Project Briefing and Background
In 1972, in a remote section of northern New Mexico, a group of hikers discovered an unusual artifact and pictographs within an obscure canyon. An archeologist from the University of New Mexico analyzed the artifact and searched the area where it was discovered, but found no signs that a prehistoric culture had established any permanent site in the canyon. It was presumed that a nomadic, Native American Indian tribe had occasionally used the canyon as a temporary settlement and had left behind a few artifacts of their presence as a consequence. There were, however, two very puzzling questions. All but one of the artifacts could be dated to the 8th century AD. The exception, known as the "compass" artifact, appeared to be an unusual form of technology, and was found among more typical artifacts like pottery and simple tools. The compass was covered in strange hieroglyphic symbols, some of which were also found on the pottery. Secondly, the pictographs that were found in the area had inexplicably appeared, and they were strikingly different than any of the other native petroglyphs or rock art found in the southwest or the entire continent for that matter.
Because of these two anomalies, the artifacts and the entire project quickly became the property of the US government, or more specifically, the National Security Agency. It was decided that these artifacts might suggest a pre-historical, extraterrestrial presence on earth, and that the NSA had the appropriate agenda and wherewithal to initiate a full-scale, scientific expedition to determine the nature and significance of the site.
The site was completely searched by a secret department of the NSA in 1973, but it only resulted in a few additional findings, and none of them were designated as technologies or evidence of an extraterrestrial presence. Additional pictographic symbols were found, but decoding them was a difficult and frustrating process. Experts were called in to help, but it was impossible to reach a consensus as to what the pictographs meant. As quickly as the project had risen as a priority investigation, it fell into the archives of the NSA under the code name, Ancient Arrow.
Twenty-one years later, in 1994, a series of rockslides opened up a section of the Ancient Arrow site. The canyon was in a naturally obscure section of park land held by the state of New Mexico. After its discovery in 1972, it had been officially sanctioned off-limits to hikers and campers and was to be left in its natural state. From time-to-time, scientists -- sponsored by the NSA -- would visit the site hoping to uncover new evidence, but were invariably disappointed.
Shortly after the rockslide occurrence, a small team of operatives from the NSA visited Ancient Arrow canyon to do some follow-up research. They discovered the rockslide had exposed an entrance to a hidden cavern that led deep within the canyon walls.
At the back of this cavern, the research team discovered a well-hidden entrance into the interior of the canyon wall or rock structure of the Ancient Arrow site. There they found a system of tunnels and chambers that had been carved out from solid rock. There were a total of 23 chambers, all intricately connected to an interior corridor, and each chamber held a specific wall painting, series of pictographs, written hieroglyphs, and what seemed to be dormant, alien technologies.
Once this entrance to the cavern was found, a report was immediately filed with the Director responsible for the Ancient Arrow project. The project was then formally brought under the jurisdiction of the Advanced Contact Intelligence Organization (ACIO), which organized an inter-disciplinary research team to assess the exact nature of the site and attempt to discover additional artifacts or evidence of an extraterrestrial visitation.
TEASER FROM THE INTERVIEWS:
Anne: "When you say 'visiting you', what evidence did you have that the WingMakers might be visiting you?"
Dr. Anderson: "I was spending 70 hours per week working on the decoding formulas for the symbol pictures, and this went on for about 8 months. During this time I tried every conceivable combination to create an access code to the optical disc. I was convinced it was the only way to open it. I was also convinced that it was purposely made to be difficult, at least to our presentday brains. It was almost as though the struggle to decode their language was exercising a part of my brain or nervous system that was enabling me to communicate with them.
"I began to hear them speaking to me. It began as a word or two . . . then a sentence . . . maybe just once a day. It didn't make much sense . . . what I heard. But then one day I was working on a chamber painting and I saw something move in the painting. One of the symbols moved and it was absolutely not an illusion or trick of the light. Then I realized that the WingMakers could interact with me, that they were time traveling to my time and that somehow their paintings were actually portals in which they moved through time.
