These last few days have had me on edge so I write as therapy.
Here's something I came up with (warning long), and all my pede IRL friends seem to like it. Tell me what you think. If this is the wrong place, mods please delete.
And if you like it and want more, help me get it out there. Thanks Patriots!
In Fictional 2016:
“Mr. President…” “Charlie, it isn’t “Mr. President” yet” rumbled the serious faced man with his eyes glued on Wolf News, calculating and planning.
“Mr. President, respectfully, yes it is. China News Network has called it. Florida, Nevada, Iowa, they called it at 99%, you have an uncontestable lead at this point” the crisply dressed bodyguard related in a low, private tone.
“China News, really?” the serious man mused, “I didn’t think it likely at all that they would declare first, considering they’ve spent the last five months trying to frame me as a foreign intelligence asset.”
“Maybe even they can see the winds of change blowing, but more importantly Mr. President…”
“Charlie, you don’t have to be so formal with me, you’ve protected me and my family for more than twenty years. You’ve personally saved my life, twice!” the newly mandated president beamed in a rare display of deserved approval, “Remember that time in Kazahkstan? The chauffer with that strange necklace?”
Charlie rolled down his cuff, exposing a scar that wrapped around 2/3rds of his wrist and whispered laughingly “I’ll never forget it, almost lost my entire hand, but again please Mr. President, this is important and formality is necessary from this point on.”
At that moment a muffled thunder from hundreds of loudspeakers echoing from deeper within the Sports Arena blared out the end of their proclimation: "...is the 45th president of the United States!".
The tens of thousands in the stands and crowding the floor erupted into a singular ecstatic detonation of applause and cheers that literally shook the steel framework of the stadium like a bunker buster explosion that lasted seven whole minutes.
“I’ve always trusted you, and I have the best eye for people, that’s how I made my billions. Make it quick, though, I have to address my people.”
The bodyguard opened the door to the balcony, and he and the president stepped outside into the crisp night air. Even now the wild chorus of the vast crowd could be heard behind millions of tons of steel and concrete, and from the streets below firecrackers and shouting crowds joined the celebration in a wave of human victory song deeper and broader than any Rockstar could ever hope to achieve.
Even then the enormity of his accomplishment hadn’t fully registered on him. He had figured a 30% chance of a clear loss, his campaign was possibly the riskiest outsider maneuver in American history and he had accounted for this. He did not expect a record breaking electoral college victory.
“Mr. President, now that you have been elected, you will be privy to a vast amount of classified information that has been purposefully compartmentalized to protect the cohesion of our nation and the character of our culture as a whole.”
The president tilted his head, he had expected this speech but from an intelligence official or political colleague, not from one of his longtime personal bodyguards. “This information, if viewed in total will, and I am not exaggerating when I say this, absolutely and irrevocably transform your understanding of our government, the world in total, and even reality itself” the bodyguard spoke with the most serious of tones and glances.
“I tell you this to put into perspective the significance of what I am about to reveal, because you will not find it directly in any of those documents, no matter how classified. There are only ten living people who are fully aware of this knowledge, and four of them are the current living presidents, excepting yourself sir.” “Go on.” the president assented, gesturing with his hand.
“First, I represent an organization with deep historical roots that has been entwined with our government, and other governments since long before the Pilgrims blazed a trail across the ocean to start the seed of our great nation. I know it sounds…” “…Freemasons?” the president cut off, with a critical look in his eye.
“..un No, no sir. Emphatically no sir. Firstly, we predate them, and secondly, they are usually at odds with our values and goals, though not always” the bodyguard spoke rushedly.
“I see, so what is your little fraternity called?” he asked in an amused manner. “Mr. President, I promise to answer every question you have in time, though we have only a few seconds before you are expected onstage and it is very important you understand this before you can accept your new mantle of authority in good conscience.”
“I am sure you understand this to a degree, that most political and corporate entities visible to the public are fronts for more secretive organizations with ulterior goals and motives, usually controlled by a handful of ancient lineages of both blood and philosophy.”
