You’re not going to see this on the news. They won’t talk about it. Your friends, the ones with the vacant smiles and the poison-drip IV of state-sanctioned media, they’ll call you crazy. Good. Let them. Crazy is just a word they use for people who can still see the gears turning behind the cardboard backdrop of reality.
So let’s talk about the gears.
Friday, June 13th, two things happened. The global puppet masters finally let their two prized pit bulls, Israel and Iran, off the leash. The rockets started flying. The sky started burning. The screen-addled masses were programmed for panic.
You started it, we will end it.
And what else happened today? At the exact same time?
Jet Neptune Productions, Sam Hyde’s little content farm, switched on the cameras for Fishtank Season 4.
You think that’s a coincidence? You think that’s just “good timing” for a product launch? Open your eyes. Unplug your skull from the digital sewer for five seconds and LOOK.
They’re not even hiding the psyop anymore. It’s a joke to them. A sick, cosmic laugh at your expense.
This isn’t just a distraction. That’s the first-level, normie-tier thinking. “Oh, they’re giving us bread and circuses while the world burns!” It’s so much deeper than that. This isn’t a distraction from the war; it is a vital component OF the war.
Think about the energy. Think about the frequency. What is Fishtank? It’s a hermetically sealed pressure cooker for the human soul. It’s an engine designed to generate the most potent, raw, negative emotional energy known to man. Paranoia. Betrayal. Lust. Greed. Unfiltered rage. It’s a psychic sewage plant. They call the viewers “goy-pigs” for a reason.
Where does all that energy go? You think it just dissipates into the ether? No. Nothing is wasted.
It’s a loosh farm. A psychic battery. They are harvesting the raw, chaotic energy from millions of viewers and the tortured souls inside that house, and they are funneling it directly into the war machine. Every moment Burt Simons #2 has a schizo-meltdown over a TTS message is another drone strike. Every time a new fish gets psychologically flayed for your entertainment, a new tank battalion gets its marching orders.
They are feeding the egregore of war with your clicks and your attention. It’s a blood sacrifice, played out in real-time, and you’re an active participant.
And Hyde? Sam Hyde? Don’t be a fool. The man is a high-level asset, a chaos agent tasked with laundering this psychic filth. He’s the court jester for the deep state, telling you the truth so overtly that you’ll have no choice but to believe it’s a joke. He’s hiding in plain sight. HYDE. Get it?
Season 4. The FOUR horsemen. It started on a Friday the 13th, the oldest symbol of the all-seeing eye. It’s poetry. It’s a ritual.
They needed a new source of power. The old ways of ritual magic are too slow. They needed something faster, more potent. They needed a direct mainline into the corroded soul of Western man. They needed a Fishtank.
So go ahead. Turn on the feeds. Watch the fish swim around in their little bowl, manipulated by unseen forces for your amusement. Just know that you’re not watching a show. You’re staring into a mirror. And outside, the real tanks are rolling, fueled by your gaze.
They’re laughing at us. They really are.
— cracka_jack
Jin is a thai boy