The War Within

Bow to Your Alters: Hollywood's Program to Split Your Spirit. Part 4 in our Series.

Becoming Your Own Handler

Once the program is installed, it slowly shifts to autopilot.

The most disturbing part of MK-Ultra isn’t just that children were tortured — it’s that they were taught to keep the torture going themselves. This is the real program: get the child to carry the whip. To split so deeply that the original self is buried, and the alter runs the show.

The techniques used weren’t metaphorical. They were clinical sadism, engineered for control. This is what victims of programming talk about, what we have seen happen to child actors as they age and actual CIA documents. My interview with Dr. Juliette Engle share her experience. I have a cousin who went through the same thing and wrote a book about it also. The spitting of the psyche into alters like this is dramatic. Hollywood’s techniques are slightly more subtle, but just as effective.

MK Ultra Programming involves:

• LSD and other hallucinogens to distort reality and weaken identity.

• Spinning on wheels until vertigo created an out-of-body state — total disorientation.

• Public humiliation to collapse the ego.

• Rape and sexual abuse, often ritualized, to sever the soul from the body.

• Electroshock therapy to wipe memories clean, create blank slates for reprogramming.

• Sleep deprivation to break down thought patterns and induce hallucinations.

Sleep deprivation is a weapon dressed as insomnia. It doesn’t leave bruises. But it cuts off access to your own healing, replenishing, and LEARNING mechanisms. When we’re denied deep sleep, our bodies cannot repair, our nervous systems cannot recalibrate, and our minds cannot process or protect against suggestion. Deep sleep is when we learn, integrate, and spiritually anchor. Without it, the soul becomes untethered. The mind becomes porous. The body becomes weak. That vulnerability is the goal.

The Preferred Drink Of Slaves

They want you wired. Stimulated. Rushing. On edge. Numb. They want your sleep interrupted and your consciousness fragmented, and they will serve it to you in a paper cup with your name written on it and a smiley face.

That’s what Fight Club really sells: the glorification of dissociation and sleeplessness. Tyler Durden is born not just from trauma, but from insomnia.

With insomnia, nothing is real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy of a copy.That’s not edgy — that’s a program.

But for now, just know this: they don’t want you sleeping. They don’t want you rested, restored, or rooted in your body. Why do you think there’s a coffee shop on every corner? I wrote an article called “The Preferred Drink of Slaves” to break it down: caffeine keeps your system in a state of chronic stimulation, pushing your adrenals and flooding your body with cortisol. You’re borrowing energy from a bank account that’s already empty — and the repayment comes straight out of your body. Minerals are pulled from your bones. Muscle tissue is broken down. Myelin — the protective coating on your nerves — begins to fray. That’s the real cost of your morning ritual.

Fight Club knew exactly what it was doing. There’s a Starbucks coffee cup in every scene: not only as product placement, but as programming. Sleep deprivation is rebranded as cool, rebellious, required. Coffee becomes the symbol of control dressed up as freedom. It’s not if you drink caffeine, but what way you drink caffeine. It is so infused and normalized that we are hard pressed to find someone who doesn’t drink it. And it worked. Starbucks sales skyrocketed after the film and most viewers were unaware of the paper cup with the satanic symbol in every scene until it was pointed out. And they point it out so they can effectively work on your conscious and unconscious programming. What began as a critique of consumerism became one of its most powerful commercials. That’s how ritual works: you mock the cage, then sell it as the cure.

The Starbucks logo isn’t just a brand. It’s a ritual inscription, and satanic in its symbolism. The twin-tailed siren is based on Melusine, a mythological creature often portrayed with her legs spread, a posture of sexual invitation, domination, and seduction. In esoteric tradition, this siren represents the inverted feminine, a predator disguised as a goddess. The open tails mimic legs, inviting the observer to submit, consume, and unknowingly participate in a spell.

This isn’t just visual manipulation. It’s energetic. Researchers like Masaru Emoto and Veda Austin have shown that water holds memory, and its structure changes based on intention, words, and symbols. Every time you drink from a Starbucks cup, the liquid inside has been sitting beneath a sigil of seduction and spiritual bondage. If words like “love” and “gratitude” can form crystalline beauty, what does a twin-tailed siren of enslavement do to your nervous system, to your cells, to your soul? Day after day, week after week, year after year?

This is how modern programming works. Not just through abuse, but through habits. Through language. Through the everyday spells we cast on ourselves without knowing:
“God, I’m such an idiot.”
“I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached.”
“I’m having a senior moment.”

The external abuse becomes internal obedience.
The voice of the handler becomes your inner voice.
The program runs.
The prisoner thanks the cage and starts to decorate it to make it more comfortable.

Media’s Creation of the War Within

They don’t want you whole. They want you divided. And worshiping your handlers creating the fracture.

