At a time when the distribution of information in America is under a much stricter control than it has ever been, and when the meaning of what the people are allowed to know is deliberately misrepresented by on-call experts serving the agenda of those who control the distribution of information, some may see A Time of Change as an underground book. It was not intended as such, and in the era of e-communication and e-files there is no longer such thing as a safe underground for the noncompliant. That said, the more they want certain truth hidden from the masses, the same Internet makes it more difficult for them to silence the truth speaking ordinary people. On the other hand, the academia leadership plays for the same owners and tries to make sure the status quo remains unchanged. This book is an all out sharing of verifiable facts, no innuendos or hidden agendas here, targeting the entire global community. Despite how some may choose to react because of how the evidence affects their current social status, no matter their political, religious, or artisanal ideological affiliations, this book will forever take the Earth-human out of the illusion of reality created by the way of perception manipulation, something civilization Earth was forced to exist under for thousands of years.
THE AUTHOR'S JOURNEY.
When I look back at my life so far, I have no doubts the premises for the writing of the book have been set before I opened eyes into this world. Based on memories accumulated along the time to be revealed under different circumstances, it looks very much like my life's course was programmed for this destination.
There has been an indisputable pattern in terms of the people I came in contact with, including the family I was born into and the family I created through marriage. Everything left me with no other choice but keep the out-there at a distance so I could observe it as objectively as possible from my protective inner domain. This way I would remain untouched by the absurd, the deception, and the irrational I was often surrounded by. One could say I did not have a normal life, and yet a normal life would be unsuitable for anyone's mission in life. I had a very interesting life, to say the least, for which I am grateful to the universe and to my guides. More than that, I do not expect or wish that to change in the years ahead.
We choose our parents and this way our entire circle of family and friends before we are born, a choice that serves the purpose of our coming into this world. My family forced me to live within myself and to some extent free of restrictions, by the way of maternal and paternal disinterest, which allowed me to focus on everything I was experiencing from a very personal perspective and without any interference. Nobody told me how things are. I had to figure that all by myself, and it helped. For, unbeknownst to them, they would put me in situations that turned out to be great lessons I needed to learn so I could become aware of a certain reality. It did not matter if I liked it or not, I was alway where I needed to be, and that is also the case for where I am right now.
I would take advantage of their disinterest in me, and I would wander the world on my own, meeting people that would mold my personality in a way that made me trust my own judgement and my intuition. I would wander freely the forests, the valleys, and the mountains surrounding a small village in the old country where my father ran every summer an acting school. At an early age I would get my first very close unobstructed by prejudice or pettiness look at the magnificent beauty and astonishing complexity of nature. Mother Nature taught me to live in the moment without expectations while the people of that forgotten world helped me uncover the inestimable value of honesty, common sense, and kindness. This was my Shangri-La, except that everything was as real as real can be.
Observing nature triggered within my mind questions about the origin of everything. Where did the trees, the flowers, the rivers and the rocks, the stars in the sky, the birds, and the wonder of all wonders, the human being come from? We take for granted this amazing planet planted somewhere within an infinite universe, in the middle of an hostile to life space, and yet our destiny is associated with its existence.
The house where my family rented a small room was situated between two churches, and even though my parents were not religious, I would go there alone, especially when the church was empty being that I was pretty shy. I was overwhelmed by the huge images of saints and of the Bible stories painted on the walls. As I grew up some, I was bold enough to show up in church during Sunday service. Wanted to find out how things worked in the house of God. From an early age I became aware of what they were telling people there, and I imagined everything must have been true.
I made an effort to understand what religion was all about, and while the hymn singing, the acoustics, the lit candles, the incense burning, the paintings on the walls and the priest's gilded outfit were making an impression on you, the meaning of the preached words left me wondering. They were saying that a God who looked like us created the world and man, and that everything happening to us was his will. Did they also mean all the wars, the diseases, and the cataclysms, all the social issues with our communities? Their claim did not exactly answer my very specific questions about the origin of the universe and everything in it. Then, later in life, I would figure out that the saintly figures and the stories painted on church walls were of the imaginary. In other words, everything in my church was made-up, with some of those fantasies being a deliberate distortion of a reality I would only become familiar much later in life.
