Asbestos Head Chapter 12 - Paradise Found

Bed Head

-Paradise Found-

Asbestos is released from jail in the morning.  After a meal of fresh baked bread and squeezed grape juice from his favorite restaurant he heads toward his friend Bed Head's House of Dreams gallery.  The large country-style cabin contains three courtyards and almost a mile of winding corridors stretching the maze-like exterior in and around the surrounding forest.  Due to the nature of the exhibits it's under constant construction but still maintains a completed appearance with each addition.  Bed and his wife Vanessa Head are known in these parts as onieronaut artists.  Explorers of the dreamworld manifesting fantasies into reality through their multi-media art gallery experiences.  Having become dissatisfied with the lack of immersion achieved by standard singular mediums, they fully design and build each room in their gallery to be a macro-medium in itself, providing thematic backdrops for dynamic compositions consisting of everything from painting and furniture making to computer animation.  All their ideas come from dreams and their art from a passion to experience them in waking life. 

They begin by drafting blue-prints of the rooms Bed builds in accordance with appropriate acoustics, spacing and lighting for the exhibit.  Then Vanessa usually floors, paints, stencils, wallpapers or however readies the rooms for their intended atmosphere.  They’re filled with her furniture, rugs, paintings, sculptures, and other still life displays handmade for the exhibit.  Speaker systems are installed to play anything from white noise to original theme music written and performed by Vanessa.  Some exhibits include flat screens with looped video art, animation or cinematics.  Then all exhibits include short stories and poetry written for the rooms by Bed Head.  The latest is a spacious bedroom with giant picture windows, behind which concave plasma screens stream video of an apocalyptic seventh story city view.  The only sounds are muffled screams and distant roars of fire.  She models it after a dream of Bed Head’s, which he has just finished turning into a short story for display on the nightstand.

The Lost People of Atlantis - Dubay Family Research

Eric Dubay - Gyana Mudra

This is a continuation of my first post “Manipulation of History” which began as my own personal journey to find the truth that has been buried deep within the pile of lies and deception that prevails in the world. As a writer I prefer to write the truth, and when you only find lies and deception all around, a writer can't help but find the truth to show the people of the world.

In my own personal search for truth, I came across a post made by Eric Dubay about Manipulation of History which made my journey a lot more interesting. Though I would say my approach is not the correct one generally, as I am a very impatient person when I get excited about a topic and I can definitely get on people’s nerves which is generally to test people for understanding their level of tolerance along with their true agenda.

Converts Life Force into Power of Knowledge

One of the points that I had made on that post was about his name which particularly struck me and stayed within the confines of my mind. His name kept nagging me for a long time, and it made me keep coming back to his blogs over and over. I am a very highly opinionated kind of person because I generally reach to a conclusion after looking at all the evidence to prove a point.

I became aware of things I was never aware about in the world through his blogs, and I was able to learn about things that many of us Indians would not know about. It is a general habit of any person to remain within the personal circles of comfort which helps them feel safe about themselves, even though it may not be the safest way to live. After many of our conversations, we came back to the origins of his name which had bothered me for a very long time. Hence, I began searching for the original roots of his family line which led me to a great discovery which can not only help his family realize the truth about their origins but the world as well.

Asbestos Head Chapter 11 - Capitalist Manifesto

Dead Head

-Capitalist Manifesto-

Asbestos smokes Pot Head's present on the walk to his next appointment.  He enters the city police station and an officer leads him to jail.  In the corner he notices a malnourished, scruffy, dirty and completely naked cell mate who looks overly happy to see someone.

"What are you in for, friend?"

"I increased the amount of truth being told by a park statue and got charged with defacing state property."

"They're very protective of their possessions, aren’t they?"

"The government takes tax money and builds war monuments to promote patriotism and military allegiance as an easy means to marble immortality.  But isn’t war hero a paradox?  The only war heroes I know are draft dodgers, protestors, and people who place peace over purple hearts.  Where’s their statue?  That's what I want to know.  But anyway, I'm stuck in here overnight to keep the wheels of justice in rotation.  Let the rehabilitation begin!"

