Mountain over Thunder Psychoenergetics Daoyin Qigong Torsional Field Activation and Generation by Kevin Wikse

 

In a world teetering on the edge of an inevitable and catastrophic magnetic pole shift, where ancient knowledge and modern science collide, emerges a guide unlike any other. Mountain over Thunder Psychoenergetics Daoyin Qigong: Vimana Merkaba Chariot Mysteries Volume One is a profound journey into the heart of esoteric wisdom and advanced spiritual practices, crafted with meticulous care and an unflinching eye for the truth.

Kevin Wikse, a master of psychoenergetics and an adept of the occult, takes you through the foundational exercises that will prepare you for the coming storm. With a voice as stark and resonant as the desert wind, Wikse lays bare the secrets of the Chong Mai, the central channel that is the lifeline of your physical and spiritual being. He delves into the synchronization of brain hemispheres, the creation of powerful torsion fields, and the development of your Vimana/Merkaba/Chariot—your divine vehicle for navigating the unseen realms. This book is not merely a manual; it is a lifeline. As the world hurtles towards a global cataclysm, the knowledge within these pages will arm you with the tools to not only survive but thrive. The dual inner and outer rotations, the integration of the right and left brain, and the harnessing of scalar waves will transform you into a beacon of strength and clarity amidst the chaos. Wikse's writing, steeped in the stark beauty and unrelenting realism, draws you into a landscape where the stakes are as high as the sky. The prose is both haunting and enlightening, guiding you through the esoteric with the precision of a surgeon and the soul of a poet. Mountain over Thunder Psychoenergetics Daoyin Qigong: Vimana Merkaba Chariot Mysteries Volume One is more than a book. It is a call to arms, a beacon in the dark, and a roadmap to mastery in an uncertain world. The journey is perilous, the rewards beyond measure. Step into the unknown, and emerge transformed. Prepare. Survive. Thrive.

Availabe HERE

Kevin Wikse

An Excerpt from "Strange Strangers: Tales of Childhood Alien Abduction" by Kevin Wikse.

 

Surprised, I opened my eyes to find myself standing. My gaze was fixed on a vast crystal blue sky. A soft, icy breeze coiling around the hilltop conveyed the morning cold. I began shivering and asking myself how I got here when a glint of silver caught my attention. I looked over my shoulder to see a bright metal disc with a mirror polish, gigantic in proportion, hanging silently above me. Upon my realization, I was suddenly seized with a terrific force. Some invisible vice locked itself around my whole body; the air crushed from my lungs as it gripped me ever tighter against my consent. A loud metallic click resounded as I strained against what bound me and reverberated inside my brain. The disk and I began to interface. A deluge of images flooded my mental processes. I was a human particulate futtering between states of consciousness and dissolving in equal parts terror and astonishment. 

Amidst the churning ocean of digital chatter I was drowning in, a single directive emerged, stronger and louder than any other. It rose above the crashing waves of analog noise and onto a crystal pedestal of clarity. "I was a builder." I was born to construct and fashion walls, towers, houses, bridges, ramparts, and roads in literal and ideological mediums. To create communities and weave together networks. People would be my primary material, igniting their purpose and unifying their goals. However, I was just as capable, maybe more so, of rendering instruments of destruction, of crafting poisons for the body, mind, and soul. I COULD DECONSTRUCT what I or another built, either piece by piece or in wide murderous swaths.

Having delivered its message, the disc released me. Oxygen came rushing back into my lungs along with spacial awareness into my brain. The disc shot upward with the speed of a bullet but with none of the force. Quickly, the sky grew dark, and the stars were again shown. I stood open to the elements. I was stripped down to nearly nothing, exposed physically and emotionally. The dying campfire's dim radiance illuminated my friends, cocooned in their sleeping bags and blissfully unaware of what had transpired. Dangerously chilled, I trudged back to them with frozen footfalls along a trail of my clothes. 

A terrible wave of nausea welled inside me, and I began to dry heave. Over and over till I was dripping with sweat and finally vomited. Exhausted and mentally zeroed out, I collapsed on the hard ground and enjoyed the pre-dawn frigidity. The resulting walking pneumonia clung to me for almost three months, until the New Year of 1994, my sophomore year of High School. 

The act of intentional and repeated separation from the group wasn't lost on me. Memories of being called out of class or pulled out of school assemblies to visit persons who disclosed neither their purpose nor identity bubbled up to the forefront of my mind. Institutionalized ostracization and alienation via institutional intrusion by The State of California's Educational Board's ties to black projects and genuine alien forces? For the vast majority, such a supposition need never cross their minds. Lucky them. 

Taken.

Abducted. 

Removed.

The feeling of division between self and other, fading since my family relocated from California to Idaho, was starkly reaffirmed. I had again been set apart. I was anointed not by sacred or holy oil as in my adult life's numerous religious and spiritual initiations but by otherworldly light and sound. I knew of the distance in close proximity and the feeling of separation, even in a crowd. Understanding these paradoxes would always and inevitably cause cracks in the foundation of all my relationships. However, through these fissures, I could access the liminal spaces between the worlds and experience interdimensionality. 

If there was a solace to be taken, I would take it as this: I could at least be an architect of creation and traveler of realities. In exchange for eliminating my sense of societal normalcy or being relegated to the base act of mindless consuming, in contrast to so many others, I was granted that. I was long beyond the false sense of permanence. I suppose I couldn't miss the feeling of authentic security if I'd never known it. Still, I could fantasize about it and be jealous of others who had it. 

Maybe I was like the cat who would bolt for the open door and the wild and uncertain, no matter how warm and cozy it was inside. Freedom to me had that irresistible siren's call. I suspected the dark figure that ceaselessly followed me resulted from wandering down shadowed corridors during my frequent early childhood astral and real-time projections. How frighteningly accurate that hypothesis was would soon be realized. 

-Kevin Wikse, Strange Strangers: Tales of Childhood of Alien Abduction.

