Comet Pizza Instagram Captures

Investigations VIDEO

I watched many “Pizzagate”  videos in recent weeks, with a sensation like a vise closing in on my temples. An otherworldly headache, blurred vision, an inter-cellular sense that all hope of normalcy is forever lost.

Nobody knows WTF is going on, but I have to tell you there are millions of dots in my memory bank that are in strange ways floating back to me, though I can’t describe yet, what I mean. For so many years, I was exposed to so many things I was not “allowed” to be alarmed about, because of deep seated cultural taboos that restricted healthy alarm. One was always conditioned to consider the highly abnormal normal.

I am exhausted from decades of having to always, always, always reassure the outside world that “we don’t know what it means.”

So I’ll say it again: We don’t know what it means. 

One repeats this tea-parlor prayer, as though it will confer protection against the most dreaded accusation of being overly alarmed (about incredibly alarming things)  while no shame was ever attached to being insufficiently alarmed.

I chose this video because it seemed most succinct.

I am aware of the risk of “mass hysteria.”

But for the love of Christ, what is this?


18 thoughts on “Comet Pizza Instagram Captures”

  1. My internet was turned off all day and I just got it back on. I slept and slept, through to the afternoon. Powerlessness, “depression” rage turned inward, shame (still) about being too ‘alarmed,’ which leaves one feeling devalued and somehow dirty. Outside of everything…

    But then Caroline and I spoke and she read to me some of the comments here. Told me how many brilliant comments there were. I felt the parched hopelessness subside. I told her: “I am so blessed with readers at The Truth Barrier.” Sometimes I think I post just to see what you guys will write in the comments section. That’s my family. Tribe sounds too trendy. Family!

    We do not deny one another respect, we do not turn deaf ear, or dismiss. True, we do “fight” here sometimes. But whoever is still here, now that I have been very clear that I found the forces around HRC downright demonic, which means I did not accept Trump as my Anti-Christ….those who are still here after I once again denounce “communism” without all kinds of caveats….well, I like to think we are an eclectic family. Not left, not right, not any ideological persuasion. Just family.

    1. thank you. your comment gives me ‘goose bumps’. waves of them~
      yes. family..
      who respectfully, softly can grope toward knowing unknowables ..feel our way, ‘opinions’ not being the main thing, ‘affiliations’ not being the main thing..letting heart sift head, and vice-versa..and letting hearts wake a little, roll over and lift lids..look afresh..
      musings, mumblings, I N K L I N G S, shared, aired with family,
      [ beat, beat..slowly throb, move, sense..was I heard? did I hear? are there echoes in this cave, that …guide? ]
      unforeseen mutually made..and singularly forged, too, sometimes
      under standing s…
      uniting differently… not under some predefined banner ..but maybe..
      feeling, forwarding, knowing gradually

      e l s e w h e r e ?

      1. your point about the forces around HRC really buoyed my spirit. i feel less alone since finding this trove of writing. thank you. harris

    2. Once again, WordPress calls me, Celia, editor of TTB, “anonymous.” No funds to hire webmaster. Shall try to iron out kinks…:)

  2. “One was always conditioned to consider the highly abnormal normal.”

    “we don’t know what it means”

    Thanks for those two. I think those are the ones I recently come to understand and apply to common life phenomena, discourse, etc. Those can keep one’s sanity and sometimes act as good remainders for others when you know they are caught in all that tea-parlor prayer and the socially acepted discourse and they desperately need a lifesaving: we don’t know what it means…

    As Berenice Kavanagh said above many of our cultural practices are “less than human”, and definitely less than humane…

  3. 15 Years Old Girl Survive Illuminati Satanic Rituals Abuse Pt 1

    Wake up call
    Wake up call
    [the name of the YOUTUBE clip]

  4. “The particular myth that’s been organizing this talk, and in a way the whole series, is the story of the Tower of Babel in the Bible. The civilization we live in at present is a gigantic technological structure, a skyscraper almost high enough to reach the moon. It looks like a single world-wide effort, but it’s really a deadlock of rivalries; it looks very impressive, except that it has no genuine human dignity. For all its wonderful machinery, we know it’s really a crazy ramshackle building, and at any time may crash around our ears. What the myth tells us is that the Tower of Babel is a work of human imagination, that its main elements are words, and that what will make it collapse is a confusion of tongues. All had originally one language, the myth says. The language is not English or Russian or Chinese or any common ancestor, if there was one. It is the language that makes Shakespeare and Pushkin authentic poets, that gives a social vision to both Lincoln and Gandhi. It never speaks unless we take the time to listen in leisure, and it speaks only in a voice too quiet for panic to hear. And then all it has to tell us, when we look over the edge of our leaning tower, is that we are not getting any nearer heaven, and that it is time to return to earth. [p.98]”

