The Ogarkov Plan

For the lack of anything better to do, I resumed my assigned duty at the beach the next day, looking for Ursula Fleischer. As it was, I hadn't been at the beach for long when I fell asleep.

I was awakened out of a deep sleep by a group of men talking nearby. At first I thought I was dreaming. I heard them discussing Marshall Ogarkov's plan for waging and winning a nuclear war against Western Europe. What a terrible thing to wake up to. I had been briefed about the Ogarkov Plan. The little that I knew was classified information that I barely qualified to have access to, but here on the beach, it was talked about right in the open. This was supposed to be the darkest secret of the Cold War; Marshal Ogarkov's war plan based on the long-standing principles of Soviet strategic doctrine.

The men's conversation confirmed everything that I knew about it; that the Ogarkov Plan called for a nuclear blitz that would tie down and destroy all the American strategic forces in Europe in one single strike. This is something that I had never really accepted at face value. The plan assumed that the USA wouldn't retaliate, or would retaliate just slightly in response to the 'minimal' American losses in Europe. One of the men said that the nuclear winter theory had been disproved by extensive research in wave action phenomena, and that the ozone depletion scare had been disproved likewise, which he said, made winning a nuclear war a "reasonable proposition.

What insanity this was, even to think in such terms! I was shocked.

The men were talking to one-another in English. It appeared that they felt secure in their imagined privacy since they were by no means whispering.

I had been sleeping in the grass not far from them. Now I was spying on them as Leroy might have. What came out of it turned this day at the beach into one of the most interesting and frightening hours I had spent there. They were talking about things that I had heard presented as theories, hushed up under a blanket of secrecy and under the code name of the "Ogarkov Plan." Those theories have had little meaning to me. I had dismissed them as just a bunch of hypothetical speculation. This illusion ended when these men boasted about the far-reaching nature of those theories, which they said had already become policy. Obviously the policies had been far advanced according to their raving and the fact that they dared to discuss the 'project' openly. For me, these officially guarded secrets were pulled out of the closet of the theoretical and put into the real life perspective that became a horror-show unfolding in my mind.

It wasn't that I was scared to be caught eavesdropping. Their talk was scary. The men talked confidently. They spoke as though the Soviet Union was already at war with the West, backed up by a far reaching network of 'friends' who had infiltrated not only key military institutions of the West, but also key posts in the U.S. in the State Department, the White House, and top positions in the world-financial system.

"Do you remember the Bay of Pigs affair?" said one of the men. "The Americans had hatched a plan to attack and sink one of their own Navy ships in order to create a pretext for starting a war with Cuba. Kennedy stopped that. But it was nevertheless a clever idea for starting a war. We might rekindle this idea in Europe and inspire the Americans to fire the opening shot from Europe. We might yet inspire them to start the nuclear war that we want by getting them to stage a terrorist act against themselves that would blow everything up. This would open the door to a crisis in which we would instantly have the upper hand. If we can convince the Americans that they would gain financially and politically from this kind of insanity, military research indicates that the Americans could be induced to do this to themselves and then hide the reasons for it." The man began to laugh.

The other man burst into laughter moments later.

"Didn't we convince them already to railroad their most advanced strategist into jail on our behalf?" said the first man, defending his earlier comment while he laughed some more as if this was the biggest joke of the day.

All the other men laughed in agreement.

"No, Kurt, that has really happened. That's not a joke," said the first man. "That's history. I think the man's name is LaRouche. The Soviet Communist Party, through its underground channels demanded his arrest. Rumors have it that even Gorbachev was behind this. LaRouche's name has been so thoroughly trashed and dragged through the mud that the man's influence has been totally disabled for all times to come. That is how we got the Americans to destroy one of their foremost patriots, and it cost us nothing more than writing a letter demanding the man's removal."

He man added that America is full of traitors that sell their soul for a penny, and that the vast majority of these taitors have been so quietly manipulated and motivated that they may not even be aware of the valuable services they are rendering to the Soviet Union and to the ever-expanding world of communism."

"There is no limit to what our American traitors will do for us, with whom we have a working relationship through the British that have been aiming to destroy America ever since it defied the Empire and became independent," said another chap and laughed. "The British are winning. Some of the highest-level positions in the American government are staffed by British agents, and some of them are also Israeli agents serving the British. The Empire wants America eliminated, destroyed, wiped off the map. The American's special relationship with the British is the conduit for this to happen. The Soviet Union is using this conduit. It's all built into the Ogarkov Plan. Of course once the plan unfolds the Empire will cease to exist, and Israel likewise. Communism will then be the savior of the world."

"We have learned the art of the subversive game from British intelligence during the war," said one of the men, "and the British have learned this from the Venetian Empire that had invented subversive diplomacy hundreds of years ago."

All the men laughed at this.

Then one of them said that all of the involuntary traitors to their country were doing more towards helping Communism than all of the Soviet Union's hired agents could in open diplomacy, and the traitors did this simply by doing what they normally do in their small-minded thinking, which he said is destructive enough.

"They are our best allies," one of the men joked to the other, "all that we have to do is let them do their thing and mop up the pieces afterwards, and we will! Just look at the United States," he said rather pleased with himself. "One by one their defenses have come down and new ones are not being built, except for some paper kites that don't amount to anything. Their scientific elite is being eroded through open attacks by the anti-technology lobby, at our bidding, and by the removal of funds for real science. That's what our British friends have arranged. They are doing it sneakily with environmentalist attacks, which we quietly encourage through the underground. Those attacks are designed to generate a glaring lack of public trust in their leaders and in science itself. The American New World Order has made enormous progress on this road. We are not responsible for that, but we applaud it. And the best thing is, we have helped to bring much of this about with our hidden campaigns of slander against their very best people. The Americans have even persecuted their most-able pioneers in NASA at our 'bidding.' They have persecuted their best leaders in the leading-edge space-related industries. This kind of insanity gives us great advantages at not cost to us. They have even shut down their most advanced machine-tool makers when they ran into financial problems. All of this was easily done with a little 'help' from our capitalist friends. The Americans shut their own industries down without any complaints or even a whimper. Hitler had never developed this kind of destructive capability with his bombing campaigns that we have acquired subversively over the last half a century, and it has cost us practically nothing."

"Are you saying that we have turned America into our private zoo?" said another man with a high pitched voice, and began to laugh.

"I thought the British Empire lays claim that that fame," said still another. "I thought it was the British-centered private banking empire that owns the American zoo."

"What do they call this officially?" said the man with the high pitched voice. "I think they call this zoo-to-zoo-keeper relationship, their 'special' relationship?" He began to laugh again. "It looks to me as if the British have consented to let us play our games at will in their privatized zoo," he added, still laughing.

"Anyway, that is how we can prepare the ground for a nuclear war that we can win," said the man who spoke previously. "That is how we can win with certainty. We have already cut off America's foremost leaders from the population, and got them eliminated one way or another, and got people promoted that help us. Of course the process has just begun. And the best thing is, it costs us nothing. We throw out a few peanuts and some free bananas for the monkeys in the zoo and the animals come running to us, as animals do."

Then all the men began to laugh and said something about bananas.

"It's a real shame!" said one of them, and kept on laughing.

"Yes, and it is lucky for us," said the first man. "It won't take long until the Soviet Union will be the only major country on Earth that has any significant military strength left. Then the world will be completely under Soviet control," he added.

"Don't be so sure about that," said the man with the high pitched voice. "We assume a lot of things. But how certain can we be? At the deeper levels of the game the movements become less visible to the observer. Ask any chess player and he will tell you that's how the game is played. So it is totally possible that the British Empire, which doesn't officially exist anymore, is itself a slave to a higher-level imperial elite that plays booth the American and the British idiots, together with the Soviet Union as a bunch of dumb animals in its private zoo. And this elite may in turn be but slaves to still other forces, and so on. For all we know the Soviet Union itself may have become a part of the private zoo of those hidden masters. Couldn't this be the case behind the scenes, without anyone of us being aware of it? Maybe those hidden masters are playing us as a zoo, just like we think we play the Americans and believe that we are in control. Maybe the hidden masters want us to carry out this Ogarkov game and get us and America to destroy one-another. Afterwards they come in and take over. They'll take our oil, and whatever else we've got. Maybe they are playing us off like the Romans did the gladiators in their grand arenas. Maybe the Ogarkov Plan is just another banana that they throw into the trough for us to swallow." This time the man with the high pitched voice didn't laugh.

"The Ogarkov Plan is real," said the first man. "Just open your eyes. The implementation is already in progress. As far as I know the fuel supply pipelines are already being stockpiled in our country, for the rapid-invasion force that will take over all of Western Europe in the wake the nuclear blitz. The pipes are being stockpiled right here. And why not? Let's not forget that our precious DDR is actually the Soviet Union's most valuable forward logistical base. We are Russia's nuclear war base located right at the heart of the West. The I believe the plan is to take over all of Western Europe in less than a week. And I suspect its all planned to start from here."

"In this case our own soldiers will be caught in the fallout," said the man with the high pitched voice.

"Why do you worry about that? Soldiers are expendable," said the first man. "What do a few ten-thousand soldiers matter when the stakes are as high as they are, and we are so close to reaching the most important goal in history?"

"I am beginning to wonder who the real zoo animals are," said the man with the high-pitched voice. "I'm wondering who is throwing bananas to whom."

"If I were you, I would keep those concerns to myself," answered the first man. "It is not our role as students to question the plan, but to understand it. That's what the professor said."

And so the talk went on. As I suspected, the men rarely laughed after that. When I got tired of listening to them and couldn't stand the mental torturing anymore, I got up and went swimming again. I didn't go back to my blanket until after sunset that day. I stayed as far away from the men as I could.

