Yesterday I was asked to be a part of the Project Veritas video that exposes a Pfizer Director discusses making a “Mutating” COVID-19 virus for new vaccines via ‘Directed Evolution’ research. Of course, I was honored to help. The above video is the final product.

Discussions concerning the deep evil which underlies the COVIDcrisis has become common among the many communities which Jill and I visit while traveling the world.

Here is the rough beast in the flesh, slouching towards Bethlehem to be born. Devoid of empathy. Avarice its purpose. It’s face glowing with joy, oblivious to the profound human tragedy it enables, reveling in the damage wrought to the web of humanity and the structure of a nation. Oblivious to the horror embodied in its words, in the very fabric of its language. Possessed by a deep belief in its own entitlement. Oozing dizzy narcissism. Celebrating corruption. Completely devoid of wisdom, introspection or self-awareness of the fundamental perversion of its soul.

A senior emissary from an immortal corporation, which courts have defined as having rights formerly restricted to human citizens, and which chronically preys and feeds on human suffering. A corporation which shrugs off massive fines for illegal activities as just another inconvenience, a mere business expense.

Look deeply into the face of this ambassador from another world, listen carefully to these worlds. This is how we got here. This is the culture that has given us this global human tragedy.

Behold the banal face of unrepentant evil.

Apparently there is additional video footage that will be released today.

Now, having seen, what are you going to do about it?

Here is the complete poem by W.B.Yeats

The Second Coming 

BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Turning and turning in the widening gyre   

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst   

Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.   

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out   

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert   

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,   

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,   

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it   

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.   

The darkness drops again; but now I know   

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,   

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,   

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?