A Dead Dog's Tale 

2030 UFO Agenda Childhood's End by Kevin Wikse.

 

Originally posted HERE on 01/03/2019 on Might and Magick 

The following admission makes me nervous, but I am taking a chance. If I am wrong, the only consequence is I lived my next 11 years the way I would anyway and encouraged others to do the same. I can accept that. Not long ago, I was contacted by a group, maybe "think-tank" is a better term, of individuals with ties to upper-level government and black projects. A few of these individuals have been involved since the 1950s; however, they are old and will pass on soon.

They confirm President Dwight Eisenhower was coerced by the Pentagon into a contract with Extra-Terrestrials, Zeta-Reticuli Greys. In exchange for giving us advanced technology, our Government would allow them to abduct a set number of American citizens yearly. Further stipulations stated the Greys must tell our Government exactly who they abducted, when, and for how long. Abductees were not to be physically harmed too severely, returned to where they had been abducted, and their memories were to be wiped. Neither would the Greys enter into contracts or agreements with other countries.

Almost immediately, the Zeta-Reticuli Greys broke the contract. The number of American citizens abducted far exceeded the agreed limit, many abductees were not being returned at all, and no list of names, times, or places was being given. While advanced, the level of provided technology was sub-par compared to what was promised, and the Greys were making agreements with other nations.

Members of the think-tank sat participated in government-sponsored channeling sessions. Recruited mediums and mystics attempted (and succeeded) in contacting "aliens," some Extra-Terrestrial. Still, the majority of communication was with I.D.E. or Inter-Dimensional Entities. Modern researchers Nick Redfern, Clive Lewis, and Richard C. Hoagland (to name the high-profile offenders) erroneously overemphasize Aleister Crowley and Jack Parsons's influence in formulating these channeling circles. In truth, Aleister Crowley and Jack Parsons are nobodies concerning actual occult work. They are awed only by the ignorant.

The work of Maria Orsic, aka Maria Orschitsch, the head medium of the Vril society, helped the Nazi party construct advanced flying machines (foo-fighters included). She directed the Nazis to finish establishing bases in Antarctica. She put the Nazis in contact with N.H.E. (Non-Human Entities), who helped them build the war-winning superweapon Die Glocken or The Bell (if you don't know about the Nazi Fifth Column victory strategy, you need to unfuck yourself). Maria was the driving force behind our Government's interest in the occult. Aleister Crowley and Jack Parsons are chumps and chomos. On a side note, Crowley and Parsons are powerful influences behind the spread of pedophilia and Luciferianism within elite social circles, so I guess there is that...credit where credit is due.

I've already made posts about the entity calling itself Sheeva or Shiva, D-Wave computing, and CERN. Eventually, I will post about the current Mandela Effect and its direct relation to CERN.

I've been asked to introduce the agenda for 2030 and why the Government will NEVER give disclosure. Had not some predictions I was provided by the think-tank not come to fruition and done so with startling accuracy, I would not be doing this. But they have proven themselves and shown me where their connections lead.

2030 is the year humanity's collective childhood ends forever. There will be no more ages. No more blasting ourselves back to the stone age, only to crawl out of the rubble and try again. 2030 marks the beginning of humanity's era among the stars as part of an intergalactic reality from which there will be no return. We will either solidify what it is to be human or get lost, swept away, in the incoming influence of hundreds and soon hundreds of thousands of Extra-Terrestrial races and Interdimensional entities. 2030 is when all agreements, all stays of contact, and all hands-off directives cease. 

2030 has NOTHING to do with aiding humanity's spiritual progression, nothing to do with increasing our dimensionality from 3-D to 4-D, or any other asinine concept born of the laughable "new age." This has everything to do with natural progression, from individual awareness to tribal awareness to national awareness, global awareness, and now beyond planetary into interplanetary recognition.

These incoming races don't generally give a fuck about our planet (climate change...cough-cough..global warming ...is a scam to fool morons into surrendering control to elite-level megalomaniacs who will enslave them through environment tyranny, a.k.a "King's wood"). The childish dream that humanity is alone in the universe is ending quickly. Sadly I predict it will be an exceedingly rude awakening when that alarm clock finally sounds. If, as a result, humanity experiences a major spiritual awakening, then awesome. I am not advocating we throw the baby out with the bathwater, but let us be clear if that happens, it will be as a result, not the purpose of 2030. Please make no mistake, I am not talking about the sheer lunacy which fueled 2012.

The Greys will make their play first. They are already here and have ordered their likeness to drip-feed into social consciousness for 70 years. In the ensuing chaos and confusion, they will present themselves as protectors. Predictably, most humanity, already somewhat familiar with the Grey, will be willing to herd themselves into high-tech, fattening pens and happily await auction and/or slaughter. Greys eat people and trade them to others as slaves or culinary delights. The goals of the Zeta-Retculi Greys are hybridization with humans and establishing a new home on this planet. The current socially engineered trend towards "trans," be it transsexual or transhumanism, is a conditioning step towards steering human expectations in looking and acting more like Zeta-Reticuli Greys (who are asexual and now a far distant cry from what their species initially looked like).

In 2030 the major world powers of Earth are who these E.T. races will interact with most. It is no coincidence Trump ordered the creation of a 6th Military Branch, Space Force, and Congress very quietly passed a 1.2 Billion quantum computing bill, the "National Quantum Initiative Act" by a vote of 348-11, a bipartisan act of that magnitude and in this political climate!? They know what is coming, and now so do you. China is a big player in this (they are building their own Space Force and the "Heavenly Palace," a space station of fantastic size and capability). It could come down to a divided planet, American Nationalism vs. Chinese National Socialism (Communism). Russia is a dark horse presently in terms of what it will do. I suspect they will seek to be a stand-alone power. The N.W.O./Illuminati/Zionists have abandoned the Anglo-Saxon/British model for global domination and thrown their lot in with China.