“What you may not know is that even the names of the secret societies you recognize are also fronts, and the true agents of human change are so many levels of obfuscation behind these that no one can identify more than two or three individuals involved and there is no record of any of their lives anywhere outside of direct visual experience.”
“The Freemasons, the Bilderberg Foundation, Bohemian Grove, even the Rothschilds are all carefully crafted fronts to distract from the real puppetmasters who have directed society in one degree or another since before any nation that currently exists was even founded.”
“…The Illuminati?” the president interjected.
“No sir, that group was actually just Adam Weishaupt’s decadent hashish and orgies circle, who were incidentally almost singlehandedly responsible for introducing marijuana to the west.”
“With full candor, that group doesn’t even have a formal name. It’s gone by various monikers chosen by the rare rogue historian that dared write about them in forbidden books. Most of those brave scribes did not live very long lives for one reason or another.”
“In my chapter, we refer to them as the ‘Cult of the Yoni’, though at other times they’ve been called ‘The Furies’, ‘the Servants of the Three Sisters’, and ‘The Bloody Mouthed Mothers’ if our Sanskrit translations are correct. They are beyond ancient, and once completely controlled all of mankind. Their control was broken around the time we developed agriculture, and their ultimate desire to return to power once again. Nearly every human caused major disaster and war in the last four hundred years has been in part instigated by this cult through indirect and nefarious means.” “They control unimaginable resources and information networks throughout the world. And they are very close to achieving their final goals.”
“And you, Mr. President, are the only one that has access to enough classified, compartmentalized documentation of the highest clearance to be able to piece together the proof of their manipulation and expose it to the entire world.”
“Every president before you has been given a form of this information since the time of Washington. Up till now no president has had the desire or the capability to expose them fully. Some have acted against the Cult’s manipulations, some have assisted them, but none have exposed their nefarious plot publicly. And my society believes this is the only way to have lasting victory against the Cult.”
“If she had won, would she have gotten the same speech?”
“Yes, though in a very different form. She is the first presidential candidate with deep, direct familial ties to the Cult and her version would have been a bit different. I’ll read you that one sometime later.”
The president coughed and leaned forward as he said “Would you have given her the speech?”
“No sir, I’m your bodyguard. Someone else close to her would have been given the task.”
“Do you know who it is?” the president queried, his new responsibilities creating concern over national security.
“Again, no sir. We operate with very tight security. Most of us will never meet, and at most every member is only aware of four chapters outside their own, and at most a few dozen chapter brothers. Now that you know the truth, you will be approached by agents and assets of the Cult, most but not all will be aware that you now know of their existence and they may reveal themselves directly or try and manipulate you secretly. I will help you as much as I can while I am still by your side, though one of my brothers will take over for me as a member of your personal Secret Service team as you assume the office of President.”
“Charlie, I had hoped to keep you on as part of my personal guard. I don’t know any of these Secret Service chumps and from what you are telling me, I need to be even more sure of the loyalty of those around me than I usually am.”
“Don’t worry Mr. President, Wind Eye will be just as loyal as me, and likely more competent. He rated higher in small arms and tactics.” the bodyguard admitted sheepishly.
The door to the balcony opened to the face of the president’s most beautiful daughter, her slim features kinked in a knot of concern for her father as she spoke “Dad, they’re looking for you.”
The president lifted a strong calming hand and called out “I’ll be right inside sweetie, just soaking in the moment.”
He turned to his bodyguard and asked “How long have you known the guy they’re going to pick as one of my personal Secret Service guards, and how can you be so sure he will be selected?”
“In all humility Mr. President, you underestimate our society’s resources. I’ve known Wind since before I began working for you, sir. We trained together as part of the same chapter, alongside dozens of other people preparing to serve as agents of victory against the Cult of the Yoni. Our chapter master placed me by your side because he saw a greatness in you at the turn of the millennium that no other chapter master would acknowledge. Just as our chapter master placed Wind to be in the Secret Service. I have literally trained my entire life for this moment, to bring you into the full awareness of the enormous struggle that your presidency will encompass if you choose to fight back against this insidious and destructive cancer worming throughout all of human culture.”
