human – Readi-Bay

Let The Wrinklies Roar

Please Click The Image Above – And Follow Along Below:

Turn up the amps, let the old boys roll,
There’s a storm on the horizon and fire in the soul,
They’re talking ‘bout a Reset, they’re talking ‘bout time,
Saying fifty is the number when you cross that line.

They say, “Old timer, your memory’s done,
Your body’s just a number, your living is run,”
But we’ve danced through the decades,
we’ve lived through the pain,
And nobody’s taking our memories again.

Hey! Hey! — Can you hear that sound?
The old guard’s shaking but we’re still around!
Hey! Hey! — Let the speakers explode,
We ain’t ready yet for that compost road!

They’ve got a chip for your memories, wired to your brain,
A digital box to preserve what remains,
Every kiss, every heartbreak, every highway ride,
Stored in a circuit with nowhere to hide.

Then down to the compost, where the old bodies go,
Underneath the worms where the wild things grow,
Turn us into dinner for the bugs underground,
What a hell of a future they’ve got planned for this town!

Hey! Hey! — Can you hear that sound?
The old guard’s shaking but we’re still around!
Hey! Hey! — Let the speakers explode,
We ain’t ready yet for that compost road!

They call it progress, they call it the plan,
They call it efficiency for the modern man,
But somewhere in the shadows, behind every door,
You’ve gotta wonder who’s keeping the score.

**The Few! The Few!** — that’s the name they cry,
While the rest of us shuffle beneath their sky,
Just enough protein, just enough breath,
Just enough living till there’s nothing left.

But crank up the guitar, let the old records spin,
We’ve got a lifetime of rebellion within,
From Woodstock thunder to London town nights,
We learned that freedom was worth every fight.

So remember your memories, remember your name,
Don’t let a machine decide your place in the game,
For no silicon circuit, however divine,
Can bottle the fire of a human mind.

Hey! Hey! — We’re not fading away!
We’ve got one more chorus and something to say!
Hey! Hey! — Let the old engine roar,
We’ve been here before and we’ll be here some more!

So raise up your glasses, let the old speakers scream,
We’re still chasing freedom, still living the dream,
And if they come knocking with their grand new decree,
We’ll shout back together:…….

“You don’t own me!”

Very soon, Us Oldies won’t need to worry about remembering ‘anything’ because come 2030 and – ‘The Great Reset’ – 50 Years Old will be our ‘Expiry Date’ and We’ll walk into the ‘De-Funk’ Machine – Our Memories will be stored on Elon Musk’s Neuro-Link Chip and the old Bio-Mass that is our body will be designated a spot on the ‘compost heap’ that matures and ferments into food for ‘the food’ – Insects, Bugs, Worms etc …. That the remains of humanity will feed on to provide just enough protein to keep them alive during their subservience to; **TheFew** …. Whatd’ya Reckon?? – EH? ….

Please Comment Below – And Check Out The Other Posts & Pages On This Blog – Thank You … Pete

Disclosure Day – Or PSYOP Day

Has Steven Spielberg been used – yet again, as a conduit for a ‘Disclosure Day’ that has nothing to do with alien life, attacks, or interference, but everything to do with diverting our eyes and minds towards the unimaginable, while the levers of power put final plans in place to imprison the whole population of the world inside ‘the global village’ where ‘No1’ makes every decision for us

Please Click The Image Above – And Follow Along Below:

We were promised disclosure, the truth brought into sight,
Instead we’re fed strange fragments in the dead of every night.

Files Presidents can’t open, sealed beyond their hands,
Hidden by ‘The Few’ who rule from shadowed lands.

Bodies from recovered craft, they whisper, stored away,
Evidence of other worlds they swear will never see the day.

Human hybrids, secret schemes, forbidden lines crossed through,
Questions multiply each hour, while answers stray from view.

Egg-shaped objects hanging still, where time itself runs slow,
Minutes stretching into hours, where no natural laws can go.

Witnesses come forward, yet the gatekeepers remain,
Pouring doubt on every voice, while tightening every chain.

A silent war is raging far behind the public screen,
Between those seeking daylight and the powers in-between.

Is it truth or is it theatre, the grandest psyop spun?
A labyrinth of lies designed to blind us, one by one.

Extra-terrestrial traces, inter-dimensional signs,
Pieces of a greater picture hidden deep between the lines.

Every thread they fear we’ll pull, every file they’ll defend,
Points toward a secret they will carry to the end.

And what of all the movies that conditioned us for years?
Planting seeds within our minds and watering our fears.

Was Spielberg just a messenger, a conduit once more,
Preparing us to face a truth – unlike the tales before?

Not invasion from the heavens, not attacks from distant stars,
But prison walls constructed – through technology and scars.

While all eyes watch the spectacle and chase the latest clue,
The architects of power build a world entirely new.

A global village rising where dissent is swept aside,
Where every thought is monitored and nowhere left to hide.

One hand upon the levers, one voice above the rest,
Deciding who may prosper – and determining the blessed.

Who shall live and who shall serve, who’ll vanish from the page,
Reduced to bio-machines inside a gilded cage.

Neither fully dead nor living, bound from birth until the grave,
Conditioned into servitude and taught they should behave.

For the elite’s perverted needs, and their ever-growing throne,
While billions trade their freedom for a safety not their own.

So cut through all the noise before the final curtain falls,
Before the locks are fastened tight upon invisible walls.

Because the truth they’re hiding isn’t only in the sky,
It’s who controls tomorrow — and the reason why.

We were promised disclosure.

What we’re getting instead is something a lot stranger.

We need to cut through the noise — because what is laid out for our future is hard to stop thinking about.

Files the President himself reportedly can’t access. About breeding human hybrids from alien species/Non-human bodies found in recovered UFO craft.

