For people who have been following us that have not read my book, I’m going to start telling you a little bit about myself and the best way to do that is to just start publishing little pieces of my book. I wrote it right after the Skinwalker piece, after people I know started turning up dead; shot in the head from the backseat of their cars, just like they used to in the bad old days. I figured let me put this down for posterity and after consulting with the guy whom everybody knows was the one doing the shooting, I did with his blessing. I was very careful not to provide any evidence or hearsay that would have implicated him, but he didn’t seem to care. Maybe he knew what I didn’t, he always did. He would be dead himself shortly after the books completion.
Although after the book was done, I kept telling him to read it before it was published he never did. He never wanted to, even though one wrong sentence could have put him in jail for the rest of his life, after he helped me write it, calling me all the time to make suggestions…
He had even implored me to just self publish after strangely enough, or at least I thought so at the time, I couldn’t get it published. Now you all know I can write a little. Non-fiction, with the subject matter it deals with, backed by a plethora of eyewitnesses and municipal records? The Manhattan publishing houses should have been in a bidding war over it. I even started out; or rather he started his career as the most feared man to ever walk the streets of NYC, with what really happened with the Amityville Horror, minus a few facts, like how Jim told me who was up there with Butchy. Later I heard Jim died as soon as I began writing the book, so that didn’t matter either. Anyway I figured instant best seller and movie. Instead I couldn’t get any of the top publishing houses to touch it, even though I wrote a query I knew would get a dead man’s attention. I couldn’t understand it until the offices of Suzanne Gluck sent me back a partial manuscript certified mail at their own expense. This is never done in the publishing industry. You wouldn’t be in business very long. Inserted in the manuscript, maybe by accident, was a memo from Samantha Frank, Office of Suzanne Gluck to Madelyn Knaster, Office of Courtney Braun. It said “Per our conversation – please find attached a very odd query we received in the mail today. I just wanted to make sure we have a record of receiving it. Please let me know if you have any questions.”
I stopped trying to get it published after that. I had started writing for Veterans Today and by then I knew what a National Security letter is. So for your enjoyment (and mine) and all the people who are dead (Marlena, Phil, John, Jimmy and Jim as it stands right now that I know of) as a result of me writing it, some the best friends I ever had, Orage will be publishing excerpts from it that are pertinent, as we give a detailed elucidation of the science, the real science, the ancient science that the “sub-creatures,” the “Untermensch,” the chickens in this “chicken farm,” were never supposed to know…
Note: Federal Copyright by Jack Heart © 2013. Citations of this material for review purposes only.
THOSE WHO WOULD AROUSE LEVIATHAN
By Jack Heart
As I studied all this I began to notice bright green hairs growing from my head. I plucked them out and never told anyone until now. The day finally rolled around where I would start my sentence. I popped about a dozen valiums and met Wolf in court to appear before Judge Vaughn and be remanded to the Suffolk County Jail. Vaughn was a pompous pig of a man, corpulent and red faced from years of alcohol abuse. Everyone had informed me that he was Suffolk County’s ‘Hanging Judge.’ He thought he was going to lecture me. I ended up lecturing him. Wolf told me later he had never seen anyone get away talking to Vaughn the way I did. With the price of admission I was paying I was going to get my money’s worth. I was sent to the ‘Farm’ where I slept for two days. When I finally woke up I was called out of the dorm and met by a corrections officer who was a fan of my sister; Reinhardt Heydrich. The corrections officer had me moved to the kitchen dorm and gave me a pack of cigarettes.
There were about a hundred guys crammed into a single ‘dorm’ with no air conditioning. There were six dorms for inmates in the Yaphank barracks. Most of the inmates slept on double bunks. There were about a dozen single bunks in the back of each dorm for the most part equally divided amongst the Black and White sections. The kitchen dorm was infested with roaches and mice and smelled like shit and used socks. They gave me the bottom of a double bunk in the front, but for the next two days I stayed by the glass encased corrections officer station up all night reading under its lights. I had a new book to go along with my mother’s new boyfriend; Marty Myers, who owned Total Health, the intellectual hub of Long Islands Occult and New Age movements.
