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Operation Disclosure Official
By James O’Brien, Contributing Writer
Submitted on April 7, 2026
He replied, “I saw S---n fall like lightning from heaven. I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you. However, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”
– Luke 10: 18-20
The War on God: A History
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIC3uB-wInk
Excerpt from Alias John Titor:
A slap on the back from John Titor jarred me back to my current reality. I was back in the room with him in 1975, in front of the cracked mirror. I had tripped into 1992 so completely it was as if I was living that time again and not just imagining it. For some reason, I thought my name there was Declan, but other than that, they were exactly the same memories I had of that time.
“What the hell just happened?” I stammered.
“You were sleepwalking. You got up from bed and were standing in front of the mirror with your eyes closed.”
“I dreamt I was looking at myself. But, I wasn’t dreaming, I was awake.”
“It’s a form of lucid dreaming.”
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“I feel like I want to cry. Like I’m not a real person or something. Like I’m some kind of velveteen rabbit. It’s weird man. I’m losing my s--t.”
“You were tripping on a hole in a paper heart. It’s normal,” John said. “You’ve been in this room before, at a key moment in your journey. Now you’re back here, in the same location, having time-traveled. The corridors of time are fluid. In a sense, there’s a simultaneous quality to all of time, all existence. You’ve broken the hymen of linearity. And this place is a way station for you. You didn’t bring us to this locale for no reason.”
“I don’t wanna lose my mind. That felt like insanity,” I coughed, taking a gulp of sink water and splashing my face again. I toweled off with a starchy face cloth.
“You have the right psychological make-up to do this, or you wouldn’t be here. The spiritual aspect of this is by far the most important. Center yourself on the ultimate reality. Unity consciousness. There is only One of us here.”
“What do you mean by that? Only one of us here?” I pressed.
“One consciousness animates all life, all being. And consciousness creates form. Form does not create consciousness. Arbitrary distinctions are recreational, and yet, there’d be no such thing as individual experiences without it.”
“So what’s the point of this mission, if All is One, anyway?”
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“We aim to free ourselves within our own creations. Reality has become a prison of our own labyrinthine conceptions. A prison of our shadow self.”
“And what is this shadow self? The Devil?”
John smiled wistfully and shook his head. “Lucifer, it is said, took a third of the Angels of Heaven with him when he fell. But what did the other two thirds do? They followed, in order to save them from the darkness of their fallen conceptions.”
“They followed them to Earth?”
“What you think of as Earth, is not exactly what it is. It’s a holographic reality. A beautiful one, yes, if you understand the organic nature of its purity. But it can also be a Hell, if the tyranny of darkness prevails. For the Luciferians, their light is darkness made visible. Remember that. They sustain themselves by the power of subversion. In truth, they’ve taken over the world and all its systems. But people like us, we are the system busters.”
“I think I made a mistake getting in your time machine,” I protested.
“You were bored and you half wanted to die only a week ago, yes?”
“Well, I wanted to see how the election would turn out,” I admitted. “But yes, I was bored with my own reality, my own predicament, you could say that, sure.”
“Are you bored now?” John asked, taking a bite of cold pizza.
“Bored? No. Afraid? Maybe.”
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“Fear is good. It means you’re alive. And what’s the worst that could happen?”
“Death?” I proposed.
“Death is a given,” John said. “In another now, you’re dying right at this moment. And in another one, you’re already dead. And in yet another, you’re being born again. So, take hope, my friend. Take strength. And take agency, above all else. We are conscious beams of light, penetrating a system that’s been captured by the tyranny of darkness made manifest. And we are on a Mission from God. Bet on that.”
∞∞∞
Alias John Titor
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DWT4KB4D
Parting the Washington Sea
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B092P78P71
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