The Undergrounders and Salvador Freixedo

[Sindy-S.R]

Thanks to The Cassiopaean Experiment's Substack, I was reminded of an old memory of a book I read about 15 years ago, The Human Farm (They, the Invisible Owners of This Planet) (1988) by Salvador Freixedo.

The Undergrounders Part 1

From Agartha to the Deros to the Cryptoterrestrials

cassiopaea.substack.com

LA GRANJA HUMANA de Salvador Freixedo | Casa del Libro

Consigue LA GRANJA HUMANA de Salvador Freixedo en PDF ¡Entra YA!

www.casadellibro.com

I'm adding information about the author and the book:

Salvador Freixedo (April 18, 1923 – October 25, 2019)[1] was a Spanish Catholic priest and a member of the Jesuit order. A ufologist and researcher of paranormal subjects, he wrote several books on the relationship between religion and extraterrestrial beings and was a speaker at several international UFO congresses in Europe, the Americas, and Asia. He was also a contributor to several parascientific magazines, such as Mundo Desconocido (Unknown World),[2] Karma 7, and Más allá (Beyond),[3] among others. He also appeared in several TV and radio shows dedicated to these subjects.

Salvador Freixedo - Wikipedia

en.wikipedia.org

For those unfamiliar with Salvador Freixedo's work, his approach to the UFO phenomenon is considerably similar to the vision of Laura and the Cassiopaeans.
I suspect that Freixedo, unknowingly, had, through some acquaintances, an indirect relationship with some undergrounders
I believe the book is only available in Spanish. To begin, I'll add the chapter "Lula," translated into English.
In the next few days, I'll publish two more chapters related to encounters with undergrounders.

LULA​

I've known Lula since 1973. I had been invited to speak about my experiences in researching the UFO phenomenon at the home of an English friend, an engineer by profession, in Caracas. For that reason, he had also invited a group of people interested in the subject. One of the guests was Lula, who was supposed to come with her husband, who, although not as interested as Lula, occasionally spoke of very interesting things about these same topics, which showed that he was thoroughly knowledgeable about the subject.

Lula came, but without her husband, and actively participated in the conversation that followed my talk among everyone who had attended. We said goodbye, and at no point did I suspect that precisely at that time she was a direct witness and, in a way, the main character in a very interesting drama in which the other actor was an "extraterrestrial," with all the reservations that this word arouses in me.

It would be almost ten years before I saw Lula again, this time in Madrid, after Antonio José Alés's "Medianoche" program on Cadena SER.

Lula called me saying she wanted to talk to me the next day. During all that time, I had heard from her many times, through mutual friends who began to tell me about her extremely interesting case.

It all began in the early 1970s, at the Carriage Museum in the Royal Palace of Madrid. Lula was taking a vacation to relax from the many tensions she had recently been under due to her poor relationship with her husband. The arguments were almost constant, and the large age difference between them made things even worse. Although she disliked having to be away from her young children for a few days, she decided to leave so she could reflect more fully on the situation and calm down.

That afternoon, the museum was practically empty. Lula had stopped in front of an old landau when she heard the firm footsteps of someone slowly approaching her. As the footsteps drew near, she felt as if a cold knife was being driven vertically down her spine.

But she didn't turn around. She only glanced down to see if she could make out who was standing behind her. She could only make out a man's polished shoes, but she didn't look up to see his face. Shaken by the strong physical impression she had received and at the same time intrigued by who this individual could be who had caused such an inner commotion, she left the place and went out to the garden, sitting on the seat of an old small train that was still running at that time, on a short tour for tourists. She took out a book and began to read.

After a while, the stranger approached her and without saying anything, sat in the seat next to her, even though there were many other seats empty, since at that hour they were practically the only visitors to the museum.

Lula felt the same strong sensation run down her spine. But she didn't look up from her book, even though she was frankly annoyed by the stranger's lack of tact. By then, she had realized that he was a young man, extraordinarily tall and very well dressed.

After a few moments, the stranger broke the tense silence:

"Miss, where are you from?"

Lula was tempted to send him to hell, but she held back and said nothing. And again she heard the voice:

"Are you Spanish?"

A long silence. Lula was determined not to exchange a word with that impertinent stranger. But again her voice was heard slowly:

"No. You're not Spanish. Nor French... nor Italian." There was another silence.

"You're Venezuelan!"

Lula jumped like a spring at being thus discovered by someone she had never seen before and who, moreover, was finding him not only unsettling but even repulsive, so bold and inconsiderate. In a hostile manner, as if she didn't believe what he was telling her, she retorted:

"How do you know? And besides, who are you?"

"It doesn't matter who I am or how I know. The truth is that you are Venezuelan."

"Yes, I am, but I have no intention of speaking to you if you don't tell me who you are and, above all, how you came to know that I am Venezuelan."

The stranger—whom we will call Jorge in the future, although the name he used was not that—said his name, but remained secretive about his origins, defending himself with evasive answers to Lula's questions regarding many details of his life.

The conversation, which had started tense, ended relaxed and much more lively. When, after a good while, it was time to close the museum, they said goodbye politely on the sidewalk. After a few days, Lula returned to his homeland and, after a time, he had completely forgotten about the strange incident at the Carriage Museum.

Several years passed. Lula was hosting a reception at his large house in Caracas and was busy that afternoon attending to the details of the party when he heard that someone was calling on the phone. On the other end was an unfamiliar voice:

"Hello, Lula, do you remember me?"

"Not by voice."

"It's Jorge."

"Jorge? I know several Jorges, and besides, many people are coming to the party today, and I don't know if you're one of them, but I can't remember... Have we ever met?"

"Yes, we have, and we're old friends." Do you remember the visit to the Madrid Coach Museum? Lula instantly remembered the strange incident she had experienced in Madrid several years before, but preoccupied as she was with the night's party, it seemed like bad luck that that strange man had shown up again on that very day. An idea occurred to her:

"Why don't you come to the party tonight so that, besides seeing us, you'll have the chance to meet lots of interesting people? Because I imagine you won't have many friends here in Caracas." "Perfect. I'll be there on time."

When Lula hung up, she congratulated herself for having found such a quick and brilliant solution to the problem. Within five minutes, absorbed in preparing the canapés and other reception details, she had already forgotten about Jorge's call.

It was time for the party. Lula and her husband were welcoming the guests one by one as they arrived. She was greeting one of them at the door when behind her she felt a chilly wind that stabbed her like a dagger down her spine. Instantly she remembered her experience in Madrid. She turned quickly, and there was Jorge smiling at her.

The party ended without anything unusual, except for the extraordinary charm Jorge displayed over everyone attending it, and they said their goodbyes. At the door, he announced that his stay in Caracas wasn't temporary, but that he intended to stay and live there.

From that day on, he began pestering her to divorce the surly, old man she was married to. He constantly repeated, "Get out of that old building," referring partly to the large house she lived in, located in one of the best residential neighborhoods in the capital, and partly to her husband, who, as we said, was several years older than her.

