If I’ve bitten your head off recently, I’m sorry, it really wasn’t your fault.

But it probably wasn’t my fault either.

I’m going through one of those periodic bouts of exhaustion, listlessness and irritability that catch me unawares now and then, as a result of a condition I used to think of as Lyme disease. When it strikes it’s like being possessed by an alien entity. A bit like women experience when they’re having PMT (or PMS, for American readers): you think you’re in control but you’re just not.

The other day, for example, I had a nice, gentle chap come round to do a podcast interview with me. We disagreed on one or two tiny issues and normally I would have let it pass. But on this occasion I refused to let it lie. I found myself fighting to win every trivial point as if my life depended on it. At the end I had - grudgingly, because I was still all hyped up - to apologise. “I don't know what got into me”, I may have said.

Think about that phrase, for a moment. We all use it all the time. It’s so culturally embedded that we’ve long ceased to consider its underlying meaning. But what it tacitly acknowledges is the possibility that there exist entities which are capable of entering you and changing your behaviour in a bad way. It’s a linguistic hangover from the pre-Enlightenment years, when people believed in evil spirits.

I still do. Like my recent-ish podcast guest Rev Jamie Franklin, I’m very much of the view that the Enlightenment was in fact another of the Enemy’s psyops, this one to create a culture in which Christian belief was rendered almost untenable because, hey, it had been proved wrong by the rationalism and empiricism of muh science.

Franklin says of the ‘modern’ age:

“There is a sense that we all - Christian or otherwise - have a problem with belief in the supernatural, that it strikes us at a deep level as somewhat far-fetched.”

Yes. But this is programming. The supernatural never really went away.

What helped persuade me of this were the podcasts I did a while back with Jerry Marzinsky. You’ll really have to listen to them - well worth it! - to get the full amazing story…

Jerry Marzinsky, 28th April 2021 (First appearance)
https://jamesdelingpole.co.uk/Podcasts/Archive/2021-05-28-jerry-marzinsky-1

Jerry Marzinsky, 14th June 2022 (Second appearance)
https://jamesdelingpole.co.uk/Podcasts/Archive/2021-05-28-jerry-marzinsky

But, short version, Jerry Marzinsky is an award-winning Arizona psychotherapist who had remarkable success in US prisons and secure hospitals treating patients plagued by ‘voices in their heads.’

It is a cardinal rule within the psychiatric mainstream that you should never discuss with patients the voices in their heads. Marzinsky, though, was curious. And because, in prisons especially, the authorities tend to be much more lax about psychiatric protocol he was able to ask his patients the kind of questions that elsewhere would have got him sacked.

What Marzinsky established was that the voices were remarkably consistent. That is, in interviews with patients who’d never communicated with one another, he found that the voices often exhibited the same characteristics and pushed the same messages.

The voices were devious; manipulative; capable of mimicry. They were often privy to information that the patients could not possibly have known themselves. [The most extreme example was when the voices guided a patient to a remote spot, up a rough track, many hundreds of miles away to a secret cannabis farm]. Most commonly of all, the voices encouraged the patients in self-destructive behaviour and tried to steer them away from doing anything beneficial.

So, for example, if the patient showed an interest in attending church or reading the Bible, the voices would go nuts. If he started going to the gym or participating in some kind of improving workshop or course, the voices would strongly advise him against. One demon actually promised huge benefits if his victim poked his own eye out - which the victim duly did and was rewarded by much mocking laughter.

Marzinsky concluded that the voices were not internally generated but belong to external entities which preyed on his patients - usually having gained entry to their brains when the patients were heavily using drugs or alcohol. Demons, he realised, are real.

And they hate scripture. That was another thing Marzinsky discovered. After various experiments, he found that the most effective demon repellant was to get his patients to recite Psalm 23. The demons loathed it and it became part of Marzinsky’s treatment programme.

The Marzinsky podcasts remain some of the most popular ones I’ve done. Quite a few people have told me they changed their lives. They found Marzinsky’s testimony so compelling and plausible that they could no longer doubt the supernatural. It helped bring them to God.

