If you haven't already read part one, then please go back to that first or this is going to make no sense to you whatsoever.
Ok, here we go again for round two!
Chapter 10 & 11
In this chapter, our charecter Graham finds himself caught up in a huge battle between the oppressed working-class and the world council and their security teams. Now up until this point I hadn't noted the police forces, but essentially Wells makes a point in his novel of making a distinction between white police/army who wear a red uniform, and 'negro' police/army forces who wear black and yellow stripes as a uniform.
(Ok, I'm not actually suggesting this awful record is in anyway connected, lol.)
The battle comes to blows with the revolutionaries taking huge casualties because the security forces deliberately cut the lights out in the city (all lighting in the city is seemingly artificial.) In the confusion Graham manages to get away to a quiet residential district where in the next chapter he has a long conversation with an elderly gentleman who seems to understand the world more than anyone else.
One of the most interesting points raised by the old man is the following:
"No," said Graham, wondering what Babble Machine might be. "And you are certain this Ostrog -- you are certain Ostrog organised this rebellion and arranged for the waking of the Sleeper? Just to assert himself -- because he was not elected to the Council?
"Everyone knows that, I should think," said the old man. "Except -- just fools.
Basically, in this chapter we understand that Ostrog's rebellion has nothing to do with the rights of the every day person but has more to do with the fact that he was not elected to be apart of the twelve man council. It was Ostrog who awoke Graham with drugs in order to use him politically, in order to stir up the population to act in a way that he wanted.
The following passage said by the old man though is perhaps the most true thing ever said in a work of fiction, read this next passage carefully and think who might be this council today:
"Eh! -- but you're not up to things. Money attracts money -- and twelve brains are better than one. They played it cleverly. They worked politics with money, and kept on adding to the money by working currency and tariffs. They grew -- they grew. And for years the twelve trustees hid the growing of the Sleeper's estate, under double names and company titles and all that. The Council spread by title deed, mortgage, share, every political party, every newspaper, they bought. If you listen to the old stories you will see the Council growing and growing Billions and billions of lions at last -- the Sleeper's estate. And all growing out of a whim -- out of this Warming's will, and an accident to Isbister's sons.
The council then are what we may today see as globalist bankers, and perhaps to name and shame, Zionism. Who in today's world uses vast amounts of money to sway political opinion, works financial institutions around to suit their own, and owns vast media empires? Zionist Jews, that's who, and their helper monkeys around the globe supporting gross globalisation who fuck their own kinsmen over in the process.
This paragraph said by the old man leads me to personally believe that the 'sleeper' in the financial sense in this book is actually you and I. In other words, the general public which works, takes loans, makes investments and generally uses the financial institutions. If we were all aware of how our own money, how our own labour, was being hijacked, used and manipulated by the most powerful people in the world, we would realise our place as being the true masters. But we aren't, or at least we collectively prefer to remain silent and allow our labours to be leeched off of.
Another sign of the times, when the uprising occurs the rebellion is ill-armed when compared with the 'red police', which tends to suggest that the worlds population has been without proper warfare or access to weaponry for some considerable time.
"That is the flag of the Council -- the flag of the Rule of the World. It will fall. The fight is over. Their attack on the theatre was their last frantic struggle. They have only a thousand men or so, and some of these men will be disloyal. They have little ammunition. And we are reviving the ancient arts. We are casting guns."
The above paragraph seems to show that to have any chance of ousting a unwanted leadership, you need to build and store weapons to do it.
With the defeat of the 'red police' and the twelve man council, Graham is expected to give a speech on a balcony overlooking the vast crowds from the 'council' building. Look however at this rather interesting few paragraphs:
The western sky was a pallid bluish green, and Jupiter shone high in the south, before the capitulation was accomplished. Above was a slow insensible change, the advance of night serene and beautiful; below was hurry, excitement, conflicting orders, pauses, spasmodic developments of organisation, a vast ascending clamour and confusion. Before the Council came out, toiling perspiring men, directed by a conflict of shouts, carried forth hundreds of those who had perished in the hand-to-hand conflict within those long passages and chambers.
"The Master, the Master! God and the Master," shouted the people." To hell with the Council!" Graham looked at their multitudes, receding beyond counting into a shouting haze, and then at Ostrog beside him, white and steadfast and still. His eye went again to the little group of White Councillors. And then he looked up at the familiar quiet stars overhead. The marvellous element in his fate was suddenly vivid. Could that be his indeed, that little life in his memory two hundred years gone by -- and this as well?