At first, Lula didn't listen, but as the arguments and differences with her husband grew, she ended up getting divorced, later establishing a relationship with Jorge, which culminated in marriage a little over a year later.

Based on everything said so far, we have no right to suspect that Jorge was anything other than an ordinary human being and to equate him with the strange entities we are referring to in this book. But we know much more about him, told not only by Lula but also by his family and friends. And while it's true that none of them suspected he could be a "non-human," they were still very surprised by his strange qualities.

I've already told the reader how my opportunity to meet him personally was thwarted when he didn't want to accompany Lula to an evening at a friend's house, where I spoke about topics he probably knew much more about than I did. He wasn't a fan of frequenting gatherings or making new friends. But if he ever attended a gathering, he would almost certainly become the center of attention and the talk show host. He gave the impression that he knew everything, and not with superficial knowledge, but with the details worthy of a professional in the field.

There are many reasons why a scholar of these matters might have suspected that he was a "non-human," and Lula keeps them well in his memory, just as he told me in a long conversation that I have recorded on several tapes.

After her marriage to Jorge and in her close relationship with him, Lula began to discover things that amazed her every day. These strange qualities of her husband not only did not prevent her from being very close to him, but she confessed to me that she was completely in love.

"As a husband, he was perfect. He treated me with great affection and at the same time with great respect. Sometimes he looked at me as if I were a little girl, and in reality, I felt that way, seeing his great superiority in everything."

"With my two children (from my first marriage), he was an ideal father. I think he understood them better than I did. They loved him very much and at the same time respected him. He fully understood their needs and desires.

There came a time when, faced with so many extraordinary things Lula saw her husband do, she didn't know what to think." She never thought he was an "extraterrestrial"—a term that was very fashionable in Venezuela at the time—but on more than one occasion, she asked him, half-jokingly, half-seriously, where he was from or where he had come from. He always told her the same thing: he was a descendant of Italians who had come to South America in search of better opportunities. Indeed, he used an Italian surname that was quite common in Argentina. And when Lula became impertinent, urging him to tell her who his parents were and where he had acquired so much knowledge and so many abilities, he told her not to be so curious and, with a few jokes, got around it. But he never implied that he wasn't human. Rather, he tried to make people believe he was, and in a way, he tried to preempt any small doubts she might have about his actions that surpassed all human limits.

His life was normal in some ways, but in others, it was far from it. The source of his income was a book import-export company that had one storefront and a few employees. Jorge treated it as a secondary matter in his life and gave the impression that he cared little whether things were going well or badly, although he never lacked money or complained of financial difficulties.

His extraordinary qualities were both psychological and physical. Regarding the former, he used precognition as a matter of course. On many occasions, he foresaw and predicted what was going to happen and adhered to his behavior accordingly, not doing things he had previously done or doing something in advance that, due to predicted events, he would later be unable to do.

There are many facts he could recount. One day, as they were driving along the highway, Jorge suddenly began to urgently tell Lula, referring to a truck about two hundred meters ahead of them on a steep slope:

"Look at that truck! Look closely!"

Lula stared at the truck. Several long moments passed, and seeing nothing unusual, she asked, intrigued:

"I can't see anything. What's going on?"

"Look! It's going to crash!"

A few more moments passed until, suddenly, a car pulled off the side of the road and the truck, despite braking sharply, slammed into the road, then overturned. It was a serious accident, and had Jorge continued at the speed he was traveling, he would have been involved, as he would have been overtaking it at that moment. How did he know the truck was going to crash without any sign that the other vehicle was coming from the side?

Lula can recount countless incidents like this.

Sometimes, when we were traveling at high speed on the highway, he would stop abruptly, and when I, frightened, asked him what was happening, he would calmly reply: "Something was going to break." He would get out; lift the hood, fix it quickly, and we would continue our journey. His driving style would have been suicidal for a normal human being. He was more like flying than racing. At first, Lula was reluctant to ride with him because of the panic he felt, fearing that at any moment they would crash. She begged him to slow down. He obeyed for a while, and in part, always saying not to be afraid, that nothing would happen. But after a while, the car was hurtling again, at nearly 200 km/h, on bad roads. This was so normal that Lula became accustomed to it, especially after repeatedly witnessing how he knew how to navigate the most difficult situations and always emerge unscathed where other drivers would have perished. It seemed as if the distances were shortened, and Lula assured me that on several occasions they made the trip from Caracas to Barquisimeto in three hours, something completely impossible for a normal driver. She was also amazed at how a car with such low power—a Valliant—was capable of reaching such tremendous speeds for such a long time.

As for his physical qualities, he gave the impression of having been raised in the water and belonging to that element.

"When we went to the beach, it was a spectacle to watch him swim." On the roughest days, when no one dared to enter the water because of the strong undertow and the violence of the waves, Jorge would calmly go into the sea, disappearing beneath the large waves and reappearing in a sea of foam ever further from the shore.

"At first, I was very scared, but given his confidence and seeing that he always came back without any problems, I ended up giving up on him going in and out of the water. On one occasion, when one of the lifeguards saw him off the beach at a hotel entering a very rough sea and going into the water, he ran to me, knowing that I was his wife, and told me that this was crazy and that I should signal him to come back immediately because he was in great danger. I calmed him down and told him not to worry because my husband was a real fish, and I had done the same thing on many other occasions. He couldn't believe it and walked away, protesting that he wouldn't be held responsible if anything happened.

"Sometimes it took him hours to return, and I couldn't see him anywhere, even when I looked for him with binoculars. Sometimes I saw him more than a kilometer out to sea, returning to the beach, swimming at a good speed, in places where sharks abound. I usually took my bath and then sat down quietly to read, for which I was well prepared because I knew my wait could be long.

"When he arrived, he would come up to me, caress me, and ask me affectionately how I had done, and then the second part of the spectacle would begin, even more extraordinary than the first and at least much more visible. Often, people who had realized that this man had braved the fury of the waves for more than two hours on days when no one went to the beach would come closer to see him up close, but they were even more astonished when they saw him routinely practicing his exercise that we could call "post-swimming."

"He would say to me: 'Lulita, I'm going to warm up a little.' And he would begin to run the length of the beach. At first, he would start by trotting with long strides, but gradually his speed would increase until it was comparable to that of a racehorse at full gallop. People, from the seawall and from the road that ran parallel to the beach, were amazed by "that thing" they saw zoom by, covering the two or three kilometers of beach in less than two minutes. Upon reaching the rocks at the far end, without stopping at all, it would turn back and do the same route at the same speed. It crossed the beach several times in both directions, and it was so striking that cars would stop to watch it, and people would get out and approach the sand to see up close the person running at such speed. Anything I can tell you on this matter is less than true.

Lula continues to tell the tale, and although several years have passed and Jorge is no longer in this world, you can still see his enthusiasm when he recalls the exploits of the one who was his perfect companion.

"And note that this was done by a man who had just been swimming nonstop for two hours or more in cold ocean water, and it was done by someone who didn't have lungs!"

