From the Mountain, Book II




"Precious Child, it is I, Master Jesus. Sit and write from atop the Mountain; for your cries have been heard to the heavens. Time is short to get these messages out and you need great discipline to get them typed, so that they can be published."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Child, climb into My chair of power, wisdom abundant, knowledge, miracles and more. You shall need to prepare your son-glasses for microscopic vision; for, you shall need to look far below. Write as seen, and given."

"My Lord, I am looking far below and find myself in a room. There is a man in this room, pacing back and forth, who appears to be George Washington; but as I look at him man I know that he is wearing a disguise. When he takes off the disguise, I see that he is a younger Ronald Reagan."

"‘Tis so, Child."

"Why the disguise?"

"What is before him, Child?"

"The Declaration of Independence. This George Washington/Ronald Reagan enigma looks admiringly at this document and seems to be pleased. There are others in this room, where a celebration is unfolding. He approaches others with the ‘high-five’ sign, slapping their hands with glee. I look outside and see abundant snow on dark, narrow streets, and with the exception of several horses tied to posts just outside the door, all seems rather deserted. Inside, Washington rolls up the Declaration of Independence and puts it under his arm; then, he takes a lantern, leaves the festivities, and heads down the snow-filled street. He follows the street a short distance and comes to a door, which is labeled ‘Martha Washington.’ He knocks on the door and much to my surprise Nancy Reagan answers the door. She invites him into a modest house and they sit at a table for two.

‘The Yankees are coming,’ he says. ‘We must bed down for the night.’ Then, they put on their nightcaps and go to bed. At 1:00 AM there are three, strong knocks at the front door. A very large man, resembling the late Dan Blocker, stands at the door and says, ‘The Yankees are coming, we must prepare.’ The two dress hurriedly and go outside into the cold night air, where the snow is falling steadily. Martha takes a broom and begins to sweep aside the snow, but it falls faster that she can sweep.

‘Get into the carriage!’ George exclaims. ‘Hurry, the Yankees are coming!’ Hurriedly, Martha jumps into the carriage and the fat man drives. The roads are very rocky and Martha’s hat keeps falling over to one side. Washington blurts out, ‘What shall we do about the Melai Massacre?’ Martha pretends not to hear and keeps on knitting. As they travel on, they come to a small stream called ‘The Stream of Life,’ and they cross it. It is rocky, indeed, but they go over, even though the carriage sways from side to side. ‘Get me some lotion, Martha,’ George commands. ‘My hands are chapped, and this journey shall be long.’

Martha pulls a bottle of Jergens Lotion from her purse and oils his hands and feet. Washington is beginning to look very old; his hair is white and sparse and his face is chapped. ‘What shall we do, Martha? The Yankees are coming and they shall kill us, surely.’

‘Dear, we shall ride the West Wind. Ride the West Wind!’ In the flight on the West wind, the two get caught up in cinders. Gray-black cinders cover them and Martha says, ‘I despise soot. Look at us. We are black with filth.’

‘Yes,’ Reagan says, ‘but, we have reached our destination; we are at the base of the mountain. See the writing of the mountain, ILLUMINATI WELCOMES YOU, WELCOME HOME.’

At the base of the mountain is a black door, through which both enter, awaited by cheering crowds. Then, they lie on conveyor belts and travel down them until they end in front of steam pressers, like those found in laundries. Both Ronald and Nancy pass through the steamers and are ironed flat. Someone dressed in white, with a chef’s hat, takes them off the conveyor and stands them up. At first, they look like cardboard cutouts, but soon they begin to expand on their own. As they come to life, they begin mingling with in the crowd.

As I look over the crowd, I see George Bush, President Carter, Gerald Ford, Lyndon Johnson at the bar drinking one shot of whiskey behind the other, Clinton, Gore, of course the ‘R’ man, Queen Elizabeth, Newt Gingrich, and an array of other people I do not recognize. I see a famous movie director from Los Angeles, Henry Kissinger, and Barbara Walters, hobbling on a cane. Nearby is Diane Sawyer. There are many at this gathering, who embrace evil."

"Yes, Child, ‘tis so."

"My Lord, why did you show me this?"

"To show you something about the history of your country."

"So, George Washington was of The Illuminati?"

"‘Tis so."

"Ronald Reagan is the spirit of George Washington?"

"Back again."

"Looks like he picked the same wife?"

"Have you not seen it?"

"Yes, My Lord. Washington had much to do with the founding of our country, yet he loved the secret societies of evil?"

"Both George and Martha were caught up in this evil."

"Who are the ‘Yankees?’"

"Those they consider infidels."

"What do you mean?"

"Those opposed to Illuminati causes."

"Why would they be concerned about this?’