    ― Northrop Frye, The Educated Imagination

  5. I would like to recommend a youtube item which is, similarly, free of hysteria. It is called “Fifteen Year Old.. ” [I cannot remember whole title] and is a “60 minutes” [an Australian documentary regular show] episode, although the incidents Theresa attests to happen in England. I never experienced a more authentic girl..It is quite something to behold..[even if it isn’t true! and frankly, I do not see how it isn’t..but no-one can decide this for another?]
    This is [daring to listen to testimony from another, older, victim, last year] what drew me out of my tea party mode. It dawned on me…”If this woman is telling true, the my not hearing her is as windfall as could be..” and at that point I began to try to keep an open mind, and to weigh, and to muse, and to weigh. I also employed common sense as a sort of ‘antidote’ to hysterical tendencies, I supposed. I looked astonishing levels of worldly evil in the face. At how entrenched and perpetually dishonest these evils are. That indigenous people in MU [the ancient name for her majesties’ ORSTRALIA] are still, “legally” not considered citizens, to give one ‘small’ example [if one calls that ‘Law’ – They don’t!]. After two hundred years of white occupation the ‘powers that be’ want to torture would-be refugees rather than be simply, humbly, kind to them on arrival. How backward does one need to be, before one asks “Hmmm..maybe levels of cruelty are actually reaching the stage where one could say “Demons?” tentatively…because it gets worse over centuries rather than better, so someone is winning and it is not the Good. As such. Not apparently, anyway. And then I thought …”well ..evil does, actually ‘hold sway’. It should not, but it foes. And how might this be being IMPLEMENTED?” I asked myself. These kinds of thoughts allowed my common-sense self to engage with weirder notions. Not wanting to hurt – through my deafness- people who were communicating and risking all, to do so. And then realising that many many of our cultural practices are “less than human”, and definitely less than humane..that “less than humane” was pretty ordinary. That bombs were being dropped, unexplained, etcetera That Nuclear warheads are constantly added to..Why? Why? How are the cruel uncaring powers so entrenched, so “anchored”, in the world, when the good ones are so very hard to anchor? Then these ‘rituals’ seem to perhaps be part of the jigsaw?
    We break with, or challenge, inwardly, all of our DECENT conditioning, even in trying to contemplate such a ‘functionality’ …yet would it not explain the more obvious things that are ‘reportable’ ? We feel it is not decent, actually, to contemplate it. We break with ‘innocence’ to think that way. Nor is it decent to “How many times can a man turn his head, pretending he just doesn’t see?” let what Innocents tell us “blow in the wind”. Listen to Theresa. See what you think. Her face is full of light. She describes darkness unfathomable..yet shines, gently, with the r e a l …..”i am real”. & also “This happened. You ask me, I tell you. Sorry.” Lie as subtext, moral bedrock, in her witness-words, as a radiance so soft, so genuine, that ‘sacred’ comes to mind when watching her. Not through the content of her story..which is ‘diabolical’, but through her living to tell of it in a manner all the more pure for its poise. This redefines “purity”.. I am no kind of ‘bible-basher’..I use the words as one fumbling for expression of what i see..or feel that i see..
    from The Educated Imagination by Northrop Frye

    “Nobody is capable of of free speech unless he knows how to use language, and such knowledge is not a gift: it has to learned and worked at. [p.93]”

    “Literature as a whole is not an aggregate of exhibits with red and blue ribbons attached to them, like a cat-show, but the range of articulate human imagination as it extends from the height of imaginative heaven to the depth of imaginative hell.”
    [and is not literature life stuff, where it starts?]

    ― Northrop Frye, The Educated Imagination

  6. One of the things that perpetuates this kind of ugliness is that typical good-hearted folk have no conception of the depth of evil other “humans” are capable of. “No, this cannot be true!”

    Not only is it true, but it’s practiced by people in high office all over the western world. And how fitting that this “Pizzagate” comes to us from our nation”s capitol.

