Hidden World of the Overman

This article is full of issues best described through fiction, although much of it is either rooted in history, or is in fact theory based on sound observations.  Some of those observations may be difficult to accept.  But that’s not my problem.  My job is to write it down so you, (the reader), can visualize.  Understanding is up to you.


A sturdy bridge expands the mote to the front door, which is imposing. The castle is not huge by normal standards. Such places may be thought of as mansions, but not this place. It was larger than a normal house, but certainly not too large for a small family. Leopold noted the corrugated metal roof disguised cleverly with the spires topping off rotundas at each corner of the castle. The whole thing looked like the dream of a typical 7 year old boy. It wouldn’t be surprising to find the mote filled with alligators, or sea monsters, if the reputation of Fletcher Finnegan could serve as testimony.

As he and the General walked the wide, rail less bridge, their feet thudded against the wood with each step. It took longer than they wanted to cross the bridge where an oppressive door awaited them. It was medieval looking by design but made of steal.

“This is the epitome of paranoia,” Leopold gasped as he searched for a door bell of some kind. “Surely there must be some kind of ringing device. He can’t expect visitors to knock on the door?”

The General just shrugged off the comment and gave the door a violent bang with his fist. “We’re not here for tea. This is a criminal and justice must be served.”

The General’s knocks rang off. They could tell by the sound that the room was cavernous on the other side, and knew that whoever was inside would clearly be able to hear. Within a few moments, there was the sound of something unlatching, and the big door opened inward. In the doorway stood the mythical Fletcher Finnegan, with a fresh white shirt, looking like a character from a never written book called Warrior’s from Pirate Island. His gaze was firm, and manner easy even to the point of relaxed. He wore casual jeans, and some well polished black shoes. Two bullwhips hung from his hips from unusual holsters attached to his belt. The handles pointing out looking like samurai swords ready to leap into action. His hair was extremely short, and his face was determined and attractive. His green eyes, deep and penetrating, could burn a hole through anybody with the gaze he laid on them.

“Welcome,” said Fletcher in the charismatic manner he had become known for. His motions mimicking great linguists with audacious hand movements not out of respect, but seemingly of disdain. “I have been expecting some sort of response such as this.”

Leopold traded uneasy glances at the General who tried to bury his concern, but was having a hard time of it. That concern was well founded. Here stood a man that had single handedly defeated a number of Special Forces experts, and legions of law enforcement over the last year. He had announced his terrorist intentions back then by portraying a masked night bandit practicing vigilante behavior outside of the law. He had killed Mayor Goodman from this town of Fort Seven Mile and had maimed and killed others as well since that time.

Leopold was maybe for the first time in his life of 44 years, speechless. But with a few deep breaths, words came to his mouth. “We have come to discuss the peril you bring mankind. “

Finnegan’s response, “You have brought a crooked tongue in an attempt to skew deceptions into a manageable forum.”
“How could you know my tongue is crooked if you do not know me,” Leopold found himself saying.

“Because men such as yourself let your tongue direct your feet, and as I watched you cross my bridge, you walked crooked.”

“There you would be wrong. I am quite educated, beyond taking direction from feet, or other bodily limbs. My peers at Princeton have had more to do with where my feet take me than the feet themselves.” Leopold was proud of himself for establishing his intellectual superiority. He had done his homework on Fletcher Finnegan. Finnegan had dropped out of college several times over the years, and before winning the lottery a few years back, had worked many odd jobs just to make a living for his family. He had married young, and had two children just shy of adolescence. Leopold placed his bets that somewhere within Finnegan’s exterior of security hid a dark, nasty secret of some social insecurity. It was quite obvious that he struggled in school and that was the reason for his college issues. This was why Finnegan was reputed for using such large vocabulary and projected himself as superior to all other men so as to protect his fragile ego and the reality that he couldn’t compete in an academic environment.

But Fletcher smiled. “I can see this will be entertaining if nothing else. And who have you brought with you?”

The General stepped forward his girth outreaching his hand if he had offered it for a hand shake. “You can just call me, General. No other name need apply to you. I have a legion of troops at my disposal at the edge of this town awaiting the outcome of this visit. If peace can not be found here, I will instruct them to take this residence with all the force needed. If you’ll do what’s right, you will spare the needless destruction to the homes of your neighbors by surrendering now and coming with me immediately!”

Fletcher gave the General a deep look. “I have a new name for you. I will call you Fat Man. It is much more appropriate than what you said. For your mind seems to reflect your appearance, and that is not sharp, let me assure you. Your ideas about the role you play in my life are as wide as your waistband when the reality is truly just a lot of undigested waste. Bring your legions and they will fall as those that came before you fell. Mind yourself while in my residence. I’ll warn you only once.”
The General was not used to this kind of talk directed toward him. “I have been given a division of troops to deal exclusively with you. The pentagon is now involved in your escapades and that does not bid well for you.”

“You seem very impressed with the power you command.” Fletcher moves a bit closer to the Major General. “But my strategy is set knowing that you command them.”

The Major General is aghast. “You are in no position for insults!”

“I do not take threats from a man claiming to command legions of troops when he can’t even govern himself.” Fletcher smiled and pointed to the inflated girth of the General around his waste. “It would seem all you can manage is putting food in your mouth.”

The General had enough. He stood and pulled a gun to fire.