"Exactly.  Prison's Our societal time-out.  Go stand in the corner with your head down and think about what you've done until We say come out.  And of course the corner's only for poor kids.  Rich kids get their allowances taken away instead.  Meanwhile We've got millions of trained psychologists, psychiatrists, therapists, spiritualists and teachers twiddling their thumbs.  Why send your society's kids to the corner or take their money away when you can educate them?  Caging criminals with other mentally unstable felons has never helped a person on this planet. And think, all the money that's saved from not enslaving one percent of the population can be used to create jobs, promote education and mental health. No one experiences a lifetime of unconditional love then rapes and kills.  These are expressions of misguided emotion, as is the revenge taken against them.  I forgive everyone everything.  For many people justice is equality, an eye for an eye.  But increasingly, humanity is realizing that there is no justice in retributive punishment.  True justice is positive change.  An eye for an eye means committing the same act you're condemning while calling it the solution.  It may sound rational to Our government, but it sounds like insanity to me."

Chemtrails & Chemclouds Over America

I just put together this video of chemtrail and chemcloud pictures sent to me from Uhland, Texas, featuring the chemically-aware music of Trillion, Luca, and Sick Since. Special thanks to Grandma JJ for the great pictures. I hope you all enjoy the video and help spread the word by sharing it with everyone you can. Peace

~Eric Dubay

Asbestos Head Chapter 10 - Competitive Education

Pot Head

-Competitive Education-

Pot Head’s a rural area high school teacher who does drugs with his students.  He holds degrees in education, sociology, and psychology and has been using marijuana, opium, and psychedelic mushrooms in the classroom for years.  He argues that many teenagers are experimenting with even harder drugs in a destructive manner, distracting them from schoolwork, causing them to skip classes, fail and drop out.  However, when introduced correctly in an educational context, certain plants can provide a passion for knowledge and introspection.  They create an open, fun, and loving atmosphere in which true communication can be built between fellow students and teachers alike.  99% of Pot Head’s special life skills class graduates go onto college; all other teachers see improvement in grades, behavior, and notice a genuine love for learning among his students.  His classroom approach is simple but unorthodox: Comfortable swivel seats in a circle.  No tables, textbooks, boards, papers, pens or other distractions from true education.  Just many young minds perfectly aligned glancing excitedly with curious eyes.

Pot Head closes the door and takes his equal seat in the circle.  “Welcome to Life Skills.  As you all know We’re going to be taking drugs and talking in this class.  We’ll be going on mushroom field trips, writing opium poetry, smoking pot and discussing Our thoughts, and that’s about it.  No notes, no syllabus, no homework but books you choose and only one rule: Truth.  Everyone must swear they’ll only speak their true feelings in this classroom.  Education is not memorizing information; it’s knowledgeable exploration of yourselves.  What I want to teach you here is the truth about yourselves, so if you lie to each other or me, it disadvantages Us all. Speak honestly and if We touch on subjects you wish not to talk about, simply say so and We’ll move on.

First of all you’ll notice We’re sitting in a circle - the one, and only suitable seating configuration for a classroom. Sitting in rows facing front takes focus off each other and places it on fantasy objectives.  Switching to rows of separate desks came about during the industrial age with motives focused not on education theory, but toward creating a populous pre-accustomed to a factory-like setting. Nowadays nothing has changed and it can’t because there are too many students, too few true teachers, and too little funding.  So it serendipitously happens that the state enforces banker-hour school days, five days a week, with standardized testing, textbooks, and curriculums designed to compete students against all others for high grades and praise from the boss at the black board; then after school are often required to continue their competitive development in the wonderful sports programs, universally allocated more money than the arts. 

From 1852-1918 state education was optional in the US. Then after that it was mandatory only for 9-12 year olds, 10-12 weeks a year, and even that was met with extreme opposition. They've slowly lengthened the time and age range until now 4 year olds are in preschool and 26 year old doctors are still being indoctrinated.

Asbestos Head Chapter 9 - Free Will Junkies

Machine Head 
-Free Will Junkies-

Machine Head is Cyborg.

