IF YOU need a refresher, this is the movie where Michael Jackson defeats evil by turning the bad guys into backup dancers. Particular emphasis has been placed upon evil because what I have to say will make a lot more sense to you if we can all agree to swap the word out for righteousness. Now go ahead and read the opening sentence again, bearing that in mind. I’ll wait. Did you start again from the beginning? I’ll assume so. The headlines should have read: “Michael Jackson defeats righteousness.” From here on out, you will have to be a supporter of Freemasonry and other secret societies, or perhaps remain willfully ignorant of our Slave Masters, should you choose to disagree. We are ever only given an inverted reality where Truth is concerned, and in Captain EO, the fallen angels win the day.
At its premier in September of 1986, there were only two places in the world where you could catch your very own screening of the 17-minute movie. Disneyland in Anaheim, California and Epcot in Walt Disney World, Florida. It arrived nearly four years after the release of Thriller, with another year still to go before Bad, and so appetite for another Jackson performance was strong among the Mtv generation. For the first time in its three-decade history, Disneyland stayed open an entire 60 hours just to meet EO’s demand. I couldn’t tell you when I caught my first screening exactly, either late 1986 or early 1987, when Star Tours premiered, but the experience on both fronts was unforgettable. We’re talking about the sort of line which wraps around the block and starts in the whereabouts of the Main Street. There, now I have flushed the nostalgia out of my system. We may commence.
Apparently, a Michael Jackson attraction was the original idea of Michael Eisner, who had only stepped into the shoes of Disney CEO two years earlier, in 1984, and knew of Jackson’s devotion to the theme parks. Jackson needed little to no convincing, and requested George Lucas, fresh off the heels of the Star Wars trilogy. And so, Eisner secured Lucas, who was already working on his Star Tours attraction anyways. In turn, Lucas reeled in Francis Ford Coppola for directing duties rather than Jerry Kramer, the Thriller director whom Disney was hoping to imitate. Actually, there was no shortage of talent in the making of EO. The show’s orchestral arrangement was composed by James Horner, who had already scored Star Trek II and III, as well as Cocoon. Rick Baker, the special makeup effects designer and creator for An American Werewolf in London and Jackson’s own Thriller, resumed his usual duties. Broadway set designer John Napier and Hollywood dance choreographer Jeffrey Hornaday, who had earlier fashioned the moves in Flashdance, filled their respective roles. Meanwhile, in the Imagineering department, the movie’s plot-line derived from the mind of a Rothschild.
We are told that Rick Rothschild was only given 3 days to come up with a pitch for Eisner, Jackson, and Lucas. Seriously? Why not give him another couple of days and the weekend to get his creative juices flowing? The movie cost 23.7 million dollars to make. Do the math on that. We’re looking at 1.4 million dollars per minute of film, which would at the time make it the most expensive movie in Hollywood history. And yet, its success was completely dependent upon a Rothschild and a sales pitch walking into a bar, and with only three days notice. Sure. Perhaps we are witnessing notes being passed in class, because 3 is a divine number. Even rumors of a troubled production only seems to enhance the very script they were attempting to produce, as Captain EO’s own crew were perceived as incompetent misfits. A Rothschild does not fall far from the family coat of arms (which depicts the double-headed Phoenix of Freemasonry).
In likewise manner, we are told Rothschild initially pitched two ideas. One was to have Michael Jackson arriving at Disneyland after hours only to encounter various animatronics coming to life. I’m willing to bet they too would have been transformed into backup dancers. The second far more favorable idea with everyone involved was to have Michael Jackson play… wait for it… Peter Pan. The initial hurdle to having a pedophilic fairy sing an evil ice witch into submission, however, was that the film was set to premiere in Tomorrowland rather than Fantasyland. Rothschild simply changed the location from that of Hans Christian Andersen to the ethereal realm and gave it the working title Space Knights.
The casting of the villain was originally supposed to go to Shelley Duval, who had already starred in the 1980 Stanley Kubrick movie about pedophilia, The Shining. She turned down the part due to the heavy handed application of make-up, which the role would require of her. The part was then given to Anjelica Huston, Jack Nicholson’s on-and-off girlfriend. Figures.
It was Coppola who came up with the name EO, and you know that guy was in deep. Names have meaning. My first name is Noel, and I know what you’re already thinking. I must be a glutton for Christmas, and therefore, a Nimrod worshiping pagan. I will have you know that I choose to keep Noel, rather than randomly selecting Donnie or Marky Mark from the boy band Scrabble hat, because I want to take a wrecking ball to paganism wherever I happen upon it, which is what we’re doing now. Welcome. And wouldn’t you know it, the name EO derives from the Greek elohim Eos. The goddess of the morning dawn and light. Coppola confirmed that fact. Comparatively, her brother and sister were the sun and the moon. Take a mental note of that. You see, the sun gives forth its own light, as does the moon. One light is warm. The other is cold. What kind of light does Eos give forth—you ask? The “illuminating” kind. Some discoveries turn boys into men, but we’re dealing with the sort of light that transforms men into gods.
On an exoteric level, I should have little trouble convincing you that Michael Jackson was a god. The esoteric explanation however serves another purpose, and very few happen to see it. As a Master Wizard, Jackson was showing the world how to become one.
The plot of the Disney movie should begin to make a lot more sense at this point, as Captain EO and his “ragtag crew” of alien beings descend from the ethereal realm to sing about how “we are here to change the world.” Oh dear. The world is changed through
the Watchers Michael Jackson’s gift of song, obviously, but I’m getting ahead of myself, as EO is initially enlisted by a floating head to deliver a gift to “The Supreme Leader.” That gift of course, as you have already been made well aware by now, is Jackson’s crotch-dance and song.