The Major had been briefed on Cliffhanger, which was the name the media had
given Fletcher Finnegan in the early days of his vigilante behavior. He knew of his incredible speed. He knew he had single handedly beat a professional hit man and several of his personal assistance. But the understanding of that speed could not be fathomed until this moment.

Fletcher rolled out of his seat as the bullet screamed from the brandishing Colt 45 and buried itself into the chair. In an instant, Fletcher had a whip in his hand and slashed the gun from the General before an eye could blink. The gun flew uneventfully across the dining room into the corner. Fletcher, determination dominating his face stood satisfied that the General was now plagued with so much self doubt, that he’s no longer a serious threat.

“It would also seem that your fingers have inherited much from your waist. They are too slow to consider pulling a trigger against me.” Fletcher throws the whip over his shoulder and returns to his seat, first examining the hole that’s now in it. The shot would have been a good one right through the heart if Fletcher had not moved.

Leopold Smith searches Fletcher’s face for some psychological hint of doubt. “You’re quite impressed with yourself. You must of course realize that this desire you have for perfection must derive from insecurities.” Leopold licks his lips in nervousness. “I’d expect at the very least professional courtesy with this visit.”

Fletcher smiles, “Professional courtesy, interesting choice of words. The term “professional behavior” denotes evasive politeness to disguise the aggressive nature of business. It is an unethical practice that opens too many possibilities for misunderstanding, which is the intent. The cowards that practice this behavior always leave open a back door for them to retreat within when times get tough. The blame always falls to the hand of misunderstanding.”

The General still has not closed his mouth. He had never seen in his life such unwavering confidence and speed. He took a few steps in the direction of the nearest chair and plopped himself into it. Only now did he take the time to look about the large opening room to this castle home of this unusual warrior and admiration couldn’t help but come to him.

Leopold could see what was going on with the General. After all, the General was a military man and force was something he understood. Most often, intelligence gathering required hundreds of resources just to acquire scant bits of data, and that data was acted on with the threat of superior firepower. Here was a family man, with a home. Not an average home, but the man was far from average. He oozed paradoxes with every movement, and words that sprung from his lips like an Olympic fencer. He was a man of paradoxes not because what he said was untrue, or he emitted qualities of a contradictory nature, but that he himself was challenging the course of mankind and everything that it seemed to mean to our entire species. And he did it with the self-confidence of champion athlete.

Fletcher was studying Leopold and could surely read his thoughts by the way those eyes dissected him. Leopold had never had that experience from a patient.

“Why don’t you tell me who sent you and why,” Fletcher finally let out.

“There’s no secret there, Mr. Finnegan. You know surely by now that you are the world’s enemy. That if you did not live here in this community, so close to town, that you would be utterly destroyed with a nuclear weapon, which may still be an option. Nobody wants civilians killed, and nobody wants to evacuate an entire town just to destroy you. I honestly don’t think you want that either, after all, you came to all this trouble protecting people, so I’d venture to gamble that you don’t want civilian casualties either. Am I wrong?”

Fletcher smiled a bit before answering, “Of course not.”

“Well, at least we can agree on something. That’s a start.” Leopold studied Fletcher’s reaction to that. It was important to pull the patient into an agreeable setting right from the start if possible. It gave them something to build upon. “I was asked to see you by the highest levels of the Pentagon at direct request by the President. He is under tremendous pressure from the world’s governments to act quickly on this. Your terrorist exploits have caught the attention of the very powerful as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“I am aware that the world has taken a disproportionate notice on my activities, which to me provides credibility to my original claims and reveals my true enemies through their actions. I don’t blame you for not understanding the complexity of this quagmire. You are as much a part of it as I am.” Fletcher looked almost sympathetic to Leopold at that moment.

“This meeting is an attempt to urge your surrender in the hope that more bloodshed will not be necessary.” Leopold paused for dramatic reasons hoping he had earned Fletcher’s trust. “Your revolution has been noted. Your beliefs have found a foundation. My job here is to listen to you. To provide that platform you seem to desire. To provide an outlet that does not result in more killing.”

“Or the General will unleash his troops.” Fletcher looked over to see if the General was paying attention, and he was.

“That is correct, Mr. Finnegan. If Mr. Smith fails to reach you today, and force your surrender with reason, then I will call all the military might I command to end your rebellion before the sun drops over the horizon.”

Fletcher looked unfazed and unreachable by these threats. “So, I see you have not met your true, bosses?”

Leopold smiled a bit at that. “I had heard that you had some interesting theories. And let me say before you start that you seem to be highly intelligent, and to consider what you tell me carefully. Theories of conspiracy, especially by extra-terrestrials, and other outlandish organizations are clear signs of severe psychological disorders. I already suspect as I reviewed your case file, that you have suffered numerous mental deficiencies such as dementia, senile dementia to be more specific. You are known to spend tremendous amounts of time alone, and this would make you prone to this disorder even at your relatively young age.”

Fletcher leaned forward a bit still smiling. “I can see we have a long way to go here. I will play this game, not because I hope for a peaceful end, but because there are many questions and answers I would like to answer and propose. But do not think you are here for the President, or for the UN. The real masters use these titles for their personal folly. They have since the beginning of mankind. You are merely smoke from the mirrors of their reality.”

Leopold loved what he was hearing. With great excitement he wrote down what Fletcher just said. “Classic, because it fills your fantasy of dementia.” Leopold was enthusiastic. “Why don’t you start from the beginning? Tell me the root of your conspiracy. Who sent me to you?

