The Meme Machine, Mass Psychosis, and What I Saw Before Everyone Became an Influencer

 

Written by Julie Telgenhoff

I've been thinking a lot about mass psychosis lately, not as an abstract theory, but as something I watched unfold in real time. I watched it from inside the early social media trenches.

When I woke up in late 2011, everything changed for me almost overnight. Before that, I hated the internet. I was not someone who sat online all day digging through information. Back then, I didn't even have a Facebook page, but my kids forced me into creating one. Then one day I saw someone post something about 9/11, and I walked through the information like I had entered one doorway and came out another person on the other side.

Whether someone agrees with my conclusions or not is not the point of this story. The point is what happened to me. Something opened up inside me. People around me could not believe how much information I absorbed in such a short amount of time. It felt less like I had found a hobby and more like my spirit had taken over and given me meaningful work to do.

Soon after, I became an admin on the huge Facebook page Exposing The Truth. I became one of their top posters. But the person running the page had different ideas about where to take the media and we had conflict. At least that is how it felt to me. Eventually I was banned, and I was crushed.

My son Jordan saw how depressed I was and told me to start my own Facebook page. But, with my spirits so down, I couldn't think of a name and had no creative energy going. Then, he came up with A Sheep No More, meaning I was no longer asleep (a sheep) anymore. That name came from him, and it still means something to me.

Back then, social media was different. This was before everyone was an expert, before every person with a phone became a broadcaster and influencer, before one-minute clips trained people to mistake stimulation for knowledge.

Source: 2013 The Hegelian Dialectic by A Sheep No More

Jordan used to sit with me and watch what happened when I posted. I would put up a meme, and within minutes there would be thousands of likes and shares. It was instant. You could feel the machine light up. I bought Photoshop, started editing images, tweaking messages, making my own visuals, and that became part of how A Sheep No More grew so quickly.

I would go onto other large pages and post my memes in the comments. The likes and follows would come. It was time-consuming, but the competition was not what it is today. The alternative media world had not yet become the crowded, monetized, dopamine-driven circus it later became.

In a very real way, I helped build the early meme culture in the alternative media space. And then I watched what it did to people.

At first, memes felt powerful. They could wake someone up in one image. They punched through people's denial systems, and they could say what a long article might take two thousand words to explain.

But over time, I started seeing the downside. People began reading less. They were sharing more. Verification mattered less than the emotional impact of a post. If something looked true, felt true, or confirmed what someone already believed, they would pass it along without any investigation. The meme became the message. Then the message became a weapon.

I decided to test what I was seeing. In July of 2014, for one month, I deliberately posted more sensational conspiracy content. Illuminati this. Puppets of the Illuminati that. Symbolism, fear, New World Order information about control, all the things that triggered people’s curiosity and outrage.

And guess what happened?

The website views went up and so did the ad money I was making off Adsense and other ad platforms. And I was so disappointed about what it proved.

It proved that the audience was being trained to respond more strongly to fear, symbols, and sensationalism than to deeper research. It proved that the machine rewarded escalation. It proved that if I wanted more traffic and more money, I could get it by feeding the very thing I believed was harming people.

And after that month-long experiment, I couldn't do it anymore and made a decision to forfeit the money that could be made and go back to living my moral truth. 

That was one of the first times I truly understood that the alternative media world had its own sickness. It was not just mainstream media lying to people. It was not just politicians, corporations, or governments manipulating perception. The so-called truth movement had its own dopamine economy, its own ego traps, its own grifters, and its own mass psychosis.

I watched people I knew take political sides because it made them more money. Some even admitted it to me and didn't understand why I would not participate in it. I watched pages become brand experts. I watched truth become weaponized, and I watched awakening become performance driven.

That was deeply disturbing to me because I had come into this from a soul calling. I believed truth had to be handled with integrity and care. If I did not know something, I wanted to say I did not know. If something was only my theory, I wanted to say it was my theory. I respected real journalists and independent researchers who did the work, and I often showcased their articles with permission because I wanted to promote serious work.