What can we do to retain our humanity, stake a claim on our planet and force E.T. races to agree with us, regardless of prevailing ideologies? First and foremost is creating solid and close-knit communities specializing in various trades and skills to barter. These communities must cultivate powerful earth-based spiritualities and maintain deep roots in human culture but adopt new methodologies which advance humanity. In this way, E.T. races will more readily see us as legitimate earthlings, not unhinged humans needing reclamation or repurposing. There is more, but for right now, this is paramount.

In the next 11 years, I seek to build such a community. Developing as well as sharing the appropriate skill set. These longstanding goals are a few of the many reasons I was contacted by the think-tank in the first place.

Why is it we will never get disclosure on U.F.O.s or 2030? Because we got "confirmation," and confirmation is NOT disclosure. Through leaks and FOIA, our Government has all but screamed, "Yes, you idiots, U.F.O.s are real!" that is all we will ever get. 

2030 is only 11 years away. 

The open secret can easily be kept until then. When 2030 does come, it will be like Donald Rumsfield admitting $2.2 Trillion was missing (unaccounted for) from the Pentagon on 9/10/2001. The next day's events will show that the $2.2 Trillion mystery, like hope (or need) for disclosure, is a bygone idea.

Disclosure means explaining how our Government kept the existence of Extra-Terrestrials and U.F.O.s hidden and how they paid for a secret space program. There is a reason crashed C.I.A. planes are found to have tons (literal tons) of cocaine and massive collections of child porn (mostly child snuff films) on board. These sub-human monsters engage in trafficking the foulest vices, and narcotics are the least of them. The modern human slave trade, sex slavery, snuff films, and the global pedophile network (child kidnap, rape, torture, and murder), not to mention the theft known as taxation, all fund these trillion-dollar black projects. That is why disclosure will NEVER happen. Make sense now?

Quantum computing will change everything. Imagine if you knew 20 years ago what the internet would be. What would you do differently? Mass-scale quantum internet is 2-3 years out. Do you catch my drift? The internet gave humanity a chance at total freedom. We did a lot of good with it but needed to fully understand its implications. But look, a second wave is coming. Different, yes, but in many ways, it is the same. Others quietly get ready to make tremendous noise when the time is right. Why aren't you?

The most important date in human history will happen in 2030. We have 11 years. I have been given wisdom by someone compelling, who is really impressive, and whose business skills you would be very impressed by, " take a year and learn everything you can and then for the next ten years be an ant even if everyone else is a grasshopper."

You know the story of the Ant and the Grasshopper, don't you?

-Kevin Wikse

Directed Energy, first of the eight Mothership Palms of Vimana Vajra Baguazhang by Kevin Wikse.

  

The "Directed Energy" turn-around is the "Single Palm" change of my Vimana Vajra Baguazhang's "Eight Mothership" palms foundational set. Exceptionally "yang" in nature, meaning aggressive and straight to the point, the Directed Energy turn-around features a triple palm strike employing the same hand, utilizing the three shapes most responsible for all the death, damage, and destruction by palm strikes in human history.

In addition to serving as a platform for launching the mind, body, and spirit into a weaponization process, Directed Energy turn-around teaches the practitioner how to direct their energy to a singular focus point, maintain it even while altering its trajectory, and toggle between right and left sides of the body. This training keeps the practitioner's mind and body active even when they appear static.

The applications are great, and many not just for a martial artist but for anyone developing any practice where directing energy and intent into and out the hand is essential—Paramount for all energy workers (Reiki), body workers, massage therapists, healing touch, etc. 

Overtly offensive, Directed Energy turn-around does impart less obvious defensive capabilities. Like the jab and the straight of Western Boxing, its linear approach will often beat the opponent to the punch, especially if there is any hint of circularity in the opponent's attack (and there nearly always is). Also, Direct Energy is well suited for limb destruction, attacking the attack, and emphasizing that the best defense is often a great offense. 

Psychologically the Directed Energy turn-around integrates bold action and calculated fearlessness into the practitioner. Act like prey and get treated like prey (yes, there are purposeful modalities of "cat and mouse" and times when you can entrap others by assuming a strategic "victim stance," but these are specialized maneuvers and not typically part of one's day-to-day). Directed Energy turn-around implants a hunter's instincts. Instincts that steadily cross over from Bagauzhang practice into one's everyday outlook and attitude. 

Lastly, from a Daoist perspective, regular practice of the Directed Energy turn-around energizes the whole of a person's being with purified yang energy, removes stagnation, increases circulation, stimulates mental and psychic energy, strengthens concentration, and sharpens focus while reducing cowardliness, procrastination, and indecisiveness. 

-Kevin Wikse

Vimana Vajra Baguazhang

The Second Step to Building your Vimana by Kevin Wikse.

 

Astralnaut, before you proceed to this protocol, you must have spent at least 21 days developing and integrating with your astral Vimana, as detailed in this post. Once you have completed that essential task, you are instructed to begin this next step in your training. 

Vimana Shastra Tantra Sookshm Ka can mean "Aeronautical knowledge of the Astral Realm." To expertly explore the astral, you will need a Vimana or vehicle. Having out-of-body experiences, lucid dreaming, and eliciting astral projection will happen due to this specific training modality. 

More than that is "real-time" astral projection, the process of consciously producing out-of-body while still in a waking state to explore (most likely) the lower astral (it is the nearest vibration to the physical realm) and learn about and/or make last-minute edits to what is just about to manifest into reality. In these non-physical realities on the very periphery of the material plane, the astralnaut is most result-producing. However, it must be understood that the astralnaut will eventually face hostile non-physical and semi-non-physical entities in these locations. Encounters with these beings carry REAL consequences with lasting effects. 

Do not fret, astralnaut. As your squadron leader, I will ensure you receive top-notch training in astral and, eventually, physical combat. Your formidability shall not be in question. 

More on this to follow. 

Repeat the steps detailed in the previously mentioned blog post. 

With your astral Vimana's elemental building blocks purified and empowered, direct your Vimana to hover 5 to 10 feet above your head. Now a brilliant beam of soft white light descends down upon you, enveloping you and conferring a sense of courage and confidence. 