Fletcher paused and looked contemplative. “If you wish, but I warn you. You will not leave my home today with the same outlook at life that you entered it with.”

“In between the realities of our four dimensional space we will, most likely beyond those limits exist a race of living intelligence. This living intelligence is as real as any nation we speak of, and their motives are no different from any of mankind’s. Therefore, caution must always be applied when dealing with them, for without knowledge of their existence and needs, motives cannot be determined. The so called Mothmen are a breed of cavalry that zip in and out of our dimensional reality as scouts for their war which is waged upon our entire race. The goal of this war is to keep us in a depleted state and unaware of their mechanisms and lust for control. Ultra-terrestrials will stop at nothing to prevent man from achieving the realm of the Overman.” Fletcher studied Leopold and the General to measure their reaction.

Leopold was trying not to laugh, but was not able to contain his contemptuous smile. “So you believe we are at war with a species of beings that we can’t see. You call them, Ultra-terrestrials.”

Fletcher was aware of the condemnation but paid it no attention. He wasn’t going to convince this agent of normality to alter his entire world view with just a few sentences. “Mind tricks are their key strategy and false truths that lead to fruitless pursuits of a time-consuming nature dominate their tactics. Their influence can be traced back through our entire human history and have often been poorly categorized as demons, devils, angels and other religious symbols. It is through religious symbols that they conduct their illusions using as a stage those beliefs which masquerade the show’s directors and producers. For all across this planet, intertwined with all our established systems and institutions, religion holds many minds fixed in a state of depraved knowledge where the would be questioning mind restrains from pushing against those barriers for fear of death. Fears put in place from the beginning of time, through mythology by ultra-terrestrials. This is why being fearless is the paramount ingredient of the Overman, for on the fearless tract of adventure, no map has been graphed. It is in these uncharted waters that fear begins to work in the overman’s favor because the ultra-terrestrials begin to feel it themselves.”

“An Overman, you state the term Nietzsche uses in his book, Thus Spoke Zarathrustra.”

“You are showing a bit of literary prowess, very good.”

Leopold felt himself fluster a bit at earning some respectful praise from Fletcher Finnegan. “I was briefed that you used the term to justify your position. What is an Overman exactly, as you see it?”

Fletcher looked contemplative. “You ask me what an Overman is. I say to you that it is embracing the concept of being more than just human. It is in accepting your fate that life is meant to be lived now as well as later. At all times, as an individual, you are in control of your vessel as you navigate through a jagged life. And at times, when you meet with another independent soul, that you may come into conflict with them by the will of nature and that this conflict is needed and healthy. When you come to these times of war, you should fight with all your vigor and enjoy the spilling of blood, especially if it is your opponents. You should enjoy it because if their goal was to stop your ability to exercise free will then you have used your free will to destroy the devices that could hinder you.”

Leopold already had the words in his mouth. “Hitler believed similar things as you do. He too was a lover of Nietzsche and professed the need for a higher form of mankind.”

“Hitler was a fascist. That is different from what I propose. His feeble mind only grasped the power of the Overman. His vision of a superior race of man was driven from his involvement with the Vril society and other occult practices that have their roots in our hidden history. It’s in our lack of acceptance of this hidden history that we fail to understand the evil of Adolf Hitler and to this day cannot mutter a word of his decadence. His psychosis was driven from a mixed fascination with power and history. The Overman idea was native to Germany and was an easy rally for the nation to justify their derangement.”

“True enough, but what gives you the right to judge all of civilization? That is as haughty as Hitler’s position.” Leopold knew he had Fletcher on that one. Here was a man that championed himself a savior and Leopold was comparing him to the vast evil of Hitler.

But Fletcher was un-phased, like he had been waiting on Leopold to say just such a thing. “‘Judge not least thee be judged.’ What banter from roaches that crave the darkness to hide their malicious ways! What does this statement promise but peace? ‘Don’t judge me, and I won’t judge you.’ To me this is a declaration of war, because, it implies a consequence for the act of judging.”

Leopold is astonished. “With your heretical muttering you mock the words of Jesus Christ! Do you consider yourself an atheist, because such comments will surely plant you in Hell!

“An atheists, I am certainly not. To assume I am some sort of agnostic, nonbeliever shows the magnitude of your limited thinking. To say that “God” is all there is and all there will ever be is to say that the Earth is just all there was or is. And the holder of all life on this planet is our supreme king and has domination over our entire existence with and without flesh. No. Your definitions are infantile. You assume all that is known now is all that will be known. I have seen evidence that we as a race have forgotten more than we have progressed. And at the heart of that lost knowledge is your need to look to a leader, or a god to take responsibility for your meager lives. Once this king is in power, power that you give him, his fetus like ego clings to that power like the infant clings to its mother’s breast for milk. The infant believes, and I think we can agree on this, that the mother’s breast exists only for its feeding.”

“So you propose that your outlook on life exceeds the importance of even religion? That is an insane proposition. Absolutely insane,” Leopold contends while adjusting his comb over with one of his hands.