I didn't return to my blanket until after they were gone. I was determined that I would enter the whole gruesome conversation into my logbook. Of course, I knew I couldn't do this. This dreadful subject was a closely guarded secret in the West. Not a single newspaper or television program had ever reported anything about it.

With this thought in mind I made my way back to the car in the dark. It seemed easier in the dark where everything melted into shadows to puzzle things out for which no logical solution seemed possible. I found a faint peace in that.

I didn't find a real sense of peace until my thinking strayed back into the world of wonders where Helen's bright face and her brilliant perceptions had brought light to the dark world of treachery and darkness. More and more I came to respect Erica likewise, through what Helen had said. I respected her even for her having drawn the line in the sand, though Helen had been able to step me beyond it. I respected Erica for reasons that would never be known to her now, since she had cut herself off from me out of fear. Erica had drawn that line into the sand beyond which our affair could no longer exist openly in her world, which would have then be carried on in secrecy or be covered over with lies. This would have started a regression. Thus, I respected Erica's radical stand for openness and honesty as if it was her protest against all the secrecy and the lies in the political world.

As I thought about Erica I became aware of the fact that not a single word about the Ogarkov Plan had appeared in the communist press, even though the plan had incalculated the destruction of 200 million human lives, 50 million of which were expected to be killed within the USSR. What a monstrous deception stood behind this secrecy. The vast death toll that was already accepted was regarded to be a painful, but necessary sacrifice for assuring the survival of the Soviet system. According to the men's' talking, the Soviet State had already advanced its nuclear war project to the pre-deployment phase. Evidently fifty million of Russia's own people have already been sacrificed on paper while not a word was said about the plane to the public, even though the thousands of tanks and tens of thousands of pipes for the fuel pipelines could not be ignored.

Surely, the Soviet people had a right to know what their fate would be, and why. I couldn't imagine the arrogance of that leadership that had committed a third of its nation to die under the Ogarkov Plan, without anyone being told a word about it. In the USA, of course, the death toll was expected to be much greater. There too, while the facts were known, the news media was silent on the issue. Not a single word about it appeared at any time in any of the papers as if the truth was censored and gagged into silence.

"If only the world would act with the same commitment to honesty and openness, with which Erica had acted," I heard myself say, "then none of this madness would be possible."

I began to realize that Erica had pioneered a principle that could save the lives of humanity, but there was no one sensitive enough to recognize it, much less willing to live by it. And once the secrecy was dealt with, I felt Helen's challenge to accept the universality of love would suddenly confront every one. It seemed to me that this was our only chance to succeed in saving ourselves from a collapse into chaos that we might not survive.

I puzzled what the result would be had the deep dark secrecy surrounding the Ogarkov Plan been revealed publicly in USSR and at home. I felt that the plan would have been canceled instantly by the Russian people's innate sense of Love, rather than by their fear, with the same happening in America. I also felt that if Helen's sensitivity to the fundamental universal principles had ruled in the hearts of society in the first place, the Ogarkov plan would never have been allowed to go forward. In fact, it would never have been perceived. However, as I thought about these things I began to have doubts about America that was fast on the way of becoming a circumcised society, a society that lost its intimacy with itself and its humanity and its sense of a nation, a society that was fast becoming a society of slaves kept in the zoo of empire.

The thing that troubled me most about the Ogarkov Plan was the secrecy that was hiding it. But then what do the zoo animals care about that who have already lost their freedom. I hated the fact that this secrecy was as intensely protected in the West as it was in the USSR. What did the West have to gain from hiding this plan? Several hundred million people were in danger of being murdered, and the government knew it, but this awful knowledge was kept hidden. Why? Were we zoo animals indeed? We had surrendered our freedom to the rule of lies. 'In Lies We Trust!' We had become slaves to ignorance, but slaves nevertheless.

This answer, the only answer that I could think of, was too scary to contemplate. The secrecy that covered the Ogarkov Plan made sense only if this plan was itself an integrated part of the western oligarchy's plan for depopulating the world, which the masters of empire had been talking about for a long time already, as Helen had mentioned, which I had laughed about as being silly. Under normal circumstances the western media that is almost totally owned and controlled by the agents of empire would have become hysterical about Russia's nuclear threats. But in this case the media reported nothing. Marshall Ogarkov's war plan had only been reported in the underground media in the West. This meant that the ruling elite were well aware of the Ogarkov Plan as if it was their own plan, so that the plan was covered up and was carefully concealed from the public. Evidently this was done in order to advance the West's own imperial purposes and its own self-destruction, as the masters of empire had long desired as a means to take control of what is left.

This madness somehow made sense to me. I reasoned that if the controllers of the media wanted to hold off a public outcry that would prevent the empire's plan from bearing fruit, then their best option was to wrap the thing into utter secrecy, precisely as they had done. In this case the silence seemed to cover a self-evident conspiracy to wipe out large sections of humanity in a single orgy of premeditated murder. The almost forgotten imperial doctrine of world-depopulation kept coming ever stronger to mind, the oligarchy's pet objective that had been promoted openly in the 60s and 70s with the goal to cut the world-population back to fewer than a billion people. They didn't say that the depopulation objective was to revive the feudal era. This underlying reason had always been carefully wrapped in secrecy too. I shuddered at the thought, considering the arrogance involved. The Ogarkov Objective suddenly stood out in a new light, carrying forward the old British imperial objective of the Malthusian Poor Laws era into the sphere of world-depopulation that seemed to be still on the books, for which the Soviet's appear to have lent themselves to play the role of a willing pawn.

As I walked back to the car in the dark I became puzzled about still another thing: Had Leroy Anderson been sent to the East to 'sniff' out how far the war preparations for the Ogarkov Plan had progressed in Germany? That would certainly make sense in terms of the larger game plan. I had seen some evidence of the game plan myself, a column of possibly 500 tanks clanking down the autobahn. The huge column had stretched for miles. I lost count after 400. What I saw might have been a part of that evidence. I even wondered if I might not have been sent into the East to spy out some of that evidence, to verify Leroy's story, and to do it innocently in the role of an expendable fool should anything go wrong. Leroy, of course, might have found out infinitely more. He was therefore a highly priced spy whom the controlling powers wanted to have back, badly. Thus, so as not to tip the people off in the East, they sent me, a greenhorn, to negotiate the prisoner exchange. They might have been hoping that sending a greenhorn would lower the profile of the case. I hated the very thought of that, of being used as a pawn for a terrible game, too terrible for mankind to imagine, that my yet come true.

I was disgusted with myself, pondering these dark issues in the darkness of the night. Suddenly I began to fear. I was beginning to fear that the eastern security people might have seen through this scam and had therefore canceled the prisoner exchange altogether. Instead they were now watching me. Perhaps they were now stalling me in order that the West would not get its price nor be alerted of the change in plans.

I couldn't tell if this deep dark scenario was real. I hated the secrecy that covers the whole political game playing. Was this my introduction to the real world?

I went to sleep as soon as I got back to the motel that I had chosen to move to, a small place near the lake that seemed ideally located for my mission at the beach. I had a simple supper at the restaurant, which the motel owners had suggested, a tiny place with only six tables that served the hottest goulash I ever ate. I made a lengthy entry into my logbook that night, about the incident at the beach, but the more I wrote I had this 'burning' feeling that the subject might be too dangerous to put on paper, reminiscent of the burning from the peppers in the goulash that had lingered on. Once I had everything written down, I tore the pages out. What if I were to be captured? I burned the pages. The subject of the report had nothing to do with my mission objective. With this 'peace' in mind, I placed a 'proper' entry into the log, a single line. "Have tried to locate Ursula Fleischer - search unsuccessful."

I met Ursula Fleischer the next day. When I met her, which happened quite early in the morning, I was as unprepared for meeting her as anyone could be. I met her when I came out of the water, returning from a long swim after puzzling over the dark aspects of my mission. I was dripping wet and still disturbed with my lack of progress as far as the mission was concerned. But, suddenly, oh my God, there she was! It had to be her. The moment I saw her, I had no doubts that she was the person I had been looking for, for several days. It had to be her. If there ever was someone who fitted the description perfectly, she was the one. She was taller than most, more slender, only the color of her hair wasn't what I had expected it to be. Still, with the light shining at it in just the right way one could 'almost' see a faint trace of red. Didn't the man at the Rathaus say "almost red?" Something got lost in translation.

"Ursula?" I asked shyly when I came close to where she stood.

She smiled. I must have looked like someone who had just found a long lost friend.

"And you are Peter VanDerMere, "she replied in perfect English.

This time I didn't have to go through my normal routine, Verzeihen Sie bitte.... She reached her hand out to me, "I am Ursula Fleischer. Did I pronounce your name correctly?"

I do not recall what I answered. I probably nodded. Another whole New World suddenly opened up that instant. It was a reality that forcefully invalidated all my dark fears about my mission and the fears of the previous day. I could sense no deception in her manners, or in her voice, her smile, or in anything else about her. Her smile was as warm as the sun. All I could sense was a down to Earth simple honesty that was as naked as she was, as I was, as we all were on this beach.

"You have come here for the Anderson case, right?" she said with a smile.

I nodded. "You knew?" I said.

She smiled in return. "Do you want to talk about it right here at the beach?" she said, avoiding answering my question.

"Here? Why not?"

She captivated me as she made herself comfortable on the sand. "All right, let's talk about Leroy Anderson," I added. I sat down facing her, dripping wet, the sand sticking to me. But what did it matter? The wind was warm. I would soon dry off and the sand would fall away. And if it did not, I could always go into the water again.

"Thank God for Leroy Anderson!" I said to myself, who was the real reason for my being there, and the reason for meeting the wonderful person that I was now facing, someone I was sure I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes off as I had experienced several times already.

