Author Archives: conartistocracy

About conartistocracy

Blogs: (Prayerwarriorpsychicnot) Citizens, not Serfs A Word in Your Ear Radical Bookcase Tales of Unwise Paths (fiction)

Just another UFO Conspiracy Theory (War by Proxy)

“Is everything ready?”

“All the pieces are in place”.

The aliens relaxed in their office overlooking the city.  To the casual observer they were completely human, but inside their human shells clustered a honeycomb of cells, some empty, others occupied.  And each occupied cell contained a human soul. Elsewhere the owners of the souls were going about their daily lives, apparently normal, but their minds enslaved to the aliens’ bidding.

“How soon till the strike?” one asked, a slender finger stroking his handsome jaw.  He was a senior member of a state spy organisation.

“We have taken over key personnel in the government, spy agencies, police, military and media.  They are following our agenda.  We have instigated political instability in neighbouring Muslim lands, and made borders permeable. Migrants are providing protective cover in every city, town, village and rural area”.

“And the Muslim nations are co-operating?”

“Absolutely.  Their cultures’ condone genocide and their religion supports annihilating infidels.  They now see an opportunity to seize all wealth and lands of the West, minus the people.  We have demonstrated our biological weapons and given them a vaccine to give them immunity – but the immunity has an expiry date. In every country in the world, terrorist madmen would simultaneously release their deadly toxins. One side wipes the other side out, then dies themselves – and we have a clean world to occupy”.

Inside the honeycombed bodies of the aliens, the captive souls of politicians, generals, spies, media leaders, screamed and fought for release – but to no avail.

Outside, their slave bodies blandly went about their business, building the stage for Armageddon.

The aliens turned silently to the window and gazed out on the world that would soon be theirs.





Fallen (1998)

Forever Cinematic

Evil is everywhere, and in everybody.  That is never truer than in this film.  I saw Fallen in its original theatrical run fourteen years ago.  I loved it then, and I still love it today.  I owned in on VHS, and later, it was one of the earliest DVDs I saw.  At the time of release, I stated it was one of the best suspense thrillers I had seen.  Now, even after being exposed to a wider array of films in that genre, this still holds up strongly for me.  The supernatural twist surely adds to that.  Fallen really is an inspired film of its genre that is gripping and engaging on multiple levels from the awesome beginning to the masterful ending.

Detective John Hobbes (Denzel Washington) has already arrested serial killer Edgar Reese (Elias Koteas).  He’s been convicted, and is now awaiting his execution in the gas chamber.  Although…

View original post 1,646 more words

V for Vendetta


Film Title

V for Vendetta


James McTeigue


  • Hugo Weaving as V
  • Natalie Portman as Evey Hammond
  • Stephen Rea as Eric Finch
  • Stephen Fry as Gordon Deitrich
  • John Hurt as Adam Sutler

A provocative and very arresting political/action thriller based on a comic, V for Vendetta is a confronting movie that tackles a lot of controversial topics and ideas with a sense of style and a brain that is sometimes lacking from films usually on this nature.

In a futuristic version of London, chaos has blighted everything along with an oppressive government.v-for-vendetta-poster Being not dutiful to the ruling power results in imprisonment and death. Activists, homosexuals, and people of different races are frequently targeted just for being different. A virus has claimed many lives in the United Kingdom and Europe. Most prominently is the government in power, run by Adam Sutler; who exercises cruel control over nearly every aspect…

View original post 1,040 more words

TV Review – Dark Skies

Behind The Curtain

In an extra blog for this week, I’m reviewing Dark Skies, a conspiracy theory-based sci-fi series from the 90s, which followed in the footsteps of The X Files but was cancelled before its time. Spoilers ahead.

The main cast of Dark Skies The main cast of Dark Skies

I try to avoid cancelled TV shows unless I know they’ve ended properly, which often means waiting for a show to become really popular. So many shows are cancelled after the end of the season, ending on unsatisfying cliff-hangers. With all these serialized shows around nowadays, it’s like putting on a movie and having it turned off fifteen minutes before the end.

But in 1996, I was – ahem – ten years old. I had no idea Dark Skies was just going to stop before it had really gotten going.

Dark Skies is set in 1960s America and posits that aliens have secretly invaded and are among us…

View original post 825 more words


This is how THEY play the game.