Lula's statement made me raise my eyebrows. She, noticing my surprise, told me she would explain a little later how she knew such a strange detail about his anatomy.

I was surprised when she told me she had a photo of Jorge. As I've already said, these individuals from other dimensions don't like being photographed and manage to prevent anyone from doing so, and if they do, to prevent the photos from appearing. Although the truth is that having just one photograph of such a beloved husband is rather strange, when the logical thing to do is to have several dozen of them in all positions and from different periods.

But it seems Jorge made an exception and believed it was enough to leave one for his wife. In many other cases where there has been a strong bond between a "non-human" and a human, the former, despite the friendship, has refused to leave or allow any photos for his friend.

Naturally, I asked him to let me see it. Jorge appears in it seated, with his long legs crossed, not completely facing forward, but turned sideways, so that his eyes are not visible. Once again, it seems that he didn't want the camera to focus on him head-on and capture his eyes. Otherwise, his features are unremarkable. You'd think he might have some Indian blood, given the tone of his skin and his black hair. Lula, quite rightly, treasures his only photo.

The reader will be intrigued to know what ended Jorge's union with Lula, since we have said in the previous lines that Jorge was no longer in this world.

Shortly after their marriage, Jorge began to complain about the severe air pollution he breathed. He said it was seriously damaging his health. Lula suggested they buy a house on the outskirts of the city, where the air was much purer. Jorge, incomprehensibly to Lula, replied: "It's not the city air itself that's hurting me. It's the atmosphere." Lula didn't understand the distinction at the time. Because of this "atmospheric pollution," Jorge sometimes felt very ill. He would become cyanotic and lie in bed at full length, remaining completely motionless for a long time. Then he would grab a small bottle he always carried with him, uncork it, and hold it to his nose, remaining there for a few moments. When he removed the bottle and recapped it, he would sit up in bed, as if he had come back to life; he spoke completely normally, and no one would have guessed that a minute earlier he had shown signs of dying.

Before going any further, let's say that this mysterious little bottle served on more than one occasion to test her husband's clairvoyance. He had told her very kindly that if she ever saw the bottle anywhere (which was highly unlikely because Jorge always carried it with him), she should not be tempted to open it, much less smell it. And this without exception. He made her promise, and Lula had promised it wholeheartedly, and she kept her promise on the very few occasions she had the opportunity to break her word.

But since we humans are what we are, and as the saying goes, "temptation makes a thief," one time Jorge was lying in bed in his room. Lula entered the bathroom and saw the intriguing, tiny bottle on the sink. Although she was determined to keep the promise she had made to her husband, she couldn't help but wonder what mysterious substance could be in such a small bottle that was capable of performing the miracles she had witnessed so many times. She took it in her hands and was observing it closely when she heard Jorge's voice say:

"Lulita, what are you thinking? Bring me the bottle and stop thinking about things."

Jorge's breathing difficulties became increasingly frequent and severe. He never followed Lula's suggestions that he see a specialist and never missed a doctor's visit. He was somewhat allergic to doctors, and at home he was the one who treated the children's minor ailments and his own, except for those related to breathing. His condition wasn't exactly asthma or anything like that; he always complained about the same thing: the air in the atmosphere was bad for him, even though it wasn't contaminated by fumes and gases.

One day, after several attacks from which he emerged in the usual way, he fell into a kind of coma from which it seemed he would never emerge, as time passed and he didn't regain consciousness or show any signs of life, as he had done so many times. At this point, Lula called an ambulance, and they took him to a clinic for the first time. There, given the symptoms Lula explained to the doctors, they performed a lung X-ray. When the doctor saw it, he rebuked the X-ray technician and told him to pay more attention to what he was doing, because the film was poorly taken and useless. The technician defended himself and said that he had taken it with the utmost care and that this was what it showed. When he took the second film, the technician himself was surprised to see that the film was completely abnormal. He took another and another until the doctor himself was convinced that the subject had no lungs. The only thing visible in the lower corner of the film was a strange tissue that had nothing to do with human lungs. Several doctors, extremely surprised by what they were seeing for the first time in their lives, carefully examined the films and, with complete certainty, decided to attend the man's autopsy if he died, to see how he had been able to oxygenate his blood despite lacking lungs. But the individual was still alive.

In the hospital room, Lula never left his side, sometimes assisted by his mother and a private nurse. Once admitted, he never regained consciousness. His breathing became more labored, until, in the presence of one of the doctors attending him, he stopped breathing. The doctor, already intrigued by what he had seen on the X-ray, took all his vital signs and was absolutely certain that the patient had indeed died.

Lula, following instructions Jorge had given him, did not allow an autopsy to be performed, leaving the doctors with the desire to see firsthand the extremely strange anomaly they had detected on the X-rays.

Shortly before the outcome, the bed had been moved about two-quarters away from the wall so that Lula could stand at the head of the bed without disturbing the doctor and nurse who were caring for him from the other side.

When Jorge, according to the doctor, had expired, Lula hung around his neck and remained there for a long time. Having accepted the trance and recovered from her initial emotion, she sat up, ready to leave the narrow corridor where she was against the wall and move to the other side. When she tried to get out through the back of the bed, which was about twenty centimeters from the wall, she became entangled in the sheets and bedspreads, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't untangle the tight knot they had formed. When she tried to move them aside, she found that what was preventing her from getting out was not the tangled bedspreads and sheets, but her husband's feet, which reached the wall. She looked at his head, and it was hitting the headboard. Jorge had grown twenty centimeters since his death in five or seven minutes! The corpse was well over two meters tall. The doctors once again had the opportunity to see that when it comes to anatomy and health, not everything is covered in their textbooks.

As for the mysterious little bottle we mentioned in the previous lines, something very strange happened to it. Jorge was now dead, but the bottle was, as usual, on the nightstand within reach. Well, at one point, without anyone touching it, as if obeying an order, it slowly began to rise, in full view of everyone present (who later had no difficulty testifying to this), and once in the air, at a height of about two meters, it opened itself, and everyone saw a kind of vapor emerge from inside and dissipate into the air. Then, obeying the law of gravity, it violently fell vertically to the ground, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. When those present bent down to see what remained of the small bottle, even though they knelt down to search for the fragments, they were unable to find a single one.

As Lula tells it, if we were to recall strange anecdotes from Jorge's life, we'd be endless, because on a thousand occasions, he would surprise those present by quite naturally doing things that clearly exceeded human capabilities. Often, out of politeness or lack of trust, people would pretend not to notice. But Lula could see on countless occasions how those present, without saying anything, would put on faces of astonishment when Jorge guessed their thoughts or did in their eyes, as if it were normal, something that was clearly impossible.

