The heart of the 9/11 psyOp is the 2977 victims, or as Hoi illustrates, vicsims: get past that illusion, and you are free from the fear that the hoax has locked on its target – you.
When dealing with an enormous number of interconnected hoaxes, each maintained to benefit a core simulation, it is sometimes difficult for people to let go of the few they fell for, no matter how artificial their motherhoax has proven to be. The hoaxsters running the main burling game count on the successful management of small, powerfully localized scams to form a networked defense perimeter of their Big Lie. What our pressure groups and researchers’ have exposed, through the dedicated work of a handful of individuals with the patience to examine it, is the heart of the Big Lie of 9/11. (When we did this, we also exposed an enormous cobweb of interconnected Big Lies, forming the defense perimeter of the Banking System, and other hoaxes but that will have to be addressed at a later time.)
Making it this far has not been easy, intellectually or socially. The hoaxes have turned our families, friends and formerly closest allies into hypnotized zombies – repeating propaganda at us that has been spouted to them by their trusted entertainment systems. This tends to make one’s personal battle for truth a battle against every localized hoax that touches a loved one, as the pranks endlessly flow from the speakers of our noxious brainwashing devices. Our collective struggle to save the ones we care about from vicious misinformation is a deliberate temptation to turn our strategy of discovery into one of exhaustion. Despite this, we remain inexhaustible. We do all we can and press on, and now our remuneration has arrived. The heart of the 9/11 beast is surrounded. We must strike it dead.
I arrived late, after the suppositions by many others that nobody was killed at Shanksville, nobody was on any fictional planes and finally, nobody was – in fact – killed at the Pentagon or the World Trade Center. My appearance is suspect to some because of the eagerness that I bring to a pensive and brooding movement, which is being seduced by the monster’s antibodies: doubters and sympathizers of the banking-war-entertainment complex and religious zealots calling themselves the laughable name “skeptic”. My proposal in the Vicsim Report, was to cease wondering how to strike, and simply begin clobbering it. In my frenzy, I certainly missed the mark a number of times, and – without distracting people too much from our present task – I’d like to point out some things I feel I did right and wrong in assailing such a huge foe.