The New World Order Scam

The One World Family Commune

Christians, be encouraged, we'll get back to you soon enough...

and meanwhile, there's much groundwork to cover

So, down the street and up the stairs I went. It was one of those big, San Francisco row houses, packed with many new friends. Entering into the kitchen, I started to get to know some of the folks there, and I caught a whiff of the giant pot of stew cooking on the stove. Allen's son had just returned from an expedition to Arizona, to pick peyote cacti, and he had brought back a big gunny sack of them. I arrived just in time for the tea. For my readers who are not following, at this point, peyote contains a hallucinogen, called mescaline, that is kind of like LSD, only different... it is its own special thing.
 
The commune had its own jazz band, and more than acid rock even, at that time, jazz was my music. How well I remember those days, as time drifted off into the autumn of the year -- the days became more crisp, and in the mornings, the fog that had rolled in from the ocean slowly gave way to the sunshine. Friday nights were very special, since the band performed, and we all got wiped out on acid. So many times we went out back into the alley, to smoke pot, and I recall so well the echo of the jazz blending into the fog of the night, out back in the alley. Oh that world was strange way back then.
 
Other evenings we went to the Fillmore Auditorium -- the Dead, the Airplane... all the great acid rock bands of that time.
 
The driving force for my whole existence was the quest. Nothing mattered more than fusion with God, Samaddhi, the journey into Dharma, the way into the philosophic rapture of the Universe. And LSD was the means by which this was done.
 
To this day, and I'm sure I will not change my mind, Allen was the most advanced occult adept I've met in my life. Yes, it is correctly said I'm sure, he took himself too seriously. You see, he insisted that he was the Messiah. This was more than just a little embarrassing to all of us. After all... why couldn't he just get off that horse and just get real? But a mighty fine source his commune turned out to be, for what Allen called "Natures Potions..." ...so we all were inclined to more or less ignore this claim. It was OK if he was just a little weird.
 
Please at this time read Allen's account of his cosmic initiation, to become what he would call an "adept"

Please do follow along to understand; go to this link and read

It all sounds pretty quaint, cosmic smiles, the ionized clouds, the mothership...
 
So, one warm, sunny afternoon we all went hiking along the beach north of San Francisco, near Mount Tamalpais, and that afternoon, I was looking out over the surf, when suddenly up above, I am guessing 200 ft. distant, I saw what UFOlogists call a "daylight disc," which is normally regarded as one of the more rare forms of sighting. It looked like an aluminum disc, lens-shaped, gradually rolling in perspective. It seemed to be something like 50 ft. in diameter, and it had a distinctly aluminum appearance.
 
If you (the reader) right now look over at your computer, and register the image in your mind... let me ask you this, could anyone ever convince you at any time in the remainder of your life, that you had not, just now, seen your computer? Obviously no. This is how it is with me. I know what I saw that day.
 
I excitedly told everyone to look! But just as I said this, it disappeared. Allen just gave me a smile.
 
Either it was a holographic projection (but that necessitates a projector), or it was hardware capable of moving in and out of our space-time. It was what researchers call a daylight disc.
 
That fall I returned to live in Seattle again. In the spring, again I went to the Haight-Ashbury, and by this time, the One World Family Commune was living at a much larger house, right next to Golden Gate Park, just a short walk away from Haight street, and right Smack dab next to Janice Joplin's house. Her band was called Big Brother and the Holding Company. I never met her, but I do remember one fellow from our commune who did (and he had quite a story to tell, next morning). Those were the days. Those were the days of early summer of 1967, in June I remember, the Summer of Love as it was called at that time. And I remember walking across the grassy expanse of Golden Gate Park, among tens of thousands of hippies who were there, and thinking to myself about the events of that week. That was called the Six-Day War in parts distant from there. Somehow that moment stuck in my mind. Kinda one of those you never forget...  another one, I should say.
 
If your are inclined to sense the mood of that summer, where over 100,000 of us gathered, wander through the following links which present photographs from that time.

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