Months before his death in the clinic, Jorge had begun to tell Lula that he "would be gone soon." He never spoke of dying, and when Lula, distressed by his cabalistic phrase "going soon," asked him what he meant by that, he always answered by repeating the same phrase and evasively. In his final days, when he was already feeling very ill due to his problems "with the air"—as he called it—he had hired a nurse who also treated him in the hospital. He had given this same nurse precise instructions "for when he left." The first of all was to send her to buy some wide, long bandages similar to those we see on the mummies of the pharaohs. In addition to this, he had instructed his wife very carefully what she was to do with his body when the time came to leave. He told her to cross his arms folded over his chest and to place seven silver coins in each closed hand. In this position, they had to wrap him in the long bandages he had ordered from the nurse and which were already in Lula's possession at the time of his death. This was how they shrouded him, the whole body wrapped in the bandages, just as we see on the mummies of the pharaohs.

Between this and the exaggerated length of the coffin, its appearance when it was lying in the funeral home was, according to those who visited it, truly impressive.

All these events happened eight years ago, and Lula told me that he wanted to exhume Jorge's remains once the legally required time had passed. But, more specifically, Lula believes it won't be a normal exhumation because he is certain, apparently based on something Jorge told him, that when the coffin is opened, absolutely nothing will be found inside.

Just over a year ago, the author had an appointment with Lula to attend the exhumation of Jorge's remains, but Lula didn't show up. And this is the sinister, or at least incomprehensible, aspect that so often accompanies or culminates the relationships between the "gods" and mortals. Lula has disappeared, or at least has been lost from the sight of all those who have known her for a long time.

Accompanied by two friends who have known her for many years and who also knew Jorge, I spent an entire afternoon trying to find her in Caracas. We tried to contact her mother and old friends but couldn't get any leads. No one knows where she's gone, although, given her way of acting, it wouldn't be surprising if she were on some strange adventure in Egypt or the Middle East, in which she experienced phenomena as strange and inexplicable as those that had happened to her on a previous one.

The reason for this trip may have been some "apparition" of Jorge telling her to drop everything and go where he told her to, just as happened when we last saw each other in Madrid, back in 1983.

According to Lula, some time before we met, one night she woke up as if someone was calling her, and when she opened her eyes she saw Jorge's face next to her. Internally, he felt that Jorge was speaking to him, telling him to leave Madrid and return to his homeland, as he had an important mission to accomplish there. As soon as he perceived these words, the vision vanished. Jorge's order was not easy to follow, since at that time Lula was living with his children in Madrid, where he had a very good, well-paid job, and in Caracas, he had nothing secure and it would be very difficult for him to find a job as good as the one he had in Madrid. However, faced with such an explicit order, given in such a "supernatural" way, he didn't hesitate; he quit his job, upcycled the nice apartment he had in an elegant neighborhood of Madrid, near the Bernabeu stadium, and went to live in Caracas.

And this was where Lula's troubles began. From the moment he arrived, things began to go wrong for him. First, he couldn't find any job comparable to the one he had in the Spanish capital, and in fact, he didn't find any worthwhile one, so he began to experience financial difficulties, which he had been free from until then.

He also had health problems, and what was worse, he had some serious family problems involving one of his sons, which caused him great anguish and problems, even with the law, so he had to spend quite a bit of money.

As a result of all these tribulations, and I believe that in part because Jorge's abandonment couldn't be explained, since the mission he had spoken about was nowhere to be seen, Lula disappeared from the scene, and the exhumation of Jorge's body couldn't be carried out. However, I don't despair of being able to attend it one day and see for myself that there is nothing there, just as Lula assures us will happen.

One explanation for such an unexpected outcome could be this: the Jorge who appeared in the apparition was not the same person who had lived with Lula; it was a meddling entity that played on Lula's credulity and feelings.

Lula, in my opinion, was too naive in the face of such an irrational and illogical request as leaving Madrid when she was so well-off with her children. When she told me of her desire to uproot her house and leave for Venezuela without having anything permanent there and with the social and economic conditions in that country deteriorating sharply, my reaction was negative. I thought that in her case, I wouldn't do it without first making sure I wasn't taking a leap of faith, as in fact happened.

"Don't completely surrender your mind to anyone," as I advise in "Let's Defend Ourselves from the Gods," is something that all contactees should always keep in mind, but unfortunately, they don't, because their minds are usually completely controlled. Lula was completely determined and sure of what she was going to do, and she also felt that if she didn't do it, she would be, in a way, being unfaithful to Jorge. That's why I preferred not to interfere or cast doubt on what she was determined to do, respecting her mistaken decision. Besides, I had no idea how things would turn out. However, the fact that Jorge told her that "he had a mission to fulfill in Caracas" put me quite on guard.

Whenever I hear a contactee say that they have been told that "he has a mission to fulfill," I suspect there's a trap and that those communicating with them are not to be trusted. It seems that some of these entities have a compulsion to speak to their chosen ones about "missions to fulfill" or that "they are necessary." And it could also be that these messages are simply a technique to, supported by human psychology, gain greater control over their minds.

I think we can't stress enough all kinds of mystics, contactees, and psychics, who must always be very on guard against the interference of these "mocking entities" — let's remember the activities of the jinn — who know how to camouflage themselves very well in place of others and give the impression of being the originals.

The reader will be wondering to what extent all these things are credible. But on the other hand, I imagine that if you've read this far in this book, you must already be cured of fear and have a mind more willing to accept such facts than if it were the first time you'd heard such unusual things. Throughout the book, you will have seen that things happen in the world, both small and large, that are far from ordinary.

Regarding the events described in this chapter, while it is true that Lula is the main source of information, the fact that Jorge lived with well-known people and in a specific location means that we are not dealing with conjectures or abstract ideas but with concrete events.

Furthermore, to support some of these facts, and specifically the sudden growth of Jorge's body and what happened to the famous small bottle at the time of his death, there are testimonies from the nurse who treated him, Lula's mother, and one of the doctors who was present when the incident occurred. I was unable to witness any of these extraordinary events firsthand, and I have to make do with the accounts of these people, and especially those of Lula, whom I know well enough to be able to assure you that she is a serious woman with no desire for prominence. Obviously, she gains nothing from what she has told me and instead exposes herself to being the target of indiscreet commentators and investigators. Therefore, she begged me not to give her full name or give too many specific clues so as not to be easily located. Unfortunately, today this has become a reality, and Lula is untraceable, even for those of us who are her friends. I hope it is only temporary and that I will soon be able to attend the exhumation of her husband's body with her, to witness his empty grave firsthand.

 

[Sindy-S.R]

Once this thread is finished, and if I have the opportunity next week, I will create a thread with some details about a “suspicion” I have had for more than 10 years, about an INDIRECT relationship between Laura's work and the Cassiopaeans and the interest of some underground groups in her research and dissemination work.
Could these underground groups be STO-oriented?
I cannot confirm or know this.

 

[Sindy-S.R]

In this chapter, the presence of the Ummo event is described.
In the channelings with the Cass family, we find this:

July 29, 2006:

Q: (J) What was the source of the Ummite business?

A: 3D program experiment.

This other story described by Frexeido could give us an idea of a possible intervention by the undergrounders.

JOSÉ LUIS​

It was 1976. I had finished speaking in a large public hall in Mexico City, and when, sweating, I entered the small room next to the stage from which I had spoken, I found José Luis waiting for me. I had never seen him in my life. He greeted me timidly and told me he wanted to tell me something that had been happening to him for years.