A half a tear welled up in the bodyguard’s face, as he expectantly waited for his charge’s response.
“Charlie, this is a lot to take in, but I know you and you aren’t a space case or one to exaggerate. I don’t know if I can give you an answer just yet but we have some time for the transition, and I have a responsibility to greet the people of this great nation that saw the truth in my campaign. You always knew I was about shaking up corruption that eats at our liberties. This just sounds like another swamp I’m gonna drain.”
The bodyguard beamed with pride as his president walked back inside to the cheering approval of an entire world.
<<Three days later>>
“No, I’m going to get lunch myself, don’t worry, Charlie will be with me” the president replied as he ducked into his armored limo, his faithful bodyguard holding the door and scanning the crowd.
“Come on, let’s get out of here” the president urged “before they regroup.” The bodyguard ducked into the car, closing the door behind him. The president hit the intercom and commanded “The Burger King on Connecticut Ave, go the long way, around the embassies.
“Yes Mr. Pr…”
The president cut off the driver's intercom and confided to his bodyguard “I don’t like him, too many questions.”
“Maybe if you didn’t keep insisting at eating from fast food joints, he wouldn’t have so many questions.” Laughed the bodyguard.
“Can’t poison me if they don’t know when or where I’m going to eat” said the president, tapping his temple.
“And it gives me a chance to ask you about the other night, we have about 20 minutes before I start getting calls. I’ve been thinking a lot about this and it just seems so ridiculous at some times and serious at others.”
“I understand sir, it seemed the same to me when my chapter master first contacted me. Honestly it took eight months of hard research before I was onboard, and research back then was a lot more difficult than now” agreed the bodyguard.
“Nevertheless,” he continued, “everything I have spoken to you is provable and concrete truth. Maybe the most true thing humanity has ever contemplated, and the most significant. What questions can I answer for you?”
The president leaned back and stretched, his exquisitely tailored suit moving smoothly with him like a second skin.
“Wind Eye can’t be his real name.” the president stated drolly.
The bodyguard let out a small laugh and replied “No, that’s his chapter name. I don’t know his real name, or even his face. That’s part of the society. I know it sounds silly, but it has kept our members safe for thousands of years.”
“So then, what’s your chapter name?” the president asked.
“Sir, normally me revealing this to you would be cause for me to be hunted down and thrown in a small but comfortable and bricked in cell and fed through a slot until I died of old age, but seeing as you are who you are, my chapter master has made exceptions for certain policies. Though I would seriously appreciate it if you never mentioned or even thought of this again as it is pretty embarrassing.”
The president nodded, a wry smile on his face.
“Ah, my chapter name is Crazy Frog…” the bodyguard trailed off.
To his credit only a small chuckle passed the president’s lips.
“Crazy Frog, is it? Why did you pick that one?”
“Sir, I didn’t. All chapter names are issued by the chapter master.”
“Oh, can you appeal or change it?” the president asked.
“When I become a chapter master myself.”
“And is that likely?”
“You Sir, were my final exam.” the bodyguard quipped with a smirk.
“So, how do you know this Wind Eye guy if don’t know their name or have seen their face?” the president asked seriously.
“It is how the society runs, how we protect ourselves. The only person’s face I know in our chapter is our chapter master. He is the only one that goes maskless to all of our private gatherings, and every one of my chapter brothers and I all recognize his face, voice, and regalia. He was the man that recruited every one of us. Introduced every one of us. Forged all of us into a cohesive chapter and taught us the truth of the world.”
<continued in comments>
<part 2>
“So, like a cult leader?” the president asked wryly.
“No sir, I deeply respect our chapter master, he is a man of utmost integrity and capability, but he is only one chapter master in tens of thousands. Not an object of worship. There is ritual in our private gatherings that outsiders may interpret as religion, but in a very real way our society predates religion. We do these rituals to remind us of our tasks, and of the tactics of the enemy, and to build group solidarity. Our society makes no claims about a deity and only references the religious faces of the Cult of the Yoni as human organizations with unique tactical engagement requirements.”