    1. yes…i agree..the ugliness is perpetuated, when, ‘trained to beauty’, we do not STARE IT DOWN. It proliferates. Undiscerned, it can grow. It takes a tough glare, a fact-forced confrontation through dense fog. It takes that thing in the eye which can, actually, pierce, but we rarely turn it on. Now, all my ‘comfort zones’, my torpor, challenged, I fumble for the switch to, yes, turn it on.
      I see Kendrick Eagle speak to President Obama on youtube. It is like a song. I see Obama pardoning a turkey, but not hearing Kendrick. Hmmm. My torch glares and some poisonous spiders scuttle off, as I know something, through putting two human Tonalities beside each other. A pattern shows. I feel more sure. I trip less on the rough floor of this dark and murky place where nebulousness rears and wobbles me so easily. Where, not know how to know, the finding aspect of me quails, drops back, is weakened.

      I think that perhaps even this effort at Staring It Down – ‘from a distance’ – watching and hearing, feeling, the words of souls more manifestly embroiled, [but caring embroils us all] is already a deed with ripples, in human ethos-ethers. I judge this partly from how much energy it took me to do it, to decide to do it! I had to shift a status quo within my ways of being, and deliberately turn into the dark.
      I need a brighter and a brighter torch. Not a personal torch..not a set of beliefs. Something else. Investigative stamina. Impartiality. Hunches. Tears.
      I needed to remind myself to eat and take breaks from the ghoulish labyrinth. Get a cup of tea. Put honey in it, yes, wholesome, sweet, honey.
      I was enthralled, and UGLY sickens hurts. I’d feel it in my throat. Your unconscious trust in life quavers. You ‘nut it out’. You can’t even thin the way you have to to get your head around this stuff. You keep going back to lines of investigation, while you reel. I found myself rocking in my chair and breathing traumatically. At first I struggled with torpor, allergy, “laziness” ..then morbidity ! I toughened. Last night..emboldened by these pages? I found out, and wrote to, the woman who first allowed me to feel the might of the husk of my ignorance, Fiona Barnett.
      [ “How many times can a man turn his head?” and “If your not being born, your dying…” ..thank you Bob, laureate of my receptive, intuitive, empathetic infancy. That was positive ‘indoctrination’..that was ‘prayer-practice’ I can live by now. Songs, true songs, are spiritual medicine. ]

      I described to her, in a long, squashed-onto-a-FB-messenger “box”, soul’s river of words, some layers & stages of the process first triggered, two years ago, by simply daring to listen to her. By not-turning-my- head-away [out of ..’aesthetic’ habit ?] – and then, not turning away, the human sensing of her authenticity. Isn’t this primordial, yet numbed by ‘modern life’ ? Isn’t this “Wooden Ships” [If you smile at me, I will understand…]?
      I liked the soft pink of her T-shirt as she described the living hells she was survivor of [how they writhe, veiled, right under our social noses ]and the greater hell she bore – that of no-one believing her. Of ‘trauma therapists’ dismissively reporting her to police, of police ‘losing’ her statements.
      “Hmmm..I thought..Pink interface with Hells ? That is a signal of Persephone, that interests me..” and I kept listening. Her matter-of-factness, her gumption, lack of pretension.. or even drama -she was past that! Depths of sorrow, anguish, carved upon her extraordinary strong and yes elegant physiognomy …Like someone learning how to read, a language of perception gradually, painfully ‘deciphered itself’ before my eyes. Conglomerate, at first, like a glacier thawing, the flecks and specks becoming ‘bits you partly recognise.’ The flecks, placed carefully, adding up to something you did not want o know was happening.

      What is Real?

      Then ‘what is more, and what less, real, here ?’
      [The faculties, for this. Aren’t they buds, in us?]

      What is an [ever-enlarging] context by means of which we can draw nearer to
      the reading, decoding, and authenticating
      human signals of
      Real ?

      Can’t we always carry this question, afresh?
      Doesn’t our ‘ inner compass’, like Lyra’s Golden one, [Phillip Pulman – “These Dark Materials”]
      refine itself through quest, practice, interrogation of perceived phenomena, our private weighing, suffering, in between, and then the clues – tested … clues, tested, then
      Doesn’t its needle quicken, because this feels important, it feels like ‘rescue’ and it is, inside,
      a wakening, a moral ‘dare’ ?

