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Henry Foster IV

NWO Reporter Contributing Editor

David Rockefeller Clone

Property of Immortal Remains, Inc.

The glorious global oligarchy tragically lost one of its staunchest supporters in the autumn of 2015, when the esteemed David Rockefeller perished in a sudden explosion while re-reading his autobiographical Memoirs for the 99th time by the lily pond of his Mumbai estate. 


The cause of the explosion remains a mystery to this day, but is believed by many experts to be the result of a spontaneous combustion of hubris.


Anxious to preserve what was left of Mr. Rockefeller's peculiar visage for posterity and potential profit, Rockefeller heirs scraped up his scattered remains and stored them in the family cryogenic tomb for future cloning.  

Unfortunately, the venerable Rockefeller scraps had been contaminated with pond scum in the preservation process, severely limiting their market value.  They were eventually sold for $50 at a family remains clearance sale to Immortal Remains, Inc., an up-and-coming traveling freak show specializing in elite oddities from around the globe. 

With an intrepid entrepreneurial spirit and an investment of only $1200, Immortal Remains created the Resurrected Rockefeller Exhibit, featuring a slightly irregular Rockefeller manufactured by Poughkeepsie Discount Clones.  It has proven to be one of the most popular attractions, drawing tens of thousands each year as a favorite target for the International Cherry Pit Spit championships.


NWO Reporter contributing editor Henry Foster, a world-renowned cherry pit spitter, had an opportunity to meet with the revered reproduction of the man who once described himself as "the finest and most fascinating example of power and privilege ever to grace this planet."



David Rockefeller Speaks on the

Divine Right of Kings


By Ginny Stoner | nworeporter.com

Image by Ed. | nworeporter.com



December 9, 2042

Foster:  It's an honor to meet with you today, Mr. Rockefeller.


Rockefeller:  Yes, it most certainly is. 


Foster:  I understand you're among the special elite few referred to as the Illuminutty? 


Rockefeller:  That's Illuminati, Foster -- it means "Illuminated Ones".  We're the self-proclaimed best of the brightest of the richest.  We all belong to a special club called the Bilderberg Group.


Foster:  Is that the club where everyone wears a long robe and confers with a giant owl? 


Rockefeller:  You're thinking of Bohemian Grove -- that's where the Bilderberg men go to party with Molach and boy toys.  B
ilderberg is an important business meeting where Illuminati men and women plan the world's market booms and crashes, wars, pandemics and the like for the upcoming year.


Foster:  So Bilderberg is a place for business, and Bohemian Grove is where the Illuminutters go to have fun? 


Rockefeller:  I told you, Foster, it's Illuminati.  Is your memory malfunctioning? 


Foster:  My apologies, Mr. Rockefeller -- I thought "Illuminutters" was the British version of the plural.  If I may, I'd like to talk about your 2002 Memoirs.


Rockefeller:  Of course.  Who wouldn't?


Foster:  In Chapter 27, you wrote:

  • "Some even believe we are part of a secret cabal working against the best interests of the United States, characterizing my family and me as 'internationalists' and of conspiring with others around the world to build a more integrated global political and economic structure -- one world, if you will.  If that's the charge, I stand guilty, and I am proud of it." 


Were you speaking here of one world government?

Rockefeller:  Not at all, Henry.  The key word in that paragraph is "cabal" -- I never favored a popularly elected world government.  The cabal already had its hands full orchestrating the outcomes of all the major national elections around the globe.  Besides, we found we could operate much more efficiently behind the public opinion scenes.  
 

Foster:  I was surprised that you spoke so openly about the cabal -- it was my understanding that the New World Order was supposed to be a secret. 

Rockefeller:  Well, we did keep it secret for many decades.  But eventually word got out, so we changed strategy.  We decided to bring it out into the open, and create the perception in the minds of the public that it was actually a wonderful thing. 

Foster:  That must have been quite a challenge.

Rockefeller:  Not really.  We sold it on a "peace, love, understanding and prosperity for all" ticket.  

Foster:  Sounds nice.  Who wouldn't want a world like that? 

Rockefeller:  Exactly, Henry.  The key to ruling the world is that people must assume we in the cabal share their values -- that we are fundamentally just like them, only smarter and more successful.  Hence, we should be revered and admired. 

If the people understood that we view them as akin to cattle, they might take umbrage.  Fortunately, the general public is largely unable to grasp the most salient characteristic of our inherent superiority -- our pristine lack of conscience.  It's what allows us to exercise our noble obligations to control, weaken, or eliminate the herds as needed to achieve a smoothly functioning world order.     

Foster:  So the global cabal -- the Globalords -- are essentially like revered and admired psychopaths on steroids, would that be a fair characterization?


Rockefeller:  Naturally, we don't characterize ourselves in that way, Henry.  By virtue of our position and linage, we are simply above the rules applicable to lesser men.  It's called the divine right of kings.


Foster:  I see.  Speaking of kings, it was said during your lifetime that you ruled the world.  Is that true?

Rockefeller:  I would hardly place myself on that level, Henry.  I would never have gotten my hands that dirty.  It would be more accurate to say that I was one of a very small number of rulers of the rulers of the world.


Foster:  Very impressive, Mr. Rockefeller.  To become a mere exhibit in a freak show must have required a great deal of adjustment on your part. 

Rockefeller:  Well... *wiping a tear*

Foster:  I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Rockefeller -- I didn't mean to make you cry.  Now if you'll excuse me, it looks like the cherry pit spit is just about to begin...



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