You are a boxer.  You are a champion with a good chance of winning.

You get in the ring to face your opponent; you square up, you fight, it is clear you are going to win.

Then someone in the audience shoots you in the back.

This is how THEY play the game – every game.


Prior to the boxing match, THEY arrange for someone to seduce your wife/bully your children/block your son from employment/take a malicious legal suit against you/your wife/your son/swindle your son/daughter out of substantial savings/burn down a neighbour’s house/steal your car/arrest you on a trumped-up charge/destroy your garden/kill your pet ……. ………. ……… ……..


Perhaps it wasn’t a boxing match.

Perhaps you were about to take crucial exams/accept a good job/promotion/marry Mr Right/Miss Right/start a business/publish a book/receive an inheritance/exhibit an art work/win a talent competition/compete in the Olympics/accept an award/ move to a better address ……. ……… ……..

Seem familiar?  Anything like this ever happen to you? Ever think you have been cast in the role of mole in a political game of whack-a-mole?

Ever wonder how bad luck has such perfect timing?

And perfect aim.

Shouldn’t coincidences be random and not systematic?

Ever wonder why the same people always win and the same people always lose?

Does anything happen in the human sphere which a person has not caused to happen?


By Design (Pimpworld)

“We thought this design would be effective”.

The draftsman pushed the prototype across the desk to the panel.

“Similar species with prolonged immaturity have a heat cycle of approximately 10 years to allow the mother to raise one child to a degree of self-sufficiency, free from male sexual demands”.

“You mean, sex once every 10 years?” One of the panel queried. “No good”, and he pushed the prototype back.

Another draftsman coughed softly and gently pushed his prototype forward.

“We took into account your policy statement that the males would take no part in  child raising.  In view of the particularly demanding nature of the young I have proposed that the young be raised collectively by groups of mothers.  As this is a social species who work, hunt, food gather and live in groups, this would fit in the normal social pattern”.

The panel briefly conferred.

“And this would mean collective protection of the young by the mothers?” one of the panel queried.

“Yes.  This deals both with the needs of the mothers for help and results in a high level of protection for the young”.

“No good” the first panel member stated, pushing the proto back to the draftsman.

“But why? It meets all your requirements”.

“If the females band collectively to protect the young, they might extend that to banding collectively to obstruct male sexual advances.  This has been observed in other species.  Next”.

The third draftsman hesitated before pushing his prototype before the panel.

“We had a bit of difficulty with your requirement to maximise intelligence.  The needed circumference of the head at birth creates a high incidence of death and injury to the mother and child.  We suggest the female bodies are scaled up accordingly so that the young are a proportionate size”.

A ripple of laughter ran through the panel. With a deliberately straight face one said, “You are suggesting that the females should be bigger than the males?”

“And more muscular.  Their bodies have to carry a substantial weight unlike the males who only have to  carry ……”

His voice trailed off at the expressions on the panel’s faces.

“And” he desperately continued, “when you consider the size of  infants to a mature female gorilla…”

The rest of his statement was swamped by gales of laughter from the panel.  With a wave of his hand the first panelist dismissed him.

“In fact you are all dismissed.  Bring in the next candidates”.

The draftsmen sloped from the room and three bright-faced graduate recruits trooped in.

“This is your assignment.  We require a design for the females of this species.  We want maximum intelligence and maximum sex.  The males will take no part in the raising of the young.  Any questions?”

“Maximum sex.  Won’t this amplify the danger to the females and their young and subject both to continuous ongoing harassment?”

“It will – and your point is?”

“Well, I …”

“Maximum sex means maximum young.  That means the females and young can experience a high attrition rate without endangering the survival of the species”.

The students quietly considered this.

One spoke hesitantly.  “Maximum reproduction means abandoning a heat cycle and having continuous fertility.  This will mean frequent sloughing of the uterine lining a process repugnant to both the males and females”.

The panelist nodded.  “The males can avoid the females when they are undergoing the process.  Their reward is continuous access to sex”.

“But why?” asked one student. “Why do you want maximum reproduction and maximum sex.  You have designed for intelligence.  Why would you want an intelligent species to spend more time on animal activities than even animals do, when they are equipped to do so much else – science, technology and arts?”

A member of the panel who had remained silent up till then answered.