Darwin's theory did not make a lot of sense to me either, and our secular atheist government in Eastern Europe apparently felt the same way. That would explain why I don't remember Darwin's name being mentioned much in biology class. This was not because the education system was not on the par with the one in the West. As a matter of fact, at the time I was in grammar school the regime was investing massively in education, reason why in those days we had great schools and mostly great teachers. It also invested in culture and art, and I knew that because I happened to grow up in the wings of the theater company where my father was an actor, a theater company that at one time was considered the best theater company in the world. The fact is, I could not believe someone would believe rabbits turned into leopards or that fishes grew overnight lungs to become land animals, and while I had heard about it, at the time I did not know much about the DNA. As it turned out, this is one of the major problems with the claims made in the theory of evolution.
During the high school years, I focused my attention to the sky, to the universe. I did not see God or angels there. Instead, from that came the realization that we were living on a speck of dust within an apparently infinite cosmic world, and the inevitable question was the same question I had been asking myself and others for quite sometime now: Why are we here, and what was out there? Not only that but what was the purpose of us living and dying on a planet like Earth? Fascinated by the awesome cosmic display of distant lights and by the beauty of the natural wonders our planetary world was appointed with, I could not understand the division and the hatefulness characterizing our communities, the oppressive behavior by those who ruled over us, the constant religious wars or triggered by territorial disputes that made our existence a nightmare, nor could I explain the division existing between us. All those questions remained deeply engraved into my memory, and much to my astonishment, decades later, once work on the book started I would find the answers to almost all of them.
TROUBLED TIMES.
By the time I was now in my late teens, the old country was under the rule of one of the most dictatorial Eastern European regimes. By the time I graduated from college, society was in full downfall both economically and morally. What made life unbearable was the fact that almost all rational existential rules had been officially abolished while lack of basic sustenance was pushing the population to the brink of uncontrollable desperation. Living on principle and organically unable to comply with the terms and demands of those irrational circumstances, I decided to abandon the acting career I had dreamed about and I prepared for all my life. It did not come easy to make that choice, and yet it was the right thing to do. My plan was to leave behind the city I grew up in and retreat, at what was still a very young age a few years out of college, to a small, quiet village in the mountains, with the people over there belonging to a still idilic world, to another dimension.
Since nature had always been my best friend and an endeared refuge from the hostilities of an out of balance world, I loved the idea very much. At the same time something within was telling me this was not where I was supposed to go, that this was not my real destination. That place I was choosing would have been too comfortable and because of that unproductive when it came to my mission in life, a mission I knew nothing about at the time. I was, however, instinctively searching for something, something I would have only known what it was once I found it.
Creative writing allows one to express himself without anyone interfering, at least not during the process of creation. Writing about the life of the mountain people and about the natural wonders they were surrounded by, about Mother Earth would have reduced considerably the censorship challenges. There were though two immediate existential issues I had to deal with. First, the situation in the country was getting worse by the day, with the most educated among the people, the ones who read books, immigrating by the thousands, by the hundreds of thousands every year. Then there was the fact that, just out of college, it was not easy to find the money I needed to build my dream home. So, I decided to go for a while where the money supposedly was: America!
In a letter to the government's passport department, I let the regime know I intended to return within a few years. Writing that kind of a letter to the government expressing my otherwise sincere desire to return there when living in that country felt at times like living in a prison was very unusual. Nevertheless, it had a good effect on what I was trying to achieve. Thousands of people would be waiting five to six years to get an exit visa, you needed to have one even if you were traveling outside the country for three days. I received mine in about eighteen months, with the American consulate too, being extremely accommodating in those days. After all, they were getting at no cost a significant number of college-educated laborers, doctors and engineers included, something the government of my country had paid for since same as health care education was free.
Turning your back to a terrible situation does not eliminate the cause of the problem or the problem. Not only that but the assumption that things are perfect on the other side of the fence turned out to be an illusion. There are no guarantees you will succeed, no rule set in stone you will become rich. Then there is the fact that everyone brings with him or her specific circumstances that may or may not be helpful when it comes to integrating in the new world.