They were certainly an important step on my Awakening journey. Not long afterwards, the notion that there are invisible demonic entities all around us was corroborated for me by a friend of mine. He admitted - shyly, because it isn’t a thing you boast about and it had caused him all manner of problems, especially when he was a child and tried confiding in a teacher - that he had been able to see these creatures all his life.

I don’t think they are necessarily the same entities which prey on schizophrenic patients. The ones my friend can see tend to congregate in places of tension, despair and aggression - bookies’ offices; pub car parks at closing time; hospital waiting rooms; and, funnily enough, weddings - and feed on the negative energy. They do so by attaching themselves to their prey with suckers. Some people are more or less immune. Others are swarming with them. A lot of it has to do with people’s state of mind: based, secure Christians are going to be much less vulnerable than someone with a drug and booze habit going through a messy divorce after his dog has just died.

Demons and demonic possession are one of those subjects that seem quite fanciful at first. But once you start looking into it - talking to exorcists, remembering what the Bible says, checking out videos of quite obviously demonically possessed people on social media, and so on - you realise that demon-denialism is not a sign of intelligence or discernment. Rather it is just another sorry example of the way our cultural conditioning has blinded us to the obvious.

Even many clergy have been fooled into thinking that demons aren’t real. A friend was somewhat disappointed to hear his otherwise sound vicar explain in a sermon on the theme of the Gadarenes swine that, of course, had Legion been around today he would more correctly have been diagnosed as suffering from mental illness. No, vicar. As Jesus well knew at the time He was addressing actual demons. And those demons haven’t gone away just because of Sigmund Freud.

One of my favourite religious autobiographies The Gurus, The Young Man and Elder Paisios includes lots of good demon stories. It’s about a young, very left wing, Greek man - Dionysios Farasiotis - who decides to put competing religious outlooks to the test by comparing his experiences with the Orthodox monks on the Holy Mountain (Mt Athos) with those among various Hindu gurus at Indian ashrams. Elder Paisios spends much of the last part of the book trying to free Farasiotis from all the demons he has brought back with him from India…

After learning about Jerry Marzinsky’s success with Psalm 23 I memorised it myself. Then I started learning various other psalms too, which I recite every day partly to keep in them in my head and partly for protection. It works. Before, I used to be plagued by a nagging, critical voice in my head telling me how useless I was, trawling my memory banks for past incidents with which it could berate me for my stupidity or incompetence, generally encouraging me to wish that I were dead. Since I imbibed the Psalter that voice has pretty much ceased.

Now I’ve no doubt that ‘sensible’ people will be able to explain this away in rational terms. The very act of concentrating on those psalms leaves no space for all those self-flagellatory ruminations, they might argue. Well, possibly. It’s a theory. But for me it’s a theory that smacks too much of that post-Enlightenment Weltanshauung I deplored earlier. It’s all part of that ‘horizontal’ view of the world - as Rev Jamie Franklin puts it - whereby we’ve been encouraged to see everything solipsistically as the product of our own minds. Whereas I now find myself much more in accord with the pre-modern, ‘vertical’ mindset in which one is always acutely conscious of inhabiting a world of God’s creation, where the material realm and the supernatural are entwined.

It makes no sense to me, for example, that God would have created man - the apple of His eye - with in-built critical voices designed to steer him towards thoughts of self-annihilation. Sure, He gave us a moral conscience, but that’s not at all the same thing. The type of voice I’m talking about is relentlessly negative and destructive and therefore inimical to God. That’s why I’m convinced that these voices are demonic and not internally generated. If I had to guess at the mechanism here, I’d say that the demons whisper these dark thoughts in order to generate the negative emotions on which they feed and thrive. Essentially, these demons are a more sophisticated form of parasite.

My theory is that there is a hierarchy of parasitic entities, all of them unleashed after the Fall. At the top of the food chain are the Big Beasts, the demons that prey on and manipulate world leaders and other agents of Satanic influence. Below them are the common or garden entities that feast on ordinary folk. And at the bottom are the parasites responsible for conditions like Lyme disease, malaria and son.

