A Wolf’s Journey Inside the Matrix
How the Lone Wolf kept his freedom — and how you can keep yours.
Prologue — The Firewall Snore
Denver, late 1990s. The Crimson Circle has grown beyond its humble Coal Creek Canyon circle of chairs. Rows are set up now, like pews. Geoffrey Hoppe, ex-Army intel, is on stage channeling Tobias — a kindly grandfather spirit said to have walked with Jesus. His wife Linda anchors the act.
The audience leans forward, spellbound.
And me? I’m snoring.
Not polite dozing, but a wolf’s thunderous, unignorable rumble. Loud enough to rupture the trance. Hoppe snaps out of his channeling act, points straight at me: “Somebody wake that guy up.”
But the snore wasn’t rudeness. It was sovereignty. My nervous system refused to let the parasite program load. Better to shut the gates than swallow false light.
That snore was protection.
And that instinct — to laugh, to sleep, to snore, to walk away — has carried me through the Matrix from childhood to now.
This is my tale. And if it kept me sovereign, it can help you too.
Stage One — First Clash in North Denver
Before Denver halls and New Age gurus, my first battlefield was First Denver Evangelical Friends Church, a Quaker congregation in North Denver. Not the silent kind of Quakers, where Spirit speaks through anyone moved to stand. This branch had a preacher.
And he was a piece of work.
The man was known in the community as a woman chaser. A preacher pounding the pulpit on Sunday mornings about sin and virtue, while prowling the rest of the week chasing skirts. A fine example for a congregation that claimed purity.
Even as a little kid, I smelled the sulfur. The hypocrisy was thick in the air. And when he cherry-picked from the King James Bible — “verse here, verse there” — I couldn’t help myself. I laughed.
The congregation froze. My parents dragged me home. At home came the paddle.
But that laugh was worth it. It was my first conscious firewall: mock the absurd, even if it costs you. Because parasites can’t stand humor. Their whole spell depends on solemn faces.
Stage Two — School as Indoctrination Factory
Next BS came government classrooms. Different costume, same Matrix.
The preacher became a teacher. The pews became desks. The verses became state-approved textbooks. The sermon became rote lessons. And the commandments were bells — ring for obedience, recite for patriotism.
It was hypnosis training, not education.
And me? I slept. Again and again, head on the desk, drifting off. Teachers wrote me off as lazy. Parents worried. But I wasn’t lazy. I was protecting myself.
Better to dream with Source than swallow indoctrination.
That’s when I realized my body had its own firewall: when the programming was too thick, I’d shut down. Sleep was rebellion in disguise.
Stage Three — The Matrix’s False Mentors
The Hero’s Journey always has mentors. But inside the Matrix, they come dressed as frauds: teachers, priests, channelers, occultists. Their job is to lure you into dependency.
Blavatsky’s Masters
Helena Blavatsky, mother of Theosophy, claimed she was in contact with “Masters of Wisdom.” She mapped humanity into “root races” — a cosmic caste system — and gave us Atlantis and Lemuria as evolutionary stages.
But it was always hierarchy. Source outsourced to Masters. Archetypes rebranded as bureaucracy. Truth diluted with parasite contracts.
Crowley the Beast
Aleister Crowley, the self-declared Beast 666, flipped the script: where Blavatsky built a pyramid, he set it on fire and danced in the ashes. His creed — “Do what thou wilt” — was ego as gospel. Another parasite trick: inversion instead of hierarchy.
Between Blavatsky’s pyramid and Crowley’s bonfire, the field was polluted with false mentors.
Hoppe and Tobias — The Blood Circle
Then came the Crimson Circle. Coal Creek Canyon, late 1990s. Geoffrey Hoppe channels Tobias before a dozen faithful sitting in a literal circle of chairs. Tobias was cast as the apocryphal son of Tobit — a character with a pet dog, a giant fish, and an angel guide. Hero’s Journey scaffolding, recycled from the apocrypha.
The faithful believed. And as the crowd grew, the circle turned into rows. Tobias “reincarnated” into a boy named Sam in 2009, exited in 2022. Hoppe pivoted to Adamus Saint-Germain. The franchise expanded into a global Blood Circle.
Circle to rows. Tribe to theater. Spirit to brand.