"Did you wonder how we found out about Leroy?" she asked.

"That he is an agent?" I replied. Actually, I wasn't really interested in Leroy. The Ogarkov Plan was still too much on my mind, and more than that, it was her beautiful figure that had captured me. She was so much like Helen, in many ways. Leroy ranked low, like an item of no great importance, except for the fact that Leroy had brought me here. In any case, his problem was now as good as solved.

"Right," she replied. "It wasn't difficult, you know, to trap Leroy Anderson." She grinned as she caught me looking at her breasts. "It's not that his cover wasn't perfect," she tried to continue. "His German was good. Also his reasons for wanting to live in the DDR were believable. But his attitude!"

"What about his attitude?" I asked, feasting my soul on her smile.

"The way he talked about the Soviet Union, and us, and the United States."

"Oh, his political attitude?" I interrupted.

"The way he raved about communism was idiotic," said Ursula. "Not that there is anything wrong with idealizing communism. The trouble was, it was the fictional American view of communism that he raved about, which doesn't exist in the real world."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Well one can't win them all. You shouldn't fault him, though, for trying."

"Sure, but to be so naive about it is an insult to ones intelligence. Neither the Soviets nor the Americans are saints or madmen", she said in a very serious tone of voice. "Each of them does what they can." She said that the only thing that interested her is how honest people are about it. She said that this was also the reason why she had invited me to come to the beach. She had to find out what kind of person she would be dealing with, especially since she had learned "not to trust foreign agents too much."

She grinned when she noticed that her body hopelessly captivated me.

"At least you are honest," she said and grinned.

"And what about you? Your staff coerced me into coming here, under your orders no doubt," I replied. I did not speak in a harsh manner, and smiled as I said this, almost as if to say, "thank you for inviting me here."

I paused. I decided to be daring and be honest with her about my feeling fortunate to meet her at this beach. What tragedy it would have been had we met in the starchy environment of an office! "You may not believe this, but I am really glad that you brought me here," I added before she could answer me. "I feel most fortunate that you dared to bent your own rule for that, and not just a tiny bit. So, we both seem to benefit from meeting here."

"Forgive me," she said looking down, "the man who spoke to you at the office did act under my orders. I was there in the office when you hit the counter, boiling mad, before you left the room. I was acting as a typing clerk. You were in no condition to talk with me, then. So tell me, how else could I have invited you to the beach?"

"For observation?" I must have stared at her in amazement. Suddenly she began to smile this wonderful warm smile again, the kind that I felt I would treasure forever.

"I have visited your cities," she said. "I know how you people think and react. Leroy said he was from a farm near the Bodensee, but his eyes were as though he was sitting in a burlesque show in Pittsburgh. He tried to hide it."

"He does come from Pittsburgh," I said quietly. "Burlesque is big business there."

"Now you're beginning to understand what I mean?"

"What a fiend you are," I said and punched her gently. "And how about myself, have I flunked the test also?"

She smiled as I lay down beside her and began drawing figures in the sand, saying nothing. When I looked up at her she smiled, but didn't answer me right away. "You are from Pittsburgh too," she said moments later. "That's what it says in the consul's report on you."

Did I insult her that I didn't mind having been 'invited' to come to the beach for 'observation?' Did she expect protests? Her graceful figure was a treat to behold, almost too much for a chap like me. How could I protest? How could I not love what I saw, and love her honestly about her motives. Had my honesty with her instantly cleared the air so that she didn't object? I was puzzled. Or maybe I did insult her by acknowledging my feelings for her. Isn't that what society objects to? Maybe she did so too, in her own way.

In spite of having met Erica and Helen, I felt like I had been starving myself for many years as Erica had instantly recognized. This wide-open honesty and sharing of one-another that was unfolding there on the beach felt like the tender rain in a dry land. I looked up into her eyes. What a feeling! Was I dreaming? Or had I finally learned to allow me to be honest with myself?

I remembered Erica's dream about the village of universal sharing. Some of that dream was coming true again as it had already come true with Helen. Except, this new unfolding promised to be different. It came with a different brilliance. Oh what a life! What an invitation she had extended to me by asking me to meet her here at this beach where this honesty and openness is possible.

"Pittsburgh is my home city," I said quietly. "That's what my passport says. "Personally I like to see myself as someone coming to you as a human being, if that means anything. If I flunked the test as a human being, then I must apologize."

"No, you didn't flunk the test," she answered moments later, stirring my thoughts again as she grinned.

Was she saying in essence that everything was all right?

"What you said means a lot," she added moments later.

"But, surely, the way I stared at you from the moment we met must have violated every law of conduct that has ever been written."

She nodded. "Yes you violated all of those except one, that of being honest with yourself. Leroy couldn't do that. He didn't allow himself to look at me. It was plain to see that it was hard for him to look away. He denied me, and he denied his own feelings. He denied himself. So, I had to ask myself, what else would he deny?"

"But he acted like a gentleman should," I replied.

"Yes, unfortunately that is a common game. Dishonesty has become a code of honor. What a world we have created!"

"There is less of that evident at this beach, here," I said quietly. "Except, is this a step forward? Or is this merely a step back in time to a simpler age?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't mind men looking at me when they're honest about it. I value being a woman and being recognized and appreciated as such. Of course that isn't an easy position to take, as you can imagine. It often leads to undesirable conclusions. Too many people have lost their sense of honor. To them, everything becomes a game for carving out advantages. People should be enriching one-another's life, and feel enriched by it. Instead, countless games are played for taking advantage of honor and honesty. Leroy wasn't an expert game master by any means. He was actually too honest for that. Nevertheless he was also clearly playing a game with our nation and with me, and not just with himself. That's what gave his identity away as a dangerous man. If he was just playing games with himself, as we all tend to do and often without being aware that we do so, he might have been excused. He wouldn't have been a danger then, except to himself. But he let his games spill over. This qualified him to become a destroyer of worlds. I guess that is what the CIA had hired him for."

"They had hired him as a traitor to the Principle of the General Welfare that our country was founded on," I interjected. "The CIA is a traitorous institution. It is the enforcement arm of the National Security Agency that serves in the war of empire against mankind with the USA being the chief target. To hide its role as an active traitor working to destroy our country it operates under the security blanket of the national secrecy laws. Whatever the empire doesn't want the public to see, becomes hidden as a national security secret. Here no laws apply. In the overall game Leroy was but a little expendable fool. I don't think he caused you any harm. I suppose that whatever he may have learned is public knowledge anyway. Maybe shouldn't judge him harshly. I think we should judge ourselves more harshly for the terrible games that play with ourselves by not being honest with ourselves. We've become slaves than to fantasies were nothing real, but which we pretend to be real because we see no way out of our prison."

"How many nations are stuck in those prisons?" said Ushi. "Does any of them know the way out?"

"I see no evidence of that," I said to her.

It would be a gross understatement if I were to say that I was captivated by Ursula, especially her openness. Maybe something that Helen had said had changed me. Something had made me more open with myself and open towards Love. We were both facing the water, sitting side by side naked as we were, as if we belonged together. Maybe we did belong together in the way that Helen had defined the nature of our being with her lateral lattice. I felt that Helen would have commented on my reluctance to acknowledge this, and have raised her finger, saying, "Well Peter, aren't you both human beings? How much closer can two people get than this?"

One thing was sure, in all my years with the services I had never met a woman like Ursula before, and in more way than one. She treated me like a human being! No other woman would have said what she just said, apart from Erica and Helen.

I looked at her with the same eager eyes with which I had looked at Erica. I even told her about Erica, and how our day had ended, and that I respected Erica for her stand. It seemed that Ursula did understand what I said, and appreciate that I was able to talk to her about it. I also told her about Helen and her wonderful philosophy based on history and the discovered universality of Love. Ursula appreciated my openness in this sharing. She seemed to appreciate all the things that a 'nice' gentleman shouldn't do. She even seemed to appreciate my admiration for other women that I always had felt, but had suppressed before. Her appreciation was easy to see. She was someone open and easy to love, and quite wonderful to be with.

Oh, there it was happening again. I was falling in love one more time; for the third time in four days. Gosh, what was happening to me? I felt wonderful about it, though I almost hated the thought of it. It felt wonderful being in love. On the other hand it seemed quite improper, even thoughtless towards Helen, and Erica too, to fall in love again so soon and so easily. Or was this the way life should be? I thought about all the killing and poverty in the world. Treating one another as human beings with all the respect due seemed to be the only counter-force possible to stop this madness. On this note it seemed important to be honest with myself and with her, and to live like a human being and to be open to Love that is the Light of our humanity. Indeed, why shouldn't we be in Love with our humanity that is reflected in all of us? Would Helen and Erica forgive me for having failed in my small ways on that count?

"Don't be silly!" I heard Helen laugh in my mind. "Why should your honest appreciation of the beauty of another human being dishonor me? You haven't failed."

She would have added, "Peter, that's what I had hoped to make you more sensitive to. We need to become more open to Love in our loving. Open your eyes, Peter, and be assured that I am honored by your expanding acknowledgement of Love that binds us all into one. So, Peter, I am not offended by your loving embrace of other women. By your being in Love and responding to its imperative in your heart honors me. It honors me, because I am a part of the humanity that you embrace in loving and honor in another. This is the proof of the healing that I had hoped you would experience. I had hoped that you would be healed of your self-confined existence. Embrace Love! Cherish the gold! Don't shun it!"

I nodded to myself. Yes, I cherished that thought, and I embraced myself fully. How else could I recognize what a special person Ursula is, someone to be embraced as I embraced myself.