I only spent a couple of years in America, a lot less than I initially intended to. During that time I ran into ex-pats who while in the beginning they were elated to escape the nightmare at home had been struggling for years, with no relief visible on the horizon. They were worse off than they were back in in the old country, and were visibly suffering. Eternally homesick and never adapted to the new world, you could sense how their only way to cope with the situation was by pretending things were better than they actually were. Other times, they would get extremely angry as they were sensing their hopelessness. The morning after those moments of induced illusion or crisis they would wake up with deep psychological scars that for some would never heal.
Extremely homesick myself, desperately missing the mountains, the Danube Delta, and the people of those places, I decided to return without accomplishing what I had come here to accomplish. I always had an instinctual cold relation with money, something even living in America was not going to change. Before I left for what I still called home at the time, I was able to finish though my first novel, a three-volume saga about a lost generation, my generation. Even back then I would only write about things I knew. It was a fictional story based on very real facts. I was pleased with the outcome, but not sure they will publish something like that back home considering that the dictatorial regime was still in power. The world was changing, though, and I wanted to be part of that change. So, back to a home that was still a prison I went.
On my way home I spent a month and a half in Paris, my only real vacation in my entire life as an adult. It was a wonderful experience that consisted in falling love a beautiful, intelligent being while inhaling deep into my being all the culture Paris and surroundings had to offer. That wonderful experience, however, made the reconnecting with the old country even more of a shock.
As difficult to imagine as it was, I found it in an even worse shape than it was when I left. As expected, a representative of the government showed up at my door unannounced to ask me, very politely, to write an article critical of America. It was to be published in one of the state-owned magazines. Not that everything I saw and experienced in America made a great impression on me - at that time New York's 42nd Street was a replica of what hell may look like if there was a hell, but I refused to do it. In fact, I did write an article that was not what they were expected, my explanation being, there is always something good to take from our life lessons, so why focus on the negative. A consequence of that, I was blacklisted. I was not allowed to work as an actor in the capital of the country, the national center of cultural activities, and for the next four years the manuscript of the novel I brought with me from Brooklyn, New York remained locked inside a cabinet file a the state-owned publishing house.
All so-called Communist regimes in Eastern Europe had been replaced by now or were in course of being replaced with western-type democracies. Not the one in my country, though, but you could sense the volcano was about to erupt. By the end of 1989, the leader of the regime was ousted, basically assassinated during what at the time most everyone thought it was a popular revolt. As I would soon find out, it was a coup d'état organized by members of the old regime, with support from Moscow and Washington. Unlike in the case of all the other Eastern European countries where the regime change was brought about through what the media described as a "velvet revolution," the one in Romania was bloody, one could say ugly, and nobody on the outside could tell what entities were exactly involved or who was shooting at the people and why.
A journalist now with a newspaper that had national distribution, I was a close observer of many dramatic events. I would meet with and interview people one way or the other associated with what was going on, and I soon realized the country was the victim of a staged power take over. I personally knew some of the actors of the staged revolution, with most people in the streets being used as pawns, unpaid extras in a scripted show meant to give legitimacy to the new leaders. What I found out in that regard was unprintable under those new "democratic" circumstances. We were considered opposition by the interim governing bodies, and because of that we were now under constant threat.
Old regime people and coup organizers won the proclaimed democratic elections, and I would witness crass irregularities committed at the voting stations. Once the power grab was complete, there was violence in the streets directed at those protesting the new regime, at the political parties in opposition, and at the critics of the new regime among the press. My newspaper was one of the targets and our headquarters were ransacked by government mobs. A night of the long knives was to follow, friends in the western media warned me, and that brought me back to America. The year was 1990.
AMERICA! AMERICA!
The end of October 1990, I left my old country, again, this time for good. To make it easier for us to settle, I had to leave my wife and two children behind. Considering what was going on the country and my circumstances, I was extremely confident I would be granted asylum within weeks and that I was going to have them in America before Christmas. In those couple of months I was going to make arrangements, I had things already lined up, so they would have a decent place to stay when they arrived. This time around, unlike before when everyone coming out of my country would be automatically granted asylum based solely on that, I had a very strong personal case for political asylum. Things would take though an unexpected turn, with that completely changing my life.
