Introduction to Exit From The Matrix

Introduction to Exit From The Matrix

by Jon Rappoport

March 15, 2014

My mega-collection, titled EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, is at the core of everything I’ve been doing, pursuing, researching, and writing about for the past several decades.

It’s ultimately why I’ve been sitting down at my computer and writing every day since I started in 2001 (the article archive starts in October, 2000, here).

For the past 12 years, among all my other articles, I’ve been writing about individual creative power.

The power to create new reality, new future, on a personal level, on any level, wherever innovation can change a status quo which is unsatisfying and limiting.

I’m referring to people’s lives, their work, careers, relationships, social and political conditions…from the most private concerns all the way to the future of the planet.

EXIT FROM THE MATRIX is the realization of a goal I’ve been pursuing for a very long time.

It’s intensely practical. It contains more than 50 new exercises and techniques aimed at expanding the power, range, and scope of creative power—along with very simple instructions on how to use these exercises.

Imagination is the buried key that unlocks the door that exits from the Matrix.

This collection also contains a presentation of the vital philosophy that underpins the limitless power of the individual. This is more than theory. It’s a guide to exiting from the Matrix.

From what is in EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, from the huge amount of material, I think you’ll see I’ve made no short cuts. In fact, I’ve done everything possible to go the extra mile.

So let’s get to the details. Here is the list of my brand new audio presentations:















Then you will receive the following audio seminars I have previously done:

* Mind Control, Mind Freedom

* The Transformations

* Desire, Manifestation and Fulfillment

* Altered States, Consciousness, and Magic

* Beyond Structures

* The Mystery and Magic of Dialogue

* The Voyage of Merlin

* Modern Alchemy and Imagination

* Imagination and Spiritual Enlightenment

* Dissolving Stress

* The Paranormal Project

* Zen Painting for Everyone Now

* Past Lives, Archetypes, and Hidden Sources of Human Energy

* Expression of Self

* Imagination Exercises for a Lifetime

* Old Planet, New Planet, New Mind

* The Era of Magic Returns

* Your Power Revealed

* Universes Without End

* Relationships

* Building a Business for Success

I have included an additional bonus section:

* My book, The Secret Behind Secret Societies (pdf document)

* My book, The Ownership of All Life (pdf document)

* A long excerpt from my briefly published book, Full Power (pdf document)

* My 24 articles in the series, “Coaching the Coaches” (pdf document)

And these audio seminars:

* The Role of Medical Drugs in Human Illness

* Longevity One: The Mind-Body Connection

* Longevity Two: The Nutritional Factors

(All the audio presentations are mp3 files and the documents and books are pdf files. You download the files upon purchase.)

Exit From the Matrix

What has been called The Matrix is a series of layers. These layers compose what we call Reality. Reality is not merely the consensus people accept in their daily lives. It is also a personal and individual conception of limits. It is a perception that these limits are somehow built into existence. But this is not true.

What I’ve done here is remove the lid on those perceived limits. This isn’t an intellectual undertaking. It’s a way to open up space and step on to a new road.

That road travels to more and more creative power, joy, and fulfillment.

During that great adventure, the individual experiences what has been labeled “paranormal” and “synchronistic” and “magical.” These words really don’t do us justice. They only hint at what we are and what we can do.

I put this collection together because it expresses, explains, and shows, in detail, how the individual can rediscover and reclaim his/her true power.

That process, that engagement, that life is beyond solving problems. Our problems, at the core, exist only because we have “misplaced an infinity.”

Everything I’ve done and written in the past 20 years has been aimed, one way or another, at bringing back that infinity, seeing through the layers of disguise, and moving ahead on the sunlit road we all desire.

We have, each one of us, an infinite life, lived in a world that is convinced it is bounded.

It’s time we dissolved that false contradiction.

Jon Rappoport

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at

Guns, schools, mind control, revolution

Guns, schools, mind control, revolution

by Jon Rappoport

March 4, 2014

“Padre, these are subtleties. We’re not concerned with motives, with the higher ethics. We are concerned only with cutting down crime–and. . .with relieving the ghastly congestion in our prisons. He will be your true Christian: ready to turn the other cheek, ready to be crucified rather than crucify, sick to the very heart at the thought even of killing a fly! Reclamation! Joy before the angels of God! The point is that it works.” — A Clockwork Orange, Anthony Burgess, 1962.

Fingers pointed like a gun. A pop tart chewed into the shape of a gun. A toy gun.

All over America, schools are exercising what they call zero tolerance policy to suspend young children packing “suggestions of guns.”

Behind this practice is the idea that populations can be conditioned against owning real guns. Start early, indoctrinate the kids, and society will change.

In turn, such thinking rests on the premise that human beings are Pavlovian dogs. Programmed biological machines. If the program currently running is faulty, and fails to obey the mandate of “greatest good for the greatest number,” change the program.

If the brain reveals a chemical imbalance (although no research has even established a baseline for normal balance), insert psychiatric drugs and correct the problem.

Maintain surveillance on the entire population, thus convincing millions they may be potential law-breakers…and they will modify their behavior, they will toe the line, they will march straight ahead and keep their mouths shut.

As this sort of flawed reasoning expands and spreads, people begin to believe that a model of radical reconstruction is viable and good.

For instance, how many people would now respond favorably to the idea that “everyone can be programmed to forget guns even exist”?

How many people would agree to a program that “guaranteed” racial prejudice would be wiped from human memory?

How many people would happily respond to the notion that environmental destruction, as an impulse, could be removed from the brain?

How many of these people would even notice that such programs were eliminating freedom? And if they did notice, how many would care?

Operant conditioning and mind control could have side effects? What does that mean, if freedom was never real in the first place?

A recent opinion piece in the Harvard Crimson, by student Sandra YL Korn, was subtitled: “Let’s give up on academic freedom in favor of justice.” Korn asserted that academic research promoting “oppression” should be stopped. Perhaps you can imagine what a university council, convened to define and rule on “justice,” would look and sound like.

(Question for consideration by the Committee: should University funds for African-American left-handed lesbians supersede monies devoted to correcting unequal treatment of differently-abled wheelchair-bound Hispanic immigrants whose parents descend from bloodlines of Spanish conquistadors in the New World?)

The idea that you can obliterate “bad parts” of the brain and preserve the good parts is now embedded in standard science. It is childish, absurd, and dangerous to the extreme.

Brain researchers are, on the whole, disinterested in the law. They aim to create a new species for whom no laws will be needed. People will do the right thing, because their upgraded brains tell them to.

If these researchers and their allies succeed, what we are now calling revolutions will be as pop tarts are to ICBMs. We’ll have mass uprisings that will shake the Earth.

Because when freedom is slipping away, is actually being drained away, and when people know it, in their bones, when they can no longer deny it or sleep through it, they will show exactly how important they think it is.

They will no longer believe that all this programming and brain research are aimed at curing illness. They will understand the madness being visited on them.

Jon Rappoport

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at

Space-time and imagination

Space-time and imagination

by Jon Rappoport

December 30, 2013

In space, time passes.

If you put a clock in a room, it will tick.

Time is associated with change. In that room, a person walks around. A moth circles. Another person enters, then leaves. The shadows move. If you wait long enough, a light bulb will burn out.

In space, some objects remain stationary. Books on a shelf. Notebooks on a desk. Boxes piled in a corner. Shoes on the rug. But again, if you wait long enough, those objects change. They decay.

So convincing is this presentation, we assume all space is this way. And we assume physical space is all the space there is.