I've highlighted perhaps one of the most revealing points in all of this. Ostrog, the man who the people believe is leading them to freedom from oppresion is using Graham as a way of controlling the masses to do much worse than the twelve man council ever intended. Graham at this point believes that he is to be supreme leader, and the people do too. The highlighted segment above refers to the bizarre inclusion of the description of the night sky displaying Jupiter 'high in the south'.
Consider that they are in the hall of Atlas, with the statue holding 'the globe' (Uranus) and he just happens to look up and pay particular attention to Jupiter in the nights sky...
Again, Atlas with Uranus equates to ultimate achievement of mankind, high attainment or of man gaining god-like status.
Jupiter in the occult and astrology circles equates to deeper thought and knowledge, the third eye, dimensions and unsurprisingly wealth. These things will come obvious in a few chapters time, but try to realise that these two symbols together come together to create what could be an occultists ideal symbolic interpretation of ultimate attainment of human development.
There is too much to write on when evalualting this chapter. Far too much rings true today when we look back at history that it is quite worrying. The only thing which Wells got completely wrong was the idea that the technology of flight would be held back, but don't forget this book was probably written before the Wright brothers had displayed their heavier-than-air contraption, flight at the time before the big break through was like our current predicament with finding inter-planetary transport for humans.
Wielding an enormous influence and patronage, the Council had early assumed a political aspect; and in its development it had continually used its wealth to tip the beam of political decisions and its political advantages to grasp yet more and more wealth. At last the party organisations of two hemispheres were in its hands; it became an inner council of political control. Its last struggle was with the tacit alliance of the great Jewish families. But these families were linked only by a feeble sentiment, at any time inheritance might fling a huge fragment of their resources to a minor, a woman or a fool, marriages and legacies alienated hundreds of thousands at one blow. The Council had no such breach in its continuity. Steadily, steadfastly it grew.
The original Council was not simply twelve men of exceptional ability; they fused, it was a council of genius. It struck boldly for riches, for political influence, and the two subserved each other. With amazing foresight it spent great sums of money on the art of flying, holding that invention back against an hour foreseen. It used the patent laws, and a thousand half-legal expedients, to hamper all investigators who refused to work with it. In the old days it never missed a capable man. It paid his price. Its policy in those days was vigorous -- unerring, and against it as it grew steadily and incessantly was only the chaotic selfish rule of the casually rich. In a hundred years Graham had become almost exclusive owner of Africa, of South America, of France, of London, of England and all its influence -- for all practical purposes, that is -- a power in North America -- then the dominant power in America. The Council bought and organised China, drilled Asia, crippled the Old World empires, undermined them financially, fought and defeated them.
And this spreading usurpation of the world was so dexterously performed -- a proteus -- hundreds of banks, companies, syndicates, masked the Council's operations -- that it was already far advanced before common men suspected the tyranny that had come. The Council never hesitated, never faltered. Means of communication, land, buildings, governments, municipalities, the territorial companies of the tropics, every human enterprise, it gathered greedily. And it drilled and marshalled its men, its railway police, its roadway police, its house guards, and drain and cable guards, its hosts of land-workers. Their unions it did not fight, but it undermined and betrayed and bought them. It bought the world at last. And, finally, its culminating stroke was the introduction of flying.
I'll let the reader gauge the prophecy of the above few paragraphs.
In this chapter Graham is at a private function whereby all the 'important' people like the mayors, priests, government advisers and film directors etc all meet to suck up to each other. Whilst this is interesting from the perspective that today's society is taught to respect the 'celebrity' class, there isn't too much going on in this chapter save for the discussion on education which highlights very well what todays 'education' is like today.
"About the public elementary schools," said Graham. "Do you control them?"
The Surveyor-General did, "entirely." Now, Graham, in his later democratic days, had taken a keen interest in these and his questioning quickened. Certain casual phrases that had fallen from the old man with whom he had talked in the darkness recurred to him. The Surveyor-General, in effect, endorsed the old man's words. "We have abolished Cram," he said, a phrase Graham was beginning to interpret as the abolition of all sustained work. The Surveyor-General became sentimental. "We try and make the elementary schools very pleasant for the little children. They will have to work so soon. Just a few simple principles -- obedience -- industry."
"You teach them very little?"
