Second Chances

by Randy Conway

Two men standing in an alley dark,

Fear grips one, you can hear the beating of his heart.

He begs for time, for mercy, for another chance,

The reply is heard as the bullet lands,

In this game there is no second chance.

Tears coursing; by black mascara traced.

Why such pain on her young face?

Cold walls, cold halls, cold people, cold place.

No one to dry her tears, she’s just another case.

She didn’t understand the finality and pain

Of the abortionists cutting lance,

She begs, she pleads but all in vain,

Because it’s over and there is no second chance.

For some there is a moment of ecstasy

While on imagined wings that only they can see,

They meet their lover who comes intravenously.

Born on wings of hells’ design is this romance

Their lovers kiss a kiss of death and there is no second chance.

At only fourteen years of age you would not suspect,

A teenage girl would be very into sex.

But in a locker room full of boys,

She has become the locker room toy.

Now on the high school teachers desk,

She gives to him her teenage sex.

Today a new partner comes to her to dance,

His name is HIV and there’s no second chance.

No second chance in life they say

So why do I prolong it yet another day?

Death — yes death will be the ultimate solution,

Then I can end this prostitution,

Of myself to this society,

To be all the things it asks of me.

But in death what will my chances be?

I hesitate, I stop, I can’t,

I’m too afraid to take the chance,

That there might be a reality,

To this thing that’s called eternity.

In a silence created by my fear,

There is a voice I faintly hear,

Someone says, “Here are My hands”

Take hold, they are your second chance.

A second chance? Is that real I say.

Should I take the risk and kneel and pray?

The voice I hear is stronger now

Timidly I bend my knees and my head bows

Could this possibly be enough?

To unscrew what I have so totally screwed up!

Is this just some religious trance

Is there for me a second chance?

Then some barely familiar words I hear

Words lost in the void of squandered years.

“While we were sinners Christ died for us”

Are these words that I can trust?

My life is in a terrible mess

But I don’t have to pass a test

Or fall into some mystic trance

It is God’s gift, my second chance.

Even though my life I’ve trashed

His love is there, and it’s a love that lasts.

And how amazing it is to see

That God does love even ME.

I repent of all the things I’ve done

I’m willing to accept God’s only Son

For Jesus is the only one

That regardless of my circumstances

Says His blood was shed for second chances.

The knock comes but once for opportunity,

But there are no limits at Calvary.

God’s love isn’t limited to just one chance.

His love is patient, kind and just,

All we need to do is simply trust.

And He will change your depraved heart,

And give your life a brand new start.

When the game of life says, “No advances,”

When the world says, “No second chances,

Go to the God who can change your circumstances

Jesus Christ who specializes in giving second chances.

Even though He is gentle, patient and kind,

When life is over you will find

The opportunities you have before this life passes

Are the sum total of all your chances.

When you stand in the Judgement Halls vast expanses

There will be no more second chances.

By Randy Conway

IN the summer of 2019, I was seated in the wine cellar of a walled Medieval town high above the Dordogne Valley of France, not far from Sarlat-la-Canéda, making phone calls, writing reports. I have given this story in other places and it appears as though you’re about to hear it again. Rob Skiba is a name you that you might be familiar with. Though he had made a name for himself as a Nephilim researcher, more recently Rob had taken a dive into the deep end of the pool via flat earth research. The recorded interviews I conducted between he and Rick Hummer, a fellow flat earth investigator and close friend of his, was published while still occupying that very wine cellar. Read all about it. Chicago Is Not a Mirage.

Word quickly spread. Within a few short weeks, dozens of flat earth researchers began accepting my invite for a private interview, if not a series of interviews. From a 17th-century tower built by King Louis XIV, and with a stunning view of the Alps, I sat down with Robbie Davidson, founder of the Flat Earth International Conferences, conducting multiple sessions. While staying in Dumfries, Scotland, David Weiss agreed to take part in the interviews, as did Bob Knodel of Globebusters. There were others. But when I asked the interviewees to discuss the moments that shaped their lives, among the many PSYOPs, false flag attacks, and hoaxes that were discussed, only these men committed commentary to the false 9/11 narrative.

The resulting recordings ballooned into The Unexpected Cosmology, a book which became a website and was even intended as an anthology. And of course, the following discourse was originally a chapter. It was Walt Disney who stated, “Disneyland will never be completed. It will continue to grow as long as there is imagination left in the world.” Those sentiments remain applicable here as well. American Sensationalism: The 9/11 Interviews was always intended to be expanded upon with the inclusion of new researchers. So I’m sorry to say the project became stagnant during the Covid-19 psychodrama. I took a break to tackle other projects. We lost Rob Skiba. Rob offered hours of private conversation regarding his life but we never got around to the big one. 9/11. It was in the cards. Sadly, Bob Knodel died soon afterwards. Voices are being squeezed from an entire generation. Gnosis passes with them.

In the aftermath, the FE community became fractured. People began going their separate ways. Robbie Davidson, among a noted few others who were interviewed for the project, got up and left the movement altogether. It is not my intent to erase his or the contributions of others if only brief. They came, they went, their testimonies remain.

The original vision may have hit roadblocks but it is not forgotten. I expanded this paper a few years later to include testimony from author Pauly Hart, a dear friend of mine. I had wanted to continue that trend every year thereafter but you know how it goes. For the 25th anniversary of the attack I have redirected my efforts to its first large scale expansion, including Andrew Hoy and Darrin Geisinger into the mix. Perhaps others will lend their experiences to the recorder in time.

The following is their report.

Watch the Interviews