As the first Gulf War (August 2, 1990 - February 28, 1991) was about to erupt after Iraq had invaded Kuwait, with the war itself starting beginning of February 1991 and lasting for a whole two weeks, the United States military needed my country's refining capacities to make gas for its fighter jets. The problem with that was, as long as its government was listed as a dictatorship in the State Department's yearly country report and a violator of human rights, a few months before I left President George H. Bush described publicly the situation in my country as "a return to dictatorship," according to American law, the US could not have cut that kind of a deal with that kind of a government. To be able to get what America needed, the State Department changed the country report and did that basically as I was flying to NewYork. i had no knowledge of that, but based on this new reality falsifying report, the INS had no grounds for granting me political asylum.
The law was on my side, and yet the asylum granting process was artificially delayed to its longest possible limits. A couple of American Presidents and several senators and congressmen that offered to help when asked could not change the course of events, and in all honesty one is not sure they really tried to do that. The American immigration law is a rational good law and also a very clear law. The State Department, however, tends to abide by immigration policy not by immigration law. As a result, I had to wait for nine (9) interminable years before I was able to see my children.
That prolonged unexpected separation affected our family. Despite efforts to give them a normal family life, I had lost my children long before they arrived in America. This new development would in fact extend the isolation I was more or less forced to place myself within from the beginnings of this life in the earth plane. That degree of clear separation left me with no other choice but focus on the mission I came here to accomplish.
As the great inventor and unique human Nikola Tesla once urged people in pursuit of their high goals, "Be alone, this is when ideas are born." I have been forced into self-imposed isolation since childhood, with my personal life being always very personal. Something I was able to verify over and over again, isolation while in pursuit of liberating truth generates enlightenment. This was how ideas were born and, in the end, this was how the book came to be.
A DESTINED PROJECT.
There have been many extreme unusual developments in my life, with all of them marking me always in a positive way, even when they had the appearance of trauma. As I would eventually realize, everything was in sync with the other unusual happenings I had experienced from the time I could remember things. Some of those experiences could only be described as paranormal preparatory events. In retrospective, I can tell they were meant to guide me to the trailhead where the final phase of the journey in terms of this book project was to begin. In many instances, they would introduce me to knowledge I was to understand later. Once again, for a long while I did not know what to make of any of that, but once I started working at the book, everything made suddenly perfect sense.
When at the end of October1990 I was in America, again, I made a pact with myself: In five years I would publish something I wrote in English. The immigration issue and related concerns took my focus away from that. However, at the end of an interview for a job in a northeastern town, I was talking to this wonderful couple, and out of nowhere the lady said to me with her eyes beaming an intense light, "You should write!" and her husband was looking me in total agreement with her. I did not exactly know what to make of that either. Yes, I did have plans to write, but she, they did not know about that.
It certainly registered at the subconscious level and even though I did not get the job, they thought I was overqualified for the position, I left in high spirits. Went to my car, and I was sitting there without any interest in returning home. After a while, I decided to let my sixth sense take the wheel, and I exited the highway without knowing where the road I was on was going to take me. There are no such things as accidents or coincidences, and I ended up in the Berkshires, a place that reminded me of the one I actually was, something I had lost touch with under those stressful circumstances.
The Berkshires are known as being the most culture saturated rural area in America. I would go home and write enthusiastically an essay about the experience, "You should write," they told me, and as the creative emotions were flooding the page unrestricted, I mentioned having a vision about me writing one day a special kind book. It was October of 1995 now, five years almost to the day since my second arrival in America, and The Berkshires Eagle published the essay. Without intending it, I have kept my promise. The universe never fails to put us in the right place, at the right times, for a good reason.