Fletcher lets out a laugh. He is confident and completely un-rattled by Leopold’s orthodox grip on reality. “It takes just a small spark where everyone thought it was impossible, and once that myth is dispelled, the flood gates open, and the impulse to create springs forth. The Overman always stays ahead of those fools that clamor after his heels with desperation. Their drive is not from their own domains, but are copy cats of divine design. Humor flows from the coat tails of the mimics as they pursue the Overman’s shadows. But in this wake to those of common thinking, the appearance of authority is a terror. Terrible in that to the meager mind, the mere ripples of something greater than simple men sets those complacent minds into fearful recollections bridging into childhood fortifications.”

“You speak out of your authority. I am the psychologist here and I will determine what the origins of childhood fortifications are.”

Fletcher is ruthless. “We will cover your need for titles later. You asked me to reveal to you the contents of invisible empires and the thoughts of an Overman. I will not be limited in this discussion by your boundaries. You can either keep up with me, but you will not hinder me. Is this clear?

Leopold found himself nodding yes before he could consider a proper reaction to the question.

Fletcher continues before Leopold can open his mouth. “This is why men do not see much of what exists. The name of what they don’t understand is reflective of the minds that construct them. They call God, God. No explicit name, but an all encompassing title to attempt to wrap these mysteries in a meaning applicable to human lifetimes. They call UFO’s by the broad title of, unidentified flying object, because they can’t identify things beyond their comprehension.

“By setting high standards judging is part of the process of determining the value of one set of standards against another. How can this be determined if judging is not utilized? So to endorse a non-judgmental stance at life, one basically proclaims to accept low standards because only there can all be equal in one nice bowl of soup to be consumed by those that feed off life. That is what you do when you eat, you feed yourself to live. So always there is something out there looking to feed off you. If you are not the best, the strongest, the fastest, smartest or anything that has put you ahead of the pack you make yourself an easy target for those that are hungry.

“The peace lover is the one that would rather take their chances in the great soup, and hope that by odds, they will not be eaten. This flock-like behavior is indicative of herbivores, and oddly enough, peace loving humans. They feel safe in the numbers of the herd. But when the carnivore comes along, someone will be eaten. Then and only then, will they care. And life seems so unfair at those times.”

Leopold doesn’t know what to say. He looks wounded as the foundations of his reality clash with this strange man.
Fletcher gets up from his chair and paces the area between him and Leopold not out of a need to intimidate but because explosive passion radiates from Fletcher Finnegan, and it is too powerful to be contained within a chair. “I watched a cat once stare out a window to the world outside and I knew it was perplexed as to what that world was like. You see, it was a domestic cat, and had grown used to being fed, and lounging on sofas and relative luxury. And like the cat, men stare out the windows of life and think the whole world is within our little homes draped with simple luxuries. In the meantime, the world outside rolls at a feverish pace. Much of that world is invisible to the cat because it lacks the intelligence to see it. And men lack the intelligence just like their friends the cats, to see beyond the visible spectrum of the human eye.
“The Overman seeks the impossible for the impossible is reserved for limited thinking. Such words mean nothing. It’s the realms that most would crumble into dust, and suffer health ailments that the Overman flourishes. Stress rules as the monarch to the logic clinging bastions of mediocrity, those common men who flutter like bubbles of urine dispelled from a farm animal into a swift country stream to be washed away swiftly into the rivers and oceans of the world. From those silly bubbles espouse much of the world’s gossip in the remote hope that they will somehow find redemption from eliminating a superior opponent.”

Leopold is aghast at the energy coming off Fletcher Finnegan. The man doesn’t stop. Like a rock rolling downhill, he seems to just pick up more and more momentum. “I believe you are clinically insane. I can see that from the outset.”
Fletcher pauses a moment and captures Leopold’s eye. “Where the listener would respond something like, ‘Oh, I know what you mean. I’m in the same situation. I tried to get a round of golf in the other day, and just couldn’t do it.’ There isn’t any discussion that even though both parties are seeking to show one another how much more important the other is they are essentially both equal, and this may seem ok with them at that moment, because they are both confirming that they are lofty captains of industry, too busy for games. But what they fail to understand is that their wives are eyeing the stock boy and making plans for naked adventures with adolescent boys uncorrupted with enterprise and full of life vigor. Life marches on and leaves these silly bubbles bursting at mid-life with nothing to show for their pitiful lives but high blood pressure and obese stomachs toped with a turkey neck and some deranged back hair. While they have acquired cars and fancy garments to impresses young ladies and peers, the only people that truly find them attractive is prostitutes, because their money is green.”

Leopold is confused. “What does anything you just said have anything to do with what we were talking about?”
“Because you are a mere bubble in the grand scheme of things, ready to pop uneventfully at the conclusion of your life, and you search for meaning in your occupation in the arms of strange females.”

Leopold is startled by that comment. He had in fact purchased a prostitute the night before, and was confused that Fletcher could say such a thing. He couldn’t possibly have known about it. “We aren’t talking about me, this discussion is about you.” Leopold considers his next comment carefully. He looks over at the General for some reassurance, but the General has fallen into a trance. He grips his radio instead of a gun in hopes that should he need to call help, he’d have a quicker response from outside help than his own abilities with a gun. That said a lot about his state. “Do you consider yourself a savor, a savor of mankind?”

“Not a savor of mankind. But of myself.”

“This returns us to the element of religion, and your obligations to the greater good.”