Whereas, if we begin talking about the space of imagination, most people would draw a blank. “Imagination exists? Yes, maybe, I guess so. But it has a space or spaces? That’s going too far. That’s tantamount to setting up a ‘competitor’ to the space we all recognize. That’s weird and wrong…”

When I began painting in 1962, one of the first things I became aware of was I was finding and creating space on the canvas. And of course, much earlier, I had vivid sleeping dreams. What was that “thing” I was walking around in, in those dreams?

I once asked a physicist about this. He said: when you dream, you think you’re in space, but that’s just an illusion. As proof, he pointed out that he wouldn’t be able to measure what was happening in the space of my dreams, and for him, that was that.

When you’re inspired by a subjective vision of what you want to do to make your own future, and you stand at a window in the middle of the night and look out over a city, your experience of space is much different from what you experience while walking to your car in the morning to drive to work.

And even if you call “the visionary space” subjective, it can be a crucial factor in what you actually do to bring your future about. To make it happen in the world.

The energy exercises I developed for Exit From the Matrix are also about space. To project energy, you create space naturally.

Go back and watch Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane or Touch of Evil. Those films are all about created space and the arrangement/motion of people in space, and the angles from which they are shot. All film is about this, but Welles does it better.

From the viewpoint of imagination, space is being created all the time.

During the years, 1935-1960, in New York, the so-called action painters (De Kooning, Pollock, Gorky, Kline, etc.) discovered space as a primary workable “substance” for their explorations. They were quite forceful about it. It had nothing to do with Renaissance perspective or the illusion of intentionally drawn objects that mimicked how we see the world. In action painting, subjective space was pushed to the hilt, and it disturbed many people because it challenged the comfortable sensation that space was an entirely settled issue.

When you create space, you create power. Yours.

You’re no longer simply living in the automatically delivered space of the universe.

The transition from heaven-based religion to the worship of the universe itself occurred because, after the deconstruction of religious myths, the simplest course of action was to claim that the space we could see all around us, or through telescopes, was holy. It was easy. And holy space would give us all we needed, without any action on our part. Passivity.

The philosopher-poet, Giordano Bruno, was burned to death by the Roman Church because he suggested that every soul could extend his own space infinitely and yet remain in accord with other souls. This view challenged the Church at such a fundamental level it could not go unanswered.

Bruno, in a real sense, was talking about imagination—and once that door is opened in the discussion, institutions fall.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that every human has the right to pursue life, liberty, happiness, and the creation of space, time, and energy…”

Money is the commonly held method for creating space. If you have money, you can make space. Witness, for example, the man who works for 30 years to accumulate enough to retire and build his dream house or buy his boat, so he can sail the seas. Space.

If there is a revolution in store for us, it will come by changing that formula, with enough power, so we can create the space first and then flesh it out in the world.

This is not a sedate undertaking. It isn’t a stroll in the park.

The space-time-energy of the universe could be looked at as a business deal. A guy sells you a coat. He says, “Put this on and you’ll have all the space, energy, and time you need. Why go to all the fuss of creating these things yourself?”

I’m drawing attention to the fact that some sort of bargain has been struck.

Artists aren’t satisfied with accepting the space-time bargain as the end-all and be-all. They chafe at that prospect.

Underneath it all, this is why people regard artists with suspicion.

Why are you creating your own space and time? We have plenty of it already. Can’t you just accept that and get on with your lives?”

Coincidentally, this is the underlying message of secret societies: let us build reality for you.

Exit From the Matrix

People look around and quickly realize they’re surrounded by space, time, and energy, and they conclude there isn’t reason to create their own—and if pressed, they’ll tell as many stories as necessary to explain away their inertia. But somehow, the stories don’t do the trick. Vis-a-vis imagination, you’re either active or passive.

For many years now, I’ve been pointing out the advantages of pushing the “active” button.

The whole red-pill blue-pill story in The Matrix is, in a way, a deflection from the main event, which is: to imagine or not to imagine, to invent or not to invent, to create or not to create.

If we had an actual entity called psychology, instead of a watered-down cultural artifact, it would hinge on that choice, and everything in its purview would bloom from that seed.

Suppose, hypothetically, you found a machine that manufactures all the public space, time, and energy there is in physical reality. Suppose you somehow knew that if you turned off the machine, the continuum would shut down and utterly disappear. Suppose, finally, you also knew that when you turned the machine back on, it would smoothly pick up from where it left off, and no one would recall the “the blank period.”

That’s what we’re dealing with.

But when you invent space, that all changes.

In the thousands of stories about ETs coming to Earth with a message, where is the ET who says, “Wait a minute, don’t you people realize you’re passively accepting this space-time setup you have? Don’t you realize there’s another way to go about this? Don’t you realize you’re all artists? What happened to you? You bought a vacation in this little island of space-time, and you never went home. You forgot the way home…”

It’s even worse than that, because the vast majority have also become salespeople for this space-time continuum. They sell it every day, they pitch it and promote it and market it and hype it as “the one and only.”

Nothing intrinsically wrong with this space-time. It’s the acceptance of it as the final word that causes all the trouble.

Organized priest-class religion has a lot to answer for on that score. So do all our institutions.

One of the most successful sales tactics is making space less affordable and thus more valuable and scarce.

Get your little space now, before it’s too late. For the low-low price of $250,000 you can move into a 250-foot-square shoebox.”

And then: “We have to spy on everything that happens in this space, because everybody is a potential terrorist.”

It’s the shrinkage factor.

Focus everyone’s attention on diminishing, tightly controlled space, and they’ll be less likely to remember that they can invent their own.

Jon Rappoport

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at

Art, imagination, and magic

Art, imagination, and magic

by Jon Rappoport

December 8, 2013

Logic applies to the physical universe.

It applies to statements made about that universe. It applies to factual language.

Many wonderful things can be done with logic. Don’t leave home without it. Don’t analyze information without it.

But art and imagination are of another universe(s). They can deploy logic, but they can also invent in any direction without limit, and they can embrace contradiction. They can build worlds in which space and time and energy are quite different.

Magic is nothing more and nothing less than imagination superseding this universe. People have all sorts of crazy ideas about it, mostly prompted by organized religion, but magic occurs when imagination takes this reality for a ride.

Which brings us to what I call the Is People. The Is People are dedicated with a fervor to insisting that this Continuum and this consensus reality are inviolable, are the end-all and be-all. They may cling to their belief as a result of religion or science, it doesn’t matter. Either way, they bow at the altar of Is.

They strive to fit themselves into Is, and this eventually has some interesting negative consequences. They come to resemble solid matter. They take on the character of matter.

For them, imagination is at least a misdemeanor, if not a felony. It’s a blow to the Is of Is. They tend to view imagination as a form of mental disorder.

Technocrats like to gibber about imagination as if it’s nothing more than just another closed system that hasn’t been mapped yet. But they’re sure it will be, and when that happens, people will apparently give up creating and opt for living in a way that more closely resembles machines.

There are many people who secretly wish they were machines that functioned automatically and without flaws. It’s their wet dream.

Magic eventually comes to the conclusion that imagination creates reality. Any reality. And therefore, one universe, indivisible, is an illusion, a way of trapping one’s self.

What began as the physical universe, a brilliant work of art, ends up as a psychic straitjacket, a mental ward in which the inmates strive for normalcy. Those who fail at even this are labeled and shunted into a special section of the ward.

But the result of imagination, if pursued and deployed long enough and intensely enough, is:

Consensus reality begins to organize itself around you, rather than you organizing yourself around it.

There are various names and labels used to describe this state of affairs, but none of them catches the sensation of it.

Magic is one of those labels.