We are all, of course, riddled with lowest-tier parasites. They generally only seem to become a problem when they get out of balance and overwhelm the body’s natural defences. This is what has happened in my case with a parasite called Bartonella (which is everywhere: you can get it from everything from flea bites to cat scratches).

Yes, I’m aware that it’s more complicated than a simple case of ‘nasty parasites make everything bad.’ I know, for example, that parasites can serve a beneficial function because they feed on accumulated heavy metals. But this doesn’t mean I’m quite persuaded by the “Yay! Parasites are our friends!” camp. It’s a bit like saying: “Yay! The rats are eating all our kitchen waste!”

Having lived with Bartonella for many years now I’ve become familiar with its quirks. Most of the time, it’s barely noticeable. But when it flares up it can be quite debilitating. It drains you of all your energy - not just the routine exhaustion you might feel after a day’s work but pure bone tiredness, as if your battery has gone completely flat. What it does to you reminds me rather of what a computer virus does when it has snuck into your hard drive. It overrides all your normal functions, slows you down and messes you up. You really do feel not yourself because it no longer feels like you are in charge.

This might sound like the obsessive musings of a hypochondriac. But anyone who has suffered from one of these parasitical conditions will be able to identify with what I’m describing. The experience is akin to being hijacked. An external force takes control of your body and pushes you into behaviour patterns inimical to your best interests: you become sluggish; apathetic; you can’t think clearly (brain fog); even the smallest effort seems like too much trouble; minor inconveniences are suddenly magnified into major obstacles; you are filled with despair and self-loathing; you snap at loved ones; you pick fights with strangers. Another thing I noticed: when it’s bad I have much more difficulty remembering my psalms. I keep losing track of where I am; and I’m unable to focus on their meaning. It’s as if the entities that have taken the controls are deliberately trying to sabotage me. Just like demons would.

Which has got me wondering. We’re all familiar with the concept of Beelzebub being ‘the Lord of the Flies’: what if his rule extends over parasites too? It makes intuitive sense to me. Demons prey on human weakness and feed on negative energy. Parasites act as their little helpers.

But wait. Here is where it gets weird. When I first had the above insight I just put it down to me being a bit over-imaginative. Then I stumbled upon this…

https://jamesdelingpole.co.uk/Share/PDF/wormpill.pdf

Before you read it, buckle up. It is just about the wildest, craziest grand universal conspiracy theory that I have ever encountered. Also, what it suggests about certain minority groups will strike some people as extremely offensive, which is why I’m not going to repeat its more outlandish theorising here.

What I will try to do, though, is summarise its overarching thesis: parasites explain everything.

Well, almost everything: cancer; MK Ultra mind control; child sexual abuse and adrenochrome harvesting; the cultural promotion of alcohol, promiscuity and deviant sex; the celebration of homosexuality; chemtrails; the suppression of anti-parasitical drugs like fenbendazole and ivermectin; Stranger Things; the Babylonian mystery religions; cat ownership; dogs that can sniff out cancerous tumours; the behavioural patterns of Monarch butterflies; what’s really going on in Antarctica; the mental illness ‘epidemic’… It all connects.

Which is to say that so many of the things about our world that make no logical sense - What possible motive could anyone have for spraying us relentlessly with aluminium particles? Why are we encouraged to consume so much sugar given that it is well known to be deleterious to human health? - make perfect sense if the end goal is to cause a proliferation of parasitic infestation. Everywhere you look we are engaging in activities which help parasites to thrive.

We probably think that this is mainly just an unfortunate by-product of all the choices we have made as free-thinking consumers. But what if we’re not as in control of our behaviour as we think we are? What if They have been calling the shots all along?

Can you ride a horse? Do you fancy coming riding with me and some like-minded folk, maybe taking in some cross country jumps if you’re up for it - or just going for a hack if not?

If the answer to both these questions is “Count me in!” then read on.

Here’s the plan.