"It was then I began to hear their instructions, or more precisely, their thoughts. I was given mental images on how to use the Sumerian language to decode their own symbol pictures. I thought I was possibly going crazy. I felt like my mind was playing tricks on me . . . that I was working too hard and needed to take a holiday, but I listened to the voices because it seemed plausible what I was being instructed to do. When I finished with the access code and it worked, I knew then that I was indeed communicating with them. Anne: "Did you tell anyone? I mean about the fact that you were communicating with the WingMakers?"
Dr. Anderson: "I kept it a secret. I wasn't sure how I would be able to explain the phenomenon and I didn't want to arouse suspicions, so I went about my business and began developing the translation indexes for the 8,110 pages of text that was discovered within the optical disc. It was essential that we had a letter-for-letter index in order to retain the meaning of their language . . . we called this translation granularity. And as I started the process of translating the optical disc, I began to see fragment images of the WingMakers . . . sort of like a holographic image that would appear and then disappear in a matter of seconds.
"They visited me a total of three times -- always in my home at night -- and told me that I had been selected to be their liaison or spokesperson. Of course I asked them why me and not Fifteen, and they said that Fifteen was unable to speak for them because he was already the pawn of the Corteum."
Anne:"Tell me about Fifteen. What is he like?"
Dr. Anderson: "Fifteen is a genius of unparalleled intelligence and knowledge. He's the leader of the Labyrinth Group and has been since its inception in 1963. He was only 22 [twenty-two] years old when he joined the ACIO in 1956. I think he was discovered early enough before he had a chance to establish a reputation in academic circles. He was a renegade genius who wanted to build computers that would be powerful enough to time travel. Can you imagine how a goal like that -- in the mid-1950s -- must have sounded to his professors?
"Needless to say, he was not taken seriously, and was essentially told to get in line with academic protocols and perform serious research. Fifteen came to the ACIO through an alliance it had with Bell Labs. Somehow Bell Labs heard about his genius and hired him, but he quickly out-paced their research agenda and wanted to apply his vision of time travel." Anne: "Why was he so interested in time travel?"
Dr. Anderson: "No one is absolutely sure. And his reasons may have changed over time. The accepted purpose was to develop Blank Slate Technology or BST. BST is a form of time travel that enables the re-write of history at what are called intervention points. Intervention points are the causal energy centers that create a major event like the break-up of the Soviet Union or the NASA space program.
"BST is the most advanced technology and clearly anyone who is in possession of BST, can defend themselves against any aggressor. It is, as Fifteen was fond of saying, the freedom key. Remember that the ACIO was the primary interface with extraterrestrial technologies and how to adapt them into mainstream society as well as military applications. We were exposed to ETs and knew of their agenda. Some of these ETs scared the hell out of the ACIO."
Anne: "Why?"
Dr. Anderson: "There were agreements between our government -- specifically the NSA -- to cooperate with an ET species commonly called the Greys in exchange for their cooperation to stay hidden and conduct their biological experiments under the cloak of secrecy. There was also a bungled technology transfer program, but that's another story . . . [--] However, not all the Greys were operating within a unified agenda. There were certain groups of Greys that looked upon humans in much the same way as we look upon laboratory animals. "They're abducting humans and animals, and have been for the past 48 [forty-eight] years . . . [--] they're essentially conducting biological experiments to determine how their genetics can be made to be compatible with human and animal genetic structure. Their interests are not entirely
view the rest of the comments →
24886301? ago
LIST OF THE GOOD GUYS:
Q's drop ID is encoded with Dec 03rd, 2002
What happened on that day of importance? Seems to have some Saddam stuff when I look back in old newspapers?
Also these "big" movies were released:
Catch me if you can and The Hours which contain all kinds of the pedowood people being focused on by Q. Chock full of em.
but how to pinpoint what Q is referring to with this date?
EDIT: I downloaded and watching "25th Hour" from Dec 03, 2002
Edward Norton character just said, at 36:25 mins into the movie:
This movie is from Dec 2002, Q's tripcode is encoded with it 03decb0 and so I started searching for things around 03rd Dec, 2002...
This is from the movie "25th Hour" with Edward Norton.
