Future Dread: A Prologue (to the fatal rebirth of Man)


Prologue from the book, Fatal Rebirth, by H. Michael Sweeney, (which in 1999 predicted the WTC being brought down by jet liners and resulting in Middle East Oil Wars). Note: the prologue is not where such details are introduced, though it is hinted at.

Permissions granted to duplicate this post in its entirety complete with special discount offer at page bottom and with all links in tact, but please advise having done so as a comment to this blog (or to me by email to proparanoid at century link net), which will further serve to send readers to your pages.

Future Dread: A Prologue

The streets of New York in the fall of 1999 were brisk. Brisk weather to be sure; it was both cold and windy, people tugged at their coat collars and hunched their shoulders to keep their necks warmly covered. Brisk also the foot traffic, both because it was cold enough to demand reasonable haste, and because to most New Yorkers, there is always a sense of urgency in the crowd. But amid the sea of bustle, one lone figure stood out, a solitary human island seemingly unaware of either the weather or the crowd’s urgency. Yet this assumption would be false. Though he stood patiently, virtually an obstacle to the pulsing crowds that flowed steadily past him, he had his own kind of desperate urgency. He was on a sacred mission.

Even from a distance he could be easily picked out of the sea of dispassionate humanity; his was the only head not bobbing to and fro. Too, there was his poster board sign. Its message indiscernible, it danced atop the carpet of undulating heads as if obeying some steady rhythm of its own; high, then low, turning briefly, then back and high once more. The sign was tracking people unfortunate enough to have made eye contact with the man. The belief was that it made it easier for them to read. All it really seemed to do was to intimidate them, and cause them to give wider berth.

Nearer, one large word could be read upon the sign, but it was madness, the kind of word rejected out of hand by reasonable people, and especially by people in a hurry, and even more so if they were New Yorkers. They had already seen every bizarre thing the city could offer, and generally knew when some kind of repeat performance was threatening their psyche. Better to tune it out than to think about it. After all, who wants to wonder about…

DOOMSDA Y!

Closer, the man can be heard ranting at the crowd, chastising them with his message of terrible doom. Regardless, it was meaningless to those asleep in their own thoughts of the day, of deeds already done or things yet undone. No time for abstract words hung in the air like so many taxi cab horns; far too easy to ignore, his unwanted words were a mere murmuring amongst the city’s noise. No reason to pay attention, to turn on the brain and listen or to actually think about what was being said; noisy distractions such as these have no value to those in a hurry.

Closer yet, he was fully revealed as the crowd parted to avoid him, and he somehow exploded into the consciousness against one’s natural will. His stark white robe and turban, and a long white beard gave him a glowing reality in the noonday sun. Hard on the eyes but even harder to turn away, seizing attention as if by gunpoint. Something about his eyes, perhaps, or his dark leathery skin, or just the fierceness in his expression. His intensity and sincerity were cocked and aimed as effectively as a menacing handgun.

Now, his words penetrated despite the crowd’s happy apathy, and the sign accentuated without remorse. The would-be passerby was accosted with certainty, and was forced to decide: pretend not to see him, or actually dare to contemplate him. He shouted his message, a hint of foreign dialect adding a scary flavor: For many, this broke any remaining will to ignore, and briefly thrust them into his reality.

“Heed my words! The judgment of the God of Abraham is upon us! Repent for your sins! The Tribulation is at hand! I have seen the vision! The Year 2000 will usher in the Antichrist! There will be seven years of terror and tribulation, wars between nations and great religions, and then shall rise Gog and Magog! I have seen the vision! The towers of civilization will fall and thousands will perish! Millions will die soon after! Repent and be saved! I have seen the vision!”

The simple message was repeated, the enthusiasm seemingly greater than before, and it is echoed in the sign’s details ‘Tribulation comes! Beware the Antichrist! Repent and be saved!The letters were large and black, but of childish quality, making it easier for some to discount their meaning. The absurdity of a man dressed like a Middle-East Cleric using Christian-sounding slogans gave others reason to ignore what, to them, was simply another New York moment.

People largely pretended not to see him, or to hear his words, and increased their pace in order to insure he did not think they had. Those who did give him attention promptly decided they did not subscribe; they looked away quickly as they walked around him and even ducked to ignore the sign which seemed to follow them briefly. A few, mostly the young and unemployed, spat or cursed at the man, or even lashed out physically to intimidate him. Undaunted, he continued. He was on a mission. He had seen the vision.

Unconvinced, the crowd passed by and quickly reacquired their original purpose, course, and close-mindedness.

No. They did not subscribe. They didn’t have time. Not then. But little did they know that the future held enough terror for them that they might have been better off to stop, to listen, and to heed. Indeed, the wheels were already set in unstoppable motion, turning through time much faster than anyone would wish; irresistible and undeniable gears in the clockworks of prophesy. Not just Biblical, but also, Satanic prophesies wrought real in the Shadows of the Northwoods of ancient realms. New York City would soon have its private little doomsday.