It took the same immigration judge who initially rejected my request for asylum only two minutes to grant it based on the same evidence I had introduced in his court years earlier when my request was rejected. After family finally joined me, and while to be able to support them I was working one of those jobs that offered a decent salary but no professional satisfaction, I would spend several years writing for newspapers serving my community in America, Canada, and Israel. During that time, I took on the usual topics of interest, social and political events, as well as on relatively new ones, such as ancient and modern history, art, religion, and science. Following my essay being published in The Berkshires Eagle, though, I would not write anything else in English for ten years. The decision was the result of being extremely disappointed with the fact that my other writings, the ones submitted with the IRS during the political asylum debacle where not taken into consideration by the authorities. From writing nothing in English for a long while I went to writing a three-volume book of almost two thousand pages, something that, in the end, I would appropriately title A Time of Change.
Work on it began on an impulse a few days after, in a middle of a writing hiatus, I ran into a copy of a college newspaper. There was an article in it and the headline drew my attention. It was a reaction by a well-intended yet ill-informed student to a recent decision issued at the end of a December 2005 trial in Dover, Pennsylvania where a judge issued an unconstitutional ban on discussing intelligent design in public schools on account of ID being religion. Even if it were, and ID is not religion, there would have no grounds for the ban since no where in the constitution stays written that one is not to discuss religion in schools founded with federal money.
The young man was making all the right claims when it came to science being better at explaining natural things than religion was, reiterating, in fact, what teacher activists had told him in class and what he read on social media without processing the information. To the casual reader the logic behind his position appeared sound: Religion bad, science good. As far as I was concerned, though, and I knew about the matter a lot less than I know today, part of what he was stating was false, and the problem with making a logical argument based on partially false premises is that your logical argument too is now false. Indeed, the theory of evolution was no the real counter-argument to religious irrational. In fact, it was as much of a fallacy as the religious dogma was.
I had nothing else to do at the time, so, February of 2006, I decided to write an article for that same college newspaper. The subject was to be the fact that neither religion, nor the theory of evolution offered a rational explanation for the origin of life or the origin of our civilization. I knew it was a very controversial proposition, but I also knew I had strong evidence on my side. What I did not know at the time was that the debate was staged. Being that this was a too obvious reality to assume scientists and secular scholars of religion did not know what I knew, it became clear to me that the debate was not about truth seeking and truth sharing, but about perception manipulation. New evidence for that was now piling up on top of the evidence I had before I started writing the article, the argument in favor of that conclusion was getting more and more elaborate, the article became an essay, and the essay was heading toward becoming a book. Simultaneously, however, something else became very clear to me. No one was going to publish it. The same entities that wanted the public to believe religious creationism and biological gradualism were the only choices when it came to explaining the origin of humans and telling the history of humankind on this planet were the ones controlling the distribution of information.
As the book project was heading now in a direction I did not envision when work on it started, I began to realize this was going to be a little more than just controversial. In fact, since I was not an expert in the fields discussed, whatever that stands for when today people have access on the Internet to a lot more information than students paying high tuition fees have in colleges and universities, literary agents and publishers could use that, plus the appellative 'conspiracy theorist,' to refuse getting involved with the project. The fact is, precisely because I am not an expert in the academic sense, I can see things for what they are and not according to a manufactured understanding of reality one was indoctrinate with during his or her formative years. As a result, I had only two choices: either abandon, or continue the path and let the facts take me wherever they may. I decided to take it one page at a time and eighteen years later, I would not regret making that decision. Almost two decades dedicated to this project means that, at one time my life became the project and the project was my life.
Work on the book project started beginning of March 2006. By 2007, I had a 400-page book, and for a brief moment I was very happy with that. This was far from being the final version, though, and while new evidence was generating new ideas, I would have the same false sense of mission completed many a time. In 2013, a project re-titled now A Time of Change was one very large one-volume book of about 1,000 pages. I rushed to release it as an e-book. A couple of weeks later I took it down to make a few changes, then I released it again. Then I took it down for good and continued work on it. At one point I decided to offer it for free on my blog, and I felt very good about that. I then created a YouTube channel where I made a few measured attempts at promoting it. That turned out to be an interesting experience, a great learning lesson.
