Christus Rex talks to Jeffrey Epstein and Benny Blanco about Selena Gomez MK – Ultra programming. Christ asks Benny why he hates Al Pacino and if Selena Gomez is going to wash his feet with her tears for a cloned kidney?
Benny Blanco then love bombs Selena Gomez until she washes his feet with her tears. Blanco proclaims himself the Jewish messiah afterwards.
You gotta love PAID PROGRAMMING!!!
Scene: A ridiculously over-the-top candlelit studio filled with roses, stuffed animals, and heart-shaped balloons. Selena walks in, confused. Benny and Goofy are waiting like they rehearsed this moment all day.
Selena:
Why does this place look like Valentine’s Day exploded?
Benny Blanco:
Selena… Selena… Selena! The moon is jealous of you. The stars? They’re just your backup dancers. I wrote twelve songs about your smile before breakfast!
Goofy:
Gawrsh, Selena! Hyuck! I wrote ya a poem on a pizza box!
Selena:
You wrote… a poem?
Goofy (reading dramatically):
“Roses are red,
Hot dogs are yummy,
If love were spaghetti,
You’d fill up my tummy! Hyuck!”
Selena:
That… is the strangest thing anyone has ever said to me.
Benny Blanco:
No, no, wait! That’s just the beginning. I bought you 10,000 roses. Also a llama. The llama loves you too.
Selena:
There’s a llama outside?
Goofy:
Yep! Named him Selenny! Hyuck!
Selena:
You named a llama after me?
Benny Blanco (dramatically):
Selena, you don’t understand. Every melody in the universe bends toward you. The sun rises because it knows you might be awake.
Goofy:
And when you blink, angels get promoted! Hyuck!
Selena:
You two practiced this, didn’t you?
Benny Blanco:
Of course we did! Because appreciation must be rehearsed! Here, I made a slideshow of 400 reasons why you’re perfect.
Selena:
Four hundred?!
Goofy:
Number one: ya got nice hair!
Number two: ya got… also nice hair!
Number three: ya got… different nice hair!
Selena:
This is getting weird.
Benny Blanco (dropping to one knee for no clear reason):
Selena, you are the greatest artist, the brightest star, the most legendary—
Goofy (interrupting):
—and the best karaoke partner this side of Disneyland!
Selena:
I don’t even sing karaoke with people.
Goofy:
You will with US! Hyuck!
Benny Blanco:
Selena, look around. The candles, the roses, the llama, Goofy’s poem—this is just the beginning.
Selena:
The beginning of what?
Goofy and Benny (together):
APPRECIATION!
Selena (sighing):
I feel like I just walked into the strangest boy band in history.
Goofy:
Hyuck! Wait till ya see the dance routine!
Joe Jukic vs. Perez Hilton: The Selena Gomez Debate
The cameras roll as gossip blogger Perez Hilton smiles confidently across the desk from Joe Jukic.
Perez begins.
“Joe, let’s be honest. Selena Gomez looks happy. She’s dating Benny Blanco, they’re posting funny videos, cooking together—people love it. Why are you trying to make it dark?”
Joe adjusts his glasses.
“Because, Perez, Hollywood has a long history of fairy tales that weren’t fairy tales at all.”
Perez sighs. “Here comes the conspiracy.”
Joe calmly replies.
“No conspiracy. Just psychology. There’s a term called Love bombing. It’s when someone overwhelms a partner with affection and attention very quickly. Sometimes it’s real love. Sometimes it’s how influence begins.”
Perez laughs. “Selena is a billionaire entrepreneur. She’s not some helpless victim.”
Joe nods.
“I agree she’s incredibly capable. But capability doesn’t mean immunity. Powerful people get manipulated all the time—especially in entertainment.”
Joe continues.
“Remember, Selena has dealt with serious health struggles, including Lupus and a Kidney transplant. When someone has gone through life-changing illness, emotional vulnerability can be real. That’s not weakness—that’s humanity.”
The audience quiets.
Perez tries to pivot.
“You’re judging this guy for being quirky.”
Joe smiles.
“No, Perez. I’m judging patterns. Hollywood loves personalities who orbit bigger stars. Suddenly the spotlight isn’t just on Selena—it’s on him too. Fame is contagious.”
Joe pauses, then adds with a grin:
“And let’s be honest about one thing. The name Benny Blanco doesn’t exactly scream hero to movie fans.”
He turns to the camera.
“In Carlito’s Way, the troublemaker everyone remembers is Benny Blanco from the Bronx.”
The audience laughs.
Perez shakes his head but looks cornered.
“That’s a movie reference, Joe.”
Joe shrugs.