Cyborg are collective and simultaneously subjective beings identical to humans in every way except for their brains, which are in constant data transfer with both one another and a computer-generated Mother Brain.  Through silicon technology and forced genetic mutation, all cyborg have comprehensive sense transceivers allowing any member of the collective to fully experience the epistemological, visual, auditory, kinesthetic, olfactory, and gustatory sensations of any other.  All information is instantaneously sent to each other and the Mother Brain - an outside server that stores their every experience, even after the death of their bodies. 

This eliminates the human concern for understanding and self-preservation because the entirety of their experience is remembered, maintained, and accessible to all cyborg at any time.  As a result most cyborg live alone and haven’t the slightest desire to procreate.  Survival, love, and understanding are all secondary to what they describe as the intensification and appreciation of the Now.  They are inherently emotionless and opinionless by human standards because of their complete disidentification with self and thought.  Feeling and bias are only expressed in the interest of aesthetics as they consider these things to be high-art happening in real-time.  Overall their behavior closely parallels humans except for a couple quirks like these and that cyborg are all artists of one kind or another; Machine Head is lead singer in a hard-core heavy-metal band.  Tonight's show is already underway as Asbestos enters the building.

Asbestos Head Chapter 8 - Scenes From a Bar Scene

Mary Head

-Scenes from a Bar Scene-

Mary Head’s a little lamb whose fleece is white as snow.  But underneath her fleece she’s black as grease and thrice as slick.  Her eyes are narrow slits; her tongues prodded, poisonous, and flickers through fangs that suck the souls from lost spirits.

Asbestos enters the tavern and takes a seat at a corner booth.  He orders a glass of water, examines, sniffs, then sips it as though a fine wine.  Mary sits seductively in a red dress, cross-legged on a bar stool.  She lights a cigarette and downs a gin and tomato juice.  A modestly dressed middle-aged man slides onto the stool next to Mary simultaneously signaling the bartender with an inverse nod.

“How are you doing?”  He asks.

“However you’re doing Now, thanks.”

“What’s your drink?”

“I don’t identify myself with one.”

“I’m a whisky man.”

“Good for you.”

He flashes the bartender the peace sign  “So, are you from around here?” 

“As much as I’m from anywhere I’ve ever been.”  Two whiskies slide down.

“Well, have you spent much time here or just passing through?”

“If I told you right now I’d never sleep with you, would you leave me alone?”

“I . . . guess so, yeah.”  He stands.

“Do you feel alone, Whisky Man?”

“Sometimes.”

“You are alone.”

“I know.”

“Good.  Go away and deal with that until you die.”

Asbestos Head Chapter 7 - Kindness of Strangers

Joseph Head
-Kindness of Strangers-

Asbestos leaves the trailer park and proceeds toward Main street. He passes a large animal farm and from out of nowhere is caught in the jovial farmer's enthusiastic embrace. He squeezes the bejesus out of Asbestos and immediately apologizes:

"I'm Sorry. I have an overwhelming impulse to hug everyone I see. Please don't take it personally unless that makes you happy."

"No problem." Asbestos smiles and continues.

“Problems. You know son, problems that can be understood beforehand lose their ability to be problematic. So I always consider the worst in order to weed out potential mishaps before they happen.”

Asbestos stops. “That sounds depressing and pessimistic.”

“It’s not pessimism. It’s far-sighted optimism. Intentional cogitation on negativity eventually neutralizes its ability to affect you, so simply pondering potential problems like broken trust, loss of love, death, jealousy, guilt, disappointment and all other negative emotions you're able to vanquish without the anguish of experiencing their gut-wrenching depths. When I was your age, I rode an emotional roller coaster that dragged me up and dropped me down from great heights. Then there was a mid-life plateau in my ride until I realized: Strong minds change one’s emotions whereas weak minds allow emotions to change their ideologies. If you want to understand yourself and experience clearer, more intense emotions, you have to examine all that is unconscious about your changes in emotional states. By examining your own behavior and refining your reactions, emotions become a playground, not a roller coaster."

"Are you saying you’re just happy all the time?"