The adversarial reaction was to be expected. What came as a surprise was the lack of civility, the uncalled-for virulence of some of the attacks, the hostility, young people - vocabulary often betrays age - using standard, unthoughtful slogans learned by heart as counter-argument to facts revealing the lack of credibility of the theory of evolution. The religious people were threatening me with their God's wrath. I was convinced people would want to know the facts, that they would want to know that they were being deceived. I am still convinced this is true. In fact, humankind has made significant progress with its process of awakening. Then I realize that some of those attacks were orchestrated, meant as a way of protecting the status quo. Some of them were, in fact, protecting a source of major income generating a comfortable, ego-leasing social status.
Most ordinary commentator's opinion was tributary to political activism. Their reaction was extremely impulsive, consisting in regurgitating standard false claims never taking the time to analyze the facts laid down before their eyes or the validity of what they had been told was proven fact. I would come to the realization that this mentality was something deliberately inoculated into their psyche by entities with an agenda, which made A Time of Change even more relevant that I thought it was. Their agenda was always the same, protecting the status quo that benefited the 1 percent of the 1 percent of the most rich among the few rulers of civilization Earth. However, the status quo had to change. In fact, the status quo is about to change.
MOTIVATIONS AND AFFILIATIONS
A Time of Change is not a collection of opinions issued by experts. Nor is this a book of personal theories unsupported by fact. The reader will find in it facts one did not know existed even though they had been right before our eyes all the time. In others instances, one will become reacquainted with facts that had been misinterpreted by the protectors of the status quo. These facts are placed now within their appropriate context, with that leading to a different understanding of the reality of what we are and of why we are here than the one issued in houses of worship, in history books by mainstream historians, and in colleges and universities. In other words, this is a very large puzzle, the result of that being a realistic image of our civilization. In a game of puzzle there is no cheating. You must have all the pieces, and you have to put them in the right place or else you don't get the picture.
There are entities out there who for a long time have been opposed to making public significant parts of the liberating truth. That was because a significant change in the people's perception of reality would lead to at change of status quo. The process of awakening is though inevitable and it cannot be stopped. Two hundred years ago humankind was a lot wiser than it was four hundred years ago. Today we are wiser and we know more than we knew two hundred years ago. To be able to build something new and better we must leave behind the old frequencies of the old understanding of reality. Our time on this planet as a civilization, as well as the planet's time is limited. Unbeknownst to most people, our civilization is on the way to putting itself in a position that would allow us to move to other locations within this universe before we exhaust the planet's natural resources. Within the next two to three centuries we should experience quantum leap advancement, and there are signs this is precisely what will begin to happen very soon, a lot sooner than one may have expected.
It will not just happen because for the next 2,100 years our planet and us as spiritual entities will be traveling through an astral conjuncture favoring unheard of progress and enlightenment. We will make it happen.
First, we will have to change our understanding of what we are, the nature of reality, and of the purpose of life. This will protect us from ever again becoming victims of manipulation. And even though the attempt at restoring the balance of power on this planet may initially result in chaos, it will also generate never seen before enlightenment. With tremendous enlightenment comes tremendous technological advancement. Then we will simultaneously have to get used to the fact that we are all inhabitants of the same planet, and that living as one comes not just with shared benefits but also with shared rational responsibilities. Last but not the least we will have to acknowledge publicly the fact that our civilization is part of a larger cosmic community. It includes hundreds of thousands of worlds like ours inhabited by hundreds of thousands of other human races, with many of them being millions of years ahead of us with their development. The members of some of these advanced non-terrestrial civilizations are, in fact, our brothers and sisters.
If for the time being one does not understand certain things, he or she should not dismiss the facts. Keep an open mind, for we are all spiritual beings having an experience in the material. The universe is going to put everyone in the most appropriate situations according to one's personal level of growth, so that, in the end, everyone is going to figure out the liberating truth.
As an old word of wisdom goes, "Do good, then throw it into the sea." Contributing to the greater good is the main purpose of our collective mission in life goes, and the greater good of humankind is precisely what A Time of Change is meant to serve.
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A Time of Change is private intellectual property made available to the public in this format free of charge. You could only share it free of charge.
Copyright laws prohibit the unauthorized commercial reproduction of the entire set of documents or any part of it.
A TIME OF CHANGE - VOLUME 1 OF 3
A TIME OF CHANGE - VOLUME 2 OF 3
A TIME OF CHANGE - VOLUME 3 OF 3