José Luis was about 20 years old, tall, with an intelligent face, so he inspired confidence in me, and I didn't even for a moment suspect that I might be standing before one of the many lunatics who all too often come to tell us about their hallucinatory "communications" with "extraterrestrials." We began talking right there, and that was the beginning of a sincere friendship that has lasted to this day.

Here, in summary, is what José Luis told me then.

When he was about 10 years old, one day a blond boy appeared at the public school where he attended. He was roughly the same height as José Luis at the time—today, José Luis is approximately 1.85 m tall—with very smooth skin that made his age very difficult to guess.

The boy, who was not a student at that school, became friends with a group of José Luis's classmates. Whenever he appeared, he would enthuse them all with his stories about space travel, new inventions, and many other topics in which the strange stranger was far more advanced than his younger friends.

Although he became very close to a few of them, he became particularly close to José Luis, whom he frequented most often, not only at school but also at home, talking to him about a wide variety of topics and instructing him about things that would happen to him in the future.

After a while, he made a sort of pact with all his friends, including José Luis. The sign of the pact was a kind of light tattoo he gave them all on the inside of their wrists, roughly in the shape of a capital H.

In other words, the tattoo that can still be seen on José Luis's wrist bears a considerable resemblance to the famous UMMO sign, which we told the reader about in previous pages. We will return to it later when other connections arise with the UMMO case.

The mysterious visitor—whom we will henceforth call the blond man, since José Luis has never told me if he has a proper name—took to visiting him at his own house, always doing so on a fixed date, which was precisely his birthday, which fell in April.

When that date arrived, the blond man invariably appeared and greeted all the family members, who already treated him as an acquaintance. They appreciated him for his gentle manner, for his knowledge, and especially José Luis's mother for the good advice he gave her son.

The regular visit on his birthday continued without interruption, and each time the bond with his mysterious friend, who never said exactly where he came from or what his usual activities were, grew ever closer. When asked about this, he answered vaguely, implying that he preferred not to be questioned.

On the other hand, he never stated that he came from another planet or that he was different from other human beings. Since neither José Luis nor anyone in his family had previously paid the slightest attention to the UFO phenomenon, it didn't occur to them to suspect that the blond man could be one of those "extraterrestrials" who at that time appeared from time to time in the pages of certain magazines and newspapers.

What caught their attention was the fact that the blond man didn't seem to grow or age in any way. He always remained the same, just as they had seen him the first time. It was only several years after this relationship that José Luis began to suspect that something very strange was going on with his friend, and, taking advantage of the fact that I was talking about these matters, he went there to tell me what was happening to him.

One of the circumstances that made me suspect that the blond man could be an "extraterrestrial" visitor of some kind or a genuine Jinn, was what José Luis told me about his marriage. Needless to say, he was unaware of many, if not all, of the intricacies and implications of the UFO phenomenon, and when he told me anecdotes that had happened to him with the blond man, he didn't do so by selecting those that were similar to others he had read in UFO books, because in reality he hadn't read any and knew nothing about the subject. Rather, he did so with a certain timidity, lest what he told me might seem trivial or crazy. I was the one who, faced with details like the one I will tell you soon, was startled by recognizing the similarity it had with other cases that had previously been studied by me and by other researchers of the phenomenon.

The thing was, one day when José Luis was feeling especially depressed, the blond man said to him: "You're sad, and I know why."

José Luis tried to deny that he was especially sad, or at least to downplay the fact, but the blond man insisted:

"You're in love with a young woman, and she doesn't love you back because she's already married. It depresses you to see the resolution of your desires as impossible."

He thought for a moment and then added:

"Don't worry. In a year, when I visit you again, you will not only be married to that young woman, but you will also have a child with her, even though that may seem impossible to you now." José Luis was completely unaware of the great fondness some of these entities have for interfering in the family and love affairs of humans. But the reality was that, indeed, a year after those words, when the blond man returned in April, José Luis was already married to the young woman, and she had just given birth to a son.

And here it's appropriate to pause to explain the expeditious methods with which some of these mysterious entities tend to get rid of humans who in any way hinder their plans. They tend to be tremendously drastic in their measures, regardless of whether they are unjust or violent, according to our way of seeing things.

What does tend to happen is that they make things appear completely natural. And when ordinary and logical means aren't enough, or when time is short, they have no problem resorting to much more expeditious methods, no matter how violent they may be. Car accidents, heart attacks, or even unexpected meteors—although always "natural"—are quite common.

I don't know how José Luis's current wife's first husband left; what is certain is that in a very short time, he disappeared from the scene, leaving the field clear for my friend to fulfill his wishes. As I said before, this detail alone made me suspect that I was dealing with a genuine case, and I suggested to José Luis that he do two things that might help us determine whether we were right. The first thing I suggested was that he should have a dog at home on the date his friend usually came to visit.

It's well known that domestic animals, and particularly dogs, cats, and horses, are especially sensitive to the presence of these entities, which they are able to detect before humans do, and often when they are invisible to the human eye. (Which, incidentally, is compelling evidence often used in parapsychology to demonstrate that certain phenomena that short-sighted scientists attribute to hallucinations are authentic and real, even if we don't know how to explain exactly what they are. Animals don't crave notoriety or money, nor do they suffer hallucinations as easily as humans.) Well, at my suggestion, José Luis sadly told me that that same year, a few weeks before the date his friend was supposed to arrive, he had been given a puppy and that he was very excited to show it to the blond boy when he showed up. But unfortunately, the little dog disappeared from home on the eve of his birthday, and no matter how hard they searched for him in the neighborhood, they couldn't find him. José Luis thought that, due to some carelessness, the dog, who was still a puppy, had found the door open and rushed out into the street with the ardor and inexperience that puppies do, only to be unable to return home or be killed by a car.

This detail of the dog's disappearance so close to the arrival of the blond boy seemed quite suspicious to me, but for the moment I kept my suspicions to myself.

The other test I suggested to José Luis was to try to take a photograph of him. His response was instant: "He's not a fan of photos. But in one we took with the whole family, in which I put my arm over his shoulder, everyone looks great except him, who looks blurry." It was a shame because it's the only photo we have of him."

This response from José Luis finally dispelled my suspicions that I was dealing with a genuine case of a "non-human entity" that deserved to be thoroughly investigated, given its lack of elusiveness and the transparency of its manifestations. Because, as we have already seen, another of the normal characteristics among these entities from the "beyond" is that they are quite allergic to photography; either because they don't like being photographed or because the radiation they emit obscures the film and prevents them from being captured by the camera. The fact is that after many years of contact and friendship, José Luis does not have a single photo of his friend.

With this information from the photo, my doubts turned into certainty, even before learning many other details that I later learned, and I openly told José Luis my suspicions about his dog's disappearance.

"I think he was the one who made it disappear," I told him.