Hollywood doesn’t tell stories. It gives the public a template to follow. And in that template, self-destruction is framed as bravery. Pain becomes purpose. Dissociation becomes a badge of honor.

In Black Swan, Nina claws at her skin, pulls imaginary feathers from her body, and watches herself split in two. Her mind unravels slowly, elegantly, under soft lighting and orchestral swells. The audience doesn’t recoil — they lean in. The worse she gets, the more mesmerizing it becomes. Her breakdown is framed as beauty. Her death is not just a tragedy, it’s transcendence. When she whispers, “I was perfect,” she’s not just finishing a performance. She’s completing a ritual.

The director, the actors, the industry, they are presenting you with a choice. Will you clap for the pain? Will you applaud the sacrifice?

The audience becomes complicit, activating the spell through their voyeurism. Somewhere, a little girl is watching. She sees the ballet, the standing ovation, the dying swan. And she decides she wants to be that. She wants to become the hidden horror the public admires. Because that’s what’s been dressed up as love.

In Split, the man with 24 personalities becomes stronger with each division. He evolves by becoming less himself. His final alter, “The Beast,” is presented not as a breakdown but a breakthrough. Viewers are told his trauma gave him power. That his victims were necessary for his rebirth. And the actor, James McAvoy, admired and famous lights up the mirror neurons, men want to be like him, woman want to be with him.

In Moon Knight, dissociation is no longer a disorder. It’s a superpower. The fractured man is portrayed as a savior. The more fragmented he becomes, the more useful he is to the mission. Integration is never the goal. Knowing who you are doesn’t matter. Being able to switch on command does.

The promotional image for Moon Knight says it all. A masked man with no identity, a stitched face like a corpse, and a crescent moon stamped directly over his third eye. This isn’t just costume design. It’s symbolic programming. The mask represents the erased self. The stitching signals fragmentation. The moon, tied to illusion and ancient ritual, marks him as a servant of a higher, unseen force. Even the act of pulling on a glove mimics a ritual transformation, like a handler preparing for painful control. In the show, his DID is framed as a superpower. But the truth is on his face. He’s a weapon in a suit, built from trauma, programmed to control those around him to ultimately serve his master who made him.

The same pattern runs through Joker, Mr. Robot, and American Psycho. The protagonist is ignored, abused, ridiculed. Then one day, he snaps. He lashes out, often violently. And the audience roots for him. Because the spell has already been cast: pain makes you special. Madness makes you free.

These characters don’t return to their true selves. They don’t reclaim anything. They fully become integrated into the alters. They disappear into the fracture. And that’s exactly the point. Hollywood doesn’t want you to recover. It wants you to identify with your brokenness. To feel seen by your own suffering. To dress up your wound and proudly show the world. Because once you’ve bonded with the part of you that isn’t real, you’ll fight to protect it. You’ll think the split is who you are.

It isn’t.

It’s the result of a system that trains you to turn on yourself and call it strength. And we’ve been cheering for it the whole time.

Coffee, Chaos, and Consumerism

They sold us our chains in a cup with our name on it.

Once you notice the coffee cup in every scene, or the pot of coffee in every single movie ever made, it follows you. It’s not just a prop. It’s the metronome of film: caffeine, insomnia, agitation and chaos, the quiet rhythm of collapse. Tyler Durden isn’t just born from trauma. He’s born from exhaustion. Sleeplessness is his soul. The more he frays, the more he’s glorified.

We’re told he’s raw. Powerful. Awake. But what we’re really watching is a man who hasn’t slept, running on fumes, unraveling in style. And it works. My son watched the movie recently at a friends house and is now obsessed with Edward Norton. He elevated him to hero status, a total bad ass.

And we are copying the program as if it was written on our brainwaves. We open our eyes and reach for the scroll. Before our feet touch the ground, we’ve jacked our nervous system into cortisol, caffeine, and noise. We call it normal. We call it productivity. But what it really is? Voluntary slavery and soul submission.

Stimulation has replaced rest. Performance has replaced presence. We don’t collapse anymore. We “grind.” We don’t suffer. We “hustle.” We don’t dissociate, we just say we’re tired. The tired lines that always get a laugh “I’ll sleep when I’m dead”

Starbucks, IKEA, Apple, Whole Foods — they’ve learned how to package the cage. The new slavery is aesthetic. You pick your poison based on the color palette. You decorate your prison cell. You call it identity.

Fight Club tried to warn us. But the message got swallowed. We didn’t question the system. We bought the poster. We quoted Tyler Durden in college dorm rooms and kept drinking the coffee. The critique became the commercial.

No one noticed. That’s how the spell works.

The Alter Room Is the New Church

Pain has been turned into sacrament. The split self has become divine.