What I’m describing here isn’t some snap-of-the-fingers trick of manifestation; it’s a life lived.

The old alchemists were working in this area. They were striving for the transformation of consciousness. In true alchemy, one’s past, one’s experience, one’s conflicts all become fuel for the fire of creating new realities. Taken along certain lines, this is called art.

Art is capable of dissolving conflicts because it renders them down into basic energy, which can then be used to create.

One universe, one logic, one Continuum, one role in that Continuum, one all-embracing commitment to that role, one avenue of perception, one Is…this is the delusion.

And eventually, the delusion gives birth to a dedication to what everyone else thinks and supposes and assumes and accepts. This is slavery.

Freeing one’s self, living through and by imagination, is not a mass movement. It’s a choice taken by one person. It’s a new and unique road for each person.

Exit From the Matrix

Societies and civilizations are organized around some concept of the common good. The concept always deteriorates (if it was ever genuine to begin with), and this is because it is employed to lower the ceiling on individual power rather than raise it.

Be less than you are, then we can all come together in a common cause.”

It’s essentially a doctrine of sacrifice—everyone sacrifices to everyone else, and the result is a coagulated mass of denial of self.

It is a theme promoted under a number of guises by men who have one thing in mind: control.

It’s a dictatorship of the soul. It has always existed.

Breaking out of it involves reasserting the power of imagination to invent new and novel realities.

Under a variety of names, this is art.

Promoting the image of the artist as a suffering victim is simply one more way to impose the doctrine of sacrifice.

In 1961, when I began writing and painting in earnest, I had a conversation with the extraordinary healer, Richard Jenkins, whom I write about in my book, The Secret Behind Secret Societies (included in Exit From the Matrix). This is my note from that time about what Richard told me:

Paint what you want to, no matter what anyone else says. You may not always know what you want to create, but that’s good. Keep working, keep painting. You’ll find your way. You’ll invent something new, something unique, if you don’t give in. You’ll see everything in a new light. Reality is a bad joke. It’s nothing more than what everyone assents to, because they’re afraid. They’re afraid of what people will say. They’re afraid they have far more power than they want to discover. They’re afraid that power will lead them away from common and ordinary beliefs. They’re afraid they’ll become a target for all the masses who have surrendered their own lives and don’t want to be reminded of it. They afraid they’ll find out something great about themselves…”

Nothing I’ve experienced in the 50 years since then has diminished what Richard said to me.

These fears are all illusions that disintegrate when a person shoves in his chips on imagination and makes that bet and lives it.

Jon Rappoport

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at

Vaccine Woman

Vaccine Woman

by Jon Rappoport

November 27, 2013

there was no way to deny it or get around it

her little boy started screaming after the shot

and then 2 days later

the world shut down

he sat in a corner

he lay in his bed

he didn’t talk

the doctor huffed and puffed and tap danced in front of his steady blank eyes

he assured her this had nothing to do with the shot

it was a predisposition or a genetic trait or a precondition

he smiled now and then

he said autism could have emerged just after the shot was given

the universe rearranged itself

at that moment

there was no getting around it

she saw she was talking to a psychopath trained in the art of knowing everything there was to know

he had been a machine for a long, long time

she went into the darkness and pleaded her case before a government committee

they sat like ancient high priests

and listened and glanced at documents

and when they had permitted her the allotted time they handed down their judgment:


she went home and took her boy in her arms

he was still

he didn’t look at her

he didn’t speak

she consulted a lawyer

who told her there was a regulation that prevented her from suing the vaccine manufacturer

the company was protected by an iron wall

they would continue to make the vaccine and sell it

and pocket hundreds of millions of dollars

Exit From the Matrix

the long night was closing in

the storm was here

the silent boy was sitting in the eye

rage was burning in the middle of her chest

a rage the public would see as insanity

from their distance, the moon and the stars might know

what was going on

but people in their everyday straitjackets

would lash out at her

because they needed a target,

they needed a defector from their own slave shuffle to ridicule

they were “good,” they obeyed all the small print

they were neutered in their cores


they all knew there was big money at stake

and when that was on the table

official killers won

but she is not alone

there are other mothers

and there is a strange

two-edged sword in the empire

anyone can pick it up

and use it

cutting away the web

and coming to the spider

she and her companions

will never put down the sword

no matter what defamation

the intermediary whores

of the press

lay at her door

Vaccine Woman

Jon Rappoport

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at

Obamacare: here come the toxic psychiatrists

Obamacare: here come the toxic psychiatrists

by Jon Rappoport

October 5, 2013

The toxic psychiatrists are already here, but under Obamacare their mission will expand.

A recent Washington Post article parroted the usual unscientific statistic on numbers of people in America with mental disorders: 20% of all adults have “experienced a mental-health issue.”

Propaganda focuses heavily on children, with claims that “half of all mental-health disorders first show up before a person turns 14.”

Three-quarters of mental-health disorders begin before 24. But less than 20% of children and adolescents with mental disorders receive the treatment they need.”

Obamacare has an “essential list” of services, and “mental-health treatment” is one of them. You can be sure the targeting of children will expand.

More and more children will be brought into the system and receive diagnoses of mental disorders and the toxic drugs psychiatrists routinely prescribe. More kids will be screened for depression and undergo “behavioral assessments.”

The influence of psychiatry in young children’s lives is going to expand beyond anything we’ve yet seen. America is going to experience another sea change: the medicalization of children’s behavior will blanket the country.

First of all, as I’ve established many times, NO so-called mental disorder is defined scientifically. There are no physical diagnostic tests: no blood tests, no urine tests, no saliva tests, no genetic tests, no brain-scan tests.

If there were, you would find them in the DSM, the bible of the psychiatric profession, which lists the, yes, 300 mental disorders.

Instead, disorders consist of menus of behaviors assembled by committees of psychiatrists, who decide which clusters of behaviors rate a disorder label.

In a PBS Frontline interview, during the episode called “Does ADHD Exist?”, Russell Barkley, professor of psychiatry and neurology at the University of Massachusetts Medical Center, was asked about the lack of a blood test for ADHD. He made this extraordinary statement:

That’s tremendously naïve, and it shows a great deal of illiteracy about science and about the mental health professions. A disorder doesn’t have to have a blood test to be valid. If that were the case, all mental disorders would be invalid…There is no lab test for any mental disorder right now in our science. That doesn’t make them invalid.”

Dr. Barkley has his own definition of science. If, say, physics surrendered the need for physical tests, it could claim the sun revolves around the Earth, all oceans end in steep cliffs, and unexplored forests automatically contain dragons.

But “psychiatry is different.” Committees of men can assemble lists of behaviors and call them disorders. 300 and counting.

This is why all assessments of numbers of people who have mental disorders are useless. The disorders themselves are arbitrarily concocted.

But there are very serious consequences: drugs and more drugs.

When it comes to their toxicity and behavioral effects, I recommend several sources. The website “SSRI stories” presents a number of studies of the SSRI antidepressants (e.g., Prozac, Paxil, Zoloft). Consult the work of Dr. Peter Breggin, David Healy, and Robert Whitaker. Read Breggin’s essential book, Toxic Psychiatry.

Here is important information about one psychiatric drug: Ritalin.

In 1986, The International Journal of the Addictions published a most important literature review by Richard Scarnati. It was called “An Outline of Hazardous Side Effects of Ritalin (Methylphenidate)” [v.21(7), pp. 837-841].

Scarnati listed a large number of adverse affects of Ritalin and cited published journal articles which reported each of these symptoms.

