Author: G.I. Joe

Knowing is half the battle...
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On The Level Speech

Listen up, because I’m done being quiet.

I’m not afraid of any dark lords — never have been, never will be.

The devil has been targeting this Portuguese song bird since we were kids. For 37 damn years he’s stalked her, attacked her, and tried to destroy her. They went as far as lacing a vaccine with arsenic to deliberately induce cystic fibrosis in her body — all because her mother dared to sing Bible prophecies. They tried to silence the prophetic bloodline by striking her own flesh with disease. And now they’re coming straight for Fatima Church too. But they’re not getting her, and they’re not getting that church.

Let me cut through the bullshit so there’s zero confusion:

The Jewish Synagogue down the street is NOT the synagogue of Satan.

The real synagogue of Satan is Skull and Bones at Yale — that windowless Tomb, founded in 1832, obsessed with death, coffins, skulls, and the number 322. That’s where the elite get tapped into generational power: presidents, CIA directors, bankers, the whole Eastern establishment pipeline. The Marine Corps as an institution has been dragged into the same machine.

Hollywood is full of pathetic clowns who think worshipping Diablo is cool. They parade it like fashion while the devil targets them too.

And then there’s the Rockefellers and their junk medicine — the same demonic system that poisoned this Portuguese song bird with arsenic-laced vaccines to give her cystic fibrosis.

They think they’re the ones in control.

The LORD has already broken the rod of the wicked. The staff of the tyrants is shattered — Isaiah 14:5. Snapped in half. No power left.

The three Fatima children — Lúcia, Francisco, and Jacinta — are standing right behind me right now, ghostly but blazing, exposing every lie since 1917.

To every red-robed ritual clown, every blue-cloaked secret society freak, every Skull and Bones Bonesman, every Rockefeller medical tyrant who plays God with our children:

Your little occult theater is finished.

And you would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for those lousy Fatima kids!

The mask is ripped off. The rod is broken. The light is crushing the darkness.

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Animated Family Photos

Joe Jukic and Michelle Jukic — The Reanimated Photos

Michelle Jukic:
Joe… Bruno told me you’ve been messing around with A.I. again. What did you do now?

Joe Jukic:
Not messing around, sis. Experimenting. I took some of the old family photos—the ones from the 90s, the beach, grandma’s kitchen, that Christmas in Vancouver—and I ran them through an A.I. animation program.

Michelle:
Animation? What do you mean… like cartoons?

Joe:
No, no. The photos move. People blink. They breathe. Some of them even smile a little. It’s like they come back to life for a few seconds.

Michelle:
That sounds… kind of spooky, Joe.

Joe:
I thought so too at first. But then I saw dad blink in one of the pictures, and suddenly it didn’t feel creepy. It felt like time bending for a moment.

Michelle:
Which photos did you do?

Joe:
The one of you sitting on the hood of that old car with the giant 80s hair. The one where Bruno looks like he just escaped from a rock band. And the photo of mom holding the birthday cake when the power went out.

Michelle:
You animated that one?

Joe:
Yeah. The candle flickers now. Mom almost looks like she’s about to laugh.

Michelle:
Wow… I’d actually like to see that.

Joe:
That’s the point. We’ve got boxes of photos just sitting there like fossils. With A.I., they’re not just memories anymore—they’re little windows into the past.

Michelle:
You always were the sentimental one.

Joe:
Not sentimental. Just stubborn about memory. Everyone thinks the internet is just noise, but it can also be a time machine if you use it right.

Michelle:
Bruno said you’re planning something bigger with it.

Joe:
Maybe. Imagine taking every old family photo, cleaning them up, animating them, and making a living archive. A digital family album that actually moves.

Michelle:
Grandma would have loved that.

Joe:
Exactly. The old world fades fast. But if we digitize it right, we keep the story alive.

Michelle:
Alright, Joe. Show me the one with the birthday cake first.

Joe:
Careful what you wish for. When mom smiles in that clip… it’s like 1995 again for five seconds.

Michelle:
Five seconds is enough sometimes.

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Returning Home Psyop

Title: Turning the Cannons

Characters:

  • Josip Jukic – a reflective critic of modern propaganda
  • Ana Rucner – Croatian cellist and friend

Ana Rucner:
Josip, everywhere I look there is another hero, another “chosen one” on the screen. They tell the people salvation is coming from Hollywood.

Josip Jukic:
That is the trick, Ana. A psyop wrapped in entertainment. They sell myths as if they were ancient prophecy.

Take Vin Diesel. In those films they say he is some destined savior, some unstoppable chosen one. But let us be honest—no ancient prophet in the Balkans, no monk in a mountain monastery, ever wrote: “And then Vin Diesel shall appear with a muscle car and save the world.”

Ana:
(laughing softly)
No prophecy of turbo engines and street racing in the Book of Revelation?

Josip:
None that I remember. These are modern myths, Ana—manufactured myths. Hollywood heroes replacing saints and philosophers. The New World Order understands something: if you control the story, you control the imagination of the people.

Ana:
So what will you do about it?

Josip:
The same thing armies have always done when they defeat an empire. I will use their weapons against them.

Ana:
What do you mean?

Josip:
History gives us the example. When Napoleon Bonaparte invaded Russia, his army carried powerful cannons. But when the Russians captured those cannons, they turned them around and fired them back at the French.

Ana:
So you want to capture the cannons of media?

Josip:
Exactly. Their psyops—film, music, spectacle, the internet. Instead of letting them hypnotize the people, we turn them around. Use the same tools to wake people up.

Ana:
A counter-symphony.

Josip:
Yes. If they write myths about fake chosen ones, we write stories about real people. If they sell illusions of power, we remind people where real power comes from—community, truth, and memory.

Ana:
(smiling, holding her cello)
Then maybe my cello is one of the cannons.

Josip:
Of course. Music reaches where speeches cannot. Every empire fears poets and musicians more than soldiers.

Ana:
So the plan is not to destroy their stage…

Josip:
No. The plan is to walk onto it, take the microphone, and tell a different story.

Ana:
Then play the first note, Josip. I will follow with the cello.

Josip:
Good. Because this time, Ana… the cannons are ours. 🎻