at all

But tremulous relief

at being spared the pain of its loss.

And it was this ironic knowledge of

his own, his inconsolable vanity,

Which made him hate his life and everything he had.

And it was this self-same knowledge

Which later gave him the strength, the presence of mind,

And the imagination to act out the rest of his life

As decent and productive man.

So it was with Gilgamesh.

So it has always been.

Gentle Jesus join my journey

When I lay me down to sleep.

I would gladly sleep forever

In your kind companionship.

Sweet Redeemer walk beside me

Guide my dreaming by your grace

Help my mind make pictures of you

Let my fingers feel your face.

Should I live to see the moment

When the convict sun is freed

Let me not forget your kindness

Let me not forget my need.

>>9502664

What you suggest is plausible anon.

God has a way of turning evil into good, destruction is not always necessary.