For every one of the following (selected and quoted verbatim) Ritalin effects, there is at least one confirming source in the medical literature:

Paranoid delusions
Paranoid psychosis
Hypomanic and manic symptoms, amphetamine-like psychosis
Activation of psychotic symptoms
Toxic psychosis
Visual hallucinations
Auditory hallucinations
Can surpass LSD in producing bizarre experiences
Effects pathological thought processes
Extreme withdrawal
Terrified affect
Started screaming
Since Ritalin is considered an amphetamine-type drug, expect amphetamine-like effects
Psychic dependence
High-abuse potential DEA Schedule II Drug
Decreased REM sleep
When used with antidepressants one may see dangerous reactions including hypertension, seizures and hypothermia
Brain damage may be seen with amphetamine abuse.

Ritalin and other speed-type drugs are given to kids who are slapped with the ADHD label. Speed, sooner or later, produces a crash. This is easy to call “clinical depression.”

The Matrix Revealed

Then comes Prozac, Paxil, Zoloft. These drugs can produce temporary highs, followed by more crashes. The psychiatrist notices the up and down pattern—and then produces a new diagnosis of Bipolar (manic-depression) and prescribes other drugs, including Valproate and Lithium. (To see some of the toxic and dangerous effects of these two drugs, read my article, “The lying liars who lie about psychiatry.”)

In the US alone, there are at least 300,000 cases of motor brain damage incurred by people who have been prescribed so-called anti-psychotic drugs (aka “major tranquilizers”). Source: Toxic Psychiatry, Dr. Peter Breggin, St. Martin’s Press, 1991

This psychiatric drug plague is accelerating across the land. Under Obamacare, with psychiatry firmly placed on a par with other branches of medical practice, the plague is going to spread further, as previously uninsured people enter the system.

At the website, “SSRI stories”, you can also read numerous reports of antidepressants’ links to violent behavior, including suicide and homicide. The correlation is not meant to establish a perfect causative chain, but the shocking number of incidents is more than suggestive.

After commenting on some of the adverse effects of the antidepressant drug Prozac, psychiatrist Peter Breggin notes, “From the initial studies, it was also apparent that a small percentage of Prozac patients became psychotic.” Paxil and Zoloft are in the same class of drug as Prozac.

Prozac, in fact, endured a rocky road in the press for a time. Stories on it rarely appear now. The major media have backed off. But on February 7th, 1991, Amy Marcus’ Wall Street Journal article on the drug carried the headline, “Murder Trials Introduce Prozac Defense.” She wrote, “A spate of murder trials in which defendants claim they became violent when they took the antidepressant Prozac are imposing new problems for the drug’s maker, Eli Lilly and Co.”

Also on February 7, 1991, the New York Times ran a Prozac piece headlined, “Suicidal Behavior Tied Again to Drug: Does Antidepressant Prompt Violence?”

In his landmark book, Toxic Psychiatry, Dr. Breggin mentions that the Donahue show (Feb. 28, 1991) “put together a group of individuals who had become compulsively self-destructive and murderous after taking Prozac and the clamorous telephone and audience response confirmed the problem.”

Breggin also cites a troubling study from the February 1990 American Journal of Psychiatry (Teicher et al, v.147:207-210) which reports on “six depressed patients, previously free of recent suicidal ideation, who developed `intense, violent suicidal preoccupations after 2-7 weeks of fluoxetine [Prozac] treatment.’ The suicidal preoccupations lasted from three days to three months after termination of the treatment. The report estimates that 3.5 percent of Prozac users were at risk. While denying the validity of the study, Dista Products, a division of Eli Lilly, put out a brochure for doctors dated August 31, 1990, stating that it was adding `suicidal ideation’ to the adverse events section of its Prozac product information.”

An earlier study, from the September 1989 Journal of Clinical Psychiatry, by Joseph Lipiniski, Jr., indicates that in five examined cases people on Prozac developed what is called akathesia. Symptoms include intense anxiety, inability to sleep, the “jerking of extremities,” and “bicycling in bed or just turning around and around.” Breggin comments that akathesia “may also contribute to the drug’s tendency to cause self-destructive or violent tendencies … Akathesia can become the equivalent of biochemical torture and could possibly tip someone over the edge into self-destructive or violent behavior … The June 1990 Health Newsletter, produced by the Public Citizen Research Group, reports, ‘Akathesia, or symptoms of restlessness, constant pacing, and purposeless movements of the feet and legs, may occur in 10-25 percent of patients on Prozac.’”

The well-known publication, California Lawyer, in a December 1998 article called “Protecting Prozac,” details some of the suspect maneuvers of Eli Lilly in its handling of suits against Prozac. California Lawyer also mentions other highly qualified critics of the drug: “David Healy, MD, an internationally renowned psychopharmacologist, has stated in sworn deposition that `contrary to Lilly’s view, there is a plausible cause-and-effect relationship between Prozac’ and suicidal-homicidal events. An epidemiological study published in 1995 by the British Medical Journal also links Prozac to increased suicide risk.”

When pressed, proponents of these SSRI drugs sometimes say, “Well, the benefits for the general population far outweigh the risk,” or, “Maybe in one or two tragic cases the dosage prescribed was too high.” But the problem will not go away on that basis. A shocking review-study published in The Journal of Nervous and Mental Diseases (1996, v.184, no.2), written by Rhoda L. Fisher and Seymour Fisher, called “Antidepressants for Children,” concludes: “Despite unanimous literature of double-blind studies indicating that antidepressants are no more effective than placebos in treating depression in children and adolescents, such medications continue to be in wide use.”

In wide use. This despite such contrary information and the negative, dangerous effects of these drugs.

Exit From the Matrix

Under Obamacare, mental-health professionals are looking forward to a much larger piece of the “treatment pie.” Huge numbers of previously uninsured people, including vulnerable children, will now move under the psychiatric umbrella, and their futures are at extreme risk.

Psychiatry has deeply troubling similarities to the Surveillance State. It profiles people and labels them. However, it then treats them with highly toxic and dangerous drugs.

In the wake of recent mass killings, Obama has shown his preference for psychiatric treatment in a number of statements. He’s also launched the so-called “brain mapping project,” which aims to detect more “mental problems” that need fixing by drugs and other invasive methods, and he’s promised to establish new community mental-health centers across the nation.

This, taken together with Obamacare, signals a catastrophe, and spells out the need for public resistance.

Jon Rappoport

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at

One-page proof that attributing consciousness to the brain is absurd

One-page proof that attributing consciousness to the brain is absurd

by Jon Rappoport

September 21, 2013

Consider this an open letter to philosophers, brain researchers, physicists, technocrats, Ray Kurzweil, and TED executives who censored lectures on consciousness by Graham Hancock and Rupert Sheldrake.

Conventional science readily admits (insists) that the brain is made of the same particles that constitute everything else in the universe: rocks, chairs, comets, meteors, galaxies.

According to conventional physicists, these particles are not conscious.

Therefore, there is no reason to conclude the brain is conscious.

The brain has no more ability to spawn consciousness than a rock does.

End of story. End of proof.

You’re welcome.

Of course, a few scientists will argue (and many more will privately believe) that, since we humans ARE conscious, this proves the brain is producing consciousness—because, where else could we look for an explanation?

Which is called circular reasoning. Meaning: you already assume what you’re trying to prove. Any first-semester logic student would mark that argument INVALID.

Some scientists, suddenly invoking a brand of mysticism they otherwise deplore, claim the unique complex configuration of particles called the brain somehow—in this one case—has a capacity to break every rule in the book and deliver consciousness.

But no proof, just faith. Supposition.