“So we can throw away the people we don’t want and there is a fortune to be made out of sex”.


Copyright conartistocracy, September 2017



“Somebody said you’re the girl who finds things. Are you?”

Sam turned to look at the younger girl, a good foot shorter than herself. She was starting to see a pattern in the faces of the children who came to her.  Their eyes wet as they had just been crying.  Eyes anxious and pleading.  Some tied their hands in knots as they anxiously made their request.

“I’m the finder” Sam replied. “What have you lost?”

The face relaxed before her. “It’s my favourite teddy.  A tiny one.  Mum told me not to take it to school, but I love him and I take him everywhere.  I must have pulled him out of my pocket when I took my hanky out”.

The girl reached into her pocket, retrieved her hanky and wiped her nose.

Sam thought. A pretty toy.  If it fell anywhere in the playground another kid would have picked it up and kept it.  Not good.  But, there was still a chance.

She took the younger girls arm.

“Let’s walk and you tell me everywhere you’ve been since you last saw your teddy”.

Arm in arm the girls strolled round the playground while the boys weaved around them in their boisterous games, and cliques of girls looked the other way, only some looking curiously at Sam, the finder. They had heard stories about her.  She was the one you went to if you lost something.  Nine times out of ten you got it back.

They strolled around the open playground while Sam let her senses take in the girl’s atmosphere.  She thought of it as frequency, as her Dad was an electrician and had explained to her about frequencies, and wave lengths, and how you tuned a radio. It was like tuning into a radio.  You read the girls frequency, then kept your antenna alert for when you felt the signal of the same frequency.  The possession and the owner sent out the same signal.

The playground was clear and Sam knew there was little chance of finding the teddy if it had been lost here.

“Did you go anywhere else?”

The girl’s face had taken on a forlorn cast as she was coming to the conclusion that her teddy was lost for good.

“I went to the loo first thing after class, as I always do”.

The girls headed to the girls lavatory. With a rush of relief Sam felt the signal as soon as they entered the door.  Faint but definite.  The girl ran to her cubicle then rushed out with a whoop of joy, a tiny, pretty teddy with a red bow waved in her hand.

“I must have dropped it when I went to the loo”.

Sam smiled. Face all in smiles, the girl stuffed teddy deep into her pocket.

“Thank you, thank you” she said, and she rushed back into the playground to join her friends, Sam forgotten.

How many was that? Sam wondered. It had started by chance at the start of term.  A friend had lost her scarf.  Sam had helped her find it, and then realised she had a sense for missing objects.  It was a feeling that matched the object with the owner, like a magnetic attraction.  You just brought the two together.  People who knew her came to her when they lost things, and most times she found them.  Then children she didn’t know started to come to her.  First older children, then younger.  Sam didn’t mind.  It gave her something to do to pass the boring lunch hour when she would have much rather been home reading a book.

For her seventh birthday her aunt gave her a butterfly broach. It was the most beautiful thing Sam had ever seen, and she was not much interested in jewellery.  It was a golden metal, enamelled with bright cheerful yellow, and deep blue rings for eyes.  It had a safety clasp so it could not be lost.

One day she wore the broach to school, and somehow the safety clasp didn’t work and the broach fell off. Search as she might she could not find it.  She felt as if a part of her heart had been taken away.  Then several days later a girl from a younger year stopped her in the playground.  The girls face was serious and worried.

“I heard you lost a broach” the strange girl said.

Sam nodded.

“I think I found it”. But the girl still looked worried  “Are you sure you want it back?”

“Yes” said Sam.

Without a word the girl handed over Sam’s broach and walked away. Sam looked at the broach in her hand.  Definitely it was her broach, but now it was broken.  The wings had become flattened, and the coloured paint had been stripped off.  It was no longer the tiny gem of beauty it had been.

As Sam looked at the broach she heard a man’s voice in her head. Mature, authoritative.  He was referring to her finder ability.

“If you continue what you are doing one day you will find something that would be better left unfound”

Sam obeyed. She obeyed automatically.  In her experience adults were more often right than children.  They were right nine times out of ten, where children were wrong nine times out of ten.  From that day on she never found for anyone again.

And many years later. Many, many years later, when her finder ability would have saved many lives, she was blind.  Thousands died because she could not find them.