Faced with his disbelief and surprise, I explained the great sensitivity that animals have in detecting these non-human entities. The dog would most likely have howled or fled in terror at the presence of his friend, which would have been compromising for him, since the dog would by no means have been calm in his presence. Their instinct tells them that they are facing something that "is not of this world," and they most likely pick it up thanks to their intense sensory hypersensitivity, which is far greater than that of humans. The truth is, they are terrified. I could write entire pages about this particular matter, since the behavior of animals in the face of paranormal entities and phenomena is something that has always interested me greatly.

The curious thing is that José Luis, when the time came, shared my suspicions with his friend, and he agreed, agreeing with me. He had made the dog disappear for the same reason I had stated: it would have been a constant nuisance during his visit. And, by the way, let the reader note what we said in previous paragraphs regarding the expeditious ways these individuals have of getting rid of everything that hinders their plans.

In subsequent years, on all my visits to Mexico City, one of the first things I would do was call José Luis to hear his secrets about his relationship with the blond man, who has continued to religiously appear every birthday of my friend's. There were some years when his visits were more extended, extending beyond the month of April, until one day he told him he had to leave and that they wouldn't see each other again for a long time.

By then, José Luis's life had changed considerably, always in accordance with what the blond man had predicted. To earn a living, he had worked at various jobs until he entered the world of unionism, where he eventually held a position of responsibility. The blond man told him that this would bring him problems with the authorities, but that he shouldn't be afraid and that he should continue until he finished what they had set out to do, because in the long run, everything would be resolved, as it was. In fact, José Luis was imprisoned for a company's dispute with his union, but was soon released without consequences. Then his mysterious advisor told him to leave that job, as there was no future for him there, and to be alert to the opportunities that would present themselves.

Indeed, soon after, he was offered, in a rather strange way, the opportunity to join a modern company that dealt with computers and information technology. Naturally, since he didn't have much professional training, let alone a university specialization in the company's tasks, he had to be content with a rather humble position. And here is where we can once again see the "efficiency" of a jina when he insists on favoring his human friend. Today, José Luis is the supreme boss—after only a few years of working there—of a large computer company.

It's not that he tells me this and I just believe it; it's that I've been with him in the company building, I've seen his large office comparable to that of a bank president, I've witnessed the solemn silences and the somewhat fawning bows that the employees throughout the building give him as he passes by, just as we see in large companies when the supreme boss passes by.

And not only that. The car in which José Luis took me the last time to see his company bears no resemblance to the modest Volkswagen he drove years ago.

Climbing the ranks so quickly in a company where there were many people before him interested in achieving the same thing, but with higher qualifications, is no easy task. However, he didn't have to do great things. His friend from "the beyond" took it upon himself to pave the way for him... and how!

Everyone in the company who could have been competitors for the top position, and especially those who positively hindered José Luis's rise, gradually and "naturally" disappeared—rapid cancers included—until the position fell into his hands like a ripe pear, completely logical and normal, as there was no one more qualified than him for the job.

This "naturalness" has occurred hundreds, if not thousands, of times in history. The gods play with their human puppets with great mastery and place their protégés in key positions, or those they judge will best support their interests or fulfill their mandates. Sometimes they take the work and time to prepare the circumstances so that everything seems logical, but other times, forced by unforeseen events, they prefer efficiency even if their voices are a little obvious.

In José Luis's case, his friend the blond probably didn't put him in the position because he hoped he could do great things, but simply out of pure friendship, to help him, since, as we've seen, when one of these extrahuman entities becomes infatuated with a human, it's capable of doing anything for them.

José Luis has told me many details of his dealings with the blond over the years. Some are purely anecdotal, serving to satisfy the natural curiosity of humans in the face of all these events that reveal a "beyond" that, although disturbing and unsettling, is always enormously interesting to us. However, others, although apparently as innocuous as the purely anecdotal, contain profound lessons that lead us to make revealing deductions.

Because while it is true that the human mind is at a disadvantage compared to these extrahuman intelligences, that does not mean we should undervalue it and fall into the error of thinking that we cannot advance in our understanding of them and other levels of existence.

One of the things that has always made us reflect the most regarding the messages from supposed "extraterrestrials," or more accurately, from these non-human intelligent entities (without necessarily being extraterrestrials), is their lack of credibility; or, in other words, their propensity to affirm things that, judged by human logic and reason, sound like blatant lies.

Although in my book "Let Us Defend Ourselves from the Gods," I attempted to provide a radical solution to this great enigma, in the following chapter, I will reinforce those explanations with arguments from other sources and researched by highly qualified people completely free from any "prejudices" I may have about this whole topic.

The fact is that these same shocking facets appear in the blond man's dealings and conversations with José Luis. While on the one hand they confirm that one is witnessing a genuine paranormal event encompassed within the great "UFO phenomenon," on the other hand they fill one with suspicion that the reality of the events, like the veracity of the words, are not what they appear to be. Consequently, the mind should be very cautious when trying to comprehensively judge the entire phenomenon, without jumping too quickly to definitive conclusions, much less changing lifestyle habits or adopting patterns of behavior based on the revelations or teachings of these mysterious entities.

The blond man is very selective about the people he associates with; he doesn't even let himself be seen with some, as if their presence bothered him. On the other hand, he has no problem letting himself be seen and even conversing with others, even if he doesn't become as close as he is with José Luis. While he was single, he was seen by the entire family; however, once married, as far as I know, he has never been seen by his wife. However, he has been seen by his son.

One day, José Luis was standing at the door of his house with him, when he was still very young, and the blond man appeared on the corner, walking calmly toward them along the sidewalk. They greeted each other affectionately, as they always do, and the blond man stared fixedly for a while at the boy, who seemed nervous in the presence of this stranger he had never seen before. After a while, and as the boy persisted in his unease and expressed a desire to go inside, the blond man told him to take him and then come back so they could talk calmly.

Children's sensitivity to certain types of energies is much greater than that of adults and is very similar to that of animals.

If the reader recalls, we had already encountered this same selectivity in "Zequiel," the blond man who introduced himself to Dr. Torralba and who bears so many similarities to José Luis's friend.

Another day, a neighbor of his said to him:

"Yesterday I came over to your house to talk to you about a certain matter, and since I saw you on the sidewalk deep in conversation "with a blond boy," I decided not to interrupt you and leave it for another day." The "blond boy" was none other than our mysterious character, who had been talking with José Luis on the sidewalk outside his house the day before.

As for mixing information of very unequal value, both in terms of credibility and content, the Rubio is no different from other cases the author is very familiar with.

These same pages reproduce the plans drawn by the Rubio, in which he predicted something that later came to complete fruition, and which the Mexican reader will be able to verify for themselves. (See illustrations 14 and 15.)

Note that the plan was drawn before the major excavations and restoration work that have been carried out in recent years began on a corner of the great Zócalo square in Mexico City.

As for the part of the city marked with a cross, where the blond man says there are even larger buried ruins, according to reports that have come to my attention, during the excavations for the construction of new subway lines, they have stumbled upon significant ruins in that area, which have partially altered the original plans. Although I must confess that I have not been able to verify this detail with qualified individuals.