Fletcher is now burning a hole through Leopold with his look. “That says a lot about you. You say I am wrong to call myself my own savior. My response is simple, what fool would consider anybody else their savior? For the answers to ones life is inside you. To look externally and place the responsibility on someone else is weak in the highest degree. To accept Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, anyone as your savior is a laughable task on a collision coarse for life long destruction. I would never think of considering the advice of anyone I’ve never met personally especially based on the third hand interpretation of their teachings. You have to look a person in the eye and assess their value, and only then can you determine their intent.”
“Religion provides a way to establish priorities in your life, priorities that reflect the greater good of mankind.” Leopold was satisfied with himself. “I have worked with many prisoners, and religion has helped many of them become much less violent and has given their lives meanings.”

“The most important thing for the male is not food, nor sex, but simply, tragically his place in the pecking order of all other males. This primate behavior will determine everything else in the male’s life, when he eats, whom he has sex with. Where he fits into that scheme of things is his god. And in your prisoners, Jesus becomes that dominate male that provides them with guidance. That is why it works.”

“So you are above this mode you say?” You consider this too small for your way of thinking?”

Fletcher doesn’t have to think about his answer. “Yes. The first step for the Overman is to move beyond this mode of thinking, and with it the social rejection that inevitably will follow. No true warrior could ever be concerned with such things as the opinion of another male, or to accept dominance by a superior male. It must be the Overman’s goal to become invincible in body and spirit. To reach beyond the sub atomic matter of things and master life at all levels. And defeat does not have a place with the Overman. They are only set backs in the ultimate battle where the forces of will intend to hold captive the soaring spirit.

“If a man can be bent to the will of inferior male flesh, they will surely bend to the will of the unseen. Such beings are bound to a purgatory existence and any life attached to these men will follow his torturous path. Wives will lust after rock stars, and children will seek refuge with other children in a game of the blind leading the blind. And those males seeking the acceptance of other males will put their balls upon the green grass of golf courses and pretend they are masters of something because they were invited into the circle of a dominate male. And as they putt that birdie on the back nine, their wives weep for a warrior.

An Overman can putt that birdie on the back nine, but his wife will not weep because she has a warrior. It’s more likely that should an Overman choose to stroll those green grasses of paradise, that he’d be by himself because no male is superior to him and the Overman is not looking for patsies to lick his heels and eat his table scraps. So often, the Overman will be alone, and he’s happy to be.”

“You speak with great command of knowledge, but your actions do not match your apparent passions. At the core of your ideology, and the reason you have made enemies of the world, is that you are promoting anarchy.” Leopold’s mind was spinning at the energy Fletcher projected, and the rate and quantity of information he let loose.

“I am said to promote anarchy and chaos. That freedom and its ideas must be maintained with government. Yet, I trust not anything that functions from greed, and has a heart so weak that it can be bought with token materialism. Much of our politics is laced with greed. That the ideas founding government will buckle under the weight of lazy greed. It’s as infectious as sex, and desires to be consumed in vast quantities. Behind the lazy ones is the hope that comfort will spring forth and save the soul from turmoil. With such a mind, the girth of the waist line expands and the body decays slowly to rot suitable only to parasitic insects. That is the only path for such minds and it’s this path that governments seek to lead civilization.” Fletcher looks at the General, and smiles. He doesn’t have to elaborate.

“Waging war against another dimension is in reality no different than war with another nation. The goals are the same. You must know how to deprive them of resources they need to conduct war against you. Once you control their supply routes, and divide up their ranks, you can begin to conquer them for your purpose. In the case of ulta-terrestrials, they crave from man the conduct of evil, that which causes emotional distress to other humans; murder, rape, corruption of all variety, crimes of inauthenticity. They feed off the energy of distress given off in disturbed states of mind. The first thing a warrior can do to rob them of this energy which forces their hand and into your strategy. This is when you can make them employees to your will and gain unseen allies. Reluctant allies none-the-less, and not allies that can be trusted for the moment you let down your guard they will attack. But they can be used to your purpose .

“Most of the damage these beings can do, not being natives of this dimension, are to propel us into committing problems for ourselves. The term of possession is often confused and misplaced as the workings of these conspirators. By manipulating our belief system into a narrow field of possibilities, they hide camouflaged against chaos which they are the architects.”
“Your pessimism is rotting your soul. That is clearly evident to me.” Leopold studies Fletcher to see if he will lash out at him. “Where are these plots? What you proclaim is no different from the muttering of religious fervor common to extremists of every order.”

“If you want to see the hidden workings of this maniacal plot attend the cultural activities of the drunken puppet, as they seek relief from life’s great pressures by the device of alcohol. Many women of proper composure lose control undeniably in such states and surrender their actions to forces they dare not acknowledge. For it is a proven fact that these dimension assailants crave our mating rituals and enjoy the raw energy derived from its indulgence. In biblical fragments it was said that the Gods of men had lain with his women. And so it is, these supposed gods still enjoy with tongues out of their mouths the turmoil and lust of mankind’s women and their ability to govern passions and play cupid. It is not an accident that pagan rituals have involved voluntary public sex practices among the elite class in order to given tokens of benefit for growing estates and earthly power. And so it goes as the daughters, and wives of mankind shake sweaty hips to the hypnotic effects of music, drunken males will betray their comrades with lust filled hearts, and put in jeopardy the women dependent on them as pillars of strength. Divided families are weak, and full of turmoil, and residing in the shadows of our time-space continuum are the malicious laughs of our true enemies. For every broken home, is a door opened by turmoil and depleted souls ready to be filled by the propaganda of the unseen. And contained within that propaganda are strings to pull and tug our species about in plots not of our mind.