Finally, you have a sprinkling of renegade physicists who assert that everything in the universe—rocks, chairs, pencils, lamps, trees, stars, galaxies are conscious.

Fine. However, their argument trivializes the brain as the seat of consciousness, because the human arm and leg and thumb and belly button and butt are all conscious, too. In which case, so what?

Exit From the Matrix

Bottom line? All conventional scientific arguments for the brain as the “place of consciousness” are futile and absurd. And this leads to something beyond scientific and philosophic materialism.

It leads to non-material consciousness.

The failure of physicists to admit this is just pure stubbornness, avoidance, and rank denial.

Their only refuge is to deny consciousness exists. Instead, all life is merely mechanical. “Consciousness” is a fake delusion/concept contained in faulty programming, and installing better programming will make humans more “realistic.”

This is the fall-back position of the technocrats, and it enables them to try any and all transhuman experiments, since humans are just machines. Take out this wire, insert that wire.

This brand of technocrat isn’t just a wacko who thinks storing a computer clone of a human brain is storing a human being. No. He’s a rabid Dr. Frankenstein.

Jon Rappoport

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at

Insanity: new Google Glass app will read other people’s emotions

Insanity: New Google Glass app will read other people’s emotions

by Jon Rappoport

August 27, 2013

If you’ve ever studied infomercials, you know the whole business is based on back-end sales. It’s not the product you buy for $19.95, it’s the products they can hook you into after you spend the $19.95.

So it is with Google Glass. It’s all about the apps that’ll be attached.

Glass gives the wearer short-hand reality as he taps in. That’s what it’s for. The user is “on the go.” If he’s driving his Lexus and suddenly thinks about Plato, he’s not going to download the full text of The Republic to mull while he’s crashing into big trucks on the Jersey Turnpike. He’s going to take a shorthand summary. A few lines.

People want boiled-down info while they’re on the move. Reduction. The “essentials.”

This is perfectly in line with the codes of the culture. Ads, quick-hitter seminars, headlines, two-sentence summaries, ratings for products, news with no context. Stripped-down, reduced.

Well, here is a look into right now. A student at Stanford is developing a Google app that “reads other people.”

From SFGate, 8/26, “Google Glass being designed to read emotions”: “The [emotion-recognition] tools can analyze facial expressions and vocal patterns for signs of specific emotions: Happiness, sadness, anger, frustration, and more.” (the SFGate article is also here with videos and images). (and on WIRED Magazine here).

This is the work of Catalin Voss (twitter), an 18-year-old student at Stanford and his start-up company, Sension.

So you’re wearing Google Glass at a meeting and it checks out the guy across the table who has an empty expression on his mug and, above your right eye, you see the word “neutral.” Now he smiles, and the word “happy” appears.

I kid you not. This information is supposed to guide you in your communication. The number of things that can go wrong? Count the ways, if you’re able. I’m personally looking forward to that guy across the table saying, “Hey, you, schmuck with the Glass, what is your app saying about me now? Angry?” That should certainly enhance the communication.

Or a husband, just back from his 12-mile morning bike ride, enters his Palo Alto home, wearing Glass, of course, and as he looks at his wife, who is sitting at the kitchen table reading a book, sees the word “sad” appear above his eye. “Honey,” he says, recalling the skills he picked up in a 26- minute webinar, “have you been pursuing a negative line of thinking?”

She slowly gazes up at the goggle-eyed monster in his spandex and grasshopper helmet, rises from her chair and tosses a plate of hot eggs in his face. YouTube, please!

But wait. There’s more. The Glass app is also being heralded as a step forward in “machine-human relationships.” With recognition services like Google Now and Siri, when computers and human users talk to each other, the computers will be able to respond not only to the content of the user’s words, but also to his tone, his feelings.

This should be a real marvel. As you’ve no doubt already realized, the emotion-recognition tool is all about reduction. It shrinks human feelings to simplistic labels. Therefore, what machines say back to humans will be something to behold.

Machine version of NLP, anyone? I’m predicting a surge in destroyed computers.

The astonishing thing about this new app is that many tech people are so on-board with it. In other words, they believe that human feelings can be broken down and worked with on an androidal basis, with no loss incurred. These people are already boiled down, cartoonized.

You think you’ve observed predictive programing in movies? That’s nothing. The use of apps like this one will help bring about a greater willingness on the part of humans to reduce their own thoughts and feelings to…FIT THE SPECS OF THE MACHINES AND THE SOFTWARE.

Count on it.

This isn’t really about machines acting more like humans. It’s about humans acting like machines.

The potential range of human emotions is extraordinary. Our language, when used with imagination, actually extends that range. It’s something called art.

Exit From the Matrix

The counter-trend is in gear. No matter how subtle the emotion-recognition algorithms become, there will always be a wide, wide gap between what they produce and the expression of humans.

The most profound kind of mind control seeks to eliminate that gap by encouraging us to mimic technology. That means people will think and feel less, and what they think and feel will mean less.

The machines won’t say, “I’m sorry, I can’t identify that emotion, it’s too complex.” They’ll say “sad” or “happy” or “upset” or whatever they have to say to give the appearance that they’re on top of the human condition.

Eventually, significant numbers of people will tailor their self-awareness to what the machines point to, name, label, declare.

Thus, inventing reality.

The wolf becomes a lamb, the lamb becomes a flea.

And peace prevails. You can wear it and see with it.

Eventually, realizing that Glass is too obvious and obnoxious and bulky, companies will develop something they might call Third Eye, a chip the size of half a grain of rice, made flat, and inserted under the skin of the forehead.

Perfect. Invisible. Of course, cops will have them. And talk to them.

I’m parked at the corner of Wilshire and Westwood. Suspicious male standing outside the Harmon Building.”

I see him. Searching relevant data.”

Which means any past arrests, race, conditions noted in his medical records, tax status, questionable statements he’s made in public or private, significant known associates, group affiliations, etc. And present state of mind.

The cop: “Recommendation?”

Passive-aggressive, right now he’s peaking at 3.2 on the Hoover Bipolar scale. Bring subject into custody for general questioning.”

Will do.”

No one will wonder why, because such analysis resonates with the vastly reduced general perception of what reality is all about.

People mimic how machines see them and adjust their human thinking accordingly.

Hand and glove, key and lock. Wonderful.

As the cop is transporting the suspect to the station, Third Eye intercedes: “Sorry, Officer Crane, it took me a minute to dig further. Suspect is business associate of REDACTED. This is a catch and release. Repeat, catch and release. Printing out four backstage passes to Third Memorial Rolling Stones concert at the Hollywood Bowl. Apologize profusely, give subject the tickets, and release him immediately.”

I copy.”

This arrest and attendant communication is being deleted…now.”

Jon Rappoport

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at

And there was a giant standing before him

And there was a giant standing before him

by Jon Rappoport

July 21, 2013

First, there was a memory. His sister reading to him the story of Babel Tower, and the Tower crashing, and new clean rivers flowing…

When he went out all the way, the memory collapsed, and he swept through reefs of reflecting data in an ocean of surveillance.

He tangled in nets and escaped, only to plunge into other layers where avid machinery was spinning, as if searching for crimes where no crimes were possible.

He felt velvet hands and suctioned fingers slide along him, and he grew cold in the submarine depths. He began to panic.

What did the Design want with him?

And why did it seem to be watching itself?

Then the Arctic chill passed, and he knew he was free of the structure, and was genuinely dying, and dying was a pleasure he had never known.

Better,” he said, luxuriating in a dark baronial calm, uterine perfection, summer childhood bedroom closet.

