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What does it matter if one is free or slave in this vale of tears? The essential thing is to get to heaven, and resignation is one more means towards that. .. Christianity preaches only servi- tude and dependence. Its spirit is so favorable to tyranny that tyranny always exploits it. True Christians are made to be slaves, they know it, and they are not concerned by that: this short life is too unimportant in their eyes. (Jean Jacques Rousseau, The Social Contract, 4 On 4.8). Our present servitude is due to the acquiescence of our post-diluvian ancestors who, after the horrific terrestrial and celestial cataclysms they had experienced or heard about, had no choice but to concede to the New World Order of their times. By the invincible power of traditional subservience, the inertia of the general mind, enhanced by the gullibility of ignorance, the masses have slipped under the force of a victim- ization that is both pitiable and tragic. The forces of religion have thus exerted their ruler- ship over a vast segment of humanity and virtually provided the masses with their conventional ideas and concepts as to the meaning of the world ordeal. (Alvin Boyd Kuhn, Ultimate Canon of Knowledge) Religious thought has detached itself from nature and searches in the illimitable areas of feeling, thought, and wonder for what understanding these may yield it. With no guides, checks, clues or competent intelligence to recognize truth, imagination all too readily con- jures up wayward, extravagant and strange surmises as to the presence and intervention of forces not naturally operative...Religion is not the realm of knowledge, or even of thought, but purely of belief, as for the masses. (Alvin Boyd Kuhn, Ultimate Canon of Knowledge) All this chaos in the religious area was attended, accentuated, if not largely inspired by, one of the most staggering phenomena in the history of the race. This was--and is--the presence, power, and influence of —a Book. (Ibid) I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen; A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door; So I turned to the Garden of Love That so many sweet flowers bore. And I saw it was filled with graves, And tombstones where re flowers should be; a Me = ate 147 Epilogue: Time to Change the Road You’re On And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds, Atlantis, Alien Visitation, and Genetic Manipulation