However, it must be acknowledged that the tremendous accuracy he had, where apparently nothing but asphalt and houses could be seen, gives us reason to suspect that he may also be right in his other great prediction.

Another disturbing aspect in which the blond man coincides with other extrahuman entities is his prediction of major catastrophes for the planet. José Luis didn't want to be very explicit with me on this, because apparently he has been advised to do so; but in a general way, he told me that the blond man has clearly indicated to him that very bad times are coming.

This is a constant that also occurs in almost all seers and prophets. A constant that doesn't worry me personally, because I've been reading and hearing it for many years, both from religious prophets and psychic seers who don't speak in the name of any God. And generations continue to succeed one another like crops of grass, and this sinful world, although it certainly spins with fits and starts, continues to spin in space.

The great catastrophe of this planet is not a cosmic cataclysm; our great catastrophe is the stupid and deranged leaders we suffer, inflated by power; and the fanatical doctrinaires who continue to poison consciences and fill hearts with suspicion or hatred with their dogmas and foolish patriotism.

Sometimes I think that these cataclysmic prophecies, by dint of being repeated generation after generation by prophets and seers of all kinds, have managed to sow a deep and unconscious anguish in the souls of humans. This anguish seems to be useful to someone or some cause that goes completely unnoticed by our minds.

I don't believe in the immediate punishments from God that sick religious seers tell us about. The Apocalypse has already had two thousand years to make good on its cataclysmic prophecies; and if it hasn't done so in all this time, I don't think it will do so in our days either.

But the strange thing is that the blond man also speaks of impending catastrophes, which is highly suspicious and leads us to the conclusion that José Luis should not fall into the temptation of surrendering his mind completely to all of his friend's suggestions and teachings, instead keeping it alert to notice when the mysterious confidant's messages exceed his capacity for understanding or obey other logical norms different from our own, or are simply harmful to his own interests.

This is an axiom that all contactees should always keep in mind, but unfortunately, they don't, because it is impossible for them to doubt the goodwill of their cosmic interlocutors. Those of us who are outside this bewitchment or fascination, and who also know a large number of contactees who have learned the final results of their strange experiences, can give a more accurate assessment of the entire phenomenon.

And to anyone who asks how it is possible that such highly evolved beings fail to realize that certain teachings or suggestions can ultimately be harmful to their human friends, or that, once they realize this, they don't care that they are, we will repeat that the "moral laws" of one cosmic level do not apply to another. We humans end up unscrupulously eating the cow that plowed our fields and gave us calves and milk for years. The "good" or "evil" of the contactee is of no importance, as harsh as this may seem, when compared to the mission that the "god" or visitor from other dimensions has assigned in our world. We are only their slaves; rational or semi-rational slaves, but slaves nonetheless.

This doesn't mean that all of them ignore or are completely disinterested in what can cause human suffering, much less that they are determined to seek harm. After much reflection on this and learning about many different cases, we have come to the conclusion that some of them positively seek humankind's good. Although most give the impression of helping humankind only to the extent that humankind obeys their orders and facilitates the fulfillment of their plans. And this is not to mention others—to whom we have already referred—who enjoy playing with humankind, subjecting them to all sorts of deceptions and even cold-heartedly sacrificing them.

But let's return to the blond man. Another aspect that strikes me as suspicious is his claim to identify himself with the visitors of UMMO. If everything related to this matter is already complicated and suspicious enough, the blond man's claim that he is one of them becomes even more suspicious. Why? Because many of the circumstances that occur in his expressions don't entirely agree with what we know about the Ummite visitors.

Aside from his height—those from UMMO are rather tall, while he is the height of a child of about 10—there are many other details that don't add up.

One thing that really caught my attention was that when I gave José Luis the three volumes into which someone had organized all the documentation received from the Ummites, the blond man was quick to tell him not to read it for the moment and to wait to read it when he told him to. I don't know at this time if José Luis has already received permission to read them.

I wonder why this prohibition? What one deduces is that José Luis would immediately detect the discrepancies between UMMO's reports and those he received from his friend and discover that, for one reason or another, he hadn't told him the truth. And this could fundamentally undermine his credibility and even the good relations they had had until then. I understand that I may be wrong in my deductions, but one has the right to wonder and suspect. Sometimes, the circumstances surrounding the communications of contactees with their visitors from beyond have the air of a detective novel.

I will tell the reader one of these "circumstances," which, apart from its bizarre touches, contains, in my view, a strategy or a cunning of these beings that is a real challenge for human intelligence.

By learning about and analyzing cases of the "UFO phenomenon," I have come to the conclusion that these strange visitors or these intelligences—whoever they are and wherever they come from—are far from being all-powerful and perfect. In the short term, human beings are at a disadvantage compared to them; and if, troubled by our inferiority, we stop fully utilizing our minds, we will not evolve, and in the long run, we will continue to be manipulated by them forever. That is why it is absolutely necessary for humans to lose their fear of them and begin to see their weaknesses and use them to our advantage.

The fact is that on one occasion, José Luis felt the need to retreat to a quiet place for several days, in order to prepare a plan necessary for his company, while at the same time taking a break from the stifling daily grind. He made a reservation at a very private little hotel in the city of Cuernavaca and headed there alone to spend the weekend.

Upon arriving at the hotel, which at that time of year was practically empty of guests, he checked in, arranged his things in his room, and went down to take a dip in the pool.

Without paying attention to whether anyone was there or not—it was dusk—he dove into the water, moving beneath the surface until he bumped into the wall. There he poked his head out, and to his surprise, he found a young man with black hair sitting barefoot on a chair, resting his feet on the edge of the pool. One thing immediately caught José Luis's attention: the man's feet were a markedly yellowish color.

Almost forced by circumstances, he greeted him with a cliché, and since they were practically the only guests in the hotel, they agreed to meet later at the bar.

Sure enough, an hour later, there was that strange guest waiting for him at the bar. José Luis asked him what he wanted, and he replied only water. José Luis ordered a cocktail with ice. When the drinks were brought, the waiter mistakenly placed the iced cocktail in front of José Luis's friend and the glass of water in front of him.

To correct the mistake, the stranger quickly extended his hand toward the cocktail, intending to bring it to José Luis, but as soon as he touched the glass, fogged by the cold, he made a gesture of pain, withdrawing his hand immediately.

José Luis noticed his gesture with surprise and felt even more intrigued to notice that the individual kept rubbing his hand against his thigh during the long conversation they had, as if he wanted to warm it after the chill he had felt upon picking up the ice-cold glass.

These are the two details that have made me reflect deeply, because I think that in them and in others like them—more than in what these visitors say—lies the key to their true identity and intentions toward us, viewed from our human perspective.

Why do I say this? For the following reason: José Luis was almost completely unaware of everything related to the UMMO affair. The strange individual with whom he befriended in the lonely hotel turned out to be, according to his own admission, an envoy of the blond man, who, due to various circumstances, had been unable to visit him personally on that occasion.