He was suddenly in the cabin of a private jet. He’d been told there would be hallucinations. He saw a team of glass archangels; a China cup worn yellow from a thousand fingers drooping slender cigarettes; a framed photo of Al Capone sitting on the toilet in his Palm Springs suite.

And then identity shattered into a thousand pieces. The lights of an enormous city loomed up under him, pulling the fragments down into liquor stores, newspaper racks, dark alleys, hotel rooms.

A news screen stood out in the black sky. A local anchor, her eyes bright with contempt, relayed the story of a Dr. Ralph Bannion, who had just died falling from an escarpment above the Chicago Loop while attempting to set up a sniper’s nest and kill shoppers in the indoor-outdoor Gangland Mall.

She spoke of a Mr. R. Smith-Jones, a fifth-generation android. He was propped up on a wheelchair-couch in his Manhattan apartment, growling and snarling at his doughy male nurse turned out in a jeans tuxedo and a sombrero made of balloons and artificial peacock feathers, dotted with packing popcorn.

Smith-Jones’ infamous three-year case, tried in the Superior Court of Newfoundland New York, had, it appeared, ground to a halt, when the judge determined Smith-Jones earned the right to multiple classifications of Disabled, and therefore could validly apply for federal benefits in the sum of the 30,000 dollars a month for the rest of his life.

Now Smith-Jones was foaming at the mouth and spitting. He doubled over and a siren went off. A security guard appeared from off-camera with a riot baton and sent a blue fork of electricity into his genitals, quieting him.

The news screen disappeared.

Identity was now a quiet snowstorm in a deserted wood, falling, falling, falling on the hard earth. Relief.

How many times can I disperse, he thought.

He was back in the cabin of the jet. Burnished lights set high in the cabin walls, yellow-brown, old-master, slightly wrinkled. For a moment he missed having wings and being able to fly up to a light and nibble toward its core.

He thought: “I used to own a suit that cost five grand.”

A flight attendant entered his cabin with a vodka rocks.

She was six feet tall and blonde. That made her a target.

Wealthy and powerful men would seek her out.

Her body was sleek. He examined her left leg from wizardly articulated ankle to narrow thigh, through the slit of her sheath skirt. She strode in heels, one foot placed precisely in front of the other.

She set down the drink on the arm of his chair and looked at her watch.

We can’t have sex now,” she said. “We’re east of the Rockies.”

I didn’t realize they had a law,” he said.

Four hours from now,” she said, “we can negotiate a price.”

I’m an attorney,” he said.

She pulled a half-sheet out of her jacket pocket and handed it to him.

Standard,” she said. “Read and sign.”

It stated: “…I am not attempting to elicit information pursuant to an investigation, case, or sentencing option…

He signed.

Just out of curiosity,” he said, “how many layers of protection do you have?”

Well,” she said, “the LA Mayor has a local contract. He supplies police and private soldiers whenever I’m in the city.”

Have they ever had to go on attack?”

A Belivar prince once tried to have his men kidnap me en route from the airport to my hotel. Blackbirton mercs burned them to the ground on Century Boulevard.”


You’re John Q,” she said. “I know. I’m Carol.”

She held out her hand. He looked at her long fingers. Her nails were short. No polish. He shook her hand. It was cool. It immediately became warm, as if she could make it happen.

She sat down next to him.

We’ve intercepted you en route,” she said. “We need you to read something for us. On background. It’s local.”

I was a lawyer,” he said automatically.

You once appeared before the Illinois Supreme Court. We want you to look down into Chicago and find documents pertaining to the pending trial of Jesus Hernandez.”


Defendant in a federal trafficking case. He claims his cartel, Zuma, struck an immunity deal with the CIA. No prosecutions, clean truck routes from Mexico up through LA, all the way to a central distribution hub in Chicago.”

In return for what?”

Good intell on other Mexican cartels.”

What do you want from me?”

Any documents pertaining to immunity. So far, the judge in the case has refused to allow the evidence in trial.”

Documents? You think they put that kind of thing in writing?”

She nodded. “But the defense team claims they have docs.”

He closed his eyes.

Now, Bobby Thoms came to him. The Swan, a bar in the Loop.

The place was jammed with lawyers eating breakfast and waiting for the shape-up in the parking lot. Minor cases were assigned by Ray Banner, a clerk at the Farofax processing facility.

Q grabbed a stool at the end of the counter and ordered coffee. The bartender poured him a cup and set it down in front of him.

Bobby Thoms walked in. He came over.

Dark soiled clothes, as if he’d stripped them from a corpse in an alley. Pinched face, sunken cheeks. A lawyer’s barnacle. Runner, go-between. Supplier of information.

John Q,” Bobby said. “Where’s your vodka?”

I don’t start until eleven.”

Bobby moved in close.

I can get you in to see Judge Hirsch today. His appointment secretary bumped the city treasurer for you.”

Q reached into his pocket and pulled out a tight roll of hundreds. Bobby fielded it and slipped it into his pocket.

A few changes,” Q said.

Bobby nodded. “Here’s the rumor,” he said. I know what you’re after. There are national security implications in this case, John Q. If the shit hits the fan, the president’s administration in Mexico could go down. To say nothing of that other president in Washington.”

John Q snapped back into the jet cabin. Carol was sitting there calmly.

He realized she was trying to protect the government from exposure in the case. They had some way to snap him up in transit. They’d intervened. They wanted to use him because he was unencumbered. He could look into secret places. Free from his ordinary sensorium. They had netted him.

He heard a grinding roar from a long way off.

Sorry,” he said. “I can’t help you.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

Somebody’s coming.”


The roar accelerated. He watched as the cabin spiraled down to the size of a dot of blood on a handkerchief.

The wild sound subsided.

He was in a boat, a wooden boat, at night, and a man was standing next to him. They were on a lake, moving slowly.

The man reminded him of a doctor his mother had taken him to when he was 12 years old. He’d fallen off his bike racing down a steep hill, and the doctor told his mother to stop crying, everything would be all right, it was just a mild concussion.

He looked ahead, and in the distance he saw the lights of the shoreline. He ached for it. He had no idea why. It seemed foolish.

The man said, “Do you want to go there?”

It’s the…music.”

Well,” the man said, “that’s my shore. I made it.”


I dreamed it up. I’m afraid you can’t go. Not now.”

Then Q was alone in the boat, floating in the dark.

It was a warm summer night, like many he had known. He was building it.

Get me to Mosca’s office,” he said.

Sal Mosca conducted his business in a warehouse in Evanston, a few blocks away from the Registrar-DHS complex.

In the center of the lobby, there was a single desk. Video cameras on the walls caught the action from a dozen angles. Familiar scents of dead rotting rats in the walls.

I waited in line, and when my turn came, I handed the security guard a copy of my cert card, mentioned my contact in the DA’s office, and said I had an appointment with Mr. Mosca.

He looked down at his pad, nodded, and handed me a red slip. I stuck it to my jacket, walked over to the elevator bank, and waited.

A door opened. A tall slam in a dark suit stood against the back wall. He was holding a short 40 down at his side. He nodded. I got in. He took my red slip.

We rode up to the 7th floor. The door opened, and two more guards in dark suits stood there. I stepped out.

One of them frisked me. The other one backed away and watched.

They sandwiched me and we walked together down a seashell curving carpeted hallway to a mesh gate. It slid open and we passed through into a small room. Mosca’s secretary, Jenny, sat behind a table.

Hello, John Q,” she said.