Towers would fall, thousands would perish. And that was only the beginning. It would be called the beginning of a war. Some, those perhaps more wise… in some cases more guilty than most… would say the beginning of the end. But that was not quite right, either. It was, more correctly, to be the beginning of the End Game Scenario…

For some, the actual countdown had begun a decade earlier. For others, it was four decades earlier, and earlier still for yet others — much earlier. It seems that a Shadow is a fleeting thing only when exposed to the truth men call light. Yet a Shadow able to live in darkness moves slowly and methodically, and is free to set its own timetables with the luxury of decades, or even centuries, to allow for their unfolding. When immortal, and working through the greed of man, time is a plaything. It whispers a word… ‘Illuminati.’

Darkness, you see, has a special patience. It waits so easily. It waits for you and for me until it is our time, much like a poisonous spider awaits its meals. And when, like a fly caught in a web, we are suddenly taken by our waiting spider without warning, without recourse, only just then will we understand our role as victim. Yet even so, we will fail to understand how we came to our fate. We never saw the cunning, the deceit, the dark plans. We never understood the true meaning of all that had led us to the moment.

Our eagerness to center on self was the bait used to lure us too near the web. Our blindness to truth was the web spun to ensnare us, and to wrap us into neat little meals surrounded by silken lies. Our petty hatreds and prejudices, and fears were the poisons which paralyzed us. In such a state, we were tender morsels ready to be consumed. Yea, some of us were even unaware well after the meal had begun. Devoured in a dumbed-down bliss, blind to the pain of bitter truth, perhaps they were the lucky ones after all.

So it is with the ultimate Shadow form, the one who had been working in darkness since before Adam and Eve. So it is with his finely crafted web, one spun ever larger and more infallible over the centuries. So it is with his deft application of our favorite poisons, dividing us for the final conquering. The whole of the effort had only one goal; End Game was one of his best and most anticipated plans… and unfortunately, by its inevitable workings, our time is now. Drink the poison deeply, and enjoy it while you can…

… for the final sleep is almost upon us all.

***

Special note to the reader: If you like the above, you may also wish to read a glimpse of the Introduction from the four-book set. I am also pleased to make a dramatic discount offer to my blog readers, and I hope you will appreciate my reasoning, because I am also lifting copyright restrictions to allow you to share with friends (CDR version, only):

If you would like to SAVE UP TO 70% OFF THE REGULAR PRICE, then simple please rate, and share this blog page. You may order the ebook of Fatal Rebirth, History Revealed (covers crimes of the NOW/Intelligence Community from 1947 into the near future, making all our darker historical moments more easily understood as stepwise logical moves toward a specific goal) for JUST $4 via PayPal (click to order, specifying payment to proparanoid at century link net), for a savings of $11 over the regular price.

Or, you may order all four volumes for only $12, a savings $47. Volume II is story line from Sept. 11 forward into yet more of our near future and contains additional specific predictions of terror and related events. Volume III is the final outcome should Shadow win (End Game), and Volume IV, the most important, is the final outcome should we do the right things to prevent it. There is also a special CDR offer, below.

I don’t know everything, but the ten years of research which went into Fatal Rebirth has thus far allowed something like 80% of its predictions to come true based on developing and applying what I call the Unified Conspiracy Theory (with apologies to Einstein). Do you want to know where the next major terrorism will be, and what kind it is? What about what happens after that, which is even worse? Do you want to know what might stop these things? Do you want to know what unseen forces are working on both sides of the battle between Good and Evil?

Then PLEASE Read Fatal Rebirth. But if you don’t really fear these things or care because you trust the powers that be, then you MUST READ Fatal Rebirth! I think these things are far too important for you not to know, because it could mean the difference between freedom and slavery, or even death. The NWO is at your doorstep and they won’t bother to knock! PLEASE wake up NOW, and take some steps in your defense! What do you have to loose if I’m wrong other than some time learning things you didn’t know (over 1,500 footnotes and huge Appendix sections.) Feedback thus far consistently describes it as an enjoyable and illuminating read.

CDR Version with lifted copyright restrictions

Now, if you already know you want all four volumes and think you would like to spread the word, I’m also offering a special price on the CDR version AND LIFTING COPYRIGHT RESTRICTIONS so that you may give away copies of the CDR to people you know (face-to-face giving, not electronic or Web distribution). They do not enjoy the same rights unless making a payment, but they may do so at the same price. The price was originally $90 because of extra bonus materials included, but you can order it for just $28 postpaid. This offers is to U.S. Residents, only.

TO PLACE YOUR ORDER, use PayPal to proparanoid at century link net, and reference the ‘wordpress’ offer.

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About Author H. Michael Sweeney

Author of privacy/security/abuse of power, Founder Free Will Society, PALADINs (Post Apocalyptic Local Area Defense Information Network)

Posted on July 18, 2012, in Books, Conspiracy, History, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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