"I’m not happy all the time, but whenever I’m not, I know it’s my own damn fault. I used to blame other people, events and situations for my subtle discomforts and unhappiness. Blame the cook for bad food, the waiter for serving it slowly, blame the other people in line, blame the other cars in traffic, blame the government for not reading my mind, blame my friends and family for the shortcomings I created: blame my father for being so aggressive, my mother for being so passive, my whole extended family for being so sheltered. It’s so embarrassingly easy to find reasons why others cause your unhappiness. The real challenge is accepting the truth - the truth that every time you feel anything but utter bliss, it’s your own damn fault. Every single time I feel any emotion other than happiness, I see a deeper problem about myself."

Asbestos Head Chapter 6 - Mutual Masturbation

Richard Head

-Mutual Masturbation-

Dick Head lives in a doublewide trailer and watches super-satellite digital cable television on triple picture-in-picture plasma surround sound panorama-vision.  He hates gay men and fantasizes about gay women.  He thinks a threesome would complete his existence.  He’s transfixed by engines.  He follows all sports and his favorite teams are whoever’s closest.  He’s also very patriotic.  He even prefers domestic beer. He spends more money on beer than food.  He spends more money on lottery tickets than beer.  He thinks sex is a topic containing infinite humor for the same reason he hates gay men.  He tucks his wife beaters into his briefs.  His tattoo says transcendence in Chinese. 

Everyday he sits slack-jawed, slouched in a recliner, beer-buzzed and sugar-high while Hollywood’s never ending boner penetrates his eye sockets and skull-fucks his brains out.  As a result he rarely thinks a deep thought and masturbates like it’s routine maintenance.  This mind-fuck sucks his love for physical beauty and all things sexual drives him to marry the most beautiful thing that will have sex with him.  Then he masturbates on his wife’s face like it’s routine maintenance.  After spending his life savings on life insurance and that big fucking television he becomes so poor he can’t even pay attention, so he carries distraction devices for more riff-raff, collects little doo-dads to knick-knack, go-goes to girly shows to get his paddy-whacked in lap dances then comes rolling home to give the bitch her bone.

Asbestos Head Chapter 5 - Barbie Doll Blues

Matrioshka Head

-Barbie Doll Blues-

Matrioshka’s a walking contradiction wearing high-heels and low-cut shirts, over-sized bras and mini-skirts.  She has dyed hair, collagen lips, silicon breasts, methacrylate nails, a plastic face, a liposuct stomach and longs for true love.  She reads self-help books written by other people.  Her diary’s a connect-the-dots of days with extravagant descriptions of her mediocre existence.  Her photo albums look like laminated stationary showcasing various backgrounds with her smiling mug in the middle.  When she shows everyone her albums (and she shows everyone her albums) every picture is prefaced, “this is me at (someplace) . . . “

Matrioshka loves possessions more than she loves people so she shrinks everyone into microcosms of themselves and arranges them on shelves.  She has shelves for enemies, acquaintances, boyfriends, girlfriends, a high shelf for her best friends and an empty one for her future husband.  As with all collections, her sole purpose is to horde the most and the best, so her focus is always on what’s next.

When Matrioshka’s not collecting dolls she likes to don her latest designer tackle-box and hit the mall to fish for complements.  She always buys the best bait but hates to get her feet wet so she just waits with her big bobbers and shiny lures until some prickly pickerel puckers-up his best fish face for a slimy kiss.  Once she pulled the pole early to hook a handsome salmon nibbling her worm only to have him eat his fill then sever the line.  Since then she’s taken up fly-fishing and only caught shadows.

The experience leaves her feeling empty and hollow so for structural reinforcement she finds two smaller followers called friends that fit inside her.  Their relationship is selfish and superficial but reciprocal; they rely on her exterior to attract attention and she relies on their interior to fill the hole inside her.  Sometimes they come out to play but usually just stay tucked up, fucked inside agreeing with everything she says because they want to remain friends (and enemies are anyone that disagrees). 

Every morning she awakes to an alarm clock then watches TV until the car radio.  At work she gossips, gabs, and babbles, small talks and chit-chats about shit like this and that until it’s time for the all talk drive at five hour live.  Then back home she divides her attention between the television, computer, and cell phone until it’s time for the alarm clock.  She’s never experienced comfortable silence alone or with another person because she avoids it.  She’s scared of silence because that’s when minds thrive and hers is toxic; Her brain’s a label maker and she uses her tongue to stick them on everyone.  There’s a price tag attached to each relationship and the currency is compliance, hence most people don’t buy into her business.  The few who do, however, love getting together to drink alone and vomit on themselves. 