The bodyguard went on to say “For example, I’m a Pentecostal Christian, and nothing in our society teachings has ever contravened the Bible. I would have dropped right out even before the apprentice period if I had even thought it would. In fact, with the knowledge I have gained since joining, there are parts of the Bible that seem so much more understandable to me now.”
“Ok, go on about how you know Wind Eye.” The president redirected. “Our chaptermaster introduced us to each other at our initiation. Four of us were there that day. Wind Eye, Lightning Mole, Clear Sky, and myself. We endured the initiation together and because only through working together were we able to overcome and complete the challenges. Along with the shared losses along the way, we became closer than family.”
The bodyguard leaned forward to intimate “I know it sounds terrible but if Wind Eye ever told me my very own beloved mother was a Cult asset. I would believe him. That is how deep my trust for him is.”
“Well, how can you be sure that the guy in the mask has been the same person the whole time?”
“Our society uses three signifiers of membership. The Face. We all know our chapter master, and he knows all of us, but we wouldn’t recognize each other just passing casually on the street and this is very important. When we recognize someone, there are pretty obvious unconscious visual tells. Our eyes dilate, most people experience facial responses that do not happen when being presented visually with similar images or video of strangers”
“It is an absolute fact that the Cult makes use of ubiquitous camera surveillance technology that has become available and everpresent in the last fifteen years. There are server racks full of dedicated machines doing nothing but crunching this data, and that includes as minute details as pupil dilation and unconscious face reactions. Couple this with an ever expanding database, and undercover societies and plots become trivial to root out.”
“Our predecessors have always worn masks to our secret meetings, even when the tribe was 20 people and you knew who was behind the mask because you hunted with them every day. But masks are important, symbolically then and security-wise now. If I passed Wind Eye anywhere on the street, I’d never betray unconscious recognition.”
“Second is the Voice. We all know each other’s, and this is the main way we communicate. In person, mask to mask, voice to voice. I know Wind Eye’s voice and even if he whispered it across a room I would instantly recognize it. We actually did drills to perfect this. So many drills…”
“The last is the Regalia. Every member of the chapter has a ceremonial robe of similar design and theme, denoting their rank and specialty. Chapter brothers have simple robes, with slightly more detail reserved for the chapter master. When we go to the Gathering of the Chapters once every five years, all are masked and this is how we regiment our chapter and chapter master in the throng. I can look at any other society member’s robe and know of their chapter history and their place in it. Color and symbol all have a rich library of meaning for those initiated. It’s honestly a bit breathtaking to see us all together.”
“Ok, this is beginning to sound like a frat party joke.” the president doubted, as he crossed his arms over his barrel chest.
“Sir, I know it does at first. In the coming months you may begin to feel differently. I do admit sometimes feeling a little silly doing gun drills in a full length robe but I understand our society’s need for external symbols when our identities are so partial. Plus the added challenge of managing all that heavy cloth makes training more effective” the bodyguard replied sheepishly.
“I’m getting a little tired of this ‘our society this’ and ‘our society that’ jazz dance, do you guys have a name?” the president asked pointedly.
“Again, like the Cult, we’ve had a lot of names. Most you’ve never heard of. Our chapter likes to refer to ourselves as ‘The One’, or ‘The Many as One’. It’s more of a conceptual framework than it is an actual label. Our second deepest and most ancient symbol is this:” the bodyguard spoke as he lifted his index finger on the right hand he had rested on his knee.
“This symbol is universally recognized by every member of our society and it will always draw attention and assistance.”
“Wait, you mean just the first finger thing? Counting to one?”
“Exactly Mr. president.”
“That seems pretty generic, I mean doesn’t Angela Merkel do that freemason thing with her hands? I mean at least she’s using both hands.”
“The Merkel-Raute, yes. Actually that is one of the callsigns for the Cult of the Yoni, their oldest in fact. Quite perceptive of you to pick up the connection. This is only part of the reason my chapter master put his faith in you so early.” “Merkel is with them?”