The book was titled ‘The Greatest Story Never Told: A Scientific Inquiry into the Evidence of the Fall of Man from a Higher Civilization in Antiquity.’ It was signed by its author Lana Corrine Cantrell, written as a thesis for a medical degree and privately published as a book. It now sells on Amazon for over a thousand dollars for a used copy. Cantrell uses her medical training along with a thorough exegesis of the Vedas and insights derived from Zecharia Sitchin’s interpretations of Sumerian cuneiform to present a theory that mans actual life span should be about a thousand years, the same as the biblical patriarchs. Cantrell makes a medically documented case that the original skin color of the human race is green and that the different races all suffer from having adapted to breathing an oxygen depleted atmosphere, forcing their blood to turn from its original copper rich blue to red. All three races; Mongoloid, Negroid, and Caucasian, suffer from various afflictions due to a shortage of copper in the bloodstream. Caucasians are the worst. The afflictions are even more pronounced the lighter the skin gets. Cantrell points out hieroglyphic tracts that talk about the Pharaohs sending in their shock troops which they called ‘the kilted ones.’ Cantrell also has a doctorate in archeology. She uses her medical and archeological training to produce a lucid argument that the kilted ones were the ancestors of the Celts. In the pre-diluvian age human civilization was concentrated in the Mesopotamian and Indus valleys. There the Caucasian was bred only for war. It is Cantrell’s contention that the White man’s aggressive disposition, which is symptomatic of his medical condition, makes him an unsuitable ruler of the world.
I only had to run the big industrial dish washer after each meal and I was allowed to take whatever I wanted from the kitchen which was loaded with fresh produce from their farm in Yaphank. Just when I was starting to think it wouldn’t be too bad, some big Black guy comes over to me and tries to give me a mop and a bucket telling me “I’m the dorm rep Mr. Floyd. Everyone who comes in this dorm has to take a turn cleaning the bathroom.” I said “first of all Floyd you better forget about me ever calling you Mr. And if you don’t get out of here with that mop I’m going to be forced to beat you to death with it.” It started a big thing in the dorm but some of the Black guys in there knew me from the streets and advised Floyd, an ex-sergeant from the Vietnam War who had the younger kids calling him “Sergeant Floyd”, that I was extremely dangerous. I told him that he could not be the dorm rep anymore because I was. He could be second in charge. Actually I had went in there with every intention of beating the fuck out of the first suitable victim and when Floyd showed up waving that mop around, I figured he was volunteering for the job. I then made an announcement to the dorm that I would be taking a single bunk in the back and I didn’t care which side it was on. Saying “you all look like sub creatures to me!” The White guys quickly made me one. The one little shrimp who had to be moved to a double bunk objected, but he wasn’t even worth swatting. I put him down to be dealt with later.
My behavior was causing a furor amongst the Blacks, who made up the majority of the dorm. At the time, the Five Percent Nation of Islam was taking America’s prison population by storm and the kitchen dorm contained all the ones that had juice in Suffolk County and weren’t going upstate for long ‘bids.’ They were insisting to Floyd that he must represent the Black race against me in a death match in the basement of the kitchen. I told them anyone who thought they could do it was welcome to go down in that basement with me, but Floyd was the only one with any real balls. The next day he did and they locked the door behind us. I knew he didn’t want to fight me so when we got down the steps I said to him “you know Floyd these guys are fucking crazy. Where the fuck they think they are? Attica? Yea me and you should kill each other in the basement and one of us will die and one of us will catch a body. I say we go back up there and tell them that we are co dorm reps now.” Floyd liked that idea. He was scheduled to be released in two weeks anyway. So that’s just what we did. My first official act as ‘co dorm rep’ was to have the little shrimp White guy who had objected to my taking his single bunk beaten up and thrown out of the dorm by the Blacks. They liked this and it helped loosen racial tensions in the dorm considerably.
I started an intense regiment of training with a couple of Black guys and a couple of White guys. In no time I was doing a thousand pushups between chairs and a thousand dips between the bunks along with about a dozen sets of curls with up to two hundred pounds and other weight training in the yard every day. It wasn’t long before every young stud in the dorm was trying to keep up with me. Nobody could. Martial arts were practiced in the bathroom, out of sight of the correction officers, with a lot of Black guys remarking about how glad they were that they had not tried me when I first came in the dorm. Keeping in mind that I had actually grown a couple of green hairs not a month earlier and that I had also seen the one time Eric injected heroin with us his blood was blue, I kept reading that book supplementing it with everything Nietzsche and Plato ever wrote.