I like being on a horse, as you know. The main purpose of this exercise is for me to be on a horse surrounded by fellow bat-shit crazy conspiracy theorist loons like you. That’s it.

The location: a stables I know in Warwickshire, easily accessible by motorways, with lovely horses and a great cross country course, plus some nice hacking in the woods nearby.

It would be roughly a couple of hours riding - though could be more - followed by lunch in the stables.

They provide the horse, obviously.

I’m guessing the cost will be around the £90 mark. I’m not doing this is a money-making thing for me, event. It’s more of a “James finds another excuse to go riding while sort of pretending it’s work” event.

Those of you who don’t want to jump don’t have to. But I have to say I’m quite keen. What we might do, if there are enough jumpers is to split in to two groups so that at some point the jumpers can peel off while the happy hackers continue with their hack and we all meet up afterwards.

The jumps are not scary and are graded like ski runs. Greens for the timid (75 cm), then blues (85) reds (95) then black. Afterwards you get to paddle with the horses in the river.

Come on, fellow horse Sharklings. Let’s make this thing happen.

I’m thinking one week day some time between now and early September

Email me at [email protected] if you are interested

Obviously that isn’t quite true. Of course I still talk to Normies when, say, I’m ordering food in a restaurant or asking directions or enjoying the vicar squirming slightly as I review his sermon afterwards or inquiring of one of the grooms ‘What do I need to know about this horse?’ or we’ve been invited down the road for drinks and I have to fill what might otherwise be dead air by pontificating about the latest bollocks I’ve had to review on Netflix for my TV column…

What I mean, rather, is that I no longer talk to Normies about any of the stuff that matters. Stuff like, say, that we’ve never been to the moon, 9/11 was an inside job, the Beatles and the Stones were Tavistock Institute psyop and the world is run by Satanic paedophiles who are spraying our skies, poisoning our food and water, murdering us in hospitals and want either to exterminate us like cockroaches or to exploit us like slaves.

This information, when you think about it, is about a gazillion times more interesting, useful, and urgent than any opinion I might care to offer on, say, My Oxford Year in which the handsome but caddish-seeming don wins the young American undergraduate’s heart but then breaks it when he dies of cancer. (Sorry. Should have said. Spoiler alert).

But still I’m not going to squander my pearls of wisdom and insight on these Normie pillocks any more. I’ve had enough.

In fact, I’d already had enough about four years ago when I first had inscribed on the gigantic granite slab at the bottom of my garden in foot-high lettering picked out in black the words: YOV CANNOT TRVTH-BOMB NORMIES INTO AWAKENESS.

This time, though, I (almost) mean it. The straws that broke the camel’s back were two recent incidents in which I tried yet again to engage in a little Normie-red-pilling outreach work for the benefit of the afflicted. And after which, also yet again, I only ended up feeling underappreciated, misunderstood and, worst of all patronised.

The first incident was when I wrote a piece for the online edition of The Spectator on the subject of ‘revealing conspiracy videos which, amazingly, you can still find on YouTube’. It wasn’t necessarily the piece the editors commissioned but I decided, as a special treat, that I’d introduce the readership to areas they probably hadn’t explored before.

For example, I assumed that none of them had ever watched the videos where the late Dutch banker and Illuminati insider Ronald Bernard spills the beans on his former paymasters. Nor the long interview with Kay Griggs talking about what it’s like to discover that your perfect US marine hero husband is actually a mind controlled, secretly gay assassin working for a US Deep State kill squad. Nor the one where film producer Aaron Russo - or should I say, the late, died-quite-young film producer Aaron Russo - tells Alex Jones the extraordinarily revealing things he learned when he got befriended by a member of the Rockefellers.

When I read the comments below, I thought they’d be full of Spectator readers going: “Hey, thanks, James! I used to mock conspiracy theorists and think of them as crazy. But having watched these informative testimonies by people who quite obviously are speaking the truth my eyes have been opened. Thank you, again, thank you James! I now intend to buy loads of Bitcoin and start prepping - and I’ll never get jabbed again!”