Now begin one of our Tantras secret mantras. This mantra works only for our Tantra lineage. It will only be effective for people who have started the initiatory mantra to Lord Ganesh. There is also a certain subsection of individuals I have personally named in the presence of Lord Shiva, Lord Ganesh, and Lord Hanuman, who are forever barred from entering this lineage. They will be greatly harmed by the use of these mantras. Some of these people are obvious, and others would have to have the exceptional displeasure of making their acquaintance. Either way, you would certainly know if you are one of them. 

Tread without fear, astralnaut. You are welcome with open arms! 

The mantra is "Om Vimanikaya Om."  

Ohm-Vi-Man-Ni-Ka-Ya Ohm 

This mantra creates a unique link between you are your personal Vimana and can be thought of as your "key" for its ignition. 

As you are bathed in the light projected down on you by your astral Vimana, speak the mantra "Om Vimanikaya Om" at least 36 times, but 108 is best. As you do this, feel yourself gently but continuously lifted up into your Vimana by the very top of your head, the most "yang" point of your body or Bai Hui point. Paradoxically at the same time, your should further relax your physical body. Hence, you feel a sinking feeling accompanying the lifting sensation. We called this, in high-level Daoist mysticism, "the separation of Fire and Water." When this internal alchemy occurs, the spirit and body can separate (although they are never truly separated while the soul is incarnated). When Fire and Water separate soul-travel, real-time projections, star-stepping, etc, can occur. 

Eventually (when I cannot say), your consciousness will loosen, and you will enter into your personal Vimana in a real-time out-of-body experience. When that moment happens, life as you know it will change forever. You are not to force this. Surrender to the forces of lifting and sinking without too much expectation. This is a process, an attainment worth the effort. Allowing this to happen in due time lets the correct connections be established. The second time you accomplish this feat, you will find it easier, the experience more profound, and so on. 

In the immediate future, you will begin to experience dreams about Vimanas and have a notable increase in lucid dreaming. You will experience involuntary astral projections and spontaneous out-of-body real-time projections. 

If you should find yourself on board your Vimana or in a real-time projection during this process, maintain your composure and do your best to continue with the mantra. 

There is something to be said about speaking mantras in non-ordinary reality. I was blessed to praise Lord Ganesha with "Om Gam Ganapataye Namo Namah" in his presence during a lucid dream turned astral projection. My world absolutely shifted towards great beneficially near immediately afterward. My world is still re-aligning...

After you have completed your selected number of mantras, let yourself come back into a waking state of ordinary consciousness and go do great things, astralnaut! 

Check back often for more assignments. 

-Kevin Wikse

Astral Defense Force

3/13/19 Open Letter to Linda Moulton Howe: Black Pyramids & Sphinx by Kevin Wikse.

 

UPDATE 6/10/23

I originally posted this on my mightandmagick.com website on 3/14/19 after listening to Earth Files, Linda Moulton Howe's YouTube show. The information triggered connections for me, and I was asked by a collective I am part of to write an open letter to Linda. As of this date, Linda has not directly contacted me. But that doesn't mean I have not been contacted about my open letter to her, even if it wasn't by her. Antarctica is an interesting place, and that is putting it mildly. Antarctica will serve as a new "America" in all the ways that matter, good and bad, in the decades which will follow the upcoming Pole Shift. 

"There will be those of us who will live long enough to have the privilege of waking up screaming from the Antarctican Dream."

-Kevin Wikse

The majority of the present world population, however, will likely be long dead, and sadly that may be for the best. 

It's funny how much of my Remote Viewing, "seeing," "giant engines heating up under the ice in Antarctica," and "Seeing and hearing." the buzz, rattle, and hum of Pyramids under the Ice as come to carry significant merit. What was once "psychic" speculation is now scientifically documented. I also reveal secrets about the Tarot's Key of the Chariot, information about Michael Aquino, and the Black Flame and Black Trapezoid orders. Certain powers took notice and did their own reaching out in response. I have cleaned up and revised the original 3/14/19 post and left a link for the original at the bottom of the page. 

-Kevin Wikse

On her 3/13/19 LIVE YouTube Broadcast of Earthfiles, Linda Moulton Howe dropped either a curious admission or made a profound connection when she said something about the effect of black pyramids underground and white pyramids above ground. These structures interact to produce copious amounts of energy. In the auspicious series of events that followed, again, I was asked by my contact group to once more e-mail Linda Moulton Howe in respect to her either admission or connection regarding Black and White pyramids. 

However, the night of her LIVE YouTube broadcast, I had my own epiphany regarding Linda's words. I mention both in my now open e-mail (letter) to Linda Moulton Howe I sent on 3/15/19. Please know that I know how incredibly busy Linda is. I am not expecting her to reply to this or anything e-mail I send her. I make these e-mails public because of the potentially valuable information (to somebody) they may contain.

Dear Linda Moulton Howe,

In your last LIVE YouTube Earthfiles broadcast, you asked if anyone had information regarding the Black and White pyramids to please get in touch with you. I am affiliated with a group connected to what a colleague of yours, Nick Redfern, termed the Collins Elite. This collective comprises former government remote viewers, scientists, and armed forces members with links to Boeing, Area-51, Lockheed-Martin, Wright Patterson Airfield, White Sands Missile Base, and Los Alamos.

I was recruited by this collective in part due to a blog post I made in 2017. I remote-viewed and described the Oumuamua asteroid for precisely what it is/was: an alien probe disguised as an asteroid. I was likely the first remote viewer to publically make this claim.

Unlike other occult or paranormal researchers, I began my unique education very young (I promise this has relevance to the subject). Because of my level of competency and insight with Ceremonial Magic, and the notoriety of my spiritual Godfather (within the circles that mattered), I was invited to attend and later join genuinely elite magical orders of Southern California.