But integrity is not always rewarded financially. And this is where the conversation about mass psychosis becomes personal for me.

Mass psychosis is not only something that happens when governments use fear, confusion, contradiction, and repetition to pull entire populations into a shared perception. That is all real. But there is another layer. The platforms themselves became psychological conditioning machines. They trained people to react instantly, to skim instead of study, to share before verifying, and to confuse emotional arousal with truth.

The mainstream media did it. The alternative media did it, and social media perfected it.

Then came the influencer era, where everyone had a brand, everyone had a take, everyone had a theory, everyone had a product, everyone had an audience, and too many people with no real depth, discernment or wisdom were suddenly treated like authorities.

By the time the TikTok-style short clips took over the culture, it felt like the final insult. Humanity’s attention span had been chopped into pieces, and people were now being fed reality in one-minute bursts of outrage, trauma, comedy, propaganda, and ego performance. This was an unknown insult to people's nervous systems. 

It made me nauseated because I remember when things felt different. It wasn't easier back then, but it was different from what it's become today. 

Back in 2012 and 2013, people still read and digested the content. They dug. They debated. There was still a sense that information mattered. By 2018 and 2019, I could feel the shift hardening. It seemed like everyone was becoming an expert, everyone was chasing social media reach, and everyone was posting to feed the algorithm, the audience, and themselves.

And now AI has made it even worse.

AI comments. AI videos. AI articles. AI voices. AI images. People trolling other sites to get traffic. People pretending to research when they are really just recycling content. The information field feels polluted beyond anything I could have imagined when I first started. And it's producing another problem of information overload for the central nervous system. 

That is why a random comment I noticed under one of my blog articles bothered me so much. Because I know the pattern. Someone programs AI to see a keyword like “mass psychosis” and drops a whole manifesto that barely responds to the article. It is not conversation. It is a payload for them. I recognize the tactic because that is what years inside this world taught me.

The real issue is not whether people are awake or asleep. That language is way too simple now. Some people “wake up” only to become addicted to exposing everything outside themselves while never facing what is happening inside themselves. They leave one trance and enter into another.

I know because I went through stages too.

There is grief when you first wake up. You're angry, shocked and then the obsession hits and that need to tell everyone about it takes over. A need to prove it. A need to shake people. But eventually, if the awakening is real, it has to turn inward.

Around 2015 or 2016, something became clear to me. The only way to combat what was happening in the outside world was to work on myself. To calm my own nervous system. To stop letting fear and anxiety of the future own my body. Yoga became part of that for me and so did studying the Kybalion and the Hermetic principles. The more I understood the inner laws, the less interested I became in living inside constant external chaos.

That does not mean I stopped caring about the world. It meant I understood that an unregulated person can become another carrier of the very madness they claim to oppose.

That is the part so many people are missing.

You cannot expose manipulation while being manipulated by your own fears and anxiety. You cannot fight mass psychosis while addicted to the emotional rewards of the crowd. You cannot claim to be free while needing likes, shares, followers, money, or outrage to tell you who you are.

I was an influencer before “influencer” became a career. But I did not want to influence people into worshiping me. That is why I stayed with the A Sheep No More avatar back then, and decided not to disclose who was behind it. I wanted to influence consciousness and wanted people to think, question, read, feel, and grow.

Today, my work is barely seen compared to what it once was. And honestly, I wouldn't want the responsibility of that kind of reach right now. I know what it costs, I know what it can do, and I know how easy it is for the machine to turn even sincere people into performers and payload operators.

But I also know what I saw. I saw the meme become a doorway, and then I saw it become a drug. I saw alternative media rise as a response to deception, and then I saw parts of it become another deception.

I saw people wake up, and then I saw many of them get trapped in the dopamine maze.

So when I talk about mass psychosis, I am not speaking as someone who merely watched a video or read a theory. I am speaking as someone who was there when the social media mind-war was still young, when memes could move thousands of people in minutes, when the hunger for truth began being redirected into the hunger for stimulation, dopamine, money, and fortune.