But none of them - well, apart from one from some brave soul called Knoxville101 who wrote “Your podcasts are intelligent, articulate and a delight to listen to” - said any such thing. They largely comprised the usual pompous dismissals and desperate attempts at humour (“There’s one simple answer to everything: it was aliens”) and “a grand conspiracy? I don’t think they have the ability to organise it” copes we have come to expect from our Normie brethren.

It was, of course, very silly of me to have expected otherwise. Especially so when one remembers that the comments at sites like the Speccie’s are infested with 77th Brigade disinformation specialists, because they do love to control the narrative, our predatory elites.

Still, I can’t pretend I wasn’t a little disappointed that my playful invitation to join me down the rabbit hole hadn’t resulted in more acceptances.

My disappointment was compounded by a second incident in which I tried, unsuccessfully, to present to a Normie another example of one of those things that sounds like a ‘conspiracy theory’ but is in fact verifiable conspiracy fact. I found myself not merely rebuffed in response, but being given a patronising lecture clearly designed to put me firmly in my place by weariedly spelling out exactly what an idiot I was through the medium of a conventional-narrative history lesson.

I call this behaviour Normsplaining.

Most often you encounter it with people who’ve studied a science at university. They’ll Normsplain with a response that often includes the phrase ‘Basic Physics’, the implication being that you lack the education and understanding to grasp whichever immutable scientific ‘truth’ they’re trying to inflict on you.

“Ah, silly me! What would I know? I’m a mere arts graduate,” you’re expected to giggle with a girlish toss of your head.

What they don’t quite appreciate - because they’re Normies - is that they might as well be citing ‘Unicorn Magic’ for all the difference it makes to the credibility of their argument.

So here was this Normie, trying to impress me with his Unicorn Magic, and feeling - I could tell - really quite pleased with himself as he was doing so. It reminded me of one of those old school headmaster types who gives you a vigorous caning, not because he’s a secret perv who likes thwacking little boys’ bums, but, damn it, because you’ll thank him for it one day because he’s giving you a lesson you’ll never forget.

Traditionally on these occasions, you are supposed to say - on rolling up your trousers - “Thank you, sir!” for the thrashing that has just been inflicted on you.

Probably this would have been the ideal Christian response: turn the other cheek.

Or, in this case, turn the other butt cheek.

Unfortunately, being a rubbish Christian, I couldn’t just shake the dust off my feet and move on. I just had to do something to vent my frustration at being talked down to in this annoying way. So what I thought I’d do - and I hope God will forgive me if this is out of order, but I do think it will bring consolation to a lot of fellow Awake people who’ve had a similar experience - is express myself in this open letter to Normies.

Dear Normies,

First, I want you to know that we in the Awake community love you very much. Well, most of us do. I do hear some hardcore Awake types saying you had what was coming to you when you took the death jabs just so you could go on holiday. But I disagree. You were sold those ‘safe and effective’ vaccines on a false prospectus at the dog-end of a military grade psyop designed to reduce you to a state of panic, fear, confusion and desperation. Of course it wasn’t your fault. And even if it was, just a teeny tiny bit, I/we still love you because most of our friends and families are Normies, and you’re all made in God’s image.

Also, by the way, we can totally empathise with you. We know exactly why you think the way you do because once upon a time, before our Awakening, we too were Normies.

But, Normies, just because we love you and empathise with you and fully understand where you’re coming from doesn’t mean we’re prepared to take any shit from you on what you imagine to be the true nature of the world.

We don’t care if you’ve got a PhD because we’re not impressed by the credentialism of a broken, corrupt and compromised academic system. We don’t care if you’ve read lots of books because they’re mostly, likely, Normie books published in order to reinforce a particular narrative which we know to be false. We don’t care if you’re a high flier at the top of your professional game because we know how the Beast system works and whom it tends to reward. And we don’t care about your ‘science’ and your ‘history’ because we know that most of it is fake. Your entire paradigm, in fact, is bollocks.

You don’t understand any of this, we appreciate that. But we do understand it. And there’s the irreconcilable difference between us.

Love, James