“And the drunk later will laugh and brag about his state and the crimes committed there feeling that somehow there was reward in surrender, because the strings of propaganda move his mouth, and make his arms flail about independent of a conquered mind. And the women wake up and wonder where their cloths had gone and find themselves penetrated in a less than sacred manner, burying their disgrace with ideas of freedom and equality. Such is the plot of our foes.
“I can speak of this because I’ve looked it in the eye and I know its heart. When the Overman confronts an ultra-terrestrial, it is them that cower in fear. Age old tricks and nonsense no longer apply. And when the Mothman confronted me upon a lonely night where the blame might otherwise be applied to poltergeists and other ghostly apparitions, it projected an ultrasonic wave of fear intended for my mind, and what it found there was laughter at it’s silly mechanisms, and fear found a home in the fabled creature that has been our inspiration of gargoyles and angels for all known time. As I looked at its red penetrating eyes and knew that modern folklore had called it a mothman, I could see that it was in fact the legendary Giffin which has played such a roll and caused many to organize under its wings only to lead those into a slow corruption of their independent souls with a delusional reality of despair and dependence.”

Leopold was enwrapped in the curious thoughts of this very strange man, Fletcher Finnegan. Nothing the man said was conventional, yet he had an air of practicality about him. “You talk of these invisible creatures that manipulate us, but provide only theories. Their existence can hardly justify your aggressive actions.”

Fletcher smiled at Leopold’s feeble knowledge of history and began to pace faster as he spoke. “One thing you will not see pieced together regarding the success of enterprise and rise of business’s that perpetuate a veil for these mechanisms, is the true origin of this strategy.”

“Then enlighten me with some facts!” Leopold was feeling bold now, on sure ground. Facts could always be counted upon to revel neurotic fantasies of a convoluted mind. “Give me this history!”

“If you think you can fathom it, I will.” Fletcher stopped pacing now and had that piercing gaze. “But you will never view things the same way. Can you handle that?”

Leopold was guessing that much of what Fletcher was saying was an exaggeration and didn’t carry the weight of scientific proof with it so he haphazardly nodded his head.

Fletcher nodded in recognition. “First of all, Columbus did not discover America.”

“Hardly a brilliant opening to a grand theory, it is well known now that it was the Vikings that visited North America.”

“Oh, we do have a long way to go. We are far beyond that elementary idea now, let me assure you of that. Science has stumbled upon much greater mysteries since these shallow concepts of whether or not Vikings, or Columbus arrived in North America first. We are far beyond thoughts of Asians crossing a land bridge across the Bering Straight 20,000 years ago when the Earths oceans were 20 meters below sea level. Because if you consider the evidence, there were advanced civilizations that used stone to construct with all flourishing throughout the world at the same times. Consider Baalbek which predated Romans by thousands of years in their colossal building abilities, the city of Nan Madol on a tiny island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean called Pohnpei that built huge stone structures with stones weighing as much as 50 tons. One of the greatest mysteries there is not how they built such large structures on an isolated island with no technology but that a basalt road enters the Pacific ocean and emerges thousands of miles to the south at another tiny island called Rarotanga. Then if you move to the continent of South America, in Boliva you’ll find Tiahuanaco a city as complex as Jericho, or Jerusalem that co-existed with those urban centers.”

Leopold was beside himself. “I have never heard of these places. Jericho and Jerusalem certainly, but not those other places, how can you propose a link with those biblical anchors?”

‘If you consider that stone erodes quite a lot in 10,000 years, think how much erodes in 100,000. It is entirely possible that in 400,000 years from now everything in New York City could have eroded away completely unless some of the steel within those structures would happen to become fossilized. All those cities share a common fascination with stone and an incredible level of engineering, and based on the rate of decay in just several thousand years, the sources of that technology may have long since vanished and is only reflected in these seemingly remote places.

Leopold was out of his comfort zone and he wanted to lash out at Fletcher for unknown reasons. “Evidence of this would exist in the fossil record.”

“It is a rare set of circumstances that produce a fossil. You have to die in some mud and hope that something doesn’t eat you. The calcium in the bones has to be replaced by minerals over thousands of years, and in that time lots of fortunate occurrences must occur in order for a fossil to be created.”

“There would still be evidence of what you are saying”

“Ironically, you’re correct, and there is. You only have to do a bit of looking to find that the bones of man have been found near the bones of dinosaurs, and that human footprints walk in the same places as dinosaurs. It has been found that complicated jewelry was embedded in lumps of coal which take millions of years to form. So in short, there are a lot of unanswered questions regarding our human past.”

“This is preposterous, these assumptions you are making.” Leopold Smith had heard a lot of cases of dementia, and treated cases of manic-depression and this was text book stuff. Fletcher Finnegan certainly contained most all elements of the manic definition where victims often feel they are on a special mission, who they consider grandiose but in reality is delusional. A person in this manic state can experience a break from reality. Most of the time these emotions will lead to severe anxiety and can become very irritable, but many cases involve grandiose moments of euphoria. “Are you on medication for your condition, Mr. Finnegan?”

Fletcher paused a moment and quizzically gazed at the analysts. “You truly don’t understand what this means.”
Leopold was not attempting to hold back his laughter. “You have a grandiose sense of purpose that is not unlike many of the religious fanatics that have created cults and anarchy which is exactly what you are accused of.”
“Which is exactly what I was leading to by coincidence,” Fletcher said as he resumed his pacing. “You asked for history and I am preparing to give you just that.”