      Fiona replied to my outpouring. She wrote. “Letters like yours keep me going…Keep digging. You are nearly there..” A hush fell on me. There she was. A heroine in a pink shirt, [ not wanting to impress us, on youtube, with her own ordeal, but to report, yes, report what she has seen and tell the names of children who did not come through that tunnel that she’ed undergone, with them. The names that she could remember. The colour of their hair. Their qualities. Now lost to this earth..] with whom, after two years, I shakes hands, through words.

      We do not have to swallow everything. Much is ‘sensational’ ..but..beyond that? We do not have to be heedless, either.
      Mercy. That perspicacious stubbornly returning
      gaze. Letting breathe.

      If we can’t listen, from the ‘bank’ of the River Styx, then they
      can’t breathe, come through, come home.
      Can’t breathe out, release, the formative horror. Can’t – humanly-
      share the load.

    2. Black Elk
      1863 – 1950

      “I could see that the white man did not care for each other the way our people did…They would take everything from each other if the could ..some..had more of everything than they could use, while crowds of people had nothing at all…This could not be better than the ways of the old people.”

  7. “So I’ll say it again: We don’t know what it means.

    One repeats this tea-parlor prayer, as though it will confer protection against the most dreaded accusation of being overly alarmed (about incredibly alarming things) while no shame was ever attached to being insufficiently alarmed.”

    That’s brilliant writing. God forbid anyone be overly alarmed. In the words of Issiac Brock of modest mouse fame, ‘nobody want’s to be uptight anymore’

    But really, what kind of name is ‘werkin on ma night cheese’? I mean, who would call themselves that, that takes delight in these things, who doesn’t know what the code means?

    You’d have to believe the guy was just into making baby coffins…for some reason, and also that said, he’s also ignorant of what ‘cheese’ is code for.

    I’m sorry but no. I don’t buy that. Here’s some evidence that ‘cheese pizza’ has been code for this since at least 2010.

    1. Stephen, I went to that link, and I’m still bothered by what I saw. I’d never been on that website, and I don’t (absolutely/devoutly don’t ever) put those types of information sources in front of my eyes, in my life. Ever.

      I was shocked by some of the “definitions” written on the page to which the link you gave brought me. Disgusting. Appalling. Abhorrent. Above all: Angering.

      Such a sick species I’m part of. The evidences of that are innumerable, but the evidences at the link you provided raised the bar, as did the video Celia started this discussion with.

      Sad. So sad.

      After watching the video Celia supplied, and after reading the evil concepts (definitions) at the link you provided, my first internal conclusion was that I’m surely not going to watch any more videos about that matter. My second conclusion was that I must (and did) send out a “prayer” (in the way we atheists do), a wish to the universe, in hopes that some person or some entity having the means to investigate and prosecute will SOON take savagely merciless legal action against any and all who are guilty of what is alleged in that video.


      1. it is just beginning to unravel for these sick networks, starting in Norway where it’s being hinted that the network is global and involves people in high places.
        Years ago when I first got online I started reading about it. I mentioned my findings to a friend–a local cop. He told me that in police academy a guest came to speak about pedophilia. The man told the trainees to be very careful and meticulous when prosecuting these cases, because the presiding judge might be another pedophile himself.
        Former PA Attorney General Kathleen Kane just began a 23-month sentence on bizarre charges. Kane reopened the investigation of Penn State’s Sandusky pedophile case.
        They protect their own, you see.
        I know why JonBenet Ramsey was killed. And no, it was nobody in her family.
        I know why Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia died, with a pillow over his head, and no subsequent autopsy performed.
        I do not boast. The information is out there, for anybody who has the stomach for it. Run a search for “The Franklin Coverup,” a documentary the Discovery Channel chose, at the last minute, not to air. It’s on the WWW, if you know where to look.

        More often than not, the FBI, the courts are useless. Because when you join the Club, and participate, you’re videotaped. They have something on you. And that’s your ticket to the House, the Senate, the Governor’s Mansion, the White House, an Anchor slot on the Nightly News, and, of course, the Federal Bench. You rarely rise to these heights unless they have something on you.

        How do we live with all this? That’s a problem. Some pedophilia is hereditary, in the genes, and so, many of us express outrage a tad too stridently.

        We as a society are going to have to come to terms with all of this. Much as we might wish, we dare not turn our backs on it. And that requires a hard honest look at ourselves.

        The hardest part for me is knowing that 300,000 American children disappear every year and are never found.again. It is one thing to know this in one’s mind; it is a whole other thing to contemplate all that innocence taken from those who have no defense against it.
        Gonna pour a drink now.

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