The Truth about The Illuminati. Three little pigs and their buildings. *Shocker*. Not Wikipedia Prince William and Kate

Introduction. The Illuminati.

Introduction to "The Three Little Pigs". The Founders of The Illuminati.

The Founders of The Illuminati have a lucky escape.

The founding of The Illuminati.

One of the most pervasive of the conspiracy theories that figure largely in posts on the internet today is the notion that the world is ruled by a secret group of shape shifting reptilians called The Illuminati.Books have been written about them, and many people, such as the author and former television presenter David Icke, have made fortunes for themselves, from their supposed revelations about this group.

I am not writing in order to tell you that The Illuminati do not exist. On the contrary they are very much alive, and their influence is felt throughout the world. It is not true, however that they number among their members any prominent figures in human society. Elizabeth II is not one. Nor are any members of the Bush Family. If you can get close enough to President Obama to attempt to peel of his skin, you will not reveal any scales. The same applies to The Pope, the President of India, or any other people who have been named by the conspiracy theorists as members of The Illuminati. Nevertheless, I am telling the truth when I say that The Illuminati exist. They are in plain view of us all the time. The notion that prominent figures in society and politics are members is just a blind that has been manufactured by the real rulers of the world in order to cloak their nefarious activities.

As the president of the Ancient Society of Secret Historians I am in possession of the truth. As part of the continuing program of releasing into the public domain much of the hidden knowledge that has been accumulated by the society over the centuries, I am now going to reveal for the first time who The Illuminati really are, and the true story of how they were founded.

The story of The Three Little Pigs is one that is well known to almost everyone. The tale of how they defeated The Big Bad Wolf is told to children throughout the world. Films have been made about them, and their story is one that will never die.

Of course, most of you will say that it is a rather attractive fairy tale, that the events related could not really have ever happened. The average person in the twenty first century believes that it is impossible for pigs to build houses, or to light fires. But I am telling you that that was not always the case. It is a fact that the average pig is more than capable of doing all of these things, and a whole lot more as well. They just don’t choose to display their knowledge any more. I can tell you the reason for that.

The story as it has come down to us is essentially a true one. It is just the outcome that has been kept hidden.

Anyway for those of you who are unfamiliar with the tale, I will retell it now.

Many centuries ago, on an Island in the Atlantic Ocean, there lived three little pigs. The island is known to us as Atlantis, and it is no longer there. But as its ending has got nothing to do with this story I do not intend to go into it here. The porcine fraternity in those old days were a lot more advanced than they appear to be nowadays, and when they were not writing poetry or painting great works of art they were engaged in inventing cutting edge technology such as spaceships that could orbit Jupiter and computers that could out compute anything that we could devise today.

But to get back to our story. The Three Little Pigs had varying talents. The first one was a very accomplished violinist and composer. A fragment of one of his compositions was found in excavations on The Canary Islands. It was compared in quality to the violin concerto of Johannes Brahms; in fact some suspect that that composer may have copied the slow movement theme from a copy of the Little Pig fragment on display in Vienna.

Pig no two was a great poet. No examples of his work have come down to us, so you will just have to take my word for it.

The third pig was of a more practical bent. He studied architecture at the Atlantis University. One of his architectural blueprints was traded to some Egyptian merchants who were visiting the island at the time. The building that we now know as The Great Pyramid was the result.

Anyway these great porcine geniuses decided to build three new houses for themselves.

The musician decided to build one of straw. He believed that the absorption qualities would give a more warm quality to his sound when he played the violin to the local musical cognoscenti in his new music room, which was the principal room in the residence.

The poet decided to build himself a house of sticks. He was a bit of a "New Age" freak. He wanted to build his house of organic materials in order to give himself more of a union with nature. He felt it would accentuate his poetic sensibilities.

The architect decided to build a house of bricks. He wanted something that would outlast him, and be a beacon of taste to the generations that would come after.

Not long after the three houses were completed a stranger came to Atlantis. This was a wolf, and a most ferocious one at that. He had been receiving treatment at a clinic for pork addiction, but had absconded half way through his course. He was, as a consequence, the absolute last individual that was needed on the island at the time.

On his first morning on the island he was woken from his sleep on the beach by the unmistakable sound of some beautiful violin music, suspiciously similar to the opening bars of the second movement of The Brahms Concerto. Music did not soothe that savage breast however. When he asked some people near what the infernal racket was he was told that it was the famous Pig virtuoso practising for his forthcoming concert. The over friendly people on the beach further volunteered the information that the musical genius had two other equally brilliant porcine brothers living in the same street. This really got the wolf very excited. The addiction, that he had never properly overcome, totally took him over. He positively slavered at the mouth as he turned his steps towards the house from whence the music was emanating.

When he arrived outside the straw house he whispered through a crack in the wall, "Little Pig, Little Pig won’t you come out". The music stopped, but no pig emerged. So, as you all probably know already, the wolf huffed and he puffed until the house fell down. The pig got consumed, violin and all.

This only fuelled the addiction, so the lupine felon set off to the house of sticks. Here the story was slightly different from the version that has come down. There was no huffing or puffing. The poet was so convinced of the oneness of all creation that he actually opened the door to the wolf immediately. Needless to say he was joining his brother in the wolf’s stomach almost before he realised what was happening. The last thing that could be seen of him was the slightly puzzled look on his face just before he slipped down the gullet.

The architect observed this happening from the attic window of his residence, and he resolved not to go the same way as his brothers. When the wolf got to his house no amount of Huffing or Puffing would make any impression on the stout brick walls. But there was a ladder near that had been left by the builders, and there was a large chimney in the centre of the roof. The wolf put the ladder against the side of the house and clambered up to the chimney. The canny pig didn’t put a large pot of water on the fire, like you have been told. This would have taken too long. But he did have a machine gun in the house, as the law allowed. So when the pork junkie emerged from the fireplace he was met with a hail of bullets, carefully aimed only at the head. The wolf died instantly.

When the pathologist took possession of the body in order to do an autopsy, faint sounds reminiscent of the second movement of the Brahms violin concerto could be heard coming from the wolf's interior. The cadaver was slit open and the two savants emerged, quite well but rather slimy.

That should have been the end of the story. But there was a postscript.

The three pigs resolved that nothing like this must ever be allowed to happen again. At a meeting convened a week later they founded a brotherhood dedicated to furthering the rule of pigs throughout all further ages. All pigs henceforth were enjoined to hide their intelligence, and to only exert their superior talents from behind the scenes. The new organisation was called The Illuminati. This was in memory of the great celebratory bonfire that was lit in Atlantis the night the wolf was killed.

So next time you see a pig be respectful, or if you are tempted to eat a bacon sandwich, think first. You may not realise who you might be offending.

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