Ezra Dawn | Above Black Media
God, I miss the days of Ancient Aliens.
It’s okay to admit it. Back then, the world made a certain kind of sense. You could look at a Sumerian tablet or an Akkadian myth and see the parallels to the Bible. It wasn’t about “disinformation” or “controlled narratives.” It was about the mystery. You could look at those ancient cultures, people who didn’t have the luxury of staged press conferences or deep-state PR firms, and realize they were just describing what they saw.
I remember listening to Billy Carson and thinking that maybe false narratives weren’t a thing back then because they didn’t have to be. Then you look at the Titans and the Olympians. Suddenly the world looks a lot different than what they taught you in third grade.
I’ll never forget listening to Jason Jorjani’s Closer Encounters while doing the laundry. It changed my life. I’m standing there with a basket of shirts and jeans, having a total ontological and epistemological shock. Jorjani wasn’t just talking about lights in the sky. He was describing a control system. He was suggesting that the Tall Whites aren’t just visitors. They are the architects of our own manipulation. I’m getting ahead of myself, and we’ll get into that story another day, but the point is that back then, the truth felt reachable. It felt like something you could find if you just looked hard enough at the past.
But look at where we are now.
Today, the U.S. government is in the business of selling Disclosure. And business is booming. They’re happy to sell a version of the truth to anyone who will listen, no matter how contradictory it is. The ancient world had no PR department. Ours has several. And somewhere between the Sumerian tablets and the Senate subcommittee hearings, the mystery stopped belonging to us.
But watch the hands. This is the shell game.
Under one shell, you have the Reformers. These are the high-ranking officials testifying under oath before Congress, telling you they want the truth out. Under the second shell, you have the Gatekeepers. These are the Pentagon spokesmen sitting there with a blank stare, telling you they’ve seen nothing. And under the third shell? That’s the AARO crowd. The ones who tell you it’s all just swamp gas and sensor ghosts.
The hands moving these shells belong to the same body: the Permanent Bureaucracy. They want you focused on the shells so you don’t notice the table is empty. It’s designed to be confusing. Our whistleblowers are now Department of War-approved whistleblowers. Think about that for a second. The people leaking the truth have to get permission from the very people hiding the truth. It’s a closed loop. It has always been a closed loop.
Imagine what Prometheus would think if he saw us today. He went to the forge of the gods and stole the ultimate secret to give humanity a fighting chance. He endured eternal torture so we could have the light of reason. Now we’ve taken that light and handed it right back to the bureaucrats. We’ve allowed the state to put a padlock on the very fire that defines our species.
We’ve traded the wonder of the ancient world for the approved scripts of the modern one. We are no longer seekers. We are customers, waiting for the government to sell us back our own history at a premium.
The light of the ancients has been replaced by the fog of the bureaucracy. The fire has been stolen back by the gods in suits.
The next Prometheus won’t come from a congressional hearing.
He’s already reading this.