Since change is costly and adds up quickly, Matrioshka develops an unconscious bias toward whatever she learns first then practices defensive education by dodging opposite viewpoints and countering new facts with old opinions.  She side-steps advice and strikes down constructive criticism with cynicism and sarcasm.  Such insight into abstract epistemology even spurs a revelation in philosophy known as illogical negativism; Matrioshka’s dedicated work in the field remains unparalleled but continues to fall short of the Nobel.  And unfortunately for her emotional well-being there are repercussions to this behavior: She feels fake and lonely, led astray and abandoned like an oxbow lake.  Incessant judgment of every situation keeps her brain in constant rumination.  Every experience is cross-referenced to check for inconsistencies, labeled and captioned for her table of contents, prefaced and appendixed then indexed for easy access.  This process is so complex she’s only half experienced her whole life. 

Asbestos Head is the truest friend she’s ever had.  Today after a moment of mutual passion she says he somehow ruined their friendship through physical contact and she doesn’t know how to think of him Now because she hasn’t a label for that.

Asbestos Head Chapter 4 - Present of All Presence

Doc Head

-Present of all Presence-

Doc Head holds post-graduate degrees in both psychology and philosophy.  In clinical work he finds philosophy to be more helpful and relevant because it is always looking forward pushing the progress of thought, whereas the majority of psychological research looks backwards trying to find explanations for behaviors.  As a result, instead of diagnosing behavioral abnormalities, he provides philosophical arguments against his patients and brings them face to face with their flaws.

Instead of tracing fear of commitment to childhood abandonment, attributing apathy to life-long depression, or otherwise trying to make explanations in rewind, he Socratically challenges their current, personal reasoning and rationale behind such issues and gives educated nudges in advantageous directions. His questions channel their thoughts through unexplored depths. Most people are never adequately challenged in their beliefs and judgments.  Simply spending time sitting down with an educated moral philosopher expands their personal understanding and gives conversation a new perspective, like the extrospection section of self-reflection.

Asbestos Head Chapter 3 - People in Houses

Figure Head

-People in Houses-

Figure Head begins his career doing statistical analysis of complex matrices then fuses fractals with chaos theory and proves Euclidean geometry incompatible with Einsteinian relativity.  He even publishes outlandish proofs for Riemann’s hypothesis and Goldbach’s conjecture involving logarithmic properties of infinite infinities in determining prime probabilities.  The institution frowns upon his conclusions and shrugs them aside, but he continues to fund his research travelling as a motivational speaker.

-

Tonight’s talk: Apeirophobia - The Fear of Infinity

“Good Evening folks.  Forms are a fallacy of human perception.  We label repetitive manifestations necessitated by the system as separate but similar entities when in fact nothing is separate and so everything is similar.  The Universe, everything that is, Our mass of matter in motion perpetually molds and shifts, adapts and changes, repeats as a constant result of itself, but never fully separates into an other.  It is One.  You and I, the stars and space.

If you blur your vision enough, forms disappear and you are left with nothing but a mass of color in motion.  There is no word that describes the blur, but perhaps you make one up.  Then you make a habit of making up words for blurs and start recognizing similarities - you label tree blurs, rock blurs, other animal blurs and maybe even atom blurs.  This allows you to compare and categorize, make judgments, and express artistic concerns about the blurs, but the fact remains that the boundaries between blurs are perceptual, not actual.  We know no two trees, rocks, animals, or atoms are exactly alike, but if no two things are exactly alike, We have no way to measure what constitutes one thing or it’s other.  If no two things are exactly alike then there must be only one true form that is everything.