As we sat on the sand, I drank in her smile and closed my eyes now and then. But more than her figure and her smile, the most beautiful thing about her was her sensitivity to honesty. To be with her was a treat. To be touched by her openness made me feel warm and cuddly inside, and comfortable. I could see in her face whether she agreed or disagreed, or had reservations about something, even before she responded in words. Her face revealed where she stood. When something worried her, her expression became instantly a blank. This also became apparent when we talked about Leroy.

In order to extend my visit with her I explored with her all kinds of other topics that had nothing to do with our official business. Of course, she could sense the reason for it. Nor did I try to conceal it. She didn't seem to mind. To the contrary, she seemed to enjoy the explorations that brought out so many facets that interested both of us.

One thing surprised me, though. When the subject shifted to nuclear war, her expression revealed that she was not at the least angry at me, even when I said that my own tax money helped pay for the weapons that might get her killed some day.

"Not just me," she added, "also little Otto over there by the water. Can you see him making mud pies? I can't hate you for what the world does in its ignorance, even if you're a part of it. We're all a part of it, are we not? My hate begins when evil men take it upon themselves to destroy humanity in order to perpetuate their petty, dying, system. But even then, we all share the blame when this happens. Are we not all a part of the world in which this happens? These things happen, because we allow them to happen."

"What do you mean?" I asked. I interrupted her.

She smiled like a schoolteacher might. "The threat of nuclear war isn't something that fell out of the sky, you know," she said. She looked me in the eye to watch my reaction. "Nuclear war is but an element of a chain that has been forged link by link over the last 200 years or more. Everyone stood by and allowed this to happen. The chain has been meticulously forged for an undeniable purpose. In fact, I think we have all forged those links ourselves by being slaves instead of being free to be ourselves."

"Would you by any chance know a retired history professor who thinks the same way?" I interrupted her. "I met a man three days ago who used the same kind of language that you just used. He said there was a class of people left over from the feudal days, which now rule the world financially, who want to dramatically depopulate the Earth. He told me that these people exist from the proceeds of looting the world, and that they must create an atmosphere of poverty in order to maintain their power to loot. He told me that they want to create this poverty by depopulation. You just said something similar. Do you know the man?"

She began to laugh. "Of course, I know him. Who doesn't? Most people think he is an eccentric old fool. He tells everybody that the royals of this world, whoever they are, want to get rid of two thirds of humanity in order to recreate the golden age of feudalism. It is painful to watch how a once-respected university professor has become the laughing stock of the campus. He also drinks."

"But this is not how you see him," I replied. "You seem to respect what he says. You almost quoted the man. Did he show you his book?"

She shook her head slightly. "You must realize that foreign political books are banned in this country, that's why these books are so popular among the academics. Of course, nobody admits to having any. Still, you hear about what people read in them. The academics like to discuss everything. The focus isn't on Truth, but on the popularity of opinions. Sometimes they even realize, though this is rare, that what they read in those western books is nothing more than a carefully crafted concoction of lies to support an ideology that has nothing to do with elevating society, enriching its culture, and uplifting civilization. Most western political books are destructive garbage. They destroyed the professor. The main difference between our destructive garbage and yours in the West is, that we have to give ours away for free while yours fetches a fairly high price that people are eager to pay."

"There was something real about the professor's book that he cherished," I countered her. "Some parts obviously are."

She nodded again. "That makes it scary, Peter. People believe the lies that they are served to be the Truth and react to it as such. The professor understands that a lot of the lies that most people believe in so deeply, are lies. He is not a stupid man. He sees the tragedy. He is also scared of the consequences, because he sees himself as being totally impotent to change anything. He fails to see the tragedy in that. And this, Peter, is a tragedy in itself. It has ruined his life. It turned a giant into a little man."

I agreed that it has. I could also sense that Ursula was serious about this subject. I could see it in her face. I felt that she might be one of the few in the world who could think deeply enough to make the necessary connections to see the reality beneath the surface that society doesn't want to hear about.

"The professor said that people hate you when you tell them the truth," I said to her.

"Depopulation is a very old game," said Ursula. "The royals have been harping about over-population since the late 1700s."

"Ah, I see, you have heard some of his history lectures," I responded to her. "Did you meet the professor in his favorite pub?"

"Oh, you!" she said and smiled. "I attended his lectures at the university. He was my history professor in the olden days. He truly was a giant. Let me tell you, he opened my eyes to a lot of things. It was he who told me that I should become a journalist, because someone who understands the universal history of humanity is fit to understand what is happening in the present. He said that one has to understand the truth, before one is able to recognize the lies, because the lies have become too well crafted. His most profound recognition was that nothing has changed in the way people think. That's why nothing gets corrected. He told me that people live and go about their business with their eyes closed. He said that history should be used like a needle to prick people to get their attention, except even this doesn't seem to work anymore because people have 'too thick' a skin. Nevertheless, he insisted that an understanding of history is required to understand the present."

"I agree," I said, "except for one thing, which changes everything. The historic kings didn't have nuclear weapons. They may have dreamed about depopulation, but they didn't have the means to do it. In some cases they did their best. Still they didn't have the nukes to fulfill their desires. They have them now. The fulfillment of their dark and horrible dreams is now possible. But I think we, who have become sensitive to what it means to be a human being, have the upper hand. And that sets us apart from the professor."

"What sets us apart?" she interjected.

"He doesn't recognize that there are two distinct types of history to be considered," I said quietly. "The irony is that the professor who taught history doesn't know what history really is. He chooses only one form, and the least important one , and the most destructive. He is stuck with that, because this is all he allows himself to know. He sees history as a history of time, of limits that measure our mortality in which is summed up all of the world's little acts, thoughts, believes, opinions, slavery, and also the kind of knowledge that is but another word for error. This kind of history that he knows well is the history of tragedy. It becomes an ever greater as people become possessed by it and act it out. It should be scrapped, because in total contrast stands the real history of mankind. The real history of mankind, in contrast, is the history of unfolding perfection in mankind. Mankind is a part of the Sublime that constitutes the universe. In the real universe Principle and its idea is One, and this One is termed God, the All-in-all. Its Spirit is Love. It is all-harmonizing. Eternity is its measure. One moment in exalted thought drawn from spiritual understanding of Life and Love is a foretaste of eternity. This exalted view is obtained and retained when the Science of being is understood and the dimensions of time, regression, decay, mortality, and so on have no place in consciousness. The Sublime is reflected in the real history of mankind. The 'history' of the eternal: the history of timeless being, the history of sparks of Truth changing the world, the history of the revolution of Light, is the history of the real face of mankind, of the sons and daughters of Light. The history that the professor sees is an inverted form that is focused on others, while real history is an unfolding revolution in individual consciousness. It begins when we stop speaking of time and all its impositions and measurements. When we stop this shallow chattering of nonsense that has nothing to do with our humanity, wars will cease as they must when we find ourselves actively a part of the all-embracing Is that is God. If the professor understood this real face of history he would stand tall as a human being, boldly facing the winds of 'time' and command them to cease. Without society developing this kind of power, it is in grave danger, because then we give power to the enemy, the masters of empire."

"The sheer arrogance of these people is a deadly threat to us alright," said Ursula quietly. "They claim to own our lives, to do with them as they please. They see the world as their private zoo, and the whole world reacts as if it was that. They are a threat to the world, to me, to you, to little Otto, to all humanity. How dare they! They have no right! Nevertheless, we are all a part of the human race that perpetuates the madness by behaving like zoo animals serving 'time' in prison. That is why I have come to disagree with the professor," said Ushi. "As you said, as human beings we have the capacity to change that, to change ourselves, even to change the whole world. By having the capacity to change ourselves, we have the capacity to stop playing the role of animals in a zoo. Do you think I am crazy to be saying that?"

"No, Ursula, you're not. However, I think you may be wrong about the masters of empire, the 'royals.' The 'kings' who would rule the world with fascist hands have reasons to be arrogant because they see the world as a zoo and mankind as but a bunch of dumb animals," I said gently. "Their reaction is natural, because that is what they see. Haven't countless people in the world already sold their soul for a penny and are now eagerly lined up at the whorehouses that are something worse than a zoo, serving the 'royals' on their knees, whoever the 'royals' may be that act as their keepers. I think the keepers despise those who grovel in the dirt for those few petty pennies or scraps of food that the throw at them. That is why the zookeepers have isolated themselves and live glorious lives in stolen palaces where they brag about their cunning in the art of stealing and murdering. And why shouldn't they brag? Their whole dam zoo has become a slave labor camp and a feeding station for their gladiators. What these masters have accomplished is not a small feat, Ursula. They have been at this for a long time, working tirelessly to get mankind to subject itself as slaves to this deadly kind of play-acting that leads to its doom. I must congratulate the 'royals,' the would-be kings of the Earth, because they have succeeded splendidly. But isn't it time for the real history of mankind to come to light?"

"This doesn't change a thing," Ursula replied. "This is just another dimension of the problem."

"But whom does one blame for their deeds?" I said to her.

"Whom do I blame?" she repeated. "I can't blame the Martians. They don't live here. However, we live here. What happens here is a human problem. You are right on this. We human beings have to take care of it? This means all of us are responsible. The 'royals' only have as much power as we give them. As you said, the real history of mankind unfolds outside the zoo. Its measure is freedom. I agree with you on that. The professor sees a history in which freedom is taken away. I agree with you that freedom cannot be taken away, but it is given away by small-minded people who like to play the role of slaves."

We were both silent after this. I had actually managed to shock myself with my own ignorance as I began to discover some scraps of the Truth that Helen had understood much more completely. Her focus on honesty seemed to draw the Truth out of the hidden recesses in me. I had used the little understand that I had gained to put some light on the horizon in my dealing with Ursula. Now it seemed that she moved with this light farther than I had anticipated. I shocked myself, because the new perception closed the door to the old history.