We don’t just watch these stories. We worship them. The girl who claws her skin in Black Swan. The man who murders strangers in American Psycho. The joker who dances through blood, laughing through trauma. We bow to them. We dress like them. We quote them. Their pain becomes mythology, and their breakdown becomes gospel.

This is the new church. Not built in stone, but broadcast in pixels. The altar isn’t stained with wine or ash, it’s backlit and perfectly framed. We don’t kneel before a god. We kneel before a character who no longer knows who they are. According to interviews I have done, I can safely conclude that you are not an actor in Hollywood with any sizeable audience unless you have been traumatized, split, and completely controlled. Then they give them a handler who keeps them on a very short leash. We see it when they publically break as their programming dictates. Either they self destruct or terminate their life.

The alter, the fractured personality, is the goal. The one with the most trauma becomes the most admired. The more broken, the more holy. Hollywood has made self-hate into a virtue. Fragmentation into empowerment. Dissociation into aesthetic. Because you are easily manipulated into poisoning and harming yourself when you are split. United we stand, divided we fall. It’s even written in our Nations Give.

And the audience participates in the ritual. We clap when Nina dies. We cheer when the Joker kills. We empathize with the man in Split who becomes a beast. No one asks what happens to the real self. No one mourns the soul that was lost.

Because we’ve been trained to think the soul doesn’t matter. Only the mask. Only the alter.

The alter is elevated. The original is erased.

The screen becomes the altar. The ritual is repetition. The spell is cast each time we watch pain and call it power.

We don't just accept the fracture. We anoint it. We make it sacred.

Wild Beasts Don’t Do This — But We Do

Animals in nature don’t attack themselves. They don’t starve, scratch, or mutilate their own bodies. They don’t bite their own limbs or pull out their hair. Only caged animals do that.

I saw it firsthand in India. I volunteered to work with Mahouts and their elephants to take fat lazy selfie obsessed tourists on rides to the old forts. I stayed in their homes and helped them with the elephants. Which is code to say, we helped the families cage these majestic creatures so they can survive financially. It’s still difficult for me to even think about it 10 years later. One juvenile elephant, kept in chains (as they all were) would neurotically rock herself back and forth for hours until she collapsed from exhaustion. She was trying to force her mind into the rhythm of the cage. It was the only way she could survive captivity. Her wildness hadn’t been trained out of her. It had been turned against her. We cry over the injustice in the animal kingdom, but have no issue seeing it in ourselves or our neighbors. Then we applaud it.

That’s what happens to children in systems of control. At first they resist. But eventually, the pressure has to go somewhere. And so it turns inward. The child in the classroom who hates being inside, having the majority of their childhood stolen, memorizing meaningless facts and figures. Obeying rules and acquesing as they can’t fight the system forever. If they have any fight left in them, we give them methamphetamines and drugs to beat the last of the spirit out of them. They start to hate themselves, believe they are the problem. They think something is wrong with them. They learn to sit still, raise their hand, speak when called on, even begin believe the idiots spewing absolute gibberish to memorize be tested on.

Then inside, something splits. They are the elephant rocking back and forth until the spirit finally goes dormant. The cage becomes internal. The war becomes quiet.

This is why MK-Ultra works. You don’t need the torture to continue forever. You just need to make sure the child eventually picks up the baton and keeps going. They rock themselves to sleep. They voice their own neurotic thoughts. They suppress every impulse that once told them they were alive.

Nature doesn’t do this. Children don’t do this unless they’re broken. This is not survival. This is programming. And we’ve learned to call it education. The more the better.

End the Fight, Reclaim the Self

A child who is abused will often grow up and find someone who abuses them again. Not because they want to suffer, but because the wound is familiar. They finally found the teeth to fit the wound. It’s easier to find someone who causes the pain than to beat yourself to a pulp. We confuse that for love because we never knew it in the first place.

The alternative is harder. It means turning inward and meeting the fractured self. The part we exiled. The one who was too soft, too wild, too loud, too tender. The one we silenced to survive. The elephant breaking free of her chains and spiriting her life they way she feels deep in her soul.

But the war was never meant to be permanent. The alter isn’t who you are. The self-hate was never yours to carry. It was installed. And the ritual can be undone.

You don’t need to claw your skin to feel real. You don’t need to perform your pain to be loved. You don’t need to hustle, grind, or caffeinate your way into worth.

They taught you that the fracture was your power. It isn’t. Your power is what came before it. The part of you they tried to erase.

Turn off the Screens. Stop Fighting yourself. Stop Poisoning Yourself. Stop allowing your handlers to tell you what to put in and on your body. Stop Listening to anyone guide you but Yourself and God. Break their imaginary Chains. That’s how the program ends.