That is why I still believe discernment, integrity, and wisdom matter. And that is why I believe real awakening is not just seeing through the world’s lies, but having the courage to turn inward and do the work on the self. Some call that the dark night of the soul. I call it the part of awakening most people try to avoid.

The AI Gate and Digital ID Are Being Built in the Name of National Security

Written by Julie Telgenhoff

Most people have no idea what Fable 5 or Mythos 5 are, and that is exactly why this story can slip past them.

These are not video games. They are advanced artificial intelligence models created by Anthropic, the company behind Claude. In plain English, they are high-level AI systems designed to reason, code, research, analyze, and solve complex problems at a level far beyond ordinary search engines. These tools are becoming the new libraries, the new research assistants, the new thinking partners.

And now the U.S. government has stepped in and ordered access restricted.

The official reason is “national security.” That phrase has become the magic spell used to make ordinary people accept extraordinary control. All you have to say is “national security,” and suddenly censorship gets renamed as safety. A ban gets renamed as compliance. A locked gate gets renamed as protection.

But let’s look at the pattern.

First, they restrict access to certain AI models. Then they say only “approved” users should be allowed near the most powerful tools. Then approved access requires verification. Then verification becomes digital ID. Then digital ID becomes the key to the entire knowledge system.

At that point, the issue is no longer just who can access AI. It becomes what version of AI each person is allowed to access.

That is the real danger.

Because once access is tied to identity, the system can decide what you are permitted to ask, what answers you are permitted to receive, what information is hidden from you, and what “safe” version of reality gets handed back. People will be told they are helping protect the country. They will be told responsible citizens verify themselves. They will be told only bad actors object to it.

But a cage sold as safety is still a cage.

This is how the gate gets built. Not overnight. Not with some dramatic announcement saying knowledge is now controlled. It happens slowly, through emergencies, security claims, compliance rules, and polite corporate statements.

Today, it is Fable 5 and Mythos 5, two AI systems most people have never heard of.

Tomorrow, it may be an AI system everyone does know. Or there may be a manufactured crisis, a cyberattack, a foreign-threat story, or some dramatic “proof” that the public cannot be trusted with unrestricted access to powerful digital knowledge systems.

That is where this appears to be heading.

The restriction will not be sold as censorship. It will be sold as safety. It will not be called control. It will be called secure access. And the key to that access will be your digital footprint.

Your identity, location, history, behavior, questions, opinions, and online patterns, all packaged together as your “risk level.” Your approved place inside the system.

In other words, the future of knowledge may not be based on what exists, what can be asked, or what is true.

It may be based on whether your digital ID says you are allowed to ask at all.

A social credit system for thought, dressed up with a pretty bow and sold as national security.

Also See:  

Are Western Governments Quietly Converging Toward China’s Surveillance Model?

How the Boeing 737 MAX Scandal Exposed the Stock Market Illusion

Written by Julie Telgenhoff

As I was watching Downfall: The Case Against Boeing, a 2022 Netflix documentary directed by Rory Kennedy about the two Boeing 737 MAX crashes and the 346 people killed, I had one of those moments where the so-called tin foil hat didn’t feel like satire anymore. So I pictured myself walking straight to the pantry, pulling out the aluminum foil, and placing it on my head like a crown for people who have massive pattern recognition skills. 

The documentary lays out the human horror of the Boeing 737 MAX crashes, the deaths, the families left waiting for justice, and the years of legal maneuvering that followed. But the deeper question sitting under the wreckage is how a company connected to that much death and deception stayed alive at all. 

That is where the story starts connecting itself. Boeing was not just Boeing. It was a massive holding inside a larger financial machine, supported by institutional ownership from giants like Vanguard and BlackRock, whose money touches Boeing, its competitors, its suppliers, and the market indexes that ordinary people are told represent “the economy.” So when the payouts to families dragged on, when accountability softened into settlements, and when Boeing survived instead of being destroyed by the consequences of its own conduct, it became impossible not to see the larger structure. 

This one true documentary does not just expose Boeing. It exposes the stock market itself as a managed illusion, where companies do not rise and fall based on morality, safety, or even failure, but on whether the largest financial institutions need them to remain standing.