I had planned to mention to her that the prime promoters for the development of the atom bomb were also the prime promoters of the depopulation ideology. This arena had once been my specialty in researching history. It wasn't exactly a part of my diplomatic training, but intelligence schools are also hotbeds for things that one is not supposed to learn, like who was the driving force behind the development of nuclear weapons. I could have told Ursula the name of the foremost imperial activist, Bertrand Russell, who fought to make the atom bomb a reality. This man had been situated high up in the ranks of the aristocracy. I would have reminded Ursula that we were living in the Twentieth Century. I would have suggested to her that it is certainly within the means of the kings of our time to create the kind of virus that their prince of empire had hoped to become who had bragged that he desired to be reincarnated as a particularly deadly virus in order to solve the imperial's problem caused by a growing and developing human population.

I would have reminded Ursula that the zookeepers had all the resources needed, and the high-minded cruelty, to create the desired virus that their prince wanted to be, and to spread this artificially created virus far and wide across the planet. Indeed, their virus was already taking shape in the form of new pandemic diseases such as AIDS, or in the form of nuclear war that was still in the developmental stage, or in the form of religious warfare that was once again being promoted as being inevitable as a kind of war that is easily created but never ends. Weren't the 'royals' tirelessly at work to create the conditions for all of these types of attacks against humanity?

I would have told Ursula also about the hidden high level people and institutions in the West whose track record covered by secrecy would have made the Soviet KGB appear like saints. I couldn't speak about these things now as they weren't part of the real history of mankind, but were mere shadows of failures.

I did tell her about one thing, however, which was related to the 'royal' zookeepers' arrogance. I told her that the same highly placed aristocrat that had lobbied for the building of the atomic bomb had lamented in a book that wars are disappointing, because they don't reduce the populations. He had written this a few years after the end of World War II in which a hundred million people had died or had their life destroyed. He had lamented that not even the big world wars had accomplished enough in killing populations as his masters demanded. I told Ursula that this aristocrat arrogantly suggested that biological warfare might succeed where conventional wars have failed. I suggested to her that the insanity of that man might have been the underlying reason why he had lobbied so hard for the development of the nuclear bomb.

Ursula's response was a blank stare. Maybe I had disappointed her. Maybe I had pushed the envelope too far. I decided to change the subject, but no alternate subject came to mind. Everything else seemed trivial compared to it, except the Truth that was still too vague a concept. The fact remained that none of what I said pertained to her argument that we all share in the blame for maintaining the kind of world in which these things are allowed to happen. I had argued for a false sense of humanity and its history in time. I had to ask myself if what I said was true in real history. Sure the man that demanded death had been honored around the world for his 'wisdom' as one of the greatest 'pacifists' of his time? The real history, the history of eternity, invalidated the demands for death and all the time-related chattering in which society argues against itself.

Ursula remained quiet now. I knew I had to change the subject, urgently. This should have been easily done. I was the trained diplomat that should be able to change the conversation in an instant. The attempt seemed to work at first.

"Do you mean this mud lark over there is your kid?" I ended the silence. "He's a cute little boy."

She shook her head quietly. "He belongs to a friend of mine. We are like family to each other."

I nodded.

"You were playing with him yesterday by the mud hole for a few minutes," she said and smiled again. "Do you remember that? And before that, you walked by us several times looking for someone with reddish brown hair. You kneeled down and patted little Otto on the back when you came by us a second time. This was so sweet of you. I don't know if you remember that, but you looked at me then, and smiled. I smiled back at you, which seemed to make you happy. I couldn't tell you who I was. You were frightened by something. I had to give you enough time to work this out. My motive was to help you by letting you be. And it worked. You didn't seem frightened anymore today. On this basis we could link up. Linking up isn't possible when people regard each other as enemies. But you didn't follow this trend. So, Peter, how could I think of people such as you and I as mortal enemies? We are too sensitive to be enemies. People like us can't be enemies. Human beings are not natural enemies. Someone has turned the world upside down and created enemies for sinister purposes where none existed before. I think this is what you were scared about yesterday after listening to the men speak about the Ogarkov Plan. I had to give you time to invalidate this nonsense in your consciousness as is natural for a human being to do."

"Of course we aren't enemies," I replied. "We are both victims of the same plot and the same insanity that lets this thing happen. I know that. We both know that. Unfortunately there are far too few of us. The forgers of the plot want humanity to behave like bitter enemies in the hope that the big and powerful nations will annihilate each another."

"I don't think this will happen," said Ursula. "I also think you should know the reason why."

"Now you have me puzzled," I replied. This was getting interesting, and opened another avenue to explore that would keep us together longer. "Why should I know the reason?" I said quietly.

"Isn't it obvious?" she said and smiled. "The weapons of war have become too powerful to be useful. "How many were killed during your Civil War back in the mid 1800s? That when the weapons started to become too powerful for the human dimension. I believe that close to a million people were killed. In World War the war machine was a mechanized industrial machine. Ten to twenty million were killed and an entire continent was so horribly destroyed that the great flu pandemic erupted in the quagmire and killed another fifty million. Thirty years later World War II improved on this, in which a hundred million were killed. Now after a few decades after what we called peace, with the weapons labs working overtime, mankind has amassed an arsenal that no one can survive. The atomic arsenal can incinerate the planet, the biological weapons arsenal has at least a dozen deadly viruses standing ready to go for which no cures exist or are possible. And then the labs have developed uranium weapons that explode into invisible dust that fill the air with deadly radiation that remains deadly for billions of years. We have such an immense stockpile of this insane weaponry amassed that we can eradicate each other to the last person on the planet, and do this many times over in several different ways, and probably kill all life in the process. Once that ejaculation of madness begins, Peter, no one can survive the outcome. Nor is it likely that the ejaculation of death can be halted part way through its course. Can you halt your sexual ejaculation once it begins, Peter? I'm sure you can't. I have yet to know a man who is able to do this. I have a feeling that even the most insane people know that this can't be done in the ejaculation of war either. For this reason the great ejaculation of war won't happen. That's what I think. This would be World War III that everyone knows deep inside, ends everything. For this reason it simply won't happen."

"Of course well all have a role to play to assure that it won't happen," I said to her. "We have to assure that sanity prevails and maybe for that imperative we need to develop a higher-level platform for our own loving. A scientific platform for loving might be required."

"You are saying that the destiny of mankind shouldn't be left to chance," said Ursula. "I agree. That's what sets us human beings apart from any animal in the field. We do have that capacity with our mind to direct out destiny. Of course the insane have that capacity too, and they use it while the general society has put itself to sleep with dreams of impotence so that it fails to use its potential."

"If what you say is true, that makes our job easy," I said and began to laugh. "Lets become rebels then and wake everybody up. Let's make a hell of a lot of noise. Let's start a revolution. Mankind's real enemies are the masters of the game who live in royal palaces far from the hurt they impose on people. Let's put some gravel into their gears. They may not be called kings anymore, as they were in the past, but they still lay claim to the same rights that kings once claimed as what they called their divine privilege. They still steal from humanity, enslave humanity, subject humanity to hopeless poverty, and murder it as they please. That's what the oligarchs of today do, playing themselves up zookeepers. Let's shout NO! They deny humanity the right to self-development and the means for it. Let's close the door on them and develop our human potential. They run their show by imposing destructive demands. They murder to maintain their power, and they stand up and say that it's all for the good of the world. I tell you, they despise humanity with the deepest contempt. Let us counter their despising us with a wave of loving one-another universally, and ourselves too. They despise Russia as deeply as they despise America. They play one off against the other and watch both squirm. Let's join hands against them while we still can. They are reaching for mankind's throat even while they call themselves noble and have the blood of their victims freshly dripping from their hands. Those are the real enemies of mankind, Ursula. People like us are not enemies. We can forbid them and arrest them. The nations of the world aren't enemies either. They are all together victims. They are taught to pretend to be enemies and to play this role obediently, and I might add, they play it well. But, this is stupid, isn't it? We should be in Love with each other, you and I, and the whole of mankind. At least this is the way I feel. Love heals many things. Isn't the real history of mankind the history of the unfolding of Love in society? It began with the Principle of the General Welfare that came to light through the Renaissance and unfolded with it an element of the all-encompassing Principle of Universal Love that appears to be the Principle of the universe."

"Are you suggesting that we should fall in Love and fight the world together?" she asked, then started to laugh. "That, certainly would by a novel idea. Except it won't work. The greatest nations in the world proved to be helpless against the 'royals.' Just look at China. The British Empire and its rich oligarchic families, many of which had their roots in the slave-trading days, nearly destroyed China as a nation. They opened the door for dope profits. They destroyed China to gauge out an opulent living for a few of the wealthy people that make up the empire. China could not stem the British forces. It lost in excess of ten million people during the opium wars and in the orgies of violence that was created in the aftermath. Who are we compared to them, Peter, that we could stand against such a force? There must be a better way."

"We are the superior force," I said to Ursula and laughed. "Don't say it won't work. It will work." I surprised myself with saying this. "The Chinese lost the Opium Wars because they had no foundation for protecting themselves. China didn't stand on the Principle of the General Welfare. China was a kingdom made up of subjects, slaves, and a class of rulers. The USA is moving in that direction. But we are not there yet. We haven't yet lost all sense of intimacy as a nation. Sure, America has been circumcised and turned into slaves. But the real history of mankind unfolds at a higher level, and so does America's. The real history of mankind reflects the Principle of the universe that can neither be circumcised nor be ignored, or be smothered with lies. That makes us a superior force if we care the express the Principle of our being.

