Going To Nineveh | IMightBeWrong

Today, as of 2022; we sit right in the middle of the "time of chaos", that is to bring about the "New World Order". Unbelievably, we are still having to convince people that the "New World Order" even exists. This is the reason that I wrote the book, that is behind the creation of this site.

The following pages of this website are actually from a book I started writing in 2004 and finished, in around 2010. I decided not to publish the book at the time however, for various reasons. Today, I am posting that work, in the format of this website. I have done decades worth of study and research into the "New World Order" and into the secret societies of the "mystery schools", that have worked in unison for centuries, to bring about the chaotic world that you see today.

So much has changed, since the days when I first wrote this. I have done my very best however, to update my writings from back then and bridge the gap to today, in 2022. I mention this, because if you begin to read the pages on this site; you will see that some sections flow into the others, like chapters in a book.

You do not have to view the site in this manner, as I have set up each page to hopefully stand alone. However, if you are researching the things on this site for the first time; you may want to read the sections the way I set them up, on the Chapters Page. Each icon represents a chapter, reading left to right and up to down. This way, you get to "ease yourself" into the rabbit holes of these heavy and sometimes disturbing subjects; like an old man, slipping into a warm bath.

In the end, I believe it is impossible for any honest researcher, or anyone who does not have an agenda other than the search for truth, to research the conspiracies of the "New World Order" and not come away a solid believer. Still, when I first started researching these subjects, I admit that I did not want to believe many of these truths either. If you are a skeptic about the "New World Order", know this; Once upon a time, so was I.

Everything on this website comes from my research, my life experiences and is the truth as I know it to be. It is never my intention to mislead anyone, or lie to anyone about anything, that you see on this website.

In addition to my experiences and research; you will see that my information on this website, also comes from a wide range of testimonies and interviews. These include those of historians, authors, philosophers, former intelligence officers and even former high ranking members of the New World Order "mystery schools" themselves.

There is so much misinformation and disinformation out there today, as it pertains to what the New World Order is truly all about; that one does not know who they can trust to tell them the truth anymore. The fact of the matter is; much of the information given to the populace about the New World Order, is produced directly by the people, who control the New World Order. These productions have done a fabulous job of making sure that the populace has no real clue, as to the true nature of what we, as a society, are dealing with today.

To that end; who am I? How can you trust me, to tell you the truth about any of these subjects? How did I come about the information on these pages; to even know what I am talking about, in the first place? How can you be sure I am a reliable source?

The short answer is; you can’t and I do not want you to. Moreover, if there is something I write in the following pages that you cannot prove through the King James Bible, I do not want you to believe it. I am not perfect. I will make mistakes. I am thoroughly researched and experienced however, so I openly invite you to question everything written on this website and to debunk anything and everything, IF you can.

When I discuss things on this website that are of a conspiratorial nature, I will give you the source of that information, so that you can read the citation for yourself. Either that, or I will specify that what I am saying is my opinion and you can take my opinion with a grain of salt, if you wish. It is never my intention to mislead anyone, or give anyone false information.

A very special thank you, goes out to all of the people involved with this project. You know who you are. Without each and every one of you, this message would be impossible. This has literally been my life's work, I pray that it is a blessing to somebody and helps you understand exactly, what happened to America.

This website is for people who have, or for people who want, "ears that can hear" and "eyes that can see". This website is not for those with "itching ears", looking for someone to tell them what they want to hear. There are plenty of people out there, that will do that for you. That is not my calling.

This site is not for "the sheeple". As far as I know; Bill Cooper coined that phrase on his "short wave" radio show, back in the 90's. Bill was a former officer of intelligence, for the United States Navy and I will refer to him several times on this site. The reason is, he is also one of the men who "woke me up". With the help of Bill and two other men, whose names were Ted Gunderson and John Todd; I became a small part of the population, who considered ourselves to be truly "awake", in terms of how our world operates.

We had a nice run; I must say. We had about fifteen or twenty years maybe, where a person could still do real research and certain subjects were not "shadow banned", or de-platformed. They had not written many, if any, books or hit pieces claiming "conspiracy theories were dangerous".