"Why should we? It only leads to trouble and discontent. We amuse them. Even as it is -- there are troubles -- agitations. Where the labourers get the ideas, one cannot tell. They tell one another. There are socialistic dreams -- anarchy even! Agitators will get to work among them. I take it -- I have always taken it -- that my foremost duty is to fight against popular discontent. Why should people be made unhappy?"
Essentially teach the lower-class kids a load of shit to humour them and to ensure they can at least fulfill basic employment duties and try discredit any child or any one who speaks out about or works out what is really going on.
It was this part of the book which originally made me go back and re-read this novel because of its compelling resemblance of the final proposed intentions of the UN's agenda 21:
The vegetation of this waste undulated and frothed amidst the countless cells of crumbling house walls, and broke along the foot of the city wall in a surf of bramble and holly and ivy and teazle and tall grasses. Here and there gaudy pleasure palaces towered amidst the puny remains of Victorian times, and cable ways slanted to them from the city. That winter day they seemed deserted. Deserted, too, were the artificial gardens among the ruins. The city limits were indeed as sharply defined as in the ancient days when the gates were shut at nightfall and the robber foreman prowled to the very walls. A huge semi-circular throat poured out a vigorous traffic upon the Eadhamite Bath Road. So the first prospect of the world beyond the city flashed on Graham, and dwindled. And when at last he could look vertically downward again, he saw below him the vegetable fields of the Thames valley -- innumerable minute oblongs of ruddy brown, intersected by shining threads, the sewage ditches.
In chapter 18, Graham is approached by a young woman who begins to really tell him how shit life is for the average working class citizen after Graham has buried his head in the sand by taking up flying as a hobby whilst leaving Ostrog to run the world in his stead.
She turned a flushed face upon him, moving suddenly. "Your days were the days of freedom. Yes -- I have thought. I have been made to think, for my life -- has not been happy. Men are no longer free -- no greater, no better than the men of your time. That is not all. This city -- is a prison. Every city now is a prison. Mammon grips the key in his hand. Myriads, countless myriads, toil from the cradle to the grave. Is that right? Is that to be -- for ever? Yes, far worse than in your time. All about us, beneath us, sorrow and pain. All the shallow delight of such life as you find about you, is separated by just a little from a life of wretchedness beyond any telling Yes, the poor know it -- they know they suffer. These countless multitudes who faced death for you two nights since -- ! You owe your life to them."
Up until this point the reader has been more or less been lead to assume that the every day person lives a fantastic life when compared with Victorian living standards, but this girl turns this view on its head.
"You come," she said, "from the days when this new tyranny of the cities was scarcely beginning. It is a tyranny -- a tyranny. In your days the feudal war lords had gone, and the new lordship of wealth had still to come. Half the men in the world still lived out upon the free countryside. The cities had still to devour them. I have heard the stories out of the old books -- there was nobility! Common men led lives of love and faithfulness then -- they did a thousand things. And you -- you come from that time."
Again, in the grand scheme of things, things probably were at its best for people in the 1910's up until the 1950's, if of course you take out of consideration the two world wars. When you consider the stereotypical lifestyle of a late Victorian age farm labourer with a working class man from twenty-teens, the difference is astounding. Yes the poor man from Victorian times might have worked bloody hard for his small wage, but there was community, freedom. Back then you had everything you needed and nothing you wanted. Now we have everything we want, and very little of what we need.
"They are the slaves -- your slaves. They are the slaves of the Labour Company you own."
"The Labour Company! In some way -- that is familiar. Ah! now I remember. I saw it when I was wandering about the city, after the lights returned, great fronts of buildings coloured pale blue. Do you really mean -- ?"
"Yes. How can I explain it to you? Of course the blue uniform struck you. Nearly a third of our people wear it -- more assume it now every day. This Labour Company has grown imperceptibly."
"What is this Labour Company?" asked Graham.
"In the old times, how did you manage with starving people?"
"There was the workhouse -- which the parishes maintained."
"Workhouse! Yes -- there was something. In our history lessons. I remember now. The Labour Company ousted the workhouse. It grew -- partly -- out of something -- you, perhaps, may remember it -- an emotional religious organisation called the Salvation Army -- that became a business company. In the first place it was almost a charity. To save people from workhouse rigours. Now I come to think of it, it was one of the earliest properties your Trustees acquired. They bought the Salvation Army and reconstructed it as this. The idea in the first place was to give work to starving homeless people."