"The term 'royals' applies to the impotent only," I continued. Evidently it doesn't apply in the annals of the real history of mankind. Empire is the scientific word for poverty, because empire has no power to maintain itself. It depends on stealing for its very existence. Its stooges, small and tall, are slaves who do the empire's bidding. They have infested the houses of governments, international institutions, the halls of justice, science, and education. They twist the very culture of society into compliance with their master's dictates. This is what most of the newspapers do, and the television chains. That's what the old professor must have meant when he told me that people hate you when you tell them the Truth. The controllers of the world hate people who dare to counter their lies, and they make everyone else hate them too. That's also the area in which the royal masters of the world are most vulnerable, because they can't change the Truth that invariably defeats them. We can advance this defeat of them. They can't avoid the Truth. Let's focus on it. They hate their impotence. Let's defeat them on their weak flank. They can only shield humanity from knowing the Truth. Let's publish the Truth. People like you and I could poke a hole through their shield of lies. This shield is not an iron curtain. The human being has the capacity to scientifically recognize and understand the Truth. The smoke-and-mirror curtain of empire can be penetrated by people like us if we are in Love with one-another and our humanity, and with the Truth."

Ursula shook her head. "That won't happen easily. How can you fight the masters of the plot when you can't even tell what their plot is? There are so many games being played all at once, with so many hands stirring the caldrons for the numerous games, while the controllers of the games, themselves, remain invisible. How can you counter that? I know our hope lies in changing the underlying fabric of society, but how do it?"

"Hey Ursula, that one is easy," I countered her. Now my diplomatic training was becoming useful. "Look at the problem with an eye out for the Truth. We are human beings, you and I. We know that society has the capacity to treat one-another as human beings. Can't we implement what has remained dormant for far too long, by taking the lead and fall in Love with one another for our humanity. In a sense you are right, we can't start this, because it's already under way."

"Oh you fiend!" she said and grinned.

"Am I not right?" I countered her. "The game masters, whoever they may be, become visible by their lies and by their lack of humanity. By us loving one-another for our humanity, their rejection of Love will stand out more plainly. When this happens on a wide enough scale society will begin to refuse to dance to the zookeepers' arrogant bidding. When people become human again they will reject the zookeepers' demand to set the world on fire for them. I think, Ursula, that two people like us can be a sufficient force to change the world if we can shift the focus onto the Truth in which Love is a factor that cannot be ignored but becomes a power."

I reached my hand out to her. "The only power that the royal zookeepers have is the power that humanity gives them. This is the power they wield, which is arrogantly redirected back against humanity itself. Surely, this can be changed. Let's be a team. We can help each other to change our nations, both from the East and from the West. All we have to do is convince our people that most of the wars in history were created by an utterly impotent force, the 'royals,' who have to beg for their power, by whose bidding humanity has set itself against each other for its self-destruction."

Ursula had to laugh, here. "And how are we going to do this? Where would we start? Still, I can tell you honestly that I know you are right. You also confirmed to me the reason why I could never feel any animosity against America, because its people are too naive for the role of a serious enemy. You're not the would-be masters of the world. You are too human. America has a rich humanist background that is a far greater force than most people realize. But like everybody else, America is drawn into this game of playing zoo, as you have put it, without being aware of it. So how can you talk about deflating the game if you are not committed to raising the sensitivity of your people to such a level that the game appears ugly to them? That's what I mean with being naive. You are asleep. Love doesn't unfold that way. Love is the default condition for people that are awake. But waking up is an active process. Are you committed to it? People who are not committed allow the humanity to be stolen from them."

"Aren't you a bit naive yourself," I asked, "by being disturbed when I speak about Love. I am in Love with you, Ursula. That is the fact. Still, my saying so seems to make you feel uncomfortable."

She raised her hand, but said nothing.

"All right, perhaps it is I who is naive, like the whole of America," I conceded, "but I can tell you this, there is no conspiracy brewing in the hearts of America, against Germany, or Russia, or anyone else. I think people are looking for Love in America, but they are tied into knots by too many barriers. I believe the same is true about your people. I think we don't know anymore what it means to be in Love, since that's been largely forbidden."

"I like to know how you propose to do what you just told me needs to be done," she said, "so that our nations will stop playing their masters' games."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, Ursula," I replied. "I am as naive as you are. All that I can see, is that it needs to be done, and that someone better start doing something along that line pretty soon," I added. "Why shouldn't this someone be us? Can't we open the door to discovery?"

"You are all right, Peter," she said and smiled. "Still, you are as naive about this as we all are. Nevertheless, you are like a breath of fresh air and I love you for it. You may be naive, but you are able to comprehend things that most people can't. Of course you Americans are at a disadvantage, because you expect everything to fall into place quickly and easily. That doesn't happen in the real world, Peter."

"If people don't act, who will guide our governments?" I asked. "If our governments were to give themselves the freedom to move with what their populations feel deep in their heart as human beings, then the world would be an infinitely safer place. But this is not how the universe is designed to operate. Principle and its idea in one, and this one is reflected in mankind. The leadership is in mankind, in society. You can't put the cart before the horse. It doesn't work that way. The horse is society. That is where leadership unfolds. Don't look to governments for leadership. Society needs to develop an understanding of Principle and move with it to determine the necessary policy that reflects its highest understanding of Principle. That's where leadership begins. Then society needs to look for qualified candidates that it elects to implement its policy. If society looks to governments for leadership it anoints a dictator over it and surrenders its freedom and puts itself into slavery. That's the current state of the world."

She agreed with a smile.

In response to her smile I told Ursula an ancient Native-American story. I told her the story of a magic canoe that could take its riders instantly to where they wanted to be. "The legend has it that such a canoe could sustain many tribes with fish and game, indicating that man's freedom to move and life itself, are as one." I told her that the story applies at the mental level, too. "Maybe that's what makes us Americans naive, and the Russians, too. We don't give ourselves the freedom to move. We demand governments to do the moving for us. We create the dictators that render the nations as enemies. We abolish our freedom. We don't have to do this."

She nodded in agreement and reached out for a handshake. "Russia is not your enemy," she replied, "and neither are we."

"Nor is America the enemy of mankind," I added.

She spoke with a warm, gentle smile while our hands engaged. She was indeed a most beautiful person to be touched by. The warmth of her smile was a brightness that no boundaries could hold back.

"What about your government?" I asked her while we were holding each other's hands. "Would your government be able to move on this issue as far as we have today, on this beach?" I asked.

"She shook her head. They are all blinded by what's happening in the foreground. They can't see what stands behind it. You must forgive their blindness. When society rejects its own leadership and its own freedom, it puts its government into an impossible and highly unnatural situation. I can recognize this stranglehold as we have explored it, but they can't. Consequently they are scared and oppressive. It's actually dangerous to talk about this openly. In this respect," she said, "the beach is an oasis. People are not enemies, here. The atmosphere that we cultivate here makes people more honest and a bit more human."

"Are you saying that you are afraid in your own country?" I asked.

"I am less afraid now," she grinned, "for knowing that there is one more person in the world fighting the same war," she replied. "But don't get me wrong, I don't blame our governments for making everybody scared. As I said, they are scared themselves. They are not fundamentally malicious. They're stupid, childish, yes, but one can't order people to be intelligent, can one? One can only try to live as intelligently oneself as one possibly can; provided one knows what Intelligence is."

"Ah, but communism doesn't help," I replied. "The freedom to move is only hindered by communism. Communism was created by the British Empire as a Trojan Horse to wreck Russian from within."

She looked up and started to laugh. "Now that's a strange one coming from someone whose country is champion in political brainwashing," she said. She looked around, as if she had said too much already. "You should hear yourself speaking. You're sounding like Leroy," she said and began to laugh out loud. "It's you Americans who know all the answers, but you can't move either."

Oh, this little change in focus gave me the opportunity to talk about a topic that could keep our conversation going for a long time, as if one could find nothing better to do on a sunny afternoon on the beach, than talking politics and getting angry about a bunch of faceless 'royals' that we couldn't even identify. Of course I was prepared to talk about anything, just to keep her there with me. If talking about brainwashing would accomplish that it was fine with me. Also, I was amazed that she knew almost more about my own country and me, than I did myself. She taught me things about myself that day that I was totally unaware of, and she did it in the kindest manner.

"About the brainwashing," she said, "it is more honest in the East than in America. It is more honest here, because it is so blatantly vulgar. In the East everybody is aware of it. People make jokes about it and resist it. In the West the ablest professionals do the brainwashing. Their work is done so imperceptibly that hardly anyone is aware that it is happening. It's done with great finesse, under the guise of human nature, often in the context of religion, or in the name of free enterprise. Of course it is always designed to appeal to the blue-blooded, down to Earth, apple pie Americanism that has become a mantle to cover the sins. Did I say this right?" she grinned.

She said brainwashing is so subtle in the West that people become transformed by it. Then, when it comes to the test, when people suddenly are demanded to be ready and eager to lay their lives on the line for what they've been instructed to believe in, they will readily do it.

I dismissed this as absurd and asked if this scare tactic was imbedded in the Ogarkov Plan, and whether she might have accepted some of it.

She looked at me puzzled.

"I overheard someone talk about it on the beach," I said quietly.

Her face lit up; "You must have been listening to students from the political science department. They're teaching military strategy as part of a course."

She smiled as I let out a sigh of relief. "But brainwashing is serious," I added.

She nodded. "I nearly brainwashed myself into believing I was cut out to be journalist," she said. "I firmly believed I had to be somebody important for my life to be worthwhile, and that journalism would give me some influence over how the world moves."

"Oh, you wanted to move the world closer to the Truth?" I asked.

She nodded, then shook her head. "There is no free press anywhere on the planet," she said. "In my part of the world the press is owned by the state, and the state dictates what the Truth is, and in your part of the world the press is owned by the 'royals' and their agents, and they determine what lies are to be printed as the truth. Once I realized this, I realized that there is no point in being a journalist."