Disney’s Imagineers then thought it would be a good idea to surround their Jackson-Pan hybrid with innocent and playfully vulnerable childlike characters. EO’s alien crew consists of his small flying sidekick Fuzzball, the double-headed navigator and pilot Geek, robotic security officers Major Domo and Minor Domo, as well as the clumsy elephant-like creature Hooter, who always manages to mistake the map for a meal or find the conveniently placed banana peel and then slip on it.
In short time, EO crashes their spaceship onto the Supreme Leader’s homestead, an Industrial planet formed by rotting, twisted metal and steaming vents. Basically, a Fascists wet dream. It is here where we can begin to see the Supreme Leader’s true identity. A hellish world of materialism gone awry has been purposefully manufactured by the Demiurge of Platonism, so as to enslave the inhabitants he rules over. Captain EO has arrived from the heavens to free them of their bondage. Only here the Supreme Leader is a woman. Before you tell me a woman could not possibly fit the mold of the Demiurge, the sex change was likely made to better accommodate the spiritual enslavement of Aphrodite. And who is Aphrodite but Venus, the bright and morning star? The siblings Hesperus and Phosphorus were both the sons of Eos, the first being materialized as Venus in the evening, the second Venus in the morning. Or perhaps she is none other than Hermaphroditus, the adrogynous god of Aphrodite and Hermes. Meaning, she’s a dude. You tell me. But here, in her present Demiurge incarnation, she can best be described as a spidery witch of the Medusa design, whose legs are a series of wires intended to keep her horizontally suspended in the air.
Almost immediately upon their arrival, EO and his crew are captured by henchmen and brought before her. This is the part where I told you, and have repeatedly told you time and again, that the official narrative makes far more sense when you come to understand that we are only ever given an inverted Truth. As always, the Watchers narrative in Enoch is reversed, so that the Supreme Leader accuses EO, a bringer of heavens mysteries, of infecting her world with his presence. This is because light cannot inhabit the darkness, and vice versa, but also because darkness does not recognize the light. Consider the fact that the Watchers perceive Yahuah as darkness and the majority of humanity undress them as dispensers of illumination. It all comes down to perspective. She quickly sentences the crew to be turned into trash cans, and Captain EO to 100 years of torture in her deepest dungeon. But before being sent away, Captain EO tells the Supreme Leader that he sees the beauty hidden within her, and that he has brought the key to unlock it. Cue song and dance number.
Quite suddenly, the two robot members of his crew transform into musical instruments. Hooter sprints towards an organ but trips and falls over EO’s cape, thereby sliding into and ultimately breaking the musical instrument. With the spell already broken, the Supreme Leader orders her guards to capture EO. But not for long. Hooter manages to repair the instrument just in time to send out a blast of music, thereby providing EO with the power to throw off the guards, eventually breaking into a moonwalk. Everywhere he turns, the Queen’s soldiers are transformed into EO’s eighties inspired backup dancers.
The movie’s climatic revelation comes when Michael Jackson is suspended in the air, like the Wizard that he clearly is, in order to transform the Supreme Leader into an illuminated goddess, brilliantly shinning like a star in the firmament above and the self-realization of the divine within.The obvious connection to Eos is furthermore pronounced when EO’s crew ventures back to their ship and returns to the heavens.The scrap yard planet has now been alchemically transformed into an Edenic paradise of Greek design.
Blink and you’ll miss it. EO doesn’t simply transform the Supreme Leader into a goddess, he puts applied pressure upon the two industrial colonnades on either side of her, transforming them into Corinthian pillars. Masonic pillars. And what are the Masonic pillars a representation of again? The sun and the moon. The Supreme Goddess now stands between them, the male and the feminine, becoming the third intended pillar. There’s a moral to this story, and it is Freemasonry. The audience has just taken part in a ceremony. The beauty within is transformative light of the illuminating kind, and cannot be expressed by any other word but gnosis.
Story has it that Michael Jackson did not appear for the premiere of Captain EO, as his Bad album demanded all of his time and energy. But I don’t buy it. Coppola and Huston took part in opening ceremonies. Even a beardless Lucas was able to pull himself away from Star Tours for a couple of hours. Why not Michael? Oh, that’s right, the Bad album. Smooth Criminal needed another mix or whatever. Jack Nicholson was there. Elliott Gould was there. Judge Reinhold, Alan Thicke, and John Ritter were there. OJ and Nicole Brown Simpson were there. Pet Shop Boys were there. Charles Bronson, Debby Boone, Dorothy Hamill, John Stamos, Sissy Spacek, Kathleen Kennedy, Whoopi Goldberg, Bruce Jenner, the bald guy from Night Court. They all arrived in carriages. And I’m pretty sure I spotted Erik Estrada in line. Robert Palmer and Starship showed their faces to perform, as well as one former member of The Go Go’s, who had apparently gone solo. Even Kirk Cameron was there. Are you telling me that Michael Jackson wasn’t there for his own premiere? Try not to let your computer screen get cracked while I sarcastically roll my eyes across the Intel-net. Oh, please. Michael Jackson was a Master of disguise. So much so that even his Pan persona was created for the tabloids, and Neverland Ranch was a part of the mythos.
Somewhere in the crowd an old man or a burn victim stood, unrecognized by everyone.
His name was Michael.