"Nowadays there are no workhouses, no refuges and charities, nothing but that Company. Its offices are everywhere. That blue is its colour. And any man, woman or child who comes to be hungry and weary and with neither home nor friend nor resort, must go to the Company in the end -- or seek some way of death. The Euthanasy is beyond their means -- for the poor there is no easy death. And at any hour in the day or night there is food, shelter and a blue uniform for all comers -- that is the first condition of the Company s incorporation -- and in return for a day's shelter the Company extracts a day's work, and then returns the visitor's proper clothing and sends him or her out again."
"Perhaps that does not seem so terrible to you. In your days men starved in your streets. That was bad. But they died -- men. These people in blue -- . The proverb runs: 'Blue canvas once and ever.' The Company trades in their labour, and it has taken care to assure itself of the supply. People come to it starving and helpless -- they eat and sleep for a night and day, they -work for a day, and at the end of the day they go out again. If they have worked well they have a penny or so -- enough for a theatre or a cheap dancing place, or a kinematograph story, or a dinner or a bet. They wander about after that is spent. Begging is prevented by the police of the ways. Besides, no one gives. They come back again the next day or the day after -- brought back by the same incapacity that brought them first. At last their proper clothing wears out, or their rags get so shabby that they are ashamed. Then they must work for months to get fresh. If they want fresh. A great number of children are born under the Company's care. The mother owes them a month thereafter -- the children they cherish and educate until they are fourteen, and they pay two years' service. You may be sure these children are educated for the blue canvas. And so it is the Company works."
These last few paragraghs at first glimpse appear to be nothing like the kind of society we now find ourselves but actually in a roundabout way rather are. If we are to accept that the people in power engineered minimum wage and social welfare as a way of keeping society in check, rather than the state taking up the noble role of protector you get the conclusion that instead our own homes and jobs have become a part of the workhouse. Minimum wage is slavery, and society no longer requires the slaves to live in slave accommodation, the slave works better if he is lead to believe he is free.
Chapter 19 gives us the shocker. Graham goes to Ostrog, this figure who is running the world in Grahams name, the man who is supposedly the working mans savior to confront him about why nothing has been done with the terrible working and living conditions.
"Must the world go this way?" said Graham, with his emotions at the speaking point. "Must it indeed go in this way? Have all our hopes been vain?"
"What do you mean?" said Ostrog. "Hopes?"
"I came from a democratic age. And I find an aristocratic tyranny!"
"Well, -- but you are the chief tyrant."
Graham shook his head.
"Well," said Ostrog, "take the general question. It is the way that change has always travelled. Aristocracy, the prevalence of the best -- the suffering and extinction of the unfit, and so to better things."
"But aristocracy! those people I met --"
"Oh! not those!" said Ostrog. "But for the most part they go to their death. Vice and pleasure! They have no children. That sort of stuff will die out. If the world keeps to one road, that is, if there is no turning back. An easy road to excess, convenient Euthanasia for the pleasure seekers singed in the flame, that is the way to improve the race!"
This above pretty much highlights the opinion and world view of the self proclaimed 'elite' and eugenicists. As Wells was in these same sort of circles and believed in the principles of 'survival of the fittest', it is my belief that this chapter actually reflects a duality of character within Wells. On the one side there was this part of him which felt the need to support what was morally right, and on the other, the pull to do what felt was logically right.
Put into perspective with the earlier talk of 'dreaming' and of different states of consciousness it is not completely radical to believe that this conversation is actually internally within the authors own head, or that Ostrog is Wells in his adulthood speaking internally with his more youthful and idealistic self.
This conversation continues:
because in me -- in me -- they hoped."
"And what was their hope? What is their hope? What right have they to hope? They work ill and they want the reward of those who work well. The hope of mankind -- what is it? That some day the Over-man may come, that some day the inferior, the weak and the bestial may be subdued or eliminated. Subdued if not eliminated. The world is no place for the bad, the stupid, the enervated. Their duty -- it's a fine duty too! -- is to die. The death of the failure! That is the path by which the beast rose to manhood, by which man goes on to higher things."