Now, there was something we could talk about for a long time, journalism! "The 'royals' are the New World Order, Ursula. In the West, journalism exists to describe the New World Order, not to change it. It exists to enforce it. There is no free journalism in the West, except a tiny bit that exists unofficially and operates under ground. Official journalism is a tool for stating doctrine. Its purpose is brainwashing. It is probably the same in your part of the world."

She nodded slightly.

I celebrated this agreement. I would have talked about Grimm's fairy tales, if that would have made her stay with me all day, so captivating was her presence. I even ignored the pain on my back as I was getting pink. She commented on it and gave me some suntan lotion, which probably came much too late, but I didn't care. I simply turned over when the pain became too great.

She talked about her experiences with brainwashing in Afghanistan, China, Nicaragua, Lebanon - some of her most sensational assignments. Three times she had covered the Middle East for her government as an intelligence agent disguised as a journalist during the major conflicts there. Often the brainwashing that she encountered came from the West.

The only conflict she didn't talk about was Vietnam. I asked for her opinion. She said it happened before her time and that she knew too little about it, except that President Kennedy was assassinated by the 'royals' three days after he had ordered the withdrawal of the American troops from Vietnam. Without the assassination changing the direction of America there would not have been much of a war in Vietnam, or no war at all, and the millions of people that were killed would still be alive.

"The Vietnam War was an unspeakable human tragedy in every respect," I commented. "It was one of the worst of this century. When Kennedy had tried to prevent it he was simply run over by the forces of the New World Order. His assassination ended the Old World Order. The New World Order became like a steam roller that ran over all the progressive movements that promised a new future for many developing nations, especially in Africa. President Kennedy was one of many that were cut down by assassinations that ushered in the New World Order."

"Obviously, you haven't been in El Salvador or in Afghanistan," Ursula said to me. Her face became a blank. "The very humanity of society was being assassinated there, not just a few progressive leaders. This was brainwashing at its deepest level what I saw there. Life had become so cheap there, it still makes me sick to throw up at times when I think of it," she said. "The buzzword was always communism, or capitalism, or religion. The brainwashing had become an impersonal hatred that fed the flames wherever there was serious fighting going on. It was whispered in dark places. It kept the murdering going. And when this no longer worked efficiently, ethnic conflicts were dredged up and exploited for creating wars. Lots of people got caught in the flow of it and were murdered for nothing at all. Even the military gets caught up in this madness. Soldiers are people, too."

She told me she had observed the Red Army in Afghanistan. She had been there for two months; "It was heartrending," she said.

I could feel by her voice that this phrase must have been an understatement.

"Then you've witnessed the bitter fighting, there?" I asked.

"Bitter fighting!" she laughed in scorn.

She told me of a birthday party she had been invited to, the Major's 40th birthday. Her face became lifeless as a stone when she spoke of it. She said that this birthday party had cost three thousand people their life. Six soldiers had been sent to town for 'supplies,' which meant stealing whatever they wanted or were able to find. Not a single soldier returned. The word filtered back that the rebels had killed them. Among the dead was the Major's brother, a young Lieutenant of the Special Forces who was leading the group. She told me that the party exploded in a rage for revenge. The Major ordered that very night that the town be exterminated. By nightfall not a soul was alive in this place of three thousand people. Its name was Kohlm, a frontier town in the North.

Ursula fell silent after this for a long time, but her face remained tense. When she spoke again she said that three thousand casualties might not amount to much in our modern age of mass violence, but it means immensely more when one sees the aftermath. She told me that she had visited the place only two weeks earlier. She had talked to the people, photographed their children, and eaten with their community leaders. She had even interviewed some of the rebels.

She told me that she had bribed her way onto the reconnaissance chopper in the morning after the killing. She found a wasteland of death. She saw children lying in the streets, women and men, shot on the spot.

"Naive as I was," she said sadly, "I went back to the places I knew, to the houses where I had been invited to for tea, to the family that I had grown fond of. I found them all. I found one of the mothers with her three children. They were all dead, laying on the ground in front of their house. The mother still held the smallest in her arms, a little girl barely two years old. Both had been shot. It appears they tried to flee. I also went back to the house of the community leader, a bright and alert young man who had proudly shown me around his town and had talked fondly of its people and the land. He had invited me one late afternoon to his favorite swimming spot at the foot of a waterfall that had created a small bowl in the rock at its base. I can still see him standing at the ledge of the pool against a backdrop of Blue Mountains as he exclaimed about the beautiful life he had, and the freedom this open country gave him. He said he felt as free as the birds, and perhaps more so because the spirit he had in him allowed him to embrace the whole world. I found the young man again, his arms tightly wrapped about his aging father as if to protect him with his own body, or to have one last embrace. It appears his body offered no protection against the penetrating force of the bullet of a large caliber riffle. The bullet became lodged behind them in the post of the porch of their respectable house that he had been so fond of."

She said that nobody really cared about the dead. They just left them there. "A rebel stronghold, pacified," she said, "was the official entry in the army's journal."

"Now tell me about brainwashing," she added grimly and sat up. "Tell me you can just shrug it off!"

I couldn't answer. I was stunned. I stood up and motioned her that we should go for a walk. I reached my hand out to her to help her up.

She said moments later that what she had just told me had been by no means exceptional. Empty fields, bombed out homes, destroyed irrigation systems were all common sights that remained as silent testimonials of untold atrocities. "And still, the war went on," she said. "War had become a way of life."

"What you saw was not the response of human beings in an intimate response with one-another as human beings," I said emphatically. "What you saw was the response of a 'circumcised' people that have been robed of their humanity. That's the effect that brainwashing has. It steals a person's very soul and leaves an emptiness that opens a person to fascism. Fascism is artificial. There exists no equivalent in the natural world. It is a myth that is not a part of the real history of mankind that reflects the unfolding of the Principle of the universe. Principle and its idea is one, and this one is Love and Truth, the Spirit of the Intelligence that is at once the universe and its manifest - the very Light of Life and the Soul of its intimacy. The history of murder by brainwashing has nothing to do with anything that Is. It is a history of lies that should be removed from consciousness and from the social agenda. Wars won't stop until this is done. Wars are movements in the prisons of time where the eternity of Principle is denied. The victims of war are generally dead long before the fatal bullet seals their homemade fate."

Ushi said that some of warriors were aware of this. She said she had talked to one of the Mujahideen freedom fighters, a young man who proudly showed her his wounds. She had asked him, "Would you ever consider fleeing to Pakistan as many of your people have done?" His answer had been a resolute, no! "Why should I go there, there is no war in Pakistan?" he had told her.

She said, he had told her that they didn't have the fancy kind of weapons the Soviets had, still they had put up a respectable fight with the little they did have. "So, why should I flee?" he had asked her. He said he liked it where he lived. But most of all, there was war in Kandahar, a war where he still has a chance to be free and fight for the freedom of his people."

"Unfortunately, war means killing," she added, "and killing becomes a means for gaining control."

I argued with her on this point. "Every war that has been created over the last two hundred years has been created to prevent human progress. Ultimately, war has nothing to do with gaining control, except perhaps as a means for dehumanizing the whole world. Control is an artificial means for maintaining the face of empire that claims to be a power while it has no power in itself."

What I said seemed to be a new revelation to her about the nature of control of empire over people, something she hadn't considered.

I added that the people of the New World Order don't care about gaining control. They already have total control, which enables them to be an empire. "They care more about preventing the advance of the civilization that would dethrone them and take away their control that empire is built on. Feudalism and its fascism can't exist in an advanced civilization that controls itself along the line of its Principle. The masters of empire can't keep scientifically aware human beings in a zoo. It doesn't work. Nobody knows this better than the masters of empire, the masters of the New World Order. The history of human freedom goes back to the Golden Renaissance when the League of Cambrai was formed to wipe the Venetian Empire off the map. That's what the old professor told me in the bar that night. The 'royals' never forgot their near defeat and what caused it. They will make sure that it won't happen again. They are in control of society now and aim to keep it that way. They know that they can only keep people in their zoo when they can get them to behave like primitive animals whereby they become slaves. That is what the security of empire rests on."

Ursula said that she knew this. She said that it doesn't help to make the pain go away. "It doesn't heal anything. It is too remote."

"Did you ever realize that none of what you saw has anything to do with any form of nationality, Russian or Afghani. What you saw, evidently wasn't the result of nationalism or ethnic hatred, not even revenge. It was the result of insanity; sheer insanity; plain and simple insanity."

I told her that I wasn't talking about a babbling idiot's kind of insanity. I told her that I was referring to the 'intelligent insane.' I described them as people who are able to think as human beings, but refuse to do so; who rush into action, but are too dull to consider the consequences. They are human beings, but refuse to act in a human manner.

"Aren't we all a bit like that?" she asked. "It appears that we are, and probably more often than not. How often have we seen someone in need, Peter, and walked by on the other side? That's insanity, too."

I nodded. "I know, I know. If it were not so, prostitution wouldn't exist."

"You devil, you have a one-track mind! I wasn't referring to that," she replied and punched me gently. "Of course, you are correct," she added. "Lucky for us, we don't stone the people to death anymore that we find in need of some human intimacy. We merely call them immoral and slander them with ugly words."

"And if it happens to ourselves, we deny our humanity, our feelings and ourselves, and all for the sake of honor," I added.

"That's insanity, too," she agreed.