36:00 mins into the movie:
Where'd you think that money was coming from -- Donald Trump?
That was a mistake.
Let's just forget it, then.
There were lots of mistakes.
I should've stopped drinking when your mother passed.
Please don't do this.
-year-old boy with a dead mother and a drunk father.
I got no one to blame but myself.
Oh, stop. Stop.
It wasn't you, Pop.
I'm gonna take a leak.
Yeah, fuck you, too.
Fuck me? Fuck you.
Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it.
No, no, no, no, no.
Fuck the panhandlers grubbing for money,
smiling at me behind my back.
Fuck the squeegee men
dirtying up the clean windshield of my car.
Get a fucking job.
Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis
bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs,
curry steaming out their pores, stinking up my day.
Terrorists in fucking training. Slow the fuck down!
...getting one of those operations
that elongate your penis.
Fuck the Chelsea Boys
with their waxed chests and pumped-up biceps,
going down on each other in my parks and on my piers,
jiggling their dicks on my Channel !
Fuck the Korean grocers
with their pyramids of overpriced fruit
and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic.
Ten years in the country, still no speakee English.
Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach.
Mobster thugs sitting in cafes, sipping tea in little glasses,
sugar cubes between their teeth,
wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'.
Go back where you fucking came from.
Fuck the black-hatted Hasidim
strolling up and down th Street
in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff,
selling South African apartheid diamonds.
Come on. Your wife deserves this.
Fuck the Wall Street brokers.
Self-styled masters of the universe.
Michael Douglas-Gordon Gekko wannabe motherfuckers
figuring out new ways to rob hardworking people blind.
Send those Enron assholes to jail for fucking life.
You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit?
Give me a fucking break.
Worldcom.
Fuck the Puerto Ricans.
Twenty to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls.
Worst fucking parade in the city.
And don't even get me started on the Dominicans,
'cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good.
Who's this fuckin' guy?! Get the fuck outta here!
Fuck the Bensonhurst ltalians with their pomaded hair,
their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions,
swinging their Jason Giambi Louisville Slugger baseball bats
trying to audition for "The Sopranos."
Fuckin' crack your fuckin' head open!
Bensonhurst! Bensonhurst!
Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermes scarves
and their $
Balducci artichoke.
Taxi!
Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted
and stretched all taut and shiny.
You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart.
Taxi!
Fuck the Uptown brothers.
They never pass the ball,
they don't want to play defense,
they take five steps on every layup to the hoop,
and then they want to turn around
and blame everything on the white man.
We not giving it up! We not giving it up!
Slavery ended years ago.
Move the fuck on.
Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus-violating plungers
and their shots,
standing behind a blue wall of silence.
You betray our trust!
Fuck the priests who put their hands
down some innocent child's pants.
Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil.
And while you're at it, fuck J.C.
He got off easy --
a day on the cross, a weekend in hell,
and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity.
Try seven years in fucking Otisville, J.
Fuck Osama bin Laden, Al Qaeda,
and backward-ass cave-dwelling
fundamentalist assholes everywhere.
On the names of innocent thousands murdered,
I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your whores
roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell.
You towel-headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal lrish ass.
"l notice how many of what I once thought
"were evidences of repression, sexual or otherwise..."
Fuck Jacob Elinsky.
Whining malcontent.
Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery, my best friend,
judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass.
Fuck Naturelle Riviera.
I gave her my trust, and she stabbed me in the back.
Sold me up the river. Fucking bitch.
Fuck my father with his endless grief,
standing behind that bar, sipping on club soda,
selling whiskey to firemen and cheering the Bronx Bombers.
Let's go, Yankees!
Fuck this whole city and everyone in it,
from the row houses of Astoria
to the penthouses on Park Avenue,
from the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho,
from the tenements in Alphabet City
to the brownstones in Park Slope
to the split-levels in Staten lsland,
Iet an earthquake crumble it, let the fires rage,
Iet it burn to fucking ash, and then let the waters rise
and submerge this whole rat-infested place.
24890197? ago
You mean what DirectorAnon calls “jar people”?
https://voat.co/v/QRV/3913518