The Boeing 737 MAX disaster should have been one of those rare moments when the mask fell off corporate America for good.

Two crashes. Three hundred forty-six dead. Families shattered across Indonesia, Ethiopia, Canada, the United States, and beyond. A plane that had been sold as safe, efficient, and modern became a flying indictment of what happens when profit, speed, executive pressure, and regulatory capture are allowed to sit in the cockpit before human beings do.

In any honest market, Boeing should have been brought to its knees.

A company tied to that level of failure should have faced the full consequence of public distrust, capital flight, legal pressure, and competitive collapse. That is supposedly how capitalism is supposed to work. The market punishes failure, the investors flee danger, and the competitors benefit. The company either reforms completely or dies.

But Boeing did not die.

That is the real story.

Boeing survived because modern markets are not the clean, competitive arenas we were taught to imagine. They are managed ecosystems, held together by institutional money so large that it no longer behaves like ordinary investing. The biggest players are not mom-and-pop shareholders deciding whether a company deserves trust. They are giant asset managers like Vanguard and BlackRock, sitting on enormous pools of retirement money, index money, pension money, and passive investment flows.

These institutions do not simply own Boeing. They own pieces of nearly everything around Boeing. Institutional asset managers hold the overwhelming majority of Boeing's stock, controlling roughly 73% to 82% of all outstanding shares. They own Boeing, Boeing’s suppliers, Boeing’s competitors, airlines, defense contractors, industrial indexes, bond funds, and the broader market structure that would be shaken if a company like Boeing truly collapsed. This is the hidden architecture underneath the ticker symbols.

The phrase for part of this is horizontal shareholding. It means the same institutional investors can hold major stakes in competing companies inside the same industry. In the old story of capitalism, Boeing and Airbus are rivals. One fails, the other wins. One loses trust, the other captures the market. But when the same financial giants are invested across the entire sector, the incentive changes. They do not need one company to crush another. They need the whole sector to remain stable.

That distinction matters.

When the 737 MAX was grounded worldwide after the crashes, Boeing’s commercial aircraft business was damaged badly. The company faced lawsuits, production disruption, criminal scrutiny, public outrage, compensation demands, and the long shadow of a broken safety culture. Yet the capital structure beneath Boeing did not behave like a moral judgment. It behaved like plumbing. Money kept moving through the pipes.

Passive index funds helped create that floor. When Boeing remains inside major indexes, index-linked money continues to touch it. Millions of people buying retirement funds are not consciously choosing Boeing. They are buying “the market.” But “the market” includes Boeing. That means ordinary workers, through 401(k)s and retirement accounts, can become automatic supporters of companies they would never personally defend.

That is the genius and horror of the system.

Boeing does not need every investor to believe in it. It only needs to remain embedded inside structures that force or strongly encourage money to keep flowing. Once a company is big enough, connected enough, and systemically important enough, its survival is no longer just about its own performance. It becomes about the risk of letting it fail.

By late 2024, Boeing’s finances were under severe pressure. The company needed cash, faced production problems, carried debt concerns, and had to protect its credit rating. Then came the massive equity raise. Boeing brought in more than $24 billion through common stock and depositary shares. In ordinary language, the company sold a huge amount of new financial paper to refill the tank.

That moment tells the story better than any slogan could.

A company connected to the deaths of 346 people, years of scandal, government investigation, manufacturing failures, and public distrust was still able to go to the market and raise a mountain of cash. It raised the money because the financial system understood Boeing as something too large, too embedded, and too strategically important to be allowed to break apart.

This is where the stock market stops looking like a market and starts looking like a protection racket for the already-powerful.

The average person is told the market is real because prices move. Red one day, green the next. CNBC flashes numbers. Analysts speak in serious voices. Retirement accounts rise and fall. But movement is not proof of reality. A casino has movement too. A rigged game still has winners and losers at the table. The question is not whether prices move. The question is whether those prices reflect truth.

Did Boeing’s stock reflect the true human cost of the 737 MAX? Did it reflect the pain of the families? Did it reflect the depth of the safety failure? Did it reflect what would happen to a small company responsible for even a fraction of that damage?