Leopold nodded agreement in a condescending way that Fletcher did not find offensive. The two men were far apart anchored in their very different beliefs.

Fletcher looked at the General who was still silent, arms crossed to protect his own shallow beliefs but avoiding eye contact with Fletcher. “I have named for you several cities not spoken of in history books, yet go deep into our human history. And even with all the mystery contained there, they fail to even compare to what we find right in the middle of North America.”
“How does this tie into your personal rebellion for which you are convicted?”

“Younger than those other described places, but equally ignored in the context of history was Cahokia, located just outside of present day St. Louis. What many don’t acknowledge is this part of the world had a major impact on the course of modern civilization. This city to the very day boasts a pyramid that is the third largest pyramid by volume in the world and its discovery was by chance. An entire neighborhood was built upon its ruins before it was discovered that those large hills in the backyards of those residences were not just hills, but huge mounds built by a forgotten civilization. St. Louis was built before Archeology became a science so nobody knew what to make of the strange relics found while they built the homes. But as Anthropology and Archeology matured in the early years of the twentieth century much was discovered about this huge city that reflects the complexity of a Mesopotamian culture, and not the typical hunting and gathering tribes of Native Americans.

“Cahokia was called the City of the Sun. And its leader was symbolized with a bird man whom was worshipped with human sacrifice. Many of Cahokia’s rituals took place in the nearby caves that lay under present day St. Louis, and this culture seems to be an advance progression of several, much older metropolitan centers that covered southern Illinois and eastern Missouri.

“Five hundred years after the demise of Cahokia and hearing the legends of the area from the current residence who were Native Americans, American settlers named many of the monuments found in the area by names of Giant City and Little Egypt but built their homes and cities on the ruins of these ancient North American cities. But it didn’t stop the Mormons from coming to the area to start their religion.

“In New York, Joseph Smith was visited by an angel in much the way that angels visited biblical prophets throughout the bible. In fact, he believed that two of the figures that came to him in a vision were none the other than God the father, and Jesus his son, and they told him that all the religions of the world was wrong, and they gave him instructions to start a new church that would become the foundations of the Mormon religion. He founded his religion based on a long buried book inscribed on metal leaves and this book told of God’s dealings with Ancient Israelite inhabitants which he claimed were the real lost tribe of Israel here in North America. Of course Smith was labeled a threat to the other established religions and this propelled him and his followers to flee westward where they settled in the area of Missouri and Illinois where ancient relics of lost civilizations were everywhere and allowed Smith to sell his religion to curious settlers. Of course the established religions found Smith a threat to their order and was finally killed by the overwhelming forces that aligned against him and his church around the time that Smith announced his candidacy for President of the United States. Once Smith was killed, the Mormons fled further west and any trace of ancient ties to the lost tribes of Israel in America were ignored by the other established orders.

“Meanwhile, Adam Lemp immigrated from Germany, spent some time in nearby Cincinnati, and moved on to St Louis where he found that he could begin his brewery empire by using those caves of Cahokia as an ideal location for the lager process. After Adam’s death, his son William inherited the estate and began an empire that would change the face of America forever.
The Lemp Mansion was built on a location that allowed him to use the caves to get to his brewery nearby. The Lemp family loved the caves and actually built a theater and a pool under their home where private actors would perform vaudeville acts for the family. However, the old curse of Cahokia seems to have infected the mind of the Lemps and one by one throughout the years, suicides occurred at the strange mansion that still is a hot spot of paranormal activity. The Lemp’s are said to still haunt the area and the brewery empire they started began a culture of alcohol consumption in this country by being the first to supply beer coast to coast. The caves under St Louis have been sealed as best they could when the construction of Interstate 55 was built. These caves are now referred to as the Lost Caves of St Louis, and are all but forgotten to the inhabitants of the city above.

“Modern day Cahokia is just 8 miles to the west of downtown St. Louis. Everyday, thousands of people drive by the giant mounds of Cahokia and have no mind of the incredible civilization that existed there prior to the European immigration that formed the United States. The reason, Cahokia is part of East St. Louis and the incredible crime rate there. Although it is never discussed, East St. Louis is part of the curse of Cahokia and the same curse that fills the Lost Caves of St. Louis. There is far more going on there than meets the eye.”

Leopold could do nothing but shake his head. “We are in Ohio, Mr. Finnegan. Your history of these areas is fascinating but irrelevant.”

“Not irrelevant, but connected. Connected to the mounds of Cahokia are the mysterious Serpent Mound and other mounds of Southern Ohio, which dominate our area. Dates take the construction of the mound to around 500 BC and it is quite obvious that the mound is designed to be seen from the air much like the images of the Nazca of Peru. The odd thing about the construction of this mound is that it is built on the edge of a giant impact crater dating back up to 320 million years. This crater is over 5 miles across and is largely eroded now and virtually undetectable except to the scientific mind.”
Leopold could do nothing but frown. “What does this have to do with St Louis?”

Fletcher was smiling now. “All over this southern Ohio area, from the Native Americans, thunder birds are part of their tribal lore. In fact, the Iroquois nation which consisted of 5 primary tribes that went from New York all the way down to the Ohio River valley believed hunting in the West Virginia and Kentucky areas were sacred and settling in those areas were forbidden by the All Father. The five tribes of the Iroquois were told to unite by a being that came down from the sky.

