Wake Me Up When Remember Ends….






Read an in-depth analysis of this hurricane here.

Hey, do you remember a hurricane as big as Katrina just about to slam into New York City on the morning of September 11, 2001? Don’t feel bad if you don’t, NOBODY DOES. Even the living tiki himself didn’t happen upon this bit o’ strangeness until last year. But weather satellites have no memory to be screwed around with and changed. They only have recorded data.

There it is, folks. That’s the ONLY thing you need to know about 9/11. That there was this huge hurricane which nobody reported on. Not even for just the safety/evacuation issues alone. Not even mentioned by U.S. astronauts when they were aboard the International Space Station being interviewed by CNN about how they could see the smoke coming off the twin towers from space. Not one of them felt it necessary to say:

Oh, by the way New York, do you know there’s this big-ass hurricane right on your front doorstep?

I would say that it helps if you know why there was a huge hurricane on 9/11 which nobody reported on (seriously, this is journalistic gold to be the first one to break with a news flash like this!) The biggest clue is looking right at you: The eye. It’s unnaturally pentagonal in shape. Other hurricanes have had the same weirdness. Unnatural means artificial. Repetition means manufactured. Add the chemtrails and you’re getting an idea of the process.

Let’s think about this for a moment. Why would the powers that be artificially manufacture and manipulate a hurricane ten days earlier (in which it never made landfall, made an odd right turn at Bermuda, and then a straight beeline for New York) in order to just park it right off the coast while one of the most significant events in American history was just happening a short distance away? Well, if you were planning THE most significant false flag/psy-op/sacrificial rite/new world order kickoff, don’t you think you would have a backup plan in case things go wrong?

Hey, what’s going on? There’s no people in these planes! Wait, was that an explosion?

Don’t pay attention to that! I have orders to get everybody out of here, there’s a huge hurricane coming!

But there’s something weird going on and I…

Move it! I said now!

9/11 was a con. Katrina was a con. Iraq was a con. But these aren’t the points I’m making in this 9/11 post (which I couldn’t pass up.) I first wanted to illustrate how much of our reality is controlled, and “the point” is best described by one Mr. Aloysius Fozdyke, who operates a website called The Satanic Insider. He may or may not be an insider from the Satanic shapers of our reality, but he had the perfect reply to a comment on his site once:

“You bought 9/11, didn’t you? If not, you did nothing about it, did you? You engage in pointless politics, attend our churches, work harder for less and less, die in our wars, use our banks, follow the curriculum, and enjoy modern media. We can’t ask for much more.”

If you want to remember something about 9/11, don’t watch Michelle Obama at a ceremony pretending to care about the people who died were sacrificed in Pennsylvania (maybe). I know if I was one of those people I would be saying “Oh bloody hell! My name is now forever linked with a place called Shanksville? Ugh!”

Instead, remember that eight years ago today a beautiful baby girl was born to my Vietnamese auto mechanic. Her name is Sokcun, and her father couldn’t wait to throw her a party today. Happy Birthday Sokcun!

It is also happens to be my brother’s birthday too. Happy Birthday Lloyd!


~ by the living tiki on September 11, 2010.

2 Responses to “Wake Me Up When Remember Ends….”

  1. Awesome words, awesome work.

    Keep it coming 🙂

    • Alex – “Thank you” seemed a bit pale to reply to your appraisal considering the value (a luve?) you put on words. Plus, the Disney machine imprinted in my brain at a young age the lovely female British/Austrailian/New Zealand accent as one of “storyteller”.

      Therefore, I offer an Indonesian thank you: “Terima Kasih”
      It translates into “Receive Love.” (Although, like every country that doesn’t speak English, they have many other words for love. The “love” Americans only know they call “Cinta”.)


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