When I say genuinely elite magical orders, I mean being picked up, taken for full-day spa treatments, and having brand new clothes fitted for me before being dropped off at 20-30 million dollar estates. These estates had private access to secluded groves or beaches where all occult rituals were secretly held. Paid priestesses and priestesses lived on-site to conduct ceremonies daily. I was offered an apprenticeship into an exceedingly lucrative position of the priesthood to the elite. However, I learned that rumors of unwilling human sacrifice, ritual Adrenochrome harvesting, and pedophilia among these people and at these places are unquestionably true. I turned down their proposals and took action to protect myself from them.

Among those I encountered during these days is an individual named Michael Aquino, former Lt.Colonel, handler of Anton LeVay, and founder of the Temple of Set, as well as head of the Psychological Warfare dept during Vietnam, and in many ways, the driving force behind the MK-Ultra. My spiritual Godfather instructed me to, whenever possible, be within earshot of Michael Aquino. Michael Aquino, like all psychopaths, is prone to bragging about the atrocities he committed (through carefully worded statements). I heard things both startling and informative (Michael Aquino is directly linked to the kidnapping of Johny Gosch).

Michael Aquino, who founded the order of the Knights of the Black Trapezoid (a trapezoid being the base of a pyramid minus its cap-stone so a black trapezoid would be the base for a black pyramid), an occultic para-military order made up of primarily ex-military special forces, which served to defend the "Black Flame." The Black Flame, I overheard Michael once say, burned within the Black Sphinx. Like a seed, his statement lay planted within my consciousness for many years. Still, it was not until you, Linda, made either the admission or the connection between Black pyramids underground and White pyramids above the ground that it sprouted and bore fruit.

Linda, I have spent the past 24 hours scouring the internet. What I am suggesting to you has NEVER been posted, nor do I believe, been conceived of by anyone other than a handful of high-level occultists. Even within this elite handful, the majority of them understand this secret only having a spiritual level, but probably not a physical dimension. I, however, do.

Among even the basest mid-level occultist, it is well-known the Tarot serves as far more than just a medium of fortune-telling. Tarot Cards serve as a key or cipher to unlock and decode the most abstract and complex mysteries concerning the human mind, the human condition, and human history.

Linda, consider the Chariot card. Its placement within the Tarot and the Qabbalic Tree of Life (on which the Tarot was formed) means it stands as one of the five most profound mysteries. The Chariot in Western Occultism refers to a fence, a home, or an enclosure (it is ruled by Astrological Cancer). The Chariot moves between all dimensions and realities, times and locations, but it, itself, does not move. It is fixed. Like the Herbaric occult mystery of the Merkaba technique, on which the Tarot Chariot is based (a practice to view God upon his throne), the Chariot achieves this feat by employing a great rotation against an equally powerful counter-rotation.

I believe a case can be made that the Nazi Bell or Die Glocken was a Chariot built according to ancient Vedic/Aryan Vimana manuscripts detailing the secrets now contained within the Chariot card. Linda, look at the Rider-Waite Chariot card, and you will see a chariot flanked by two large wheels. The Chariot is in a constant state of non-motion motion. The driver's face is fixed and focused. He directs and steers the Chariot but does not drive it. And what lay in front of both the wheels? Why a White Sphinx and a Black Sphinx. Of the Chariot, the two Sphinx pull in opposite directions but face the same way. The wheels turn in opposite directions, counter-rotational, but the Chariot still arrives where it needs to go.

Of the Chariot's most profound mysteries, never before spoken of or put in print, outside of a specific Magical Order, the two Sphinx are understood to be resting and purring (reminds me of Fluffy and Chocolate), meaning they emit opposite but complementary vibrations while inert. Sound moves faster than light. Ancient people knew this as it was Hermes, the Greek God of Messages and Language who was the fastest among those Gods, not Apollo, the Greek God of Light, a mystery realization that does not happen if "magic" and science are not seen as the same (It's Hermetic science AND occultism for a reason) I can find no mention of that particular mystery realization online or in a book other than my own.

Riding the sound (i.e., being pulled by the two Sphinx) enabled the Chariot to arrive at a dimension before the limitation or restriction of the light, constructing the illusion of an enclosure. Darkness ALWAYS encapsulates light. The Chariot's vast mystery, bridging the Planetary influences of Mars of Saturn, Saturn is the limitation of Time and Space BECAUSE it is darkness, the Mother of Darkness or the Sea of Black. The starry canopy above the Chariot driver illustrates this dark space defining the brilliant stars.

The interplay of White and Black, Dark and Light, etc., are the counter-rotational forces that paradoxically propel the Chariot, giving access to the Above and the Below, but remain anchored to our specific place within Time and Space. Being in one place is also being in ALL areas simultaneously (An act of God, made possible through God).

Suppose there are white pyramids and a white sphynx above ground, with mounting evidence of black pyramids below ground. In that case, I believe there is a black sphinx, probably also underground. Through remote viewing, I have seen that specific white pyramids are linked with precise black pyramids. Their counter-rotation frequencies play off each other, producing a hum that powers both. 

I believe this is the mysterious humming or engine sound Spartan 1 and 2 reported. Through remote viewing, I can barely make out a black sphinx. It is highly elusive and protected by a thick shield of obstructing energy. It is still vibrating but kept (on purpose) just out of step somehow from the White Sphinx. The two sphynx are being prevented from interacting as they once did. I believe this affects the ability of white and black pyramids to resonate with one another as powerfully as they once did.

Linda, I want to refocus your attention on the Rider-Waite Chariot card. An emblem or crest on the Chariot displays a winged solar disc and a dreidel, or Jewish spinning top, directly underneath it. Like the prayer wheels in Tibet, dreidels typically have Jewish lettering. When spun, the dreidel is said to "speak" those letters. This further strengthens my belief that the Chariot is about counter-rotation and using sound/harmonics. The Wheel of Ezekiel is said to be a wheel within a wheel or wheels, surrounded by four-faced heavenly messengers, a Bull, an Eagle, a Man, and a Lion. The Merkaba, or Mer-Kah-Bah. 