“Quite a lot of world leaders are, and billionaires. They’ve had just as long as us to acquire their assets and place their agents. Just most aren’t so obvious.” “How high up is she?”
“The general rule is ‘If they are publicly displaying signs, they are a distraction’. She is a pawn like most others. A comfortable pawn but she makes no decisions. Watch out for her though, she is one of those that know of your awareness. And she will work against you to raise her place within the Cult.” “Wait, you said the first finger was your second oldest symbol. What was the first?” the president asked.
The bodyguard literally blushed and looked off to the side, unable to meet the president’s intense scrutiny.
“It’s quite embarrassing. Mr. president, please understand that when this symbol was adopted, we had barely as a people just begun to tame sheep and cattle, it’s quite crude.”
“Tell me, I’ll take it seriously.” the president assured.
“The erect penis sir, and optionally the testicles” blurted out the bodyguard.
The president broke into sincere laughter and wheezed out “You’re telling me that all those dick drawings in school bathrooms are secret society callsigns?”
“Uh, no sir, and kind of also yes sir. The erect penis as a symbol is ancient, nearly every culture has vestiges of it. You should see some of the ceremonies they have in rural Japan nowadays.”
“But why a dick?” the president asked amusedly.
“Sir, an erect penis is a symbol of potency, of fertility and mastery, of power, of male strength and determination. It always has been. Both in seriousness and in humor. The symbol is more integrated into our society than you might expect.”
The bodyguard pointed through the limo window to the Washington Monument in the distance and said “Sir I know you will likely doubt this for the moment, but that majestic and world renown monument is Robert Mills’s homage to his membership in our society, and deliberately designed to embody facets of our secret knowledge. He was a visionary and his name will never be forgotten by any of our order.”
The bodyguard then lifted his finger again and looked meaningfully into the president’s still doubtful gaze.
“The Many as One, a lineage of men down the ages who recognize each other and work together as One to stop the threat of the overthrow of our way of life which is as ancient as the time when man first sowed seeds into the earth. All for one goal. Keeping our rightful prominence in society as the Cult of the Yoni works endlessly to demolish it.”
“Wait, this sounds a lot like sexism Charlie…” the president trailed off.
“No sir, far from it. The society believes women should thrive and be cherished for their meaningful contributions to the world. Our mothers were women, Mary was a woman. Women have many inherent qualities that men do not possess. Without these qualities life as we know it wouldn’t be possible. If anything, what many would call today’s ‘third wave feminism’ actually seeks to oppress women by removing the cherished traditional cultural protections that enabled women to achieve greatness historically for thousands of years.”
“The Cult is not only women, or if reports are to be trusted, even have women exclusively as their innermost circle. There are plenty of men that have been approached for membership and indoctrination. Even some of our own prospective brothers have been offered places in their schemes in exchange for loyalty.”
“There are also several world leaders besides Merkel, for example the King of Sweden is traditionally invited to be a moderate ranking member of the Cult since the 1600s at least.”
“Didn’t they just change their rules of succession?” asked the president.
“Indeed they did, so that any gender child can be considered the monarch. Princess Victoria will be their queen someday. And yes, it was a deliberate act to forward the Cult of the Yoni’s goals, but again since we can see it, it is likely just a distraction.”
“This is starting to make my head spin” the president said as he reached for a seltzer water from the limo’s beverage fridge.
“So let’s assume all of this is true. What am I supposed to do?” the president asked as he sipped.
“That is something only you can truly discover the answer to. Wind has been trained to help you with your research, but only you will have the security clearance to actually do it. Then when you uncover what is hidden there, and piece together the connections, you must decide what to do about it.”
The limo began pulling up to the drive through and the driver rattled off the president’s standard order.
“Charlie, I’m still not sure about this. I need to connect the dots and see where it leads, but my gut is telling me that you’re onto something big here.” the president admitted.
“Bigger than you even and even I yet know, Mr. president” said the bodyguard.