Using “alternate realities” as a form of analysis
By Jon Rappoport
When I finished putting together my collection, The Matrix Revealed, I wrote several prefaces to it. Here is one:
—Start here: if things weren’t the way they are, if they were quite different in specific ways…
What implications would follow?
This can be a very instructive question.
Most people automatically reject alternate realities on the basis of: “Well, they don’t exist, they’re fantasies, so who cares?”
That reaction speaks to a paucity of imagination and little else. It’s a profoundly low-IQ response.
I’ll flesh out an example of an alternate reality and trace the implications. You’ll see it illuminates “things as they are” in an interesting way. This example is based on my experience writing, reading, and watching news for over 30 years. It’s also based on numerous off-the-record conversations I’ve had with mainstream reporters.
Suppose the NY Times, which is drowning in red ink, which re-finances its debt to stay afloat, which is losing its reputation as the paper of record faster than a rowboat full of holes sinks in a lake, changed its whole method of finding and presenting news.
Suppose the Times latched on to major scandals beyond its corporate mandate with the extreme ferocity of an attack dog. Suppose, for instance, it went after the deadly impact of medical drugs on the population. Suppose it began with the July 26, 2000, review, published in the Journal of the American Medical Association, “Is US Health Really the Best in the World?”, authored by Dr. Barbara Starfield, of the Johns Hopkins School of Public Health, in which Starfield concludes that, every year, FDA-approved medicines kill 106,000 Americans?
Extrapolating that number out to a decade, the death toll comes to over a million. A million Americans killed every decade by medical drugs.
Suppose the Times made this its number-one story, not just for a day, but for a year or more? It lets the hounds loose on the FDA, who approves the drugs as safe, it sends the hounds to medical journals, which routinely publish fraudulent studies praising the drugs that kill people. So far we’re talking about nothing less than RICO felonies—continuing organized-criminal acts. Suppose the Times’ hounds probe medical schools, where students are taught to believe in the killer drugs, where Pharma money funds the teaching programs.
There are so many nooks and crannies where Times’ reporters can extract confessions from medical players: “I knew about the horrific death toll years ago, but my superiors ordered me to shut up.”
“Which superior was that? You may as well tell me. I’m going to find out anyway…”
The Times’ reporters move in on the Dept. of Justice, which has never lifted a finger to prosecute these ongoing crimes, despite knowing exactly what’s been going on.
Day after day, as new confessions and facts emerge, the Times puts its searing stories on page one of the paper.
The size of the headlines increases.
The public is wakened. The public, as it turns out, is unable to turn away.
The Times puts out two print editions a day and the papers fly off the newsstands.
Under intense pressure, Congressional hearings are laid on. New liars come to the fore, and under oath some of them crack and reveal how medical murder has survived in the shadows all these years. It’s a grisly tale.
The Times’ profits soar. The public is on fire.
And then, just when the whole story seems to have lost a bit of its force, new revelations explode. Major medical reporters for many press outlets—including the Times—have been sitting on this story for more than a decade. They’re instrumental in the cover-up. Mass firings occur.
At the same time, it becomes apparent that several blockbuster global trade deals have been engineered, behind the scenes, to further engorge Pharma profits. Those deals go down the drain and are canceled.
I could go on. This story would have more legs than a phalanx of centipedes.
But of course, neither the Times nor any other major press outlet would ever pick up or cover this story. These media operations are locked in partnership with Pharma. They’re on the same side.
Yet, understanding how the story could play and evolve and explode in an “alternate universe” gives you clues. For example, the public is asleep because the news keeps it asleep.
The public could wake up.
And if it did, there would be hell to pay.
In a universe of true news, the entire society would be different because the people would be different. They wouldn’t be acting as if they’re brain-damaged. They wouldn’t be acting as if they’re goggled-eyed glazed-over New Agers. They wouldn’t be afraid to speak out and speak up. They would be alert and active and forceful. A great deal of delusional scum would be scraped off the top of consciousness. Vague generalities would no longer suffice. Empty words would no longer suffice. Business as usual would no longer suffice.
In this highly instructive “alternate universe” metaphor, the public would learn that nothing is too big to fail—a valuable lesson. Big Pharma, exposed to its roots as a crime mob, toppled from all its pillars of trust, would not, by its fate, doom society. Far from it. Society would be cleansed.
People would look around and wonder how they had slept for so long. The purveyors of fake news, with their touted experts, would experience a level of (justifiable) paranoia they’d never imagined. Not just in their coverage of the medical arena, but in every sphere where lying and cover-up and diversion have been the order of the day.
The overarching position of “Elite News Anchor” would drown in its own corrupt juices. The networks would scramble like rats to survive a ratings crash beyond their wildest nightmares.
And yet, again, society would not be doomed.
Many, many, many more individuals would wake up.
Information, the neutral god of the technocratic secular church, would suddenly be colored with purpose. It would reveal. It would expose. It would take on muscle. It would range along dynamic lines of force and unseat criminals in the highest of places, with no restraint.
The population would develop a new appetite. Instead of alpha-wave hypnotic trance, people would insist on the demise of false idols. And lawful application of justice would finally mean something.
All this…this is what the mainstream news could deliver. In an alternate universe.
In the “real” universe where we live, the task falls to independent investigators. But the aim is the same: rousing the people from their slumber.
When you can envision the implications of a preferable “other-universe,” all the way across the board, you can understand what your work is here and now.
You can summon the energy to go all-out. You can throw off insubstantial roles. You can create your own engine, shove it into gear, and move up to high velocity.
The imagining of alternate universes creates energy.