The Wheel of Ezekiel is detailed by the Tarot's Wheel of Fortune. In magical Kaballic prayer, it is said: "Screech like an Eagle, Speak as a Man, Roar ( as a lion) and Bellow (as a bull)." The four-faced messengers maybe have been sounds, specific frequencies that teleported or opened a portal for Ezikeil to the stars… or wherever he went.

Linda, when you have time, please ask Spartan 1 and 2 if the symbols on the skirting worn by the Chariot driver (of the Rider-Waite Tarot) match the hieroglyphic symbols seen on the black pyramids.

I will make three last points.

The Merkabah is two white and black pyramids, creating a 10-pointed star that forms a star chamber around the practitioner. The white pyramid is rotated clockwise while the black pyramid is spun counter-clockwise or counter-rotational by first commanding them and then visualizing the spins (God SAID let there be light, so sound BEFORE light, sound faster than light. The world must be spoken into existence before the light can shine upon it, allowing it to be seen). 

Two intercepting triangles make the 6-pointed star of David, which also represents a wheel, or the wheel of the Chariot, which is Ezekiel's wheel. These wheels, or parts of wheels in their pyramid form, are pulled by the Sphynx. Thereby the Sphynx directs the power of the pyramids. The Black Sphynx being somehow blocked from its communication with the White Sphynx, for whatever reason, prevents the full integration of the black and white pyramids.

Interesting that the 6-pointed star in Kabbalah (which again is the basis for the Tarot) is the Sun and holds the position of Tipareth, #6, or planetary Sol. Curious that two pyramids, white and black, are needed to make a whole wheel. On the emblem of the Chariot, we see a winged solar disk above a dreidel but nothing directly underneath the dreidel. Above the white pyramids, which are above ground, is the Sun we see daily. The Sun puts out more electromagnetic energy than anything else we know. Still, as with every pole, there must be a negative and positive (its science). Is it any wonder why the symbol for the Black Sun appears on the black pyramids? I believe the black pyramids are tuned to the black Sun.

Is the Black Flame, defended by the Knights of the Black Trapezoid, which resides in the Black Sphynx, as Michael Aquino mentioned, the Black Sun? Is the Black Flame at least some spark or piece of the Black Sun?

Lastly, the Chariot card, at a deeper level, is linked to the Garden of Eden. A divine enclosure that contained Adam and Eve, protecting them from the world's dangers within a controlled environment or biosphere. The Anunnaki, possible creators of humankind, might have used Antarctica as this Garden of Eden. They (Annunaki) may have caused a pole shift after they left. Closing off the Garden of Eden from Adam and Eve and their descendants, hiding it under a mile of ice. I believe, and I have remote viewed, that by 2030 Annunaki will return (my collective strongly agrees) at the tail end of a Solar minimum (Pole Shift), which would protect their planetoid-sized ship from our Sun. 

Under the ice, the pyramids are warming up to begin terraforming Antarctica back into the Garden of Eden in time for their return. They could return after an upcoming pole shift and its corresponding climate shift. It could be that the Black Sphynx may come back online shortly to aid in this massive terraforming project, but just hasn't yet.

Linda, I am on to something with this, and it is worth some investigation.

Thank you for your time,

Kevin Wikse

Original Post

My Response to "What is it you do?" by Kevin Wikse.

I received an email from someone claiming to be a successful remote viewer. Did they predict or warn about anything I have for the past decade? Apparently not, because, according to them, "Remote Viewing doesn't work that way," So, in other words, the Remote Viewing they practice doesn't work, and if their Remote Viewing doesn't work, then what is the point? There is no point, and that is why the US Army shut that program down and went with something that produced results.

"What is it you do?" 

My reply:

"We expose villainy through Remote Viewing and oppose it through Remote Influencing."

People who say it can't be done should keep out of the way of those doing it. 

-Kevin Wikse

Psychic Warfare is Real

Kevin Wikse by Kevin Wikse.

 

Kevin Wikse is the lead operative of the REDACTED. He oversees and directs the REDACTED operational activities, including which strategies and tactics it will employ. Kevin Wikse began his career as a psychic and medium early in childhood, pressed into a secret program called Project CHERUBIM while still in elementary school. Kevin Wikse is what in the UFO community is called an experiencer and a generational abductee. 

Kevin Wikse is among the most accomplished Remote Viewers and Remote Influencers worldwide. He is globally recognized for his understanding of Metaphysics, and his accomplishments and accuracy place him in the regular employ of government officials, private researchers, and captains of industry. Kevin Wikse's longstanding predictions for the 2020 Global Pandemic, vaccines, lock-down-specific technology and protocols, and civil unrest are well documented. 

No other psychic or remote viewer in the world predicted this event, and certainly not with the level of stunning accuracy and willingness to be public with their predictions as Kevin Wikse. 

Perhaps the less said about Kevin Wikse's spectral influence behind the demise of billionaire child sex trafficker Jeffery Epstein, the better, but that, too, is publicly documented. 

Kevin Wikse is also on record as the first Remote Viewer in 2017 to call the Oumuamua Asteroid, what is it, a fully automated interplanetary scout to collect and transmit recorded information about our planet from ancient monitoring satellites, including the infamous Black Knight Satellite. Kevin Wikse accurately "saw" the ignition of gigantic engines or machines (black pyramids, too), radio bursts, and other energy projections happening under and coming up from the ice in Antarctica. NASA confirmed what Kevin Wikse saw in press releases a few weeks later. 

Kevin Wikse has been publicly sounding the alarm concerning the upcoming Pole Shift global cataclysm for over a decade. He continues to routinely accurately predict geo-political circumstances involving various quasi-governmental organizations which are not in humanity's best interest. 

Kevin Wikse maintains psychic defense and astral protection for numerous high-profile individuals. He does this using an exceptionally powerful Egregore (an astral entity) he inherited from his spiritual mentor, who inherited it from his spiritual mentor. Kevin Wikse is commonly recruited into psychic warfare campaigns, successfully thwarting attempts at psychic espionage, preventing remote influencing, and bulwarking against the interference of interdimensional non-human intelligence. 