I knew her from the county courts, the early days. Cases adjudicated in small offices, fines pieced off among the sharers. During the heavy shortages, we took dinners as bribes. The joke was, a kid out of the U of Chicago defended his mother for an eight-pack of toilet paper.

Jenny made a fist and rapped her knuckles once on the table. I took an envelope out of my inside jacket pocket and placed it in front of her. She picked it up, looked inside, counted the bills, and nodded.

The two security men grabbed my arms and guided me across the room to another door. One of them opened it and moved ahead, into Mosca’s office.

I followed. The other guard was behind me. He shut the door and stood in front of it.

The office was large with no windows. The walls were dull dented metal. The only pieces of furniture were a long white couch and two scarred wooden folding chairs. Bull’s-head Mosca, dressed in his tan suit, sat on the couch. I stayed standing.

Big chest, big belly, cheap shoes. Tired face, but tight skin. He’d been swaddled in the bullrushes of Lake Michigan. Dirty feet running on the stones, foster homes, small-time collector, protection money, law school at night, hired shooters, muscled his way into city government as a private conduit for defense lawyers on major felonies.

Orchid cologne, shaved every night sitting in the bath tub remembering the motor brain damage of his dead sister destroyed by a drug. Blew away the prescribing shrink himself late at night on Cole Boulevard.

Mosca frowned. “This case has tricks.”

Immunity documents,” I said.

Good, John Q. Good.”

Because,” I said, “if it turns out Zuma has a deal with the feds to ship big weight up through Los Angeles into Chicago, and it’s exposed, that torpedoes everybody.”

Mosca nodded. “National security issue. Nothing moves until we get a ruling on it.”

But do the documents exist?”

One does. Signed by the deputy director of the CIA and Hernandez.”

I shook my head. “Hard to believe.”

What happened to you?” Mosca said.

I looked at the guards and slowly put my hand into my left pants pocket. I took out a slip of paper, stepped forward and held it out to Mosca. He took it without touching my hand.

That figure,” I said, “went into your Panama account an hour ago.”

He looked at the slip.

How do you know my account number?” he said.

Ricky Rose gave it to me.”

He just got six years.”

That was my victory. They could have given him twenty.”

Mosca took a cell phone out of his pocket. We waited while he accessed his Panama account.

He looked up at me.

Deposit of fifty thousand dollars, just entered,” he said.

My way of saying thanks for the referral.”

What referral?” he said. “What are you talking about?”

A metaphysical clarification. Let’s talk about immunity at a higher level, Sal. Who is immune? How do they arrive at that status?”

He leaned back and grinned.

Oh, you mean you want the real stuff. Well, Q, understand I’m only a low man on the totem pole. I don’t have many details.”

Then Mosca was standing next to me. He took my arm and walked me to the right, into a kitchen that hadn’t been there before. We exited from a side door and climbed a short flight of steps. He opened another door on to the roof.

The shed,” he said.

In the middle of the roof was a wooden structure.

The padlock was open and hanging from a chain. We stepped inside and Mosca turned on a light. I shut the door. Tools were arranged on shelves. An open cabinet was stacked with brooms and shovels and an old shotgun. We sat down on two rickety chairs.

What I’m telling you is from me,” he said. “This is information I have.”

I know,” I said. “That’s what I paid you for.”

John Q,” he said, “immunity is what you want to know about? It travels higher than the towers of faith. Because faith’s been misappropriated. It’s been, shall we say, directed. Are you following me?

Look at the ancient religions, all you see are wars. You know why? Because the people were still young enough to realize how their loyalty was being betrayed by the priests. So they rose up and slaughtered them. But there’s a new priest born every minute. They have a special facility for hijacking faith, depersonalizing it.

Sometimes it looks like that’s all this planet is. Depersonalized faith. That’s the Atlas holding up the world. And now he’s watching and spying, to make sure it stays intact.”

A canyon opened up under me. Another Earth, like this one. I caught a glimpse and it shut down, closed its mouth.

Q,” Mosca said, “I assign cases to lawyers. I’m a bit player. I’m an ant on blacktop. I move a few crumbs here, a few crumbs there. Immunity is created by fiat, just like money. It’s deal-making…”

Morris Gold’s office,” I said.

I stepped out of a car. Bobby, who was driving, also got out. He handed the keys to a parking robot and strolled off toward the American Airlines sports book. I crossed the sidewalk and stopped in front of a cast-iron door. I rang the bell. I was standing under a video camera.

A voice said, “Name, please.”

I held up my cert card.

Carrying any weapons?” the voice said.


Just a minute.”

They were running a body scan. I waited.

What case does this pertain to?” the voice said.



Here for a consult.”

The door buzzed. I opened it and walked in.

I was in a pitch-black space.

As my eyes adjusted, the lights slowly rose to dim. I was inside a wire cage.

The same disembodied voice said, “Where did you attend law school?”

University of Michigan.”

Your thesis adviser’s name?”

Professor Morris Gold.”

And the title of the thesis?”

Currents in Pre-Trial Hearings.”

The grid in front of me clicked and moved from left to right. I stepped through.

I was standing in a foyer. The carpet under my shoes was thick.

A tall heavy-set man appeared from my right. “Follow me,” he said. He opened a door and we were facing an open elevator. He motioned and I stepped in ahead of him. He followed and the door closed. We ascended silently for a few seconds. The elevator came to a smooth stop. The door opened. A short man in a very expensive suit stood there. His head was clean shaven and he wore a pair of sunglasses high on his forehead.

They’re for the light,” Morris said. “I have a condition.” He stuck out a meaty paw and I shook it. He smiled.

I walked with him down a hallway into a corner office.

Floor-to-ceiling windows. His two-ton oak desk sat in the center of the room. There were hunting prints and paintings of horses and cottages on cornflower-blue walls.

He didn’t offer me a seat. I stood. He stood.

John Q,” he said, “Are you trying to file suit because you’re in transit?”

No,” I said.

Because you were scooped up?”


He smiled. “Good. Nothing worse than a sore loser. So what can I do for you after all this time?”

His eyes were cold.

Exit From the Matrix

I framed my question. “Is a deity in on the fix?” I said. “Any deity?”


That’s a powerful issue,” he said. “You want to know the theoretical upper limit on immunity? Well, let’s start here. Here’s your lesson for the day. The God you’re probably referring to is the one whose existence is an open question for each soul.

A question. A dream. A thought. A derivation. A decision. The other, shall we say, constructed God-name and function are corporatized. I’ve worked cases where the issue was raised. The courts have always blurred distinctions, because that’s their job.”

And on appeal?”

The judges rubber stamp the lower courts.”

But because you have wide experience in these cases?” I said.

Gold walked back behind his desk and sat down.

You tell people,” he said, “they’re heroes or they’re committing heresy, they buy it either way. Depending who’s doing PR and organization for you.”

But what is it actually?” I said.

Listen,” Gold said. “You were a smart boy in law school. Too smart. Now you’re dead and you’re lingering. Loitering. Get on with it. You should have stayed with the man in the boat.”

I don’t think there are any more shoulds, Morris.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. But this is all college dormitory jerking. Why did you come to see me?”

It’s probably just a fetish on my part. A little tour of old friends and bastards.”

He laughed. “Sentimental journey, right? Did you know the configuration of the Surveillance State is an Atlas holding up the world? When you really see the whole architecture? And the document you’re looking for is hidden, along with at least a million other docs, inside a bead of sweat on Atlas’ forehead?”

Then I guess I want to kill Atlas,” I said.

Yes,” he said. “You would.”

What are my options? I can’t take him to court.”

You have to look, John Q. Look hard.”