Maxine Waters and her friends had not yet co-opted, stolen and flipped what it was to be "awake", exchanging it for "woke". "Woke" means lost. "Woke" means asleep. If you are "woke", you are not "awake" about anything. You are sleep-walking through life. Maybe the more accurate term for today would be "the sleeple", instead of "the sheeple"; so that we make sure to be "inclusive" in describing those sleep-walkers; those "sheeple", who call themselves "woke".

So, let this serve as your "trigger warning". The "Sleeple" will have 89 different kinds of social justice warrior, break-downs reading this website. If you are not an honest researcher, looking for the truth, regardless of where it leads you and with no agenda in your heart; then this site is not for you. This site will not carry the opinions of most of those, in the main stream media.

Bill Cooper spent half of his life trying to "wake up" the "sheeple". Again, this is not my calling. My calling is not to "cast pearls before swine", but rather to speak to those with "ears to hear" and "eyes to see", or are at the very least, here with an open and honest heart. If you have already heard it all, learned it all and know it all, I am not talking to you. Go somewhere else and be awesome.

For everyone else, I think it is important to state up front; what drives me to write these pages, what my motivations and agendas are and where I am coming from. In short, I am coming from the belly of a fish. I will explain what I mean by that, in the story that follows.

The picture above, is Herbert Mandell's beautiful rendition of "Jonah and the Fish". You can view this painting, as well as other pieces of his outstanding artwork HERE.

I do not know how well studied you are, about the story of Jonah. It seems to be a simple story; one that is told to children, learning the Bible for the first time. It is a simple story; yet even still, you may have been taught a few misconceptions. Basically, the story goes as follows;

The Lord once spoke to a man named Jonah and told him to get up and go to a city called Nineveh. God told Jonah that the city had been wicked and that He wanted Jonah to go "cry against it". Instead, Jonah got up and fled to a port, called Joppa. There, he found a ship going to a place called Tarshish, where Jonah believed he could escape from the presence of God.

Jonah paid his fare, boarded a ship for Tarshish and hit the open sea. Along the way, God sent a great wind, causing giant waves that tossed the ship around, to the point of the ship's men all crying out, to their individual gods. The mariners even threw all of their "wares that were in the ship into the sea, to lighten it", hoping the ship would not be torn apart.

Meanwhile, oblivious to all of this, Jonah is down inside the ship taking a nap. The shipmaster found him and said; "Get up fool! How are you down here snoring, when we are all up here losing our minds? Get up here and pray to your God, like the rest of us, before we die!" These are my "cliff note" words, obviously. The Bible tells it more eloquently, but for our general rundown, this is what he basically said. Feel free to read it for yourself, by clicking any of the words in red.

So, they go upstairs and start interrogating Jonah. "We want to know who you are? Who do you work for? Where are you from? Who are your people?" Jonah told them who he was and who he worshipped and told them that his God was the one who made the sea and the land, in the first place. Therefore, it had to be his God that was about to cause the ship to capsize and sink.

Understandably, the ships men were scared and more than just a little upset. They knew that Jonah was trying to flee from the presence of the Lord, because he had told them when he got on the ship. They asked Jonah what he thought they should do to him, so that the storm would stop. Jonah told them that he knew this was happening, because of him and that if they wanted the storm to stop, they should cast him into the sea.

The men rowed with all their might; fighting the wind and the current and the waves, trying to make it to land. No matter what they tried however, they were unable to overcome the sea. Finally, the men cried out; "We beseech thee, O LORD, we beseech thee, let us not perish for this man's life, and lay not upon us innocent blood: for thou, O LORD, hast done as it pleased thee."

Then, they took Jonah and cast him into the sea. As they did, immediately "the sea ceased from her raging" and then men worshipped and believed in the God of Jonah. Unbeknownst to Jonah, the Bible says; "the LORD had prepared a great fish to swallow up Jonah. And Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights." I want you to make sure and take note here, that the Bible says; "the LORD had prepared a great fish".

I saw Joe Rogan mock and berate a young, Christian man one time, on a video about this story. He was telling the guy how ridiculous it was, for people to believe that a man could get swallowed by a whale; live in its belly for three days and three nights and live to tell about it. I am not just trying to pick on Joe Rogan, by mentioning this one instance. There have been many critics that have said to interpret the book of Jonah, as a parable or allegory and not as literal history.

