Among the Lizards
Dispatches from the Technocratic Terrarium
Given the recent revelations about unexplained space crafts of one sort or another over the moon, I think it’s time that we spent some time revisiting the idea of Lizard people. David Icke, the British soccer player, turned broadcaster, turned revelator of Lizard people, has spent years unpacking what the Lizard people are up to, who they are and how they got themselves into power.
Of course, they have always been around. They originated from another dimension or star system, and everyone knows at this point they can shape-shift between human and reptilian form. They are a secretive bunch, the reptilians. And they have entrenched themselves firmly in control of the planet, maintaining power through interbreeding and secret societies. They are also a high performing bunch, I have to give them that. Over the centuries they have been monarchs, bankers, presidents, celebrities, fashion models, and television personalities. Your lizard is no slouch from a performance standpoint, they are a high achieving bunch.
Far before The Matrix became a movie, David Icke had pointed out that human perception is manipulated. It is partly holographic and humanity is trapped in kind of an energetic prison. Now, we can be rambunctious so the lizards have been keeping us under control through war, chaos, identity politics, media manipulation, surveillance and a host of manufactured crises. They also use planets like Saturn and the moon to send controlling frequencies — the moon being a kind of artificial projection device that displays the hologram.
What your lizard hates more than anything else is love. Love breaks the fear and the materialism that traps humanity inside the matrix. Love is what can awaken us to a higher form on consciousness.
It’s easy to mock all of this, and the temptation is great to make it seem that this is all ridiculous. But I began to think differently when I first moved to Westport, Connecticut about twenty-five years ago. I began working for a Manhattan wealth manager. In the nearly two decades I lived in the New York/Connecticut area I never really saw anyone laugh. The women all had the same uniform, baseball caps, yoga outfits, driving SUVs, and glassy stares with somewhat beady eyes. The men would stand on the train platform in the morning in a listless manner, not speaking, not making eye contact, and clammer on the steel tube that brought them into their glass building and work cubicles. When I first started riding the train into work, everyone’s heads were buried in either the Wall Street Journal or the New York Times. Later, it was their smart phones and iPads. But still, not speaking, not making eye contact. Every now and then they would snarl and hiss at each other if one of them sat in an undesignated area. The train car bathrooms smelled of urine and formaldehyde .
When there was communication of any type between residents, it was often about stock portfolios, meeting this or that person, where they would vacation or spend the weekend, and where their offspring was either attending or hoped to attend college. At one point, I thought I could break the ice through coaching sports and perhaps that might be “fun.” But that was straight seriousness. The “draft” for 8 and 9 year old girls basketball leagues was as somber and serious as a funeral, and the competition at this age level resembled placing two snarling rattlesnakes into a pen together. The moment that the school year ended, the offspring were shuttled off onto buses to go to “camp”, returning the day before school started. During the summer, the female reptiles would disappear somewhere while the men worked in the city. The town was silent and without children, except for summer dwellers that came up from Brooklyn to bathe in the smelly polluted waters.
But the most obvious signs of reptilian infestation was at industry conferences. The conferences were always at places like Scottsdale or Orlando, in the spring, or in Washington D.C. in the fall. The attendees were compliance and risk officers, attorneys, consultants, vendors, technology executives, politicians and academics. At these conferences, everyone spoke in coded vernacular, polished abstractions, and engaged in mating rituals for business and corporate positions. No one ever really used ordinary words. Clients and customers were reduced to demographic units, and truth had been reduced to narrative alignment.
Panel discussions were entirely devoid of emotion. I would listen to panel discussions that would seemingly go for hours where people would speak in monotones and not change expression. Up close peoples their skin sometimes had the texture of an iguana, and their smiles would have all the warmth of a refrigerated salmon. One time, when speaking with an attendee who was trying to win business from me, I saw his tongue briefly flick out. I know this seems unlikely, and perhaps he suffered from a kind of medical condition. But as I would wade through cocktail hours and breakfast bars, it seemed like words were slithering out of people’s mouths in another language. In wealth management you would hear things like intergenerational optimization, continuity planning and behavioral alignment. Business failures are “opportunities”, death is “vesting.” People are a client base or a demographic.
I suppose one could be highly conspiratorial and ask why these conferences are always held in warm climates, why panel discussions sound like they were written by an algorithm, and why things like family structures, religion and biology are all morally neutral terms viewed in the context of population segments and behavioral patterns. The break out sessions and evening meals resembled reptilian feeding sessions; cold, efficient, full of suspicion and dangerous.
In one on one meetings, there were those who seemed capable of shape-shifting into beings that are more personable, but depending upon who walks by at a certain time, the communication could be abrupt, brief and momentary. There are explanations for this. The ancients had described dragons as creatures obsessed with power and treasure, incapable of love. Similarly, the modern executive is detached from loyalties, endlessly adaptive, and willing to sacrifice anything for a small victory: friendship, family or even more. Conversations are stripped of everything that would be considered valuable to a human Opinions on real issues, especially things such as religion or political opinions stnad outside the circle of acceptability. They represent unwelcome instability and needless sentimentality that can detract from job performance.
Whether or not there are extraterrestrial lizard people, there are lizard people who roughly speak and act the same across all fields of our technocracy, finance, law, information technology and the social sciences. While the average person thinks in terms of home, memory, loyalty, beauty and belonging, the managerial class thinks only in monthly and quarterly abstractions. Friendship has disappeared long ago, loyalty has been replaced with a set of constantly shifting reptilian alliances. The culture developed by today’s managerial class has expunged all unnecessary emotion, color, hyperbole, and poetry.
The jury is still out as to whether we are all under the control of a secret elitist cabal of cannibalistic bloodsucking reptiles. But, there is strong evidence that highly educated human beings have transformed themselves — their spouses and their offspring — into a lizard-like caste incapable of wonder, suspicious of beauty, mystery and jettisoned human loyalty or affection. There is no question of whether or not these humans are capable of shape shifting because the transformation of our educated class is all but complete. With the advent of artificial intelligence we can expect that all unwelcome emotional attachments will disappear so social structures can become more efficient.
On the placard outside one of the break away sessions was the title, “Re-imagining 21st Century Financial Culture.” Indeed. Except no imagination necessary. The future has already arrived.








I was reading this aloud to my son who, like me, wondered if you were being serious about this, but upon reflection, we both realized that yes, in a sense, they do walk among us.
You should read the classic 1959 Sci-Fi novel by James Blish entitled "A Case of Conscience" and then reread this.