A sheet of slow lightning swam up my legs and infiltrated my spine. It narrowed. It nuzzled and burned, on the way up, each bone, sheath, nerve fiber.

At the top of the channel, I reached out and removed the top of Morris’ skull. It came away clean and out rolled a small creek of dusty tears.

I was standing in a courtroom open to the sky. I was behind the prosecution table.

And there was a giant standing before me.

I was facing Atlas in the dock. His head was barely visible, an imprint behind a cloudbank. The whole set up was absurd, but I persisted. It was moviemaking on a shoestring.

I was searching for my opening.

I was searching for words.

I was building words.

In an unknown language.

It seemed the only way to do it.

I was translating incomprehensible text into silent sounds, rehearsing them.

Sounds that would vibrate tectonic plates, if necessary, that would split the seams of the fabricated sewn-up sky.

When I was ready, when I was confident, as I’d been a thousand times before judges and juries, I began talking, suddenly knowing that every syllable would break open a wound in the cartilage and penetrate to capillaries, arteries, and organs.

Every case had been a symptom, and every verdict a palliative. This one was the kernel of the original dream.

I spoke and I heard a sound of upper crashing, at long, long distance.

The slow fall.

It might take centuries, but it was irreversible.

There was a crowd in the courtroom. An Ensor painting of masked faces. They lined up around me.

In the front circle, I could see Bobby Thoms, Carol, Sal Mosca, and Morris Gold. They were grinning and laughing.

They were letting me know my whole objective was paper-thin. I would never win. It was a farce.

It was…a question of faith.

If my dying, when I boiled it down, consisted of staring at the legs of an Atlas and searching for telltale tremors of a terminal illness…

If I woke in my office on Michigan Avenue and realized I was still handling cases in superior court, that I was alive on Earth, that I was late for an arraignment, that I was still John Q, dancing on the end of a long string, defending a Zuma trafficker out of Mexico City…

I waited. I stood and waited.

I waited to see.

I waited a long time…

The crowd slowly disintegrated.

I looked at the walls of the courtroom. They, too, were fading.

But there was a silent depersonalized giant standing before me.

He remained.

He was watching the world, making sure all non-human factors were in place and spinning, functioning. He was the machine and the architecture of spying. Surveillance. He was the exemplar of no-dream. He was the stand-in for life and death. He was the soldier. The robot other planetary civilizations would see when they looked at Earth from space. The mechanical dinosaur in a roadside rest stop. No awareness of me. No awareness of anything.

Nobody. Nobody at all. Just a clock on the wall wound up to eat the universe.

I heard the long faraway crashing sound again.

I’d heard that sound in a dream when I was boy, after my sister read me the story of the Tower of Babel, which I imagined was a great fort holding soldiers.

The Tower went down, and in the endless number of languages liberated, I found my own river.

And those words were streaming out of me now.

I was cut loose, floating in the afternoon of new sounds.

As if…if we began to speak in ways that were alive, finally, if this were our invention, there would be nothing to spy on, there would be no machine that could interpret our meaning.

Jon Rappoport

The author of two explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED and EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at

Update: a perspective on Facebook shutting down my links

Update: a perspective on Facebook shutting down my links

by Jon Rappoport

February 20, 2013

Our systems are safe and sound. This goes all the way from blog posts to the ordering pages for my products.

The only issue is Facebook shutting down the capacity to post links with “” in them. We have solved that on our Facebook page by directing people to my site instead,

At the site, people will see the list of my recent articles, and they can click on them and move directly to my blog posts. You, too, can direct people to

How did the limited Facebook censorship occur? It could have been triggered by people making untrue “spam” or “abusive content” reports. These would have been people who couldn’t stand the heat of analysis that was deeper than what they were looking for.

They could have been paid trolls or agents. They could have been people with partisan political views and no understanding of, or loyalty to, the 1st Amendment.

Or the “Facebook team” might have taken it upon themselves to limit access to my wordpress links, because Facebook is partnered with political players and intelligence agencies, and they decided I was too critical of current government/corporate agendas.

The main thing is my articles continue to go out, and people are reading them. NoMoreFakeNews has grown considerably over the past six months.

I thank you for your support and interest.

If you want to help me and yourself, too, consider ordering my products, which you will find in my store at nomorefakenews. I believe in giving value for value, and over the last 10 years I have been offering all the value I can assemble and report on.

My frequent articles are free to everyone. My products, which explore even deeper layers, are dedicated to exposing every aspect of the Matrix and offering solutions which involve returning to each one of us our power.

When I say power, I mean extraordinary innate creative capacities. It turns out, on analysis, that our civilization and the reality that underpins it are “subnormal.” What each one of us is capable of—as extraordinary as that is—is really a normal state of affairs.

It is just that we have forgotten what we can do.

That is why I started nomorefakenews, and my path and purpose remain the same now. I continue to research individual power and what it means and what it is and how far we can go with it.

I see no limit.

This is the great adventure. It always was.

Changing this world for the better, in all the ways it can be done, also relies on each one of us regaining and expanding our inherent and buried capabilities.

Again, many thanks for your interest and support. It means a great deal to me.

Back in the day, when I was writing for newspapers and magazines, I had a nagging feeling I was only applying about 5 percent of my energy to it. All in all, it was rather amusing to consider I was making strides in that arena deploying so little of what I could do.

Then I realized what really motivated me was not possible to report on, given the bias and fear of editors. So I quit.

In those days, there was no Internet. If you wanted to “get the word out,” you had to find your own way. In my case, I gave lectures, and a fabulous two-person outfit called She Who Remembers often showed up and taped those talks and turned out audiocassettes.

The tapes worked their way around the US and even into other countries. It was makeshift, and very exciting.

Then, the Internet emerged. It took me a while to leave my, yes, typewriter behind, but I forced myself out of the Stone Age and on to what everybody was then proudly calling The Information Highway.

I took a few test drives and loved it. The idea that I could write a piece and then publish it in a matter of seconds was sheer ecstasy, given that I was used to pitching stories to editors, getting the green light, then writing, then submitting, then waiting, then finally seeing my stories in print weeks or even months later.

Now, a decade later, the old media are dying. They’re gasping for air. Internet technology is always cited as the cause, and of course that’s true, but even more than that, those of us who investigate and report without crippling restraints are covering material that millions of people want to know about.

The Matrix Revealed

One of the two bonuses in THE MATRIX REVEALED is my complete 18-lesson course, LOGIC AND ANALYSIS, which includes the teacher’s manual and a CD to guide you. I was previously selling the course for $375. This is a new way to teach logic, the subject that has been missing from schools for decades.

Major media refuse to cover what we cover. They are sold out to the point where they simply can’t. That’s what’s really squeezing them. They have no choice. They’re trapped. Exactly what could give them a renaissance of audience interest is what they can’t touch, because their masters won’t allow it.

One of our jobs today is making sure the Internet remains free enough to allow us to keep working and publishing and reaching the global population. Waking up to new realities is not that hard to do now. We just have to keep the channels open.

The other day I wrote and published a piece headlined: “The Ruthless State of the Union: the current crime boss speaks.” That may have been the article that triggered the Facebook Blip. In it, I responded to Obama’s statement that, in order to make progress we all had to work together.

I asked, who is this WE he keeps talking about?

Well, in the case of keeping the Internet free and open, the far more important WE is you, I, and everybody else who accesses online information that trumps old, stale, decaying propaganda reality.

This WE is taking over the news and, at the same time, creating a different world, the one we’ve all been wanting for a long time.

And this is just the beginning.

Jon Rappoport

The author of an explosive collection, THE MATRIX REVEALED, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at