They have done so, for various reasons of their own. Some reject the story on the grounds that this would have been a miraculous event; thus making it narrative in its form, not historical. The people who say this, mostly do so because admittedly, they deny the possibility of miracles altogether, in the first place. In that case, it really does not matter what kind of fish it was. You may as well call it a catfish.

In reality, the book of Jonah professes to give an account of what actually took place in the experience of Jonah, the prophet. If you do not believe that this actually happened, then in effect; you are saying that the God who created the heavens and the earth and everything in them, could not also create, or "prepare a great fish" to swallow Jonah and hold him there, for three days and three nights. The simplicity of this; to an all-knowing, omnipresent, all-powerful, Creator of all things and these people say it is ridiculous.

At any rate, Jonah prayed and pleaded with God for three days and three nights, in the belly of this fish. I imagine it smelled fantastic. (dripping with obvious sarcasm) Jonah described it as "the belly of hell". He said God had cast him, "into the deep, in the midst of the seas; and the floods compassed me about: all thy billows and thy waves passed over me." He added that he "went down to the bottoms of the mountains", where "the earth with her bars was about me for ever". Close to death, Jonah recalled; "The waters compassed me about, even to the soul: the depth closed me round about, the weeds were wrapped about my head."

In short, it sounds to me like God turned Jonah over, to exactly what he asked for and hid Jonah from His presence. Eventually however, Jonah says that just as his soul was fainting him; "the LORD spake unto the fish, and it vomited out Jonah upon the dry land".

The Lord spoke to Jonah again and told him the same thing he told him the first time; Go to Nineveh and preach against their wickedness. This time, Jonah did what God told him to do. The result was; the people of Nineveh repented and God spared their city, because they turned from their wicked ways.

I told you that story to tell you this one. When I was little; as far back as I can remember, I was preaching. My Mother had cassette tapes, that she had recorded and kept of me, for a long time. I was five years old and I was preaching this very story of Jonah, to all the ladies in my Mom's choir-practice group. I was serious about it too. I kept those old ladies in line. Ha!

My Dad was a Methodist Pastor for around thirty years of his life. Maybe I was mimicking him. I can tell you this for sure, however. I did not want to be a preacher. My Dad was a big, loud, round, jolly, fat man, like Santa Clause as a Christian Pastor. I would make him laugh all over himself, from time to time, when people would ask me what I was going to be, when I grew up.

I always answered the same way, which over time made it funnier to my Dad and Grandparents, until it eventually became a "thing" at our house. I would say; "I don't know what I am going to do yet. I have not decided. I can tell you this. I know what it will not be. It absolutely will not be a preacher." My Dad would just be rolling, laughing with my grandparents and he would always ask why, even though I always answered the same way.

I would say; "Nope. Not going to preach. Y'all are always broke. You are always having to go to somebody's funeral or go visit somebody in the hospital, or some other depressing thing.

Oh, we have to wait 40 minutes after church, and dang near starve to death, because some old fart wants to talk to you about some thing or the other, trying to plan for nine Wednesday's from now. I have no idea what I'll be doing nine Wednesday's from now, nor do I care about nine Wednesday's from now, until at least seven Wednesday's from now, have passed." I was seven.

That may not have done it for you, but my Dad and Grandparents and my Aunt's and Uncle's and everybody, thought it was hilarious.

Then, shortly after being a toddler, things got bad for a while. My mom had left my dad for no reason. She said she just didn't want to be married and be a preacher's wife anymore. My dad fell apart and moved away. We started having Christmas and Thanksgiving and birthdays with my mom's friends, who I thought were my cousins and aunts and uncles.

A few years into thinking this was my reality, a scandal broke out in the family. Apparently, my mom had been financing trips for her and her girlfriends to go and party out of town. These parties resulted in my mom's best friend cheating on and divorcing her husband, the choir director at the church and one of the best men I've ever known.

My mom had been a Sargeant in the Army. She was a tough looking, masculine kind of woman. She wore her hair short, and she worked hard, in a chemical plant with only one other woman and about a hundred men. Naturally, everyone assumed my mom and her friends were lesbians and going out of town together because of that relationship, that they were trying to hide.

We are not talking about progressive San Franciso in the 2000's. We're talking 1983, in one horse town, Alabama. So literally overnight, my mom was kicked out of their family, which meant so was I. No more family holidays or birthdays. I was not even allowed to really come around what I thought were my cousins anymore. From that point on, it was me and my mom against the world.