Ostrog took a pace, seemed to think, and turned on Graham. "I can imagine how this great world state of ours seems to a Victorian Englishman. You regret all the old forms of representative government -- their spectres still haunt the world, the voting councils and parliaments and all that eighteenth century tomfoolery You feel moved against our Pleasure Cities. I might have thought of that, -- had I not been busy. But you will learn better. The people are mad with envy -- they would be in sympathy with you. Even in the streets now, they clamour to destroy the Pleasure Cities. But the Pleasure Cities are the excretory organs of the State, attractive places that year after year draw together all that is weak and vicious, all that is lascivious and lazy, all the easy roguery of the world, to a graceful destruction. They go there, they have their time, they die childless, all the pretty silly lascivious women die childless, and mankind is the better. If the people were sane they would not envy the rich their way of death. And you would emancipate the silly brainless workers that we have enslaved, and try to make their lives easy and pleasant again. Just as they have sunk to what they are fit for. "He smiled a smile that irritated Graham oddly. "You will learn better. I know those ideas; in my boyhood I read your Shelley and dreamt of Liberty. There is no liberty, save wisdom and self control. Liberty is within -- not without. It is each man's own affair. Suppose -- which is impossible -- that these swarming yelping fools in blue get the upper hand of us, what then? They will only fall to other masters. So long as there are sheep Nature will insist on beasts of prey. It would mean but a few hundred years' delay. The coming of the aristocrat is fatal and assured. The end will be the Over-man -- for all the mad protests of humanity. Let them revolt, let them win and kill me and my like. Others will arise -- other masters. The end will be the same."
And you think this view of society isn't shared by the people in power?
At the same time, Ostrog is preparing for yet more civil unrest, this time directed at himself after he has done nothing to change the status-quo for ordinary people (not that he had ever intended on doing so if you read the last few paragraphs.) What is interesting is that he intends on bringing in the yellow and black clad 'negro police' to quell the next rebellion.
Graham, the more deliberately judicial for the stirring emotions he felt, asked if there had been any fighting. "A little," said Ostrog. "In one quarter only. But the Senegalese division of our African agricultural police -- the Consolidated African Companies have a very well drilled police -- was ready, and so were the aeroplanes. We expected a little trouble in the continental cities, and in America. But things are very quiet in America. They are satisfied with the overthrow of the Council For the time."
"Why should you expect trouble?" asked Graham abruptly.
"There is a lot of discontent -- social discontent."
"The Labour Company?"
"You are learning," said Ostrog with a touch of surprise. "Yes. It is chiefly the discontent with the Labour Company. It was that discontent supplied the motive force of this overthrow -- that and your awakening."
Ostrog smiled. He became explicit. "We had to stir up their discontent, we had to revive the old ideals of universal happiness -- all men equal -- all men happy -- no luxury that everyone may not share -- ideas that have slumbered for two hundred years. You know that? We had to revive these ideals, impossible as they are -- in order to overthrow the Council. And now --"
"Our revolution is accomplished, and the Council is overthrown, and people whom we have stirred up remain surging. There was scarcely enough fighting . . . We made promises, of course. It is extraordinary how violently and rapidly this vague out-of-date humanitarianism has revived and spread. We who sowed the seed even, have been astonished. In Paris, as I say -- we have had to call in a little external help."
"There is trouble. Multitudes will not go back to work. There is a general strike. Half the factories are empty and the people are swarming in the Ways. They are talking of a Commune. Men in silk and satin have been insulted in the streets. The blue canvas is expecting all sorts of things from you.... Of course there is no need for you to trouble. We are setting the Babble Machines to work with counter suggestions in the cause of law and order. We must keep the grip tight; that is all."
Graham thought. He perceived a way of asserting himself. But he spoke with restraint.
"Even to the pitch of bringing a negro police," he said.
"They are useful," said Ostrog. "They are fine loyal brutes, with no wash of ideas in their heads -- such as our rabble has. The Council should have had them as police of the Ways, and things might have been different.
After this long conversation, Graham tries to assert his power as 'king' of the world by saying he does not want any negroes in London.
"I have been thinking about these negroes. I don't believe the people intend any hostility to me, and, after all, I am the Master. I do not want any negroes brought to London. It is an archaic prejudice perhaps, but I have peculiar feelings about Europeans and the subject races. Even about Paris --"
Ostrog stood watching him from under his drooping brows." I am not bringing negroes to London," he said slowly." But if --"
"You are not to bring armed negroes to London, whatever happens," said Graham. "In that matter I am quite decided."
Ostrog, after a pause, decided not to speak, and bowed deferentially.
Chapter 20 - 23
Towards the end of the novel, Graham who decides that he ought to help with the plight of the everyday man goes out to live with the lower-classes in disguise. It is only towards the end that Graham realises that Ostrog uses Grahams absence as a way to try and overthrow and take ultimate power by the use of the negroid police.