In the long conversation they had that night in the bar after the cocktail incident, the solitary guest told José Luis many interesting things about the civilization to which he belonged and, specifically, about the personality of the blond man, who turned out to be a very high-ranking figure on his home planet.

Well, among the things he told him, he confirmed what the blond man had already told him: that they were from UMMO.

This statement fills me with doubts and unleashes a torrent of deductions in my mind. The blond man and his mysterious comrades knew that news of the "UMMO affair" would necessarily reach their protégé, and that, upon further analysis, he would discover contradictions, as we have already indicated.

What to do in such a situation? Address doubts and dispel suspicions before they arise. Or, to put it another way, to bolster one's credibility based on seemingly unimportant "details.

" José Luis didn't know that the Ummites have a part of their body—usually covered by clothing—that is distinctly yellowish. This would one day become known to him, and oh, coincidence! When he emerged from the water, the first thing he saw were the yellow feet of his unknown friend, something that the ordinary confidants of the Ummites from various nations around the world had never seen and only knew in theory from information from the Ummites themselves.

José Luis also knew nothing about the extreme sensitivity that visitors from that planet have in their fingertips. The episode of the devastating effect of the coldness of the glass in his hand and the constant rubbing of his fingers against his thigh seemed to be intended to make him automatically identify his friend with the Ummites as soon as he learned of this quality or weakness. With this, any doubts he might have had about the blond man's credibility were dispelled by these facts, which he himself had witnessed, so concrete on the one hand and so "coincidental" on the other.

I may be wrong in my deductions, but the reader should know that "coincidental" circumstances like these have occurred on multiple occasions in the relationships between contactees and their visitors. And when asked how such highly evolved beings can be so naive in their stratagems to "deceive" us or convince us of what they want, we will repeat that they are far from being all-powerful and omniscient and that they have many limitations when they act with a logic completely different from ours. We will elaborate on this later.

Another question that comes to mind is the following: And why do they want to identify with UMMO's visitors if, in reality, they are not? Isn't this a deception or a blatant lie?

"Deception" and "lie" are words, concepts, and values that belong to our world and do not apply to theirs. We humans constantly "deceive" animals, yet we don't think we're doing anything wrong, nor are we ever brought before any court for it, because, after all, "deception" isn't considered such and is therefore perfectly permissible when it comes to animals.

The force of the question lies not in whether this is deception or not, but in why it is done. I confess that the answer is not at all easy, and the human mind is lost in a sea of conjectures that can easily lead to mistakes.

In the specific case we are considering, one solution to the doubt could be that these were two completely different types of visitors. That is to say, those from UMMO could be beings like us, many years ahead in their techniques and evolution, but deep down, beings like us, with a physical and physiological reality comparable to ours, which they cannot transform at will and which they cannot do without. In other words, beings who, although from a planet very far from ours, live in the same dimension as us or in one completely in tune with ours; therefore, when they come to our world and communicate with us, they connect well with our way of being and become credible, while at the same time being more vulnerable to our possible hostility.

The blond man, on the other hand, would belong to beings from another dimension, with a physical reality completely different from ours. The body with which they manifest among us would be manufactured ad hoc, and their "mind" or intelligence would function within parameters completely different from those in which ours operates.

Accepting these assumptions, it's not difficult to understand why beings so distant from us would want to join or "be associated" with other beings who, also labeled "non-human," nevertheless present themselves with credentials much more acceptable to the humans of this planet.

But the trouble is that this apparent "deception" is not only seen in this case we are discussing, but is almost a constant throughout the entire UFO phenomenon: "cosmic visitors" very frequently say things that are not true. The key question still awaits an answer: Why do they do this?

In the chapter dedicated to the jinn, as they are known in Islam, there is another possible solution to the question. But then we will have to ask ourselves again: are all those who "deceive" or say things that do not conform to our logic or the reality we know, malevolent jinn seeking to play with humanity?

I don't think so. I believe there are beings who positively seek the good of the humans with whom they communicate, and I believe there are those who defend us from the possible "deceptions" of others. But even despite this, I still believe they don't do this—neither the "help" nor the "deception"—out of love or hatred for us, but ultimately out of their own interest. The same people who help certain humans are very likely to harm others because it suits them at that moment. I suspect that the ultimate reason some of these beings say things that aren't true is to get out of trouble, or they simply don't care what we think of them. Something like what many parents do when their young children ask them, while they are being dressed in their pajamas for bed, if they are going to take them to see the fire trucks the next day. The parents, almost without hearing, solemnly affirm that they are, and even assure them that they will buy them a "real" car. But the only thing they have in mind is that that brat finally gets into bed, and lets them watch their video program in peace.

I understand that what I am saying is unacceptable to many people and sounds like something insulting to the human race. But in the face of so many "lies" told by our visitors, including those who have helped their contactees, one cannot help but think this way, however hard it may be on human pride.

There is still another aspect that is even more difficult to explain; but it would take us too far to try to find a solution for it now and would divert us from the specific topic we are dealing with in this chapter. I am referring to the lengthy instructions on a wide variety of subjects—regardless of whether they are true or not—with which these beings from the "beyond" usually instruct their visitors. On many occasions, such instructions sound absurd; in the long run, they have proven completely useless and have often been given to individuals who were not prepared to assimilate them. Let's leave for another occasion the explanation of this strange occurrence, which has been and continues to be so common among contactees.

In our case, José Luis has also received many instructions, but he is ready to assimilate them, and it is impossible to say whether they will be of any use to him in the future. Some of them, judging by the facts, seem to have already been very useful to him.

Logically, the reader has been wondering for a while: Who is this blond man and where does he come from? When José Luis has asked him this question, directly or indirectly, the answer has always been evasive, more or less veiledly stating that he preferred not to talk about the subject. According to what José Luis told me, he has never openly confessed to her that he is not of this world, although he has hinted at it on many occasions. One day, he told her with some sadness that he had to leave and that they would not see each other again for a long time. Indeed, when the time for his usual visit arrived, he did not show up, and he was missing for many months. It was during this time that the episode at the small hotel with the "ummita" with the yellow feet occurred.

Today, the strange symbiosis between José Luis and the blond man still works. I doubt if I'll ever have the opportunity to personally see this character from the "beyond" and exchange a few words with him. I presume my presence is "non grata" because I have a great tendency to ask questions and get to the root of things. And as we've seen, these beings dislike being questioned about their origins and intentions in our world.

On many occasions, I've written entire forms for the various "contactees" to use when they were visited, and in virtually every case, my friends returned without their questions being answered. Instead of answering, they prefer to give instructions. And on occasion, when faced with the human's form, they have been told bluntly that what they should do was listen, not ask.

Illustration 14. Photocopy of the drawing the blond man made in front of J.L., predicting archaeological discoveries near the Zócalo square in Mexico City. It indicates other places where even more important things are located.

Illustration 15. J.L.'s interpretation of the drawing the blond man made. According to him, what is located where J.L. put a question mark is even more important than what has already been discovered.

 

[ivanb]

Jordan Maxwell, a beloved researcher of hidden history and symbols, is here remembered through this short video capturing a first encounter with his work.