Sometime in the 1980s the statue was removed because of greatly increased traffic and road widening. It was a mystery as to its fate. Perhaps it was 4 or 5 years ago that I learned it was on a school property several miles away. I went to see it. It was unmarked but I recognized it. It is in a very nice setting.
I took several pictures of it. I have long felt that Warren could have vied for the first President position, but because of his real lack of military experience and reported recklessness under enemy fire, it is all now simply conjecture.
His bridgework had been done by Paul Revere, and the bridgework on the corpse was identified as Revere's work. His lodge brothers wrapped the corpse in a blanket, took it back to Boston by boat and gave him a proper funeral.
Warren was not only Grand Master of St. Andrews Lodge in Boston, but also Grand Master of all Masonic lodges in the colonies. His body had been set to be decapitated and the head sent back to London for display, but an officer in General Howe's unit who was also a Mason made sure that Warren's body was buried and not defiled.
https://newsletter.martingeddes.com/p/it-had-to-be-this-way
It had to be this way
Taking stock of the past from here at the precipice of change
Martin Geddes
Last week I had the traditional British summer experience of a damp day at the seaside. As has been the case for decades — since the advent of cheap air travel — traditional getaway resorts in Britain have an air of genteel decay. Scarborough is no different, with plenty of magnificent old buildings from an era when we could afford craftsmanship, yet many closed-up shops and the occasional beggar.
I have had the opportunity to visit a fair number of towns and cities in England this last year. At one level it has been a process of acceptance of the decline of a nation and its people. The rail network — a civilising influence — has shrunk to a fraction of what it was a century ago. As has been noted by so many, modern buildings have two base styles: bland mediocrity made of glass and concrete, or active ugliness through jarring forms and colours. Young girls are dressed up by parents in clothing traditionally associated with prostitutes.
At another level I am constantly overjoyed at the richness of our physical and cultural inheritance, even if much has been damaged or destroyed. Humans are adaptable and resilient, and while the genetic genocide may take a few years to depopulate us, we have mostly come through the nightmare of mass imprisonment via “lockdowns”. Britain may not be the country it once was, but even weaponised migration has upsides of variety, colour, and energy. We might have covertly turned communist after WW2, but the erasure of a people and culture isn’t immediate; what’s left is worthy.
The last few years have been a strange divergent journey away from most of the people I used to associate with. I still have some of the same close friends — people who share the odd belief that it’s not OK to sacrifice children for any reason ever. But most of the people I know have fallen for the Cult of Covid, driven by fear of death or disapproval (a far worse fate) into the hive mind. Because of my life history, several of my friends and very successful professionals in senior roles.
A memorable moment was sitting on a park bench with one longstanding friend, who is a computer science professor. He told me of getting the Covid jab, then being sick for three days, but anyone who refuses it is an idiot who doesn’t know anything about immunology. Now, as a fellow computer scientist, I don’t claim to be well informed on matters of biology and medicine. But I have learned enough to gain some conscious incompetence, and I can tell unconscious incompetence when I see it.
Another two friends sat on their sofa on a Zoom call, and beamed to me how pleased they were to have gotten jabbed. It was like they had joined the Moonies, there was absolutely not the slightest flicker of doubt as to whether this was a wise move. Given how my mother is a lifelong Jehovah’s Witness (along with most of her side of the family) I am sensitised to this kind of glazed look of rapture. The moment that questions of doubt are socially taboo is when you know the social mind control has taken over.
The stories of national and personal decline and renewal have parallels. In retrospect you can see the timelines that have closed off from choices in the distant past, as well as the timelines that remain open looking forward. The present is the cumulative effect of myriad small choices, but which act into a smaller number of “attractor” beliefs about the nature of our world. While the expression can alter, the base persona of a nation or individual doesn’t seem to be substantially modifiable in a single lifetime.
Once you have been validated as, say, “successful professional and graduate of an elite university” that’s a framing of the world which is hard to escape. Your exoteric world is the whole world, and there is no cause to question whether there might be relevant esoteric goings on. In retrospect I can now see how my lifelong associates were always unconsciously authoritarian and conformist. Their self-image as being open-minded due to, for instance, extensive world travel was a delusion; their perception was only surface-deep.
We all have stories like this, suddenly realising that many of those around us are not-so-disguised Marxists, that they worship collectivism, and have ungodly values. We have had to accept that our friendship was contingent on nobody dissenting from certain accepted norms. The family “love” we experienced was something else: infatuation with a partner, or conditional control from a parent, or dependency from a child. They ultimately didn’t really hold our best interests in mind, else they would not have behaved as they have.