Asbestos Head Chapter 2 - Absolute Relativity

Pin Head 
-Absolute Relativity-

“I love circles, man.  I don’t even believe in straight lines.  I talk circles, walk circles, all circles, concentric circles, Cevian circles, pseudocircles, semi-circles, circumcircles, never sick of circles man.  Do you know any meaningful mathematical manipulation of circles involves an irrational infinite number?   Every circle and ellipse in existence is crossing chaotically in three dimensions like a fucking gigantic fractal gyroscope in perpetual motion.  Think about it: moons orbit planets and planets orbit stars and stars orbit galaxies and galaxies orbit universes and orbits orbit orbits or better yet, orbits are bits of God spinning his ellipses into eternity.  Dude, there’s no graviton, gravity’s just universal centrifugal force.  Every time I leave I always come back, I can’t escape the circles; I tried that and came back by accident.  I walk circles, talk circles.  I don’t even believe in straight lines.  I love circles, man.”

Asbestos Head Chapter 1 - How to Write Original Music

Asbestos Head

-How to Write Original Music-

God is the infinite existence or causal creation of all matter.

Asbestos Head is a finite congregation of super-specialized matter capable of creativity and rationale, through which he deduces that God is the infinite existence or causal creation of all matter.

Asbestos Head’s read Hoyle and Hawking and one of them is right; either everything that is has always existed or came into existence at some point in time.  One disjunct is true but Asbestos is unsure which because he himself is merely a semi-mobile subjective perception unit incapable of knowing objective truth or comprehending infinity.

What he does know is consciousness of God’s existence is contingent upon such congregations of matter, as is matter’s physical existence contingent upon God.  Therefore either God is causal, singular and separate - an outside entity somehow responsible for His own existence, the creation of the universe, and the creation of other beings to recognize Him, or existence is non-causal, plural, parts and whole of all that is with nothing outside Us because We’re all infinite self-reflexive pieces of God interacting, changing, acting out eternity.

Asbestos’ best guess is God is non-causal and thinks once Ockham’s razor slits the wrists of an unmoved mover We’ll all be left moving alone together forever, for without God, Asbestos is condemned to Godel’s incompleteness and without Asbestos, God is the silent sound of trees falling in solipsist forests.

Texas Chemtrails

Famous Freemasons Exposed

Above is a YouTube video and below a PDF I created about Freemasonic hand-signs. There are many hand shakes/signs/gestures which have been leaked into popular culture by mainstream media masons to the point that people don't believe or understand their origin anymore. For instance the "devil horns" sign which has been used by heavy metal rockers, UT sports fans, and ASL - Long before any of these things existed this hand-sign was a well-known masonic gesture exposed in many places including former mason J.S.M. Ward's book "Signs and Symbols of Freemasonry." For the record, I'm not stating categorically that every politician/celebrity shown is a Freemason, but rather I'm showing how incredibly often these masonic gestures are flashed by people in power.

~Eric Dubay

Famous Freemasons Exposed

Welcome to Media Control

Hello, this is Eric Dubay from AtlanteanConspiracy.com and Eric's Esoterics introducing MediaControl.org, a new venture my friends and I have undertaken in the spirit of free speech and independent thought.  Thanks to a generous contribution I was given this domain and would like to make the best use of it possible.  In the interest of giving a louder voice to the masses of independent writers, researchers, musicians, artists, and filmmakers out there, MediaControl.org is here to publish and help promote your original articles, artwork, music and videos to a wider internet audience.

I have been creating blogs and websites for half my life and have found scores of effective ways to promote and drive traffic via social networking, search engines, blog catalogs etc. and would like to use that knowledge to help promote you!  All original writing, art, music, or film of any type/topic that you would like to share with the internet at large, MediaControl.org is here to help build you a bigger soapbox.  Even if your original media is already posted elsewhere on the web (i.e. your blog, website, video channel etc.) send it to mediacontrol@hotmail.com and we will help spread your work to a much broader audience of other independent artists and free thinkers.

Media Control will publish up to 4 posts per month for you, link to your original source material (if applicable) and provide you with your own contributor's page, then use the latest methods of promotion and directing traffic to help promote not only your work but also your website, channel, or blog.  All we ask for in return is a reciprocal link to MediaControl.org on your site, blog, channel, facebook or wherever you can.  So please help us help you and send your original media to mediacontrol@hotmail.com and together we will build an archive of truly free and independent media as well as a community of like-minded writers and artists.  Peace.