As a remote healer, the influence possessed by Kevin Wikse has resulted in smoother procedures, significantly less anxiety, and accelerated healing times.  

-Kevin Wikse

Lead operative at REDACTED

Remote Viewing & Remote Influencing

Kevin Wikse vs. The Men in Black by Kevin Wikse

Circa 1993 or 1994, I became acquainted with a Ufologist named Phil Schnieder, who I met after his presentation in Idaho Falls, Idaho. His death in 1996 was ruled a suicide. However, I and many others point to murder. Phil said he probably would not be alive much longer because of what he revealed. I have been told he was referring to his terminal cancer, but I suspect differently. 

I helped build and run a U.F.O. and conspiracy website in the late 90s and early 2000s, much of it focusing on Phil Schnieder's information and death. If memory serves, the website was through Geo-Cities. The website disappeared around 2006 after a long string of threats of violence and what we know today as doxing. When this experience happened, the website was already gone. I was meeting a friend in Los Angeles, CA, to discuss a new Phil Schnieder and U.F.O. project.

This experience cemented in me the vital importance of regular strength training. It also opened up new interests, such as the dedicated study and practice of Eye Gazing found within Hindu Tartaka meditation and the eye fascination of French Mesmerism. 

I would also like to connect with and discuss with others who have had M.I.B. encounters. I recapitulate this event often. The trauma is not easily overcome. Writing and talking about it is a great way to heal and express. It reminds me that I can handle anything if I can survive such an encounter.  

I have also been told that my experience leading up to the M.I.B. encounter matches the descriptions of directed energy or sonic weapons used against Targeted Individuals or T.I. These weapons reportedly induce wild shifts in mood and cause overwhelming anxiety in their targets.

__________________________________________________

I was driving from Idaho to California when I entered Nevada. It was a sunny August day on the I-15, and I was making good time. As I crossed the Nevada state line, I started focusing on this stretch of interstate's more eerie qualities. This realization came over me like a creeping sense of dread. Little by little, mile after mile, it consumed my thoughts.

A sudden wave of panic hit me so hard that I thought I was blindsided by a vehicle. I white-knuckled the steering wheel and stomped the brakes. The once wide open and beautiful desert fast became a vast wasteland of soul-crushing isolation.

I took a few moments to collect myself. Sweat trickled down my forehead as I sat frozen in fear. I felt like something was chasing me, but there was nothing, just an empty road ahead and behind me. After a few minutes of controlled breathing, the panic dissipated enough for me to tentatively step on the gas.

After I got rolling, another internal conflict started to stir inside me. My inner chatter began debating whether I should continue driving to California, or at least Las Vegas (less than an hour away), or pull over and wait until these feelings passed. From every logical perspective pulling over was a foolish idea. However, I could not shake the feeling of despair and near panic. Soon I caught myself vividly imagining how someone might commit suicide in the desert. The urge to wallow in these dangerous thoughts was so persistent it was becoming difficult to remember where I was going.

A chill went through me. I wasn't driving at all but idling on the side of the road. How long had I been like this? I did not know, but I knew something was wrong. Was I going to die here? My immediate answer was no. A flash of white-hot anger exploded in my brain for reasons born out of pure survival instinct. I gunned it, pedal to the metal. I tore down the road, fully determined to escape this nightmare and get to California.

The feeling of progressing forward was exhilarating, and I breathed sighs of relief. I was in the process of filing away the ordeal when flashing blue lights grabbed my attention. An honest "what the fuck” moment as a black sedan with its visor lights on full blast dominated my rearview mirror. All my prior psychodrama completely vanished at the arrival of one all-encompassing thought, "Where the fuck did that pig come from?!". In disbelief, I eased off the gas and veered to the side of the road. I mused the vehicle might pass me by; maybe it was en route to an emergency. But my vain hope evaporated when the black sedan decreased its speed and slowly crept in behind me.

Retrieving my license and registration, I readied myself to provide one-worded answers to the crafted questions from an asshole with both a badge and a quota. Minutes passed, but the black sedan just sat there. I recognized the mind games, and I would not be rattled. Waiting for an officer to exit allowed me to make two notable observations concerning the vehicle. First, it was minus a front license plate; second, the windshield was tinted. Neither implication sat well with me. 

When the driver's side door finally opened, an imposing creature appeared. At 6'6 or 6'7, he was lanky and a bit gangly. He resembled a Dick Tracy villain in his black trench coat and fedora. But no matter how cartoonish this skinny ogre looked, the violence he carried in his face was no laughing matter.

He didn't walk but instead marched towards me. He stopped abruptly, maybe a foot from my driver's side door. Stooping down and leaning in a little to meet me face-to-face. We eyed each other, but neither of us spoke. His gaze was cruel. His eyes had the tint of albinism pink. I knew, whatever he was, he wasn't a cop or an F.B.I. agent, at least not the "on books" kind. 

As vicious as it was, his unblinking glare possessed a fascinating quality. Intuitively I knew I ran the risk of becoming hypnotized by it. I kept breaking eye contact with him and checked my rearview mirror. He noticed this and spoke. 

"Just what the fuck do you think you will see back there?" he said, breaking the silence in an odd, maybe purposely distorted, high-pitched voice.

"Well, aren't there usually two of you clowns?" I replied, toggling my attention between his stare and my rearview mirror.

His eyes flared at my question. I finally noticed he had no eyebrows or eyelashes. His face reminded me of a burn victim's. His skin did not seem real. Waxy-yellow in color. His face was hairless, with ultra-thin lips and a small vertical ridge for a nose. 

The pitchiness of his voice grew sterner, "What do you mean there are usually two of us clowns?!" he questioned, unhitching his fixed gaze on me and looking back to the black sedan.