"But you are not like that. You invited me to be honest with myself, and you are not offended by it," I said and began to grin. "You have no idea how wonderful that feels. Maybe that is what sanity is all about. It manifests itself in people being human. Maybe it is the atmosphere at the beach here that causes this effect. Just look at us. We are as naked as we were born. Nothing is hidden. Nothing is concealed. And listen to us talk. We speak the same kind of language, honestly, openly, unencumbered by barriers. I don't think any of that would be possible in a conventional setting. In a conventional setting people hide behind so many layers of myths and artificial veils that they can barely speak to each other at all, except perhaps to play games. Is it any wonder than that there is so little honesty and peace in the world?"

"Obviously, that's what the zookeepers want," said Ursula.

"Ah, but here on the beach we find us free to treat each other as human beings, because that is what we are. Here I can say to you that I am in Love with you and you can answer me with a smile instead of with a frown. You can smile at me and speak in return of being in Love likewise, and this in spite of the fact that we are married to different families, and different countries, and different political backgrounds. But all this fades away into nothing here. The only thing that remains is the simple fact that we are two human beings, you and I, and that comes to light as something profound and wonderful. You have no idea how wonderful it feels to be treated like that. I can feel a sense of Love unfolding that is like a great wave of Light. I can't help suspecting that this wave will be felt in many dark places where this Light inspires joy that may be urgently needed. I can even say that the gentle loving that I feel unfolding between us is a much more profound peace-feast than a million-men-march could ever be in protest against war. I think I can say with certainty that if all the peace marchers would make a consecrated effort to see and treat one another as human beings with all the encumbering crap removed that presently smothers them, the resulting wave of Love would alter the world. It would stop all wars."

Ursula began to beam with a brilliant smile as I said this. "And it would bring its Light to the social scene across the world as we have never seen it before," she added.

My talking about Love did more than just bring smiles to her face again. She seemed happy again. That tremendous change wasn't expected. Obviously the horrors she had witnessed had left deep scars. Of course I welcomed the transformation. I welcomed to see her smile again. Maybe I had caused a healing of some sort, without knowing that I had? I put my arm around her shoulder as we went for a stroll. This was the closest I came to hugging her. A real hug seemed quite out of the question, with us both being totally naked. I would have loved to hug her, of course, and might have dared to do so if this had appeared even remotely possible in my mind.

I had to laugh at myself suddenly. Was that really impossible? Why couldn't I hug her? According to what Helen had said, it should be possible. But how could I make it so? Could I dare to test the possibilities? And if not, was that groundless inhibition a form of 'intelligent insanity' that denied our humanity and our evident desire to embrace it? As it was, I didn't dare to do what seemed so daringly forward, but intelligently right. I argued against myself, and against us.

We walked for a short distance in this partial embrace that seemed daring enough. We went towards the water. I tried to formulate another reply to help her forget the horrors that our conversation about war had brought to the surface. I was hoping that this might yet lead to a full hug. I was a trained diplomat. A response of this kind should have been forthcoming without me having to think about it. Except our being together wasn't a diplomatic game, the kind I had been trained for. This was a deeply human situation. What was unfolding seemed way out of my league. That is also while I failed in the end. A simple moment of lapsed attention allowed the superficial aspects to become dominant again, for which the subject of war was dragged back into the foreground.

"You have witnessed the kind of warfare that unfolds when there are no cultural restraints left," I said to her. We had come to the water at this point. We simply sat down in the sand as children do, but sadly, not to make sand castles.

I suggested to Ursula that it had taken Adolf Hitler nine years to grind down the human cultural restraint that had existed in the population against his brutal war-plans. I suggested that Hitler wasn't that stupid that he couldn't see the deep-seated humanist feelings that the great German culture had created. The cultural strength had inhibited his goals. He may have sensed that he couldn't just run roughshod over all of the human feelings that people like Schiller and Goethe had built up in the population. He simply couldn't move against that restraint. That restrained made him impotent. He had to break the restraint down, before he could create his 'Nazi Zoo' and carry out his objectives. Hitler understood this. His supporters understood this. Even his masters understood this. He understood that the German culture was his biggest enemy. I reminded Ursula that it took Hitler until 1942 to fully do away with that hindrance. "It took nine patient years to build that zoo," I said. "Only then, when the cultural destruction was complete, was he able to implement the full scope of the atrocities that he had planned from the beginning and had written about."

I also suggested to Ursula that the Vietnam War appears to have been staged for essentially the same kind of purpose, a purpose that Hitler would have understood. I suggested that this war was arranged to be fought in such a manner that it would grind down the cultural resistance in America against the planned Anglo/Dutch/American world emporium, which the New World Order required to be established without fail.

"Vietnam wasn't the target then," said Ushi with a note of surprise.

"The Vietnam War was designed to become a power tool for destroying America's culture that would subsequently enable the establishment of the great American Zoo," I interjected. "President Kennedy would have never allowed this. He saw it coming and ordered it to be stopped. So they countermanded his orders and killed him." I added that the zoo itself became still another tool. "Unless people can be brainwashed to see themselves as nothing more than animals, the whole depopulation scheme won't fly. But it did fly in Hitler's era. The zookeepers became highly effective in making it work. The fascist 'song' continued to dull the masses for years and decades after Hitler had lost the game and killed himself. Almost the whole western society was soon singing the extended fascist song, the depopulation song, as requested. The people were singing this song from their heart, around the world, since everybody 'knew' that animal herds need to be culled as a means to manage their numbers? The depopulation sung was invented by a monk in the service of Venetian Empire and was published in the very year that U.S. Constitution was enacted. The song for culling the human herd was designed to counter the American freedom. Now it is being regurgitated as a song for the depopulation of Third-World nations. For America, the song for depopulation currently means deindustrialization. That is its first stanza designed for America. Much of that has already happened, just as the song inspired. It began with the Vietnam War for which the Apollo Moon Landing program was cancelled..."

"Oh my God, Peter," Ursula cut me off. "You are saying that the Vietnam War had provided a perfect cover for the imperial game masters to create the kind of cultural shock that the depopulation objectives required."

"The shock turned the American society culturally into animals without them being aware of it," I replied. "They all began to sing their animal song. The real targets were the American people and not the Vietnamese people. Vietnam then, was merely a target of convenience, nothing more. Is that what you are saying?"

I nodded. I said something to the effect that quite a few people have come to see the Vietnam War that way. I told her that even America's so-called peace movement, which had been organized in conjunction with this war, had been set up in the same context in order to provide a second-stage cultural shock. That was also the time when the circumcision took a big step forward. I suggested to her that all of these shocks put together had been highly effective in creating the kind of humanist, cultural destruction for which the Vietnam War had evidently been staged.

I pointed out to Ursula that these were the forces by which the great cultural optimism of the Kennedy Space Program era had been defeated. This cultural destruction created the background against which the deindustrialization of the western world could begin, which succeeded. I suggested to Ursula that the resulting physical destruction of the American economy became the third phase of the grinding down of America and much of the western world with it. I pointed out to her that this phase was started in full force in the 1980s. I told her that this grinding down was openly promoted in direct conjunction with the depopulation ideology that had already been accepted in principle throughout the world five years earlier, beginning in the mid 1970s. "Without building the great American Zoo, this level of America's self-destruction would have never been possible, but it is now generally accepted. And that is apparently only the beginning.

Ursula nodded, then shook her head. "What do you mean. How much worse can it get?"

"Just keep your eyes open. The next step will be depopulation starting in earnest," I said quietly. "The first stage that you will see is artificial starvation. When the empire owns the world-food-sully system and then triples the price of food, hundreds of millions, if not billions, will be forced into starvation. In parallel you will see food being distilled into motor fuel. When that starvation takes off you will see artificial pandemics erupting in livestock herds, for which large scale slaughtering will be ordered, with the meat being burnt to keep the pandemics from spreading. Once society gets used to that process, the same kinds of pandemics will then be staged in human populations for which whole segments of people can then be killed, ostensibly to keep the disease from spreading there. None of that will be possible for a few decades yet, but the train has already left the station. What seems impossible today will likely be accepted in a few decades as the zoo mentality 'matures.' That is the trend, Ursula. Nothing will stop this trend, except society's determination to become human beings again. That means escaping the zoo-mentality on the wings of scientific perceptions that enable society to rediscover its humanity and then falling in Love with it."

"Isn't it amazing," said Ursula, "how everything comes back to this one single point, the need for society to wake up and become human beings in the Light of Love."

"And that is what is happening right here," I replied. "We have become a two-people movement to create a New Human Renaissance with which to save civilization. And the power that we wield is Love."

Ursula began to laugh. "Do you really want me to hug you that badly?" she said. "You kept looking at my breasts."

"I am not making this up," I said, defending myself. "I wish it was all fantasy, but isn't. Love is the only royal way, the truly human and Sublime way."

We both stood up spontaneously and hugged each other. Wow! Indeed, that was the Sublime and human dimension being one.

"ALL the cultural damage that has been done over many centuries needs to be undone that way," she said quietly, interrupting the intimate silence of our hugging. "We have to build a taller platform than has ever existed before, because all of the old platforms had been insufficient to protect our humanity, to say nothing about reversing the damage already done. That means that we must build a kind of platform that cannot be ground into the dust by the zookeepers. We have to build one that is able to withstand every shock."

"If anyone hears us talking like that, they must think we've gone bonkers or are dreaming," I replied, "but I am in Love with it because it reflects Truth.

Her smile was as bright as light bulb when the hug ended and we were facing each other as if for a kiss. "All that I know is that this higher platform must be established in our thinking," she said. "We have no other option, but to resort to Love. Whether the challenge is nuclear war, depopulation, or economic collapse into poverty, the answer is always the same. It is Love on a deeper and wider level than we have both known until now that can furnish the breakthrough. We only have this one option. The Light of Love furnishes that option freely. It beckons us."

"This is also the most wonderful option that I can think of," I said. "And it is available now. We don't have to wait till tomorrow."