Yaphank Correctional Facility became my personnel kingdom just like the strip clubs had been. But this one had corrections officers, so I had no use for violence in this kingdom. I didn’t need it anyway. I controlled the food for all six hundred inmates. Once again everyone was “trying to please me.” I had four lockers; one was filled with cigarettes and one with pornography. When you wanted to jerk off, I gave you something from the ‘library’ and told the other inmates to keep out of the bathroom. You gave me some cigarettes. I had a very extensive pornography collection, because everyone who was leaving the jail gave whatever they had to me. I found a Hustler Magazine that featured as its centerfold a woman that looked just like Dianne doing it from a kneeling position on top of the guy. I didn’t lend that one out. That one I used personally, every day, a half dozen times a day. I would like to say that the correction officers at some point started looking at me strangely, but they had been looking at me strangely ever since I had come through the gates. One day they took me out of the dorm for what they said was some kind of routine examination. The examination lasted for hours with one woman ‘doctor’ questioning me as to every facet of my life before I had come in there. She was particularly interested to know how I had gotten the scar across my left rib cage. The scar I had from my communing with the leprechaun on the night after I had stomped Annie V. I lied to her, which I never do to anyone. I figured fuck these ‘people!’ I knew what the game was now and I also knew that they weren’t supposed to be making the rules, I was. I didn’t take any drugs nor even smoke pot during all the time I was in there. Not that there wasn’t plenty of stuff available. The Bay Rats had even brought me some pot during one of their visits to me. I took a couple of hits out of a joint and I gave the rest away. I knew I was ‘metastasizing’ and I didn’t want anything interfering.
Every night after Muslim prayer the Five Percenters would spread their prayer rugs in a circle and do what they called ‘knowledge lectures’ for hours. They never played cards or did any of the frivolous stupid things that the White guys did that I refused to participate in. I heard them calling each other Gods and I was fascinated. I told them that what they believed in and what I believed in was basically the same thing. Aleister Crowley had taught that every man and woman is the terrestrial manifestation of a star. We are all Gods. We are all stars. There was about thirty of them and at least twenty wanted ‘me to be the first White man to ever sit in on a knowledge lecture.’ The ones that objected objected because I ate pork and ‘I was a white blue eyed devil.’ I pointed out to them that I had brown eyes, that a couple of them had blue eyes, and the book I had been reading every day like it was a Bible said exactly the same thing about White people being human devils. They told me to wait two days, that ‘Knowledge’ was coming in on the next transport from upstate and they would have to ask him. He was an acknowledged spiritual leader of the Five Percent Nation of Islam. When Knowledge came in the dorm a couple of days later I was not disappointed.
He was an extremely intelligent and articulate brother. He told me he had been hearing about me upstate and he would be glad to have me sit in on the knowledge lectures but I had to stop eating pork. I asked him what the big deal was about eating pork and he told me that ‘the pig is genetically modified from a human being and that eating pork was the same as being a cannibal.’ Cantrell had been saying the same thing in her book but she was saying it backwards, as I was told. Cantrell was saying that the human had been genetically modified from the pig and that evolutionists deliberately lied about this when they claimed that apes were human’s closest relatives in the animal family. She proves her point about pigs being closest to man genetically beyond a shadow of a doubt when she points out that only pig organs can be successfully transplanted into humans. I wanted to hear the rest of the knowledge lectures and I certainly didn’t want to unnecessarily be a cannibal, so that was the last day in my life that I have ever deliberately eaten pork or anything cooked with it.
The basic premise of the Five Percenters was that Islam is the religion of the ‘natural man’ but not that all Muslims were Gods. They believed that ‘only five percent could ever be a God.’ That ‘the Gods must rule over the others.’ It was similar to what the Spartans believed about other Greeks which the Spartans called Helots. Only Five Percenters did not believe that a man’s ability to be a God was passed through lineage like the Spartans. In fact Knowledge when pressed could not say with certainty whether a man even had to be Muslim or Black to be a God. This was ‘why I was sitting in on the lectures.’ The first thing he did when he got to Yaphank was to ban the praying by those who were in ‘the Nation.’ He told them “a God does not grovel before another God.” In The Secret Gospel of Thomas Jesus tells his disciples “if you pray you will be condemned.” Then he tells them “Do not tell lies, and do not do what you hate, for all things are plain in the sight of heaven.” Heaven knows who you are and what you want.