"I am not exactly sure what type of clown you are or who else might come piling out of your clown car, but I know you are no cop, and I am under no legal obligation to stay here," I replied, matching his sterner tone and reaching for my keys.

"You are not sure of anything, are you, Kevin? And not for a while now. You don't know how you feel. You don't know what you are doing in that shit show you call your life. Certainly, you don't know where you are going, not now or in general", he retorted, emphasizing my name and widening his eyes as he re-trained his stare at me.

He likely sensed mild distress in me after dropping my name and eluding to the high strangeness I recently experienced. 

"You are not going anywhere. Your erratic and unsafe driving will probably get you killed. But what will get you killed is the "crazy person" shit you post online. You sound like a real goddamn fucking lunatic on your website. That is some real loony bin material you are cranking out. Aliens and U.F.O.s, that is crazy talk! Someone ought to have you committed somewhere. You need some fucking help, Kevin." He growled and showed his teeth, stretching his thin lips to reveal tiny, sharp-looking teeth like a piranha's.

The gravitas of my situation was not lost on me. The idea of being "disappeared" by this entity ignited a secondary explosion of white-hot defiance in my brain.

"I make you two promises, you aberrant fish-faced mutant fuck! I am not going anywhere with you, and I will post this online!" I growled back and went to fire up my truck.

"Well, looks like we are about to have another missing person," he roared and lunged at me.

His speed was surprising, but the force with which he slammed his elongated body into the side of my truck startled me. He was astonishingly strong. He seized my throat with his right hand, and I could barely prevent being wholly manhandled by him. His long-fingered and slender left hand swatted my right hand away from the keys, still in the ignition, and clamped down on my wrist with unexpected authority. He wanted those keys, and we both knew I would be fucked if he got them.

The years of crushing closed heavy hand grippers till blood dribbled out from underneath my fingernails, ripping giant monster-class kettlebells off the ground to overhead till the skin on my hands tore open, and swinging large clubs and maces till my forearm muscles swelled so much I couldn't make a fist, were all being called into action. 

I shifted my body as best I could to better square up with him. I snaked my right hand under and over his left wrist. I cleverly outwrestled his wrist grab, now pinning his left side against the steering wheel with my right, securing it with as much strength and body weight as I could marshal. Reaching up with my free hand, I grasped his right thumb and curtly peeled it back and away from my throat, feeling his thumb either break or dislocate inside my grip.

This maneuver cleared away his right arm enough so I could pepper his fishy face with a few short-range jabs. However, they lacked the sting I felt he deserved, so I forced fed his mouth and strange nose my elbow instead. Those seemed like they hurt. Unfortunately for me, he was just getting warmed up. He answered by raining down a barrage of retaliatory rights with scary force. I brought my thickly muscled forearm and shoulder together, clasping the back of my head, forming a meat shield to bear the brunt of his assault. I shudder when I think about the fate which would've awaited me had punches gotten through and knocked me unconscious.

My survival lay in keeping his left hand pinned against the wheel. This simple tactic prevented him from grabbing my keys, re-establishing distance, achieving better positioning, pulling a weapon, or other possibilities that could quickly spell out my doom.

He had me like a cornered animal. Thankfully that animal was a lion. I knew I could not keep his hand pinned forever. I was a cornered lion, and him the tiger I had by his tail. Being inside the truck also limited his actions against me and restricted my options. I was being crushed between a rock and a hard place. Having reached this dour stalemate, we continued to tear at each other. If not for self-preservation, then out of sheer frustration.

He was really tenderizing my left arm with his punches. My shoulder and tricep were starting to cramp, and soon, my meat shield would be breached. I had to make a move. I transformed my left thumb into a vengeful spike and drove it hard and deep into his earhole. I redirected his focus through sudden and unexpected pain. I quickly latched onto his ear with a vice-tight pinch grip. I sacrificed the pin I had over his left hand for a wrist grab, and by his ear and wrist, I yanked him into the truck.

He was now genuinely face-to-face with me but so close and off-balance he couldn't leverage his strength to injure me. Bent over and sideways, he was high-centered over my truck's window. His lower body was dangling out the side. 

I would make my play. I noticed a screwdriver tucked into a utility pouch behind the passenger's seat during our grapple, and I desperately needed a weapon. I attempted to serpentine my left arm, under his left arm, around the back of his neck. A half-nelson hold barring and securing him. I hoped to quickly reach back for the screwdriver with my right hand. He felt his opening when I let go of his wrist and immediately clawed at my eyes. Knowing how strong he was and how vulnerable my eye would be, I had no choice but to defend my eyes instead of going for the screwdriver. Twisting to his belly, he almost slithered back out the window. He tried to escape.

His establishing distance meant almost certain death for me. Again I brought my years of hoisting heavy iron and club swinging to bear against him. I lassoed him in a side headlock with my left and extremely battered arm, then, inch by agonizing inch, ratcheted him back in. I forced his left arm down with my right arm and trapped it between my knees. At last, I had him secured. 

It was now or never. 

I grabbed the screwdriver and pulled it from the utility pouch like Excalibur from the stone. Employing the screwdriver as an ice pick, I savagely perforated his face and the top of his skull, rendering his head a block of Swiss cheese. I was shocked to see that his blood was red. I was not expecting that.

If I thought he was strong before, I hadn't seen anything yet. He must have had a white-hot explosion of his own (inspired in the way only a screwdriver to the face can) as he thrashed about with such rage I lost total control of him. He launched himself back out the window. He fell prone onto the asphalt with his large mutant hands covering his face, writhing and screaming. I was tempted to get out of my truck to finish him off and perhaps claim a piece of him. However, survival tactics trumped trophy hunting, and I fired up my truck instead. I peeled out from the side of the road, leaving him and whoever else might have been in that black sedan in the dust.

My paranoia subsided when I reached Los Angeles. It would be days later before I wasn't routinely checking over my shoulder, more than usual. If my special M.I.B friend should ever read this, I've kept my promises to you.

I am ready to finish it whenever you are. 

-Kevin Wikse

Cryptid Currency