We became very close and had one of the best mom/son bonds anyone could ever ask for. Now she was alone though. Her parents had already passed away. She had a brother who lived in Washington, nine hours away, who I had met once. Everybody was gone.

Having to take care of us by herself and making several bad investments, she was forced to get a second job. On average, she got up at 5:30 a.m. and went to work until 3:00 p.m. She came home, changed clothes and went to her second job until 11:00 p.m. Basically, I had to take care of myself. I had to get myself to school, cook, wash and dry and iron my clothes and pass the grades.

This is when things got even worse. By thirteen, looking for a family, I joined a gang. Not only did I join the gang, but I was promoted three times by the time I was sixteen. I was dangerous on two levels. I was hurt and felt useless to my very soul, and I was smart. I was one of those kids who tested out really high on the IQ tests, but made C's in everything and barely showed up enough to pass anyway. "Smart kid. Heard he made a 141 on his IQ test." "Yeah, but he's a waste from over there in that bad neighborhood and his mom's a lesbian."

I had lost nearly all of my conscience towards my fellow man. I felt almost no remorse in anything I did wrong or sin I committed. The only thing I wouldn't do is hurt kids or sexually disrespect a woman. Everything else was fair game.

After a shoot-out when I was sixteen, my mom decided to send me to the 80% white school, one town over, moving me from the 75% black school with the gangs. I mention this in this manner because of two reasons. One, we lied to get me in the school, saying we had moved to that town and the school investigators knew it. If I got in any trouble, one fight, anything, they were looking for a reason to throw me out of there. That would mean back in the gang and today I would either be in jail or dead. There is no question about it.

I mentioned the black versus white ratio also for this reason. Yes, at the white school, the gangs were gone. However, all the drugs and guns and everything else that were sold in the black neighborhood I lived in, I found them in the homes of the rich, white kids I now went to school with.

As a matter of fact, I have done almost every drug known to man, other than shoot up with a needle. I never once did drugs. I never even smoked a cigarette, until I went to the 80% white school. The entire time I was in the gang, I was always on call, or I was the designated driver, or I was the planner. I usually needed to be sober. I drank a little, every now and then, but that was it. It was not until all the beautiful high school girls at the 80% white school were doing drugs and wanted me to do it with them. That is when I got into it.

Before that year was out, my mom kicked me out of the house. She came home early from work one day and caught me having sex in my room, with my girlfriend. I was a homeless, couch surfer at that point, for about the next year. Along with their couches, I borrowed clothes and showers from a couple of friends of mine for about the next year, skipping back and forth between houses if their parents ever started asking questions.

During this time, I lost my grandfather, who was more like my dad than granddad. I am half Native American Indian and the only other Native I knew at the new 80% white school, who I had been friends with before I even transferred there, was murdered. At the same time, another friend of mine from my old school and a member of my gang, had been found murdered also, but unrecognizable. They did this so his mother couldn't give him an open casket funeral.

I went to go see his brother, who was a year older than us and also higher up in the gang. He told me that his brother who was murdered, had been selling drugs for some crooked police in a neighboring town. He told me he knew who killed his brother and he was going to kill them all. I never saw him again. He was found dead within a week of me talking to him that day.

Another member of the gang got arrested for dealing drugs about two weeks after this and was back on the street the next day. You may be thinking, "yeah, the judicial system is terrible". In our world, that meant he had flipped. Saying someone flipped, meant they were a snitch, or working with the cops as informants.

This would not normally have been a big deal to me. I was already at another school and spending most of my time in another town. The problem is this particular person was the guy who put me in or sponsored me to get into the gang. That means he was higher ranking than me and I was about to become susceptible to being set up.

I'm trying to think of a way out now. I could split and just leave town, but I only have one year of high school left. I have walked through rain and snow and hundred-degree Alabama days, mile after mile, after mile, to and from that school my entire life, until now. I have one last year left, at a cushy, Nerfy school. If I split, it is all for nothing.

I could go above my gang boss, to his boss. I could tell him I'm nervous and my guy is snitching. Maybe he would give me a break and let me out easy. Then again, I would be snitching on my boss to him, and he might take offense to that, think I am the snitch and take me out. He may think we're all snitches and take us all out. You never know quite what to do in these situations, but if you play it wrong, you could die.