Of course not.

A small company that killed people through negligence would be annihilated. Its insurance would collapse. Its lenders would run. Its brand would become poison. Its executives would not be gently shuffled through hearings and settlements while the company remained a pillar of American industry. But Boeing is not small. Boeing is woven into commercial aviation, defense contracting, manufacturing jobs, export policy, airline fleets, supplier networks, index funds, and institutional portfolios.

And that "web" is what saved it.

The legal process also stretched across years, which itself became a form of financial mercy. Time is a gift in corporate crisis. Time allows settlements to be staggered, penalties to be absorbed, investors to adjust, public rage to cool, and headlines to move on. Families still live with the permanent absence of the people they lost, but corporations live inside calendars, filings, and quarterly reports. Delay is not neutral. Delay is liquidity.

The Boeing case shows that punishment in America is scaled by power. The more systemically important the corporation, the more careful the system becomes with it. The language changes. Collapse becomes “contagion.” Accountability becomes “resolution.” Criminal exposure becomes “agreement.” Bailout becomes “capital raise.” Survival becomes “market confidence.”

And standing behind that confidence are the giant institutional owners who benefit when the system remains intact.

This does not require imagining a smoky back room where every move is planned by hand. The machinery is more elegant than that. It is automatic, legal, normalized, and buried in the language of diversification. The same institutions can say they are merely managing funds, tracking indexes, and serving clients. Technically, that may be true. But the outcome is still a market where the largest corporations are cushioned by ownership structures no ordinary business could ever access.

That is why Boeing matters as more than an aviation scandal.

It is a window into the illusion of free-market discipline. We are told the stock market rewards excellence and punishes failure. Boeing proves something darker. The market protects what the market owns broadly enough. Once a corporation becomes embedded in the portfolios of the giants, its survival is no longer decided by ordinary standards of trust, safety, or merit. It becomes part of the architecture.

The 737 MAX killed 346 people. Boeing paid, delayed, negotiated, raised capital, and continued on with no public backlash.

That is not a free market delivering justice. That is managed stability protecting itself.

And this is how you know the stock market is not real. The meaning behind the numbers is fake. The prices do not tell the truth about harm. They do not measure morality. They do not measure accountability. They measure how much institutional power is willing to preserve the structure underneath.

Boeing stayed alive because Boeing was not just a company anymore. It had become another “too big to fail” pillar inside the machine called the stock market, artificially kept alive, yet people continue to fund the illusion.

It then occurred to me that a lot of people would watch this documentary and think, “Boeing is corrupt.”

Fewer would think, “How did Boeing survive financially after killing people?”

And even fewer would connect that to institutional ownership, passive index money, BlackRock/Vanguard, and the illusion of market manipulation.

But this is how my mind works as a proud tin foil hat wearer, I don’t just watch the show, I follow the money, then follow the structure under the money. I'm not only asking “who did this?” I'm asking, “what kind of system makes sure a huge, corrupt corporation survives it?”

White House Shooting EXPOSED by Peggy Hall!! (Frame-by-Frame Breakdown)

Source: PBS NEWS

Did you hear about the latest shooting incident near the White House that occurred on May 23, 2026, when a gunman reportedly opened fire at a Secret Service checkpoint along Pennsylvania Avenue before being shot dead by officers?

One of the reasons independent commentators continue to attract large audiences is their willingness to examine official narratives frame by frame, looking for inconsistencies that others either miss or dismiss. In her latest video, Peggy Hall takes that approach to the White House shooting story, dissecting details that deserve far more scrutiny than they have received.

Rather than simply repeating headlines, she walks through the footage, timelines, and reported events, highlighting what she sees as contradictions, oddities, and unanswered questions. At times the analysis becomes almost humorous, as she points out details that strain credibility and raise larger questions about how modern news events are reported and consumed.

For those who value critical thinking and independent analysis, Hall's breakdown offers an opportunity to look beyond the surface narrative and challenge the scripted ones plastered all over the mainstream media.