It has been a long and painful wait for “mass awakening” to unpleasant truth, and visible justice for those who have assaulted us. I have spent a decade researching and mapping the networks of criminality by the parasitic ruling class, and feel like I have barely scratched the surface. There is only so much headspace you want to give over to blackmailed paedophiles in power, or cannibals in the mass media, or technological targeting of free will.
The last two years have seen us confront election fraud, scamdemic tyranny, economic insecurity, social ostracism, family feuds, naked corruption, mass censorship, and child poisoning. If you had asked me in advance whether I wanted to go through such an ordeal I would have recoiled in horror: as a strict orthodox hedonist I am only here for the laughs. Yet somehow I feel much better off for it all, like the purging effect of some brutal Amazonian psychedelic. We have confronted our individual and collective mortality, which may have been harrowing, but now have little to fear after.
It feels a bit like a nightmarish trip is coming to an end, and it’s time to clear up whatever mess was made while we were all out of our minds. Rather than a harsh come-down there is clarity and peace. We have weathered this struggle, and found the parts of our spirit that are steady and anchored, no matter what is thrown at us. The multi-year training process in evading mind control, overcoming isolation, and persevering in a psychological war has come to an end, and we are passing with merit just by still being here.
A common theme of my conversations with friends is the moment when the deceived realise the awfulness of the decisions they have made on behalf of themselves and their families. I have sat in California next to my own brother and watched him laugh at corrupt “comedians” like Stephen Colbert using brainwashing techniques of “funny twisting absurdisms” to inject falsehoods into his subconscious. It sickens me, and when he understands the betrayal his world will implode. All I can do it offer comfort in that moment.
How can any parent come to terms with the idea that they have been deceived into sterilising, maiming, and murdering their own children? Not least by a ruling class of child rapists and adrenalised blood addicts. What we confront is so “out there” and crazy it is indeed incredible; it has taken me years of work to do my due diligence and integrate a sufficiently coherent sense of evil and its methods. Having to confront all this in a “rude awakening” of days or weeks is an agony I don’t even wish to reflect upon.
Yet here we are. Some of us resisted the mass psychosis, no matter what the cost, whereas others buckled and bowed. The spiritual fortitude to decline to “go along to get along” can be found in some of the most unlikely people; conversely, people who we thought were “awake” rushed to get the jab the moment their travel privileges were under threat. If we hadn’t had this period of hardship and loss then we would still be living under a misconception about the true nature of both our nation and those around us.
From a personal perspective I am a much better person and more contented. I have had to master the skill of “unconditional love with conditional support”. Those who have treated me badly can be forgiven, but that doesn’t mean I need to associate with them. It just means I don’t have to launch a punch in the face if we ever pass in the street; I can be cordial and humane because what they say or do has no effect on me any more. I do not seek any apology or restitution.
What I value has changed. My British Airways gold card has long lapsed all the way to the lowest tier. I used to fly every few days, or at most weeks. Now I have only been on a plane once in two years. I take more pleasure in my local surroundings and those who truly relish my company. I have no budget for buying unnecessary clothes to look good (although I will have to kill you if you try to take my Tumi laptop bag off me, it’s only fair!). My trips to restaurants are infrequent and much enjoyed when I do partake. I bought a £6 candle stand at Tesco last night, and that’s about as far as my fripperies go.
Until we faced hardship, we never really knew who we were, who others are, and what kind of world we live in. It is not easy, but it really has to be this way. I had to let go of the telecoms career aspiration in order to make space for more important things. The messages from a few thousand new followers on Truth Social in the past 24 hours tell me my value and impact in the world is far greater as a result of the letting go. As I was once wisely counselled, all change involves losses and gains, and we resist it because the losses tend to present first. But there are gains, eventually!
The paradox is that once you understand how far we have fallen, you can also see how far we can rise. As Oscar Wilde wrote, “We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” As I write I am eagerly awaiting our “1776 moment” of liberation. The mass media will fall, our corrupt legal and government systems will tumble, and truth and justice will prevail at last. It will be a very difficult period of tumult, but the last few years have been the necessary preparation.
Our old financial system must go. Every corporation that was complicit in the scamdemic is now likely bankrupt from the liabilities of medical fraud and civil rights infringement; the stock market may not survive at all. The whole medical industry is barbaric and corrupt, and little may remain. Our energy business is also based on science fraud, denying us the fruits of “black budget” projects that we have paid for but not benefitted from. Schooling has to be replaced with education (they are not the same). It is hard to wrap your mind around the scale of impending change.
Everything has its season, and we are done with the preparation and warm-up. Now we must endure the trial of living in a collapsing society that will face the fallout of nasty false flags and genetic genocide. Every part of our system of government is a lie or fraud in some way, barring a core of the military. “The Storm” is a clearing away of this detritus, so that future generations can have a clean start from a solid foundation. As this unfolds we will have what we need, but not what we want, and that’s OK.