“Anyway, for years a bird man, or thunderbird spirit has dominated many of the areas along the Ohio river for the entire length of it in Native American lore. It was nothing short of a Bird Man King that controlled the City of the Sun, Cahokia to the west, and in this region, that same character has been called Mothman since the frequent sighting during the bridge collapse at Point Pleasant.”

“This does not answer my question.”

“Just north of Point Pleasant is the mysterious Moonville. A mining town that thrived at the turn of the 20th century but had a violent past and eventually has been erased from the face of the Earth. At its peak, Moonville only had a hundred people in this back woods town, but it was a major stop off along a railroad that connected Washington DC to St Louis. At this town, treachery and debauchery ruled up until its demise and to this day is heavily haunted. Yet nothing but a tunnel that ran through a large hill remains of the town. This tunnel is the portal used by Mothmen that enter and exit our dimensional space and have had their hand in mankind’s affairs for millions of years.”

Leopold is more than confused. “You’ve talked about strange cities, Mormons, ghosts, and breweries but nothing to justify your crimes and obvious psychosis. It is obvious you fear society, and hide that fear in an extensive knowledge of history, that while impressive, does not justify your station.”

“The influence of a race of beings that came to inhabitants from above permeates the mythology of Native Americans and the artifacts left behind show advanced knowledge of events, such as the knowledge of the impact crater. Mothmen are seen by many even today. The only reason they aren’t seen by everyone is that our species is preoccupied with their busy lives and a rapidly growing technology.

“I can say for myself that I fear no human being or living entity on this planet or elsewhere. To fear the mediocre tendencies of the feeble ones is a crime against yourself. They will seek to use fear to place you about in invisible shackles of bondage. The villainy upon you by these beings is a crime. It is an assault against the nature of life which desires freedom and the impulse to live.

“This notion that one should not strive to be superior is preposterous. What gain is there in pretending to be a fool so those in power don’t feel the threat? I tell you this mythology was invented to suppress the strong, and prevent challenges to phantom thrones that make up the mind of a tyrant’s thoughts. Pretending to be a fop with thoughts about the weather, foreign and domestic policy, and sports so to stay under the radar, to what avail?

“I have been told many times to maintain such a low profile. I’ve been told to not be so good. I have seen men applaud other men for showing weakness with women. I have seen much backslapping to the drunk that collapses unconscious on a Friday night, as opposed to the hard worker that stays behind a book all night to gain an advantage over their opponents. I have heard many preachers of peace proclaim honor in such a mundane embrace of values.

“Think how preposterous it sounds to hear tales of a night with friends where everyone became “trashed” and so much so that they cannot remember the evening. Compare this to the heroic figure that donates their evening to helping people, or improving themselves. I say that it is the times formation around control that endorses idiotic behavior and encourages us all to pursue that course. The trick to all is that there is profit in failure, that you will succeed if you stay under the radar and not become a threat to the current administrations by being the well behaved lamb. Look at the established religions, where the behavior of Jesus is shown to be the way to everlasting glory. Jesus is even referred to as a lamb. Does no one question these motives? With the fine mind provided to humans, why are humans so susceptible to bondage? Does it not seem strange that so called Christians, Hindus, Muslims, even Buddists seem so preoccupied with enduring the pain of this current life in order to reach some evasive light at the end of the tunnel, that we should joyfully endure our masters in this life for trade of everlasting glory.

“You ask me what it means to be fearless. For there is no deceit when you stand before the Mothmen, for they can peer into your heart. To be fearless is to realize that the only privacy in the world is that for which you give yourself. It is in accepting that eyes are always upon you, even in seclusion. But freedom from this comes from being superior to your opponents, superior to those that can peer into your soul for they dare not, because what they see there is something they cannot master, and fear then becomes their constant companion, a position they are not accustomed to. There is no lying about this kind of fearlessness. You can not fake this with haughty talk and bold steps. You have to be it, and before you can, you must face every demon that resides within you and eliminate every vice that acts as strings to those diabolical puppeteers.
“Alas, no sooner after much tribulation is a mind under assault by sirens and the timing is no less obvious to the eye trained to the mechanisms of the machine and its workings. The poor woman knows not why she feels such but wants to believe in the magic of love and is blinded by the stage props.

“And what are these architects of desire, these cupids of destiny. That nest of comfort all women in their souls seek where life meaning sings acceptance of purpose. The game is treacherously shallow. Is it an accident that our images of cupid contain wings on Eros, son of Aphrodite? In what sector of the human experience do wings get placed on characters of mythology?

“This appeasement of spirits is not an unusual idea. Vikings were among the first to use decorative ship figureheads. They believed that these heads contained the spirit of the ship and removed them when sailing for home so not to offend or frighten the spirits that guarded their homes.

“This is why it is celebrated to exist in a drunken state. Males hungry for reassurance will relish in the ecstasy of seeing a potential rival at their own level, or better yet, below. The same preoccupation rings with women. Adulterous conduct is a welcome entry into the fraternity of testosterone. There you will find men that have neglected their wives into cellulite temples, yearning for sexual conquest in the arms of the easily manipulated. Profess the same philosophy and watch the gates of power swing open wide. To offer your vices is protection that you will not challenge their crown, for every male assesses his competition.”


Rich Hoffman