"Threats to power, Child."

"We believe that good men founded this country, but it was a haven for Luciferians from the beginning."

"The wheat grow with the tares."

"Why were they so eager to get away from the ‘Yankees?’"

"They had a dread, a fear of being caught."

"So, they carried this fear with them when they crossed the stream of consciousness?"

"‘Twas one rocky road."

"Why did they make a decision to go west in this life?"

"To get away from Washington and their past."

"But they went back to Washington."

"Yes, indeed. For, unresolved conflicts draw one to the same places and situations."

"Explain the cinders and the soot."

"What do you believe this to be?"

"When they died they were caught up in darkness."

"This and more."

"Please explain."

"Where there’s smoke, there’s fire."

"They went to hell?"

"Were they not black with soot?"

"Yes, My Lord. If they went to hell last time for their secret, dark doings, why did they come back and get into the Illuminati darkness again?"

"Birds of a feather."

"Reagan could be so charming."

"Charming, indeed, just as Clinton is charming. Those, who follow Lucifer, can be the smoothest, the most charming of all."

"My Lord, why was Martha trying to sweep the snow at night?"

"What is the snow?"

"I cannot be sure."

"Drought of the soul."

"Like a cold soul?"


"So, she was trying to expunge guilt by her actions?"

"Expunge coldness, absence of Me."

"My Lord, they entered the cave and went down the conveyor through the presses. What does this mean?"

"Through ritual, Child, their humanness has been ironed out. They came out stiff from ironing and then became the life of the illuminati party, did they not?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Then, ‘tis so, in real life."

"Reagan has seemed so easy-going."

"In some ways, yes. Where he is lacking, Nancy supplies the iron."

"This is most amazing."

"Amazing, yes, how the Luciferians have managed to control you from atop since the beginning."

"And, we hadn’t a clue."

"Neither, do many of them, Child. They just feel the pull of like mind and spirit and they travel it."

"With these at the top, how have we managed to stay afloat as long as we have?’

"Child, you have had many in your government, who were not Luciferians."

"Like John Kennedy, perhaps? Was he killed because he would not go along with the Luciferian plans?"

"He was killed because he would not accept their plans for world expansion."

"You mean, the New World Order?"
"This and more."

"Like, what?’

"He would not smoke the ‘big cigar.’ See the ‘big cigar.’"

"My Lord, I see a big cigar, which reads ‘Money changers.’ The cigar has a brown door, which opens to a dark stairway, which has a single light on the wall."

"Go down the stairway."

"My Lord, I have done so; it is exceedingly cold here at the base of these stairs and the wind is howling, like an Arctic wind. I see a steel-gray, metal door in front of me."

"Push open the door.’

"I have done so and find myself amidst great boulders of ice, and snow is all about. I see an office in the rear of the room and the lower part of this office is wooden, but the upper part is glass, and I can see into the room. The door to the office has writing, which says, ‘Rothschild only;’ and I see one of the ‘R’ family in the office chewing up a huge cigar and spitting out the chewed up pieces. Incredibly, he is spitting out these chewed up pieces, spit and all, into ice trays and freezing this concoction in various freezers, lining the walls and hallways, as far as I can see. Looking beneath, I see three basements full of these ice trays. So, My Lord, this ‘R’ man was in on the death of JFK because he would not play and pay the Illuminati way?"

"This, and more."

"Like, what?"

"Like, whom?"

"My Lord, whom?"

"Child, who has his nose up the rear end of this ‘R’ man?"

"Lyndon Johnson. You mean, he knew?"

"Not only did he know, he was an active player."

"Did Oswald fire the shots that killed Kennedy?"

"Child, you know the story. He was a plant. The real shots came from elsewhere, from those within your own government, from your own Illuminati secret service. Child, why do you believe them to be called ‘Secret?’"

"Because their deeds are so evil, and they must work in darkness that others not know."

"‘Tis so, Child. Like attracts like."

"My Lord this is chilling and dark to the core."

"Yes, indeed, Child, the Illuminati have controlled nearly 2/3 of your presidents."

"Now, we find out. All the time, we believed we had a democracy."

"Child, you have had a battle ground, where good and evil have fought for control. At least, you have had this chance, but this has changed dramatically. The evil ones have gained control of your legislative bodies, where they get their way 95 to 100% of the time. These evil ones have you sewed up. They own you; they own your media and work to destroy your youths. You are decadent and this is why you must go as a nation."

"My Lord, I know and the fall comes swiftly."

"‘Tis so, Child, as you are ripe. Go in me. I am Jesus. Yea Jehovah, Most High God of Earth."


As witnessed, recorded and dictated this 16th day of October, 1997,
Linda Newkirk

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