I got up from my bed and walked to the kitchen to get something to drink and as I turn the corner, there he is. My boss is knocking on my door. My heart sank as I motioned him to come inside. He spoke to my mom briefly and asked me if he could talk to me alone for a minute. He looked serious, which was odd because he was normally a jokester who smiled a lot. I took him back to my room, grabbed two chairs and set them up at the foot of my bed so we could sit down.

He looked at me straight in the eye and said, "I'm putting you out." I said, "You're putting me out? What are you talking about?" He continued, "Look man. A lot of stuff is going down. Heat (meaning cops) is about to come down on everybody. It's about to get heavy. I don't really know what's going to happen. But you're the only person who has a chance to get out. You can go to college man. You've never been anything but loyal and solid and because of that, I'm putting you out."

Now, this made me nervous. To be "put out" means you are actually getting beat out. That means the guy who put you in and five other guys beat you until you are leaking blood and probably in the hospital. Blood in, blood out. I wasn't a "Blood" as in the gang. I'm saying, that is how it works. The guy who put me in, my boss? At the time, he was 6'7" 340 pounds. Let's just say, I wasn't.

I said, "So, I don't have a say so. You're just putting me out and now I have to go fight y'all?" He said, "No man. No way. We are not doing that to you. If anyone says anything about it, we'll say you're not out. We'll say you went neutral and to mind their business." "Neutral" means you're not out, but not in either. You can't call for help from the gang or be a part of any gang activity if you're neutral, but at the same time, you're in good standing and not targeted as a snitch.

We shook hands, hugged, and I was out. Free. I was free! I couldn't believe it! I was speechless. I just sat there in that chair in front of my bed for the longest time, in disbelief.

I did my last year of high school like a ninja in the shadows. I started dating the most goody, two shoes girl I could find. I kept my head down, did the work I had to do to graduate and prepared to leave town. I didn't even know where yet. I just knew I was gone as quick as I could figure it out.

The one thing I had with my dad growing up was Auburn University. My dad was a huge Auburn supporter, attended games of nearly every sport, donated money and he took me to games with him many times. Nobody loved Auburn like my dad. The man had the Auburn Tiger fight song played at his funeral. Enough said?

Because I always had that Auburn connection with him, I became a pretty big Auburn fan myself. So, I worked for a year landscaping, saved up $1500, married Miss Goody Two Shoes and left for Auburn. Yes, I was too young to get married. Yes, it turned out to be a disaster. Yes, I worked and helped put her through Auburn and then got divorced. Yes, it was the mistake of my life because she turned out to be a five-alarm stalker for the next twenty years, who tried to ruin my life at every turn! But all that is beside the point. We don't have to talk about it.

The point is, I did that because I was so intensely dedicated to trying to do the right thing and change my life. I was tired of the club girls before I was old enough to get into the club. I was tired of the club itself and all those things normal college kids go to college and do. My life was wilder at 14 than their life at 21! I wanted to settle it down. I had no one to give me advice to tell me what the right thing to do was and I was winging it. Just doing the best I could with what I had to work with.

My dad was afraid to give me advice because he didn't want to tell me something that may be wrong. He felt really bad about not being there for me when I was a kid. He felt responsible for the way I had turned out in my school years, and he was just trying to re-establish a relationship with me. My mom disowned me a few years after I got divorced and cut me out of her will. She took the side of my ex-wife and traded her for me.

It's worth noting here that my mom was a dissociative personality. If you are not familiar with this, it is similar to multiple personality disorder, but also not dissimilar from bi-polar disorder. Basically, a person goes through trauma in their life at some point and their mind shatters. Imagine dropping a mirror on the floor and breaking it. Imagine there being five or six pieces now, instead of one solid mirror. You can see yourself in all of the mirror pieces, even though it is now broken. That's the way a dissociative personality works. You have one solid, healthy personality. Trauma happens, shattering the mind into five or six other personalities. The major problem for those that live around people like this is that these personalities do not know about each other. They are like completely different people. HOWEVER, they may not have different names and you may not be able to tell a change has happened. When I divorced, my mom switched into one of these personalities and never came out.