He rushes back to the hall of Atlas to confront Ostrog.
Ostrog said something to Lincoln and advanced alone.
Graham was the first to speak. His voice was loud and dictatorial. "What is this I hear?" he asked. "Are you bringing negroes here -- to keep the people down?"
"It is none too soon," said Ostrog. "They have been getting out of hand more and more, since the revolt. I under-estimated --"
"Do you mean that these infernal negroes are on the way?"
"On the way. As it is, you have seen the people -- outside?"
"No wonder! But -- after what was said. You have taken too much on yourself, Ostrog."
Ostrog said nothing, but drew nearer.
"These negroes must not come to London," said Graham. "I am Master and they shall not come."
Ostrog glanced at Lincoln, who at once came towards them with his two attendants close behind him. "Why not?" asked Ostrog.
"White men must be mastered by white men. Besides --"
"The negroes are only an instrument."
"But that is not the question. I am the Master. I mean to be the Master. And I tell you these negroes shall not come."
"The people --"
"I believe in the people."
"Because you are an anachronism. You are a man out of the Past -- an accident. You are Owner perhaps of half the property in the world. But you are not Master. You do not know enough to be Master."
He glanced at Lincoln again. "I know now what you think -- I can guess something of what you mean to do. Even now it is not too late to warn you. You
dream of human equality -- of a socialistic order -- you have all those worn-out dreams of the nineteenth century fresh and vivid in your mind, and you would rule this age that you do not understand."
"Listen!" said Graham. "You can hear it -- a sound like the sea. Not voices -- but a voice. Do you altogether understand?"
"We taught them that," said Ostrog.
"Perhaps. Can you teach them to forget it? But enough of this! These negroes must not come."
There was a pause and Ostrog looked him in the eyes.
"They will," he said.
"I forbid it," said Graham.
"They have started."
"I will not have it."
"No," said Ostrog. "Sorry as I am to follow the method of the Council -- . For your own good -- you must not side with disorder. And now that you are here -- . It was kind of you to come here."
Lincoln laid his hand on Graham's shoulder. Abruptly Graham realized the enormity of his blunder in coming to the Council House. He turned towards the curtains that separated the hall from the antechamber. The clutching hand of Asano intervened. In another moment Lincoln had grasped Graham's cloak.
Betrayed, there is a scuffle and eventually Ostrog gets away on an aircraft, the novel ends with Graham in pursuit of Ostrog in his own craft which he crashes and ends up killing himself. Essentially then, if my theory on this story of Graham and Ostrog being different dualities inside Wells psyche, the survivor is the eugenicist elitist Wells, and not the humanist Victorian we came to respect throughout the novel.
But what is most interesting in the last parts of this story is the use of ethnic minorities to quell the crowd. I'm not suggesting that Western nations are going to start hiring black mercenaries to defend the elite, but think what multiculturalism has done in Western society and how it has completely destroyed our individual national sovereignty and cultural expressions. When Ostrog says that the negroes are 'just a tool', I don't think it is complete coincidence that it is also forced mass-migration which has brought about our own societies to a state of collapse and fragmentation. This fragmentation has prevented and continues to prevent working class unity, and it will continue to do so. Whilst they have the slaves all sitting at home blaming each other for various ailments of society, the ones who stand to benefit from the situation get away with it scott free, and those are without question our globalist banking friends in the happy zionist family.
Now think back to when we saw Jupiter in the hall of Atlas, an occultist representation of high consciousness combined with ultimate human attainment. It was when Graham had been formally recognized as King, but at that point he was completely unaware that he was being betrayed and lied to by Ostrog who he trusted, and the secret society which he represented.
So putting this all together, I would say that Wells saw the best way of human development going forward was for the people to trust and believe in a gullible front man who he himself believes he holds power, who in reality really leaves all the decision making to a logical, eugenics inspired secretive bunch who operate behind the scenes. In truth there was not much different in terms of Government between the original council of twelve and Ostrog's final Governmental approach except in as much as that the people allowed themselves to be duped and believed they had a choice.
And that pretty much sums up everything about the modern world. This whole book pretty much represents the modern world today, whether or not I'm right about the occult links or not.
Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed reading this, I' am aware I've probably made a few mistakes but I think you'll agree that this is extremely heavy going and a colossal mind fuck.
Please leave any comments at the bottom, I'd be really interested to know peoples feedback.