Editor’s Note: Laramie Hirsch originally posted this at his site, but asked us to cross post here, as well.
Overcome by the levels of insidious worldwide control of the deep state, we are finally shown a vision of the mastermind behind it all. And what do we come to find out? We learn that he’s the disembodied head of a publicly executed Saracen, floating in a jar, plugged up to a conundrum of tubes and wires, and animated by fallen spirits. This reanimated body part is the true force behind the insidious world government.
Such is the climactic knowledge we come to learn in the third book of C.S. Lewis’ famous Space Trilogy, That Hideous Strength. Let’s take a moment to remember some of these haunting passages:
“What exactly are you asking me to do?” she said.
“To come and see our chief, first of all. And then—well, to join. It would involve making certain promises to him. He is really a Head, you see. We have all agreed to take his orders.”
“Our Head is the first of the New Men—the first that lives beyond animal life. As far as Nature is concerned he is already dead: if Nature had her way his brain would now be mouldering in the grave. But he will speak to you within this hour, and—a word in your ear, my friend—you will obey his orders.”
“I dreamed I was in a dark room,” said Jane, “with queer smells in it and a sort of low humming noise. Then the light came on—but not very much light, and for a long time I didn’t realise what I was looking at. And when I made it out . . . I should have waked up if I hadn’t made a great effort not to. I thought I saw a face floating just in front of me. A face, not a head, if you understand what I mean. That is, there was a beard and nose and eyes—at least, you couldn’t see the eyes because it had coloured glasses on, but there didn’t seem to be anything above the eyes. Not at first. But as I got used to the light, I got a horrible shock. I thought the face was a mask tied on to a kind of balloon thing. But it wasn’t, exactly. Perhaps it looked a bit like a man wearing a sort of turban . . . I’m telling this dreadfully badly. What it really was, was a head (the rest of a head) which had had the top part of the skull taken off and then . . . then . . . as if something inside had boiled over. A great big mass which bulged out from inside what was left of the skull. Wrapped in some kind of composition stuff, but very thin stuff. You could see it twitch. Even in my fright I remember thinking, ‘Oh, kill it, kill it. Put it out of its pain.’ But only for a second, because I thought the thing was dead, really. It was green looking and the mouth was wide open and quite dry. You realise I was a long time, looking at it, before anything else happened. And soon I saw that it wasn’t exactly floating. It was fixed up on some kind of bracket, or shelf, or pedestal—I don’t know quite what, and there were things hanging from it. From the neck, I mean. Yes, it had a neck and a sort of collar thing round it, but nothing below the collar: no shoulders or body. Only these hanging things. In the dream I thought it was some kind of new man that had only head and entrails: I thought all those tubes were its insides. But presently—I don’t quite know how, I saw that they were artificial. Little rubber tubes and bulbs and little metal things too. I couldn’t understand them. All the tubes went into the wall.
No one had read the dials, adjusted the pressures, or turned on the air and the artificial saliva. Yet words came out of the dry gaping mouth of the dead man’s head. “Adore!” it said.
“No. Filostrato and Wilkins are quite deceived about the Head. They have, indeed, carried out a remarkable experiment by preserving it from decay. But Alcasan’s mind is not the mind we are in contact with when the Head speaks.”
“Do you mean Alcasan is really . . . dead?” asked Mark. His surprise at Frost’s last statement needed no acting.
“In the present state of our knowledge,” said Frost, “there is no answer to that question. Probably it has no meaning. But the cortex and vocal organs in Alcasan’s head are used by a different mind.”
So why am I sharing passages like this? Why am I talking about a science fiction book from 80 years ago, in which a demonically possessed head in a jar is giving orders to an antichrist deep state? Probably because we’re seeing something very much like that right now.
Prescience or Prophecy?
There is a particular video we’ve seen this month, shortly after the usurpatious Joe Biden was put into office, in which the old man is sitting at his desk, ready to sign executive orders. Behind him, like masked sentinels standing guard to make sure he does everything correct, stands House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi. A document is put in front of Biden, and he mumbles: “I don’t know what I’m signing.” And then, as the camera pulls out, we see Biden signing the document anyway. Kamala Harris stands over him to his right, watching to make sure the deed is done.
In another instance, we see Biden making his way to his undeserved inauguration. He passes two Marines. He doesn’t salute. Instead, he says: “Salute the Marines.” We come away from this realizing that someone was likely telling Biden through an earpiece to salute the Marines, and instead of saluting them, he simply repeats the command to “salute the Marines.”
The Left’s Establishment Media denies all of this, utilizing their organs of influence to blow it all off as disinformation. However, anyone who has the ability to think for themselves and has been paying attention to the affairs of state will agree that the Democrat Party wheels out Joe Biden like some sort of a macabre puppet to be used as a public face. His gaffes throughout the past twelve months have been a national embarrassment. Hideous things are being done in this country, but to try to soften their image, they’ll trot out their sacrificial lamb, Joe Biden, who is the reanimated corpse of a bygone Baby Boomer Democrat Party.
In this way, Biden is like that head in a jar with tubes and wires running into it. He’s kept alive and healthy in as many ways as modern science has to offer. But the entities speaking through the man are not his voice.
I’m not saying Biden is filled with demons who speak through him (though I wouldn’t rule it out). He’s obviously a puppet for radical leftist communists hell-bent on killing the United States as you know it. But I will most certainly stand behind the statement that those leftists are working in cooperation with the Kingdom of Hell. And like the insidious and insultingly named deep state of Lewis’ book, N.I.C.E. (The National Institute of Coordinated Experiments), our deep state is also hurriedly working to usher in a demonic age that pays homage to Satan.
As a result of these people, everything is now fake. Biden’s mental capacity. His “election.” Our stock market. Our currency. Our rights and liberties. Everything is a reanimated corpse, anymore. As I’ve said before, our modern body politic is a soulless corpse that ambles around, seeking to feed its empty, rotted out stomach.
I bet C.S. Lewis would’ve been astounded to learn just how right on the mark he was when conceiving his fiction. His story foretells the nature of the beast of the Apocalypse — a beast we are having to suffer with in our very day.