The Egg-shaped objects and reports of time behaving differently around them.

And a quiet war between the people pushing for disclosure and the people determined to keep the lid on it.

Is this real, or is it the most elaborate PSYOP we’ve ever been kettled into?

The extra-terrestrial, inter-dimensional happenings and physical evidence – everything those hiding the real files do not want pieced together.

Has Spielberg been used yet again, as a conduit for a ‘Disclosure Day’ that has nothing to do with alien life, attacks, or interference, but everything to do with diverting our eyes and minds towards the unimaginable, while the levers of power put final plans in place to imprison the whole population of the world inside ‘the global village’ where ‘No1’ makes every decision for us, including whether We live, Die or Serve as a bio-mechanical-machine, neither Alive nor Dead as We know it, but slaving from birth-to-death as ‘playthings’ for the perverted Elite of ‘The New World Order’ – As He has done through his whole career?

Please Comment Below – And Check Out The Other Posts & Pages On This Blog – Thank You … Pete …

Did SATAN Fund Only-Fans

“The Devil’s Whisper: A Poem on Lust, Technology, and the Fall of Love”

A dark poetic reflection on lust, technology, and the devil’s subtle plan to unravel love, family, and society from within.

Please Press Play Above And Follow Along With The Poem Below.

I whispered soft in mortal ears, a sly, seductive plan,
To twist the ways of love and birth, and slowly cull out Man.
Not poison’s cup, nor bombs in flight, would serve this wicked art,
But subtler snares of lust and fame would play the greater part.

The youth grow wise to war’s old game, they question every fight,
So I must weave a clever net, concealed beneath the night.
I tried to blur the lines of flesh, with tricks of form and name,
But fleeting was that masquerade—it fizzled into shame.

I’ve long abused both love and lust to get things as I please,
Since Seventies’ sweet, swirling days, I’ve brought you to your knees.
Why fix what’s never broken down, why mend a perfect snare?
I’ll twist the bond of hearts and vows, till none are left to care.

I’ll make your unions sour and cold, your partnerships a chore,
So breeding halts not by decree, but choice you can’t ignore.
Then came the net, my gift to you, and social scrolls divine,
I mixed the two, a wicked brew, a trap by my design.

A stage was built where youth could sell their charms to eager eyes,
“OnlyFans,” I whispered sweet, “where dreams and dollars rise!”
And millions came, with painted lips, to dance before the screen,
Their beauty turned to currency, their virtue wiped clean.

And men—oh men!—what will they shun, when choosing for a bride?
A “loose” delight, a fleeting night—they’ll turn and step aside.
Thus love decays, the cradle’s cold, the birth rate starts to fall,
While I, in shadows, laugh and watch the ruin of it all.

You handed me the keys yourselves, to lock away your fate,
With lust as bait, you sealed the door, your end you helped create.
No battles raged, no poison spread, just hunger and a screen,
The oldest trade reborn anew—oh, devilishly keen.

So when you pose, or when you pay, to sate your fleeting flame,
Remember who first lit the match, who whispered you the game.
It’s I—yes, Satan—grinning wide, as mankind slowly wanes,
For pleasure bought with empty hearts will shatter all your chains.

SO! – Did ‘I’ Fund ‘Only Fans’?

Did I fund ‘Only Fans’? Well I certainly put the idea into the head of one of my many disciples.
You see, I needed to slow down the birth rate of Humanity, so that over the long term, only the Evil Humans would be left on Earth. Then all I had to do was ‘light the flame’ and They would simply ‘increase’ the number of their Own kind than they do right NOW!

SO! How do I manage this without Poison or even More! Wars! Because the younger Generations are getting ‘Sussed’ on the purpose of wars and could shut them down completely by the time the next generation become young adults. So what’s to be done?

I tried the Trans, biological sex trick, but that didn’t last too long, I was found wanting fairly quickly on that one, so I had to think HARD yet again. Now I know you’ve read about how I like to abuse Sex and Love to get My own way, and it’s been super-successful since the 1970’s. So why not use it Yet again? After all, why FIX what ain’t BROKE! EH?

That’s when I realised the safest way to get RID of all you ‘Good people’ out there is to stunt your birth-rate – Permanently! – What better way than to make marriage or partnerships SO distasteful that You would all just voluntarily STOP! Breeding? … Excellent Plan – I’m sure You’ll all agree.

Now previously I told You how I gave You the internet and My Saviour – ‘Social Media’ – So I thought I’d combine the two to give you the perfect ‘divider’ – ‘Only Fans’ .. Where mainly young Girls/Ladies could go and earn some REAL MONEY to fund the Lifestyle-Of-Their-DREAMS! – And SO They Did! – Millions of them 🙂 🙂 🙂

And What! Do the Blokes/Lads/Fella’s NEVER want to marry, or form a lasting relationship with? – Yep! – ‘A Loose Woman’ … So You See! SEX! Does it AGAIN! It’s just SO! Predictable and Easy! You good folk just handed Me the keys to Oblivion – My Natural Habitat! – Where I shall go and Live – Forever More! – After Your Birth Rates have become unsustainable on the back of one of the Simplest Ideas Ever – The Glorified ‘Oldest Trade’ in the book – And all of You Frustrated, sex-hungry blokes are PAYING to rid Yourself! – Of Yourselves.

When You next Preen & Pose for ‘Only Fans’
Or you Login to get Your Daily/Hourly FIX!
Think Of ME! SATAN!! … Love Ya Baby 🙂 🙂 🙂

“The Devil’s Whisper: A Poem on Lust, Technology, and the Fall of Love”

Please Press Play Above And Follow Along With The Poem Below.

SO! – Did ‘I’ Fund ‘Only Fans’?

SEE! .. ‘If I Were SATAN’ .. Here! ..