I was told that ‘at one time before the White man’s history the Black man ruled over the earth but he ruled haughtily. His punishment for this is the current epoch of bad karma and the White man’s subjugation of the Black man. This epoch will soon be coming to an end and the Black man shall once again assume his rightful place on the thrones of the earth.’ All over the southern foot of the Mexican valley giant stone heads of brooding Black kings have been unearthed. They are fixed with defiant stares as if daring the defilers of history to explain them. Many of the stone heads have been disfigured and deliberately buried by their proceeding Mayan populations as if having committed some unforgivable crime. I told them what I knew that verified what Knowledge was teaching them. Sometimes I would speak for long periods during the knowledge lectures and it was the most comfortable I ever was among a group of people. I stopped combing and cutting my hair because no natural man does these things as indicated by the story of Samson and Delilahin the Bible. This was not a rule. There weren’t really any rules for a God, only that ‘he must conduct himself at all times with dignity.’
Somewhere during all this Phil came into the jail. His first meal was snuck in on the food cart, a twelve pound eye round roast beef cooked to perfection by a corrections officer cook just for the occasion. I sent notice to the dorm rep of the dorm he was in that Phil was to be extended every courtesy they could think of and that whoever thought of extra courtesies would get extra food. I only saw Phil maybe once or twice while he was there, because to see him I had to deliver a food cart. When I did he told me “I’m tired of Richey’s gangster shit. He’s now clearing over a hundred thousand dollars a week and what is he giving us? A couple? I found a really hot looking barmaid named Janine. Your really gonna like her. Me and her are getting an apartment. My mothers on her own and so are you. You don’t need me there. Go back and get Dianne. That’s all you want out of those places anyway. I took a truck load of fireworks from Joey already and he ain’t getting a dime. I am going to try to get more as soon as I get out of here. They can consider that my severance pay. When I took over that agency for them they were supposed to give a real union and real benefits to the dancers. Now they’re not even paying the new girls. Their only working for tips. My father was a union man. I should shoot both of them right through the fucking head. But I know you got to go back there. I’m only staying until then. You get out of here you’re on your own. I’m out of there!” I tried to talk him out of it but Phil was adamant. He said “they think this is a fucking monopoly game and the one with all the money left at the end wins. They replaced you on weekends with ‘Sergeant Slaughter’ from the World Wrestling Federation and another guy named Mark Tendler who used to be Bruno Samartinos tag team champion partner. Richey bills them as guest bouncers. All they do is sit in the corner all night. Jimmy is the only real bouncer. They’re going to get me killed. I’ll be leaving before that even comes close to happening. Tell Richey John’s your new partner. One day Richey’s not going to be able to get his key in the lock because someone broke a toothpick off in it.”
Every night a brilliant star would remain suspended over the Black section in the overhead windows around the top of the dorm walls. The hotter it got that summer the brighter the star seemed to burn. Everyone asked me what star it was but I had no answers for them. No one slept until it was really late and I never seemed to at all. I read all night by flashlight. One night when I was the only one up in the dorm I glanced up from my reading and noticed all the lights were out in the hallway and in the correctional officer booth. Beyond the bars that sealed the front of the dorm there were shadowy figures moving around in the darkness. There must have been at least a half dozen of them. They were dancing widdershins just like the dwarf I had seen when I was a small boy. I wasn’t the only one who had saw this, some of the Five Percenters also had. One told me confidentially “I always wake up late every night when everyone else is sleeping. I have seen stuff here with the walls where things are just in the wrong places. I have never been so scared in my life. I don’t want to know what’s going on in here. I just want to do my time and get far away from here.” We were speaking right under the observation booth and I heard the corrections officer inside answer the phones incessant ringing. He said “Anti Christ.”
When my uncle and my cousin Andrew finally came for me in the middle of August, I was ready for anything but I had only one order of business. I remember I hardly said a word. I watched out the window as the sweltering heat bore us westbound on the Long Island Expressway. I put on my Walkman and listened to Rocket Queen. I had been introduced to Appetite For Destruction by some of the younger White guys while I was in Yaphank. I knew I was expected to follow the script, but so was she and at the end of that song which was the end of the album she gave it up to me.
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Those Who Would Arouse Leviathan: Memoir of an awakening god Paperback – January 5, 2021