BLACK PRESIDENT, Chapter 57. John Little, twin of the President, has fun extemporizing on his zen mysticism and DC's symbolic grid.

https://rationalwiki.org/wiki/Washington,_D.C._street_design_conspiracy_theory

Apr 03, 2024

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Three weeks before the 2013 New Year changeover, the Jacksons made their first visit to the White House. It was a lot like stepping into a museum. The spacious halls were wider than rooms in which they had ever lived. So it took a while to orient themselves to the vast spaces, the high ceilings and the extreme distances between rooms. When some family members spoke of getting dizzy, John addressed the little crowd. He identified the sensation as ‘a disturbance to their feng shui,’ literally translated as “wind water.” Each person carried their own brand of feng shui tied to their psyche, he explained to his President-Elect brother, mother, sister-in-law Cissy and wife Fran. He got a kick out of describing the finer points of sensing space, reiterating that all living creatures carried the desire to be aligned with their present environment.

After family members looked questioning toward John, lightly mocking his esoteric ramblings, he couldn’t help some further showing off. “Guo Pu wrote, ‘Qi rides the wind and scatters, but is retained when encountering water.”

“Boo!” said Jackson, trying to jolt his twin out of the fantasy land where he occasionally had resided since their youth. “Come on, brother. It’s just called ‘square footage’ and now I got’s me some in this big, beautiful, rent-free abode. Admit it, you’re just jealous!”

With a twinkle in his eye, John backed off, having no idea what the Guo Pu quote actually meant. Before someone could call him out on it, he knew he’d better change the subject.

“You know, Mr. President-Elect, that Washington’s streets are laid out in a Masonic triangle, the vortex spearing right here, right into the White House?”

“Hadn’t heard it,” said Jackson, distracted by the ongoing conversation with his wife about the excessive wall hangings. John disregarded his brother’s brief response and continued.

“Yeah, it’s a heptagon with Luciferian symbols. You can see it on any DC map. Just trace the main thoroughfares with a pen and you’ll get the picture.” When none of the small touring party responding, John launched into the heavier stuff, hardly missing a beat.

“Some say it’s a metaphysical grid that grants supernatural powers. The American Masonic leaders believed architecture grids could control actions on a sub-atomic level, to establish the New World Order they’ve been planning since the 1700s.”

As John continued to extemporize about the local mysticism he had learned from googling “Washington,” the soon-to-be First Lady, Cissy Little, pointed out a particularly beautiful series of early-American antiques that lined the halls. Cissy admired the cobalt blue-rimmed Tiffany serving plates – thick gold-plate coating the outer edges of the fine porcelain – as her brother-in-law continued his history lesson.

“In 1791 the Illuminists laid out the design with...um...a sort of mind control element that could operate through the ages. They believed that when a symbolic grid was in place, it would supply energy...just like solar panels or something similar might do today. It is believed that those revolutionary-era Freemasons had a plan to dominate the world. And surprisingly, there have been several who became President, and had the power to do so. FDR and Truman, for instance. They were sort of like the Skull and Bones group...only bigger. I found a website that shows the symbols right on the map, transposed over Washington streets and monuments. It’s like they accessed power that...”

“Bro!” interrupted Jackson, finally reaching his limit of tolerance. His brother’s incessant words, prattling on as he had, had replicated some of the heckling sessions his brother had spouted when they were kids.

“You know it’s all bunk,” said the future President “I think you may have spent too much time in that art camp of yours!” The whole crowd gave a laugh to the twins verbal sparring. Even John cracked a smile. He didn’t care. He knew he was on to something. While he held his tongue, practicing a recently acquired zen-like silence when challenged by an adversary, he looked forward to a future time when he could carefully review his findings with his brother, especially examining a DC street map in detail. If nothing else, he knew they’d have a future good laugh together.

The White House tour eventually brought the Little contingent to the second floor bedroom wing, where Jackson, his wife and kids would take up residence. Both couples responded well to seeing nicely-matched wall colors, tasteful drapes, expensive Tiffany lamps, Chippendale dressers, historical paintings on adjoining walls, lovely views out the windows along with the practical aspects of fine living. Most appealing to the wives were the large walk-in closets suitable for massive wardrobes. At a certain point, Sarah remembered that Jack Kennedy and his wife Jackie had also inhabited those same quarters, and it gave her a kind of shudder. Sarah had previously resisted revisiting the White House for secret reasons, but finally realized after talking with Rudy that she must face the trepidation, just join in to avoid any unwanted questions. In fact, Rudy had convinced her to actually enter the Oval Office, open the secret anteroom and relive part of her disturbing experience. Once the inauguration of the 45th President of the United States was completed, after Jackson Little took the oath of office a few weeks hence, she would finally get that chance.

Before the excursion ended, the President-Elect mentioned that the amount allotted for the physical move and transition of personnel between administrations was almost nine million dollars. Everyone agreed it seemed exorbitant. How much, Cissy and Jackson had wondered, did it actually cost the government, just to move a couple beds, a sofa and some dressers, a few racks of clothing up a flight of stairs? On top of that, a million was reserved just to acquaint the new staffers to ‘the manner in which the House was run’ (expensive training! thought Cissy) while the outgoing White House occupants would receive over two million for their exodus.

When it came time for the Little Administration staff to evacuate, in four or eight years, Jackson promised himself that he’d have his people carry out their own damn boxes and computers.

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