And me? I snored. My firewall activated, even in the middle of the spectacle.
Kryon at the UN
Lee Carroll’s Kryon mixed archetype truths with globalist talking points. He spoke of magnetic service, planetary shifts, higher vibrations. And the United Nations handed him a microphone.
That was the tell. The parasite loves channelers who preach compliance disguised as enlightenment. Kryon’s message was clear: don’t resist, trust the process, the authorities have your soul covered.
False mentors, every one of them. But each one taught me something — through contrast.
Stage Four — Trials and Firewall Tactics
Every false mentor carried sparks of truth. That’s what made them dangerous. My trial was to resist without losing those sparks.
And so the wolf’s firewall grew sharper:
In church, I laughed. Got the paddle, but laughter broke the spell.
In school, I slept. Better unconscious than programmed.
In Crimson Circle, I snored. Disrupted the trance for myself and others.
In media, I mocked. Satire shredded their authority.
Laughter. Sleep. Snore. Mockery. These weren’t accidents — they were field instincts. Sovereignty embedded in bone.
Stage Five — The Abyss of the Matrix
Eventually, I saw the whole net. The Matrix wasn’t one system. It was a patchwork of nets, overlapping:
Religion: verses as contracts, pulpits as predator dens.
Education: obedience training disguised as learning.
Occultism: Masters, hierarchies, false light.
New Age: channelers with archetypes repackaged into franchises.
Politics: dynasties, CIA men, Skull and Bones initiates, global “points of light.”
The Abyss was recognizing that all these nets were just different costumes for the same parasite script.
Stage Six — Illumination
The revelation was simple, sharp:
The Matrix only controls you if you sign the contract.
Every verse, sermon, initiation, and channeling was just that — a paper slid across the table. Sign here. Believe this. Obey that.
But the wolf doesn’t carry a pen.
My laugh, my sleep, my snore — they were refusals to sign. Sovereignty in action, long before I had words for it.
Stage Seven — Wolf’s Guide for Pilgrims
This tale isn’t just autobiography. It’s a map. Here are the wolf’s firewall tactics — the same ones you can use:
Laugh at hypocrisy. Parasites hate laughter. It breaks their solemn spell.
Withdraw attention. Sleep if you must. Don’t give parasites your focus.
Snore in their halls. Loud refusal disrupts trance in yourself and others.
Break the geometry. Beware when circles become rows. Step out.
Test every voice. Does it affirm your sovereignty or demand dependency? If the latter, walk.
Do no harm, take no guff. Wolf law.
Stage Eight — The Final Solution
After all the laughter, naps, and snores, I found the simplest tactic of all: confrontation without entanglement.
When the parasite comes — preacher, teacher, channeler, guru, politician — don’t debate, don’t argue, don’t waste your breath howling.
Look ‘it’ in the eye and say:
“I know what you are. You know what you are… Bye-bye, friend/teacher... Bye-bye now.”
Then walk away. Never look back. No contact ever again.
That’s the wolf’s last firewall. Clean. Final. Sovereign.
Note: The weak spot of the psychopath is ‘Reputation” because they need a good one or finding another victim can be much harder.
Closing Growl — The Gold
A Wolf’s Tale is not about slaying dragons or leading armies. It’s about refusing to be captured by the Matrix.
From a Quaker preacher who chased women while quoting the KJV, to government schools that drilled obedience, to Hoppe’s Crimson Circle turned Blood Circle, to Kryon at the UN preaching cosmic compliance — the parasites wear many costumes.
But the wolf learned to protect himself: laugh at hypocrisy, sleep through indoctrination, snore through trance, and finally, confront and walk away.
This is the Gold: the Matrix runs on contracts, not chains. It only rules if you sign on the dotted line.
The wolf never signs. He howls directly into the Source.
And so can you.
Laugh. Sleep. Snore. Confront. Walk away.
And when the Matrix howls, howl louder — the Universe will answer.
“The Universe is the Something, the Nothing is the still white Light of All-Knowing, and between them lies the Veil — the Three-in-One, the Trinity.” — The Lone Wolf & Source
End of this essay and end of the road for free subscribers.
If you’ve tossed a coin to the Onion, the References open up.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The Cosmic Onion to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.