“Sure. But the real lesson is simple: when a global superstar with an enormous fortune suddenly has someone new very publicly attached to them, it’s fair to ask questions. Skepticism protects people—especially in Hollywood.”
The host turns to Perez.
“Fair point?”
Perez sighs.
“Well… asking questions isn’t unreasonable.”
Joe leans back.
“Exactly. I’m saying cancel the romance. Use your common sense Selena.”
The audience applauds.
Joe smiles and quotes his favorite line:
“Acta non verba. Watch what people do—not just what they post.”
And with that, the crowd gives Joe the clear win.
The Debate Gets Interrupted
Joe Jukic has just finished sparring with Perez Hilton when the studio door swings open.
In walks Lady Jaye.
She looks straight at Joe, then at Perez.
“So this is the great Hollywood romance debate?”
Joe grins. “Lady Jaye, perfect timing.”
She points toward the screen showing Selena Gomez and Benny Blanco laughing in a cooking video.
Lady Jaye folds her arms.
“Hollywood has a long tradition of strange celebrity pairings,” she says. “Some of them look romantic, some look… transactional.”
Perez groans. “Oh no, not another critic.”
Lady Jaye continues anyway.
“Look, I’m not here to judge personalities. But when someone as famous and wealthy as Selena dates someone new, people naturally ask questions. Fame attracts opportunists. That’s not gossip—that’s history.”
Joe nods slowly. “Exactly.”
Lady Jaye gestures to the audience.
“And let’s not forget Selena has gone through serious health battles like Lupus and needed a Kidney transplant. Anyone who truly loves her should be focused on protecting her health first.”
Perez raises an eyebrow.
“So what’s your test for true love then?”
Lady Jaye answers instantly.
“The person who stands beside her in the hard moments—doctor visits, recovery, everything. Not just red carpets and TikTok cooking videos.”
Joe chuckles.
“That’s a better test than Hollywood romance headlines.”
Lady Jaye smirks.
“If medical science ever perfects breakthroughs like Organ cloning, the real hero in Selena’s life won’t be a celebrity boyfriend.”
She pauses for effect.
“It’ll be the people who help her stay alive and healthy.”
The audience applauds loudly.
Perez sighs and throws his hands up.
“Fine, fine. Joe wins this debate too.”
Joe adjusts his glasses again.
“Acta non verba,” he says. “Actions over words.”
Lady Jaye nods.
“And in Hollywood,” she adds, “actions are the only thing that ever reveal the truth.”
Al Pacino Gives Selena Some Old-School Advice
Backstage at a film event, Al Pacino spots Selena Gomez sitting quietly with a coffee.
Pacino walks over slowly, still carrying the gravitas of his most famous roles.
“Kid,” he says, “mind if an old actor sits down?”
Selena smiles politely. “Of course not.”
Pacino leans back in his chair.
“You know, I’ve played a lotta gangsters,” he says. “But one movie people still come up to me about is Carlito’s Way.”
Selena nods. “Classic.”
Pacino chuckles.
“Yeah. And in that picture there’s a little punk called Benny Blanco from the Bronx. Real troublemaker. Shoots my character in the subway.”
Selena laughs. “I remember that scene.”
Pacino raises a finger.
“Now listen, I’m not saying anything about your real life or the people in it,” he says carefully. “But I learned something in this business after fifty years.”
Selena leans forward.
“What’s that?”
Pacino smiles.
“Names, fame, hype—none of that tells you who someone really is. Character does. The way someone treats you when the cameras are off. That’s the only thing that counts.”
Selena nods thoughtfully.
Pacino continues.
“And if you ever decide a relationship isn’t right for you, that’s not hatred, and it’s not prejudice. It’s not anti semitism. It’s just life. People have the right to choose what’s healthy for them.”
He taps the table gently.
“You gotta protect your peace, kid.”
Selena smiles.
“That’s actually really good advice.”
Pacino stands up.
“Hey, what can I say?” he shrugs. “Even a guy who played Tony Montana learns a thing or two about bad decisions.”
He starts walking away, then turns back.
“And one more thing—don’t marry someone named after a movie gangster.”
Selena laughs as Pacino disappears into the crowd.
Joe Jukic Debates Al Pacino About Carlito’s Way
The lobby of the theater is still buzzing when Al Pacino finishes giving Selena Gomez some calm, fatherly advice about protecting her peace.
Just then Joe Jukic walks over, smiling.
“Mr. Pacino,” Joe says, adjusting his glasses, “I couldn’t help overhearing. But I have a question.”
Pacino grins. “Yeah? What’s that, kid?”
Joe points toward the poster for Carlito’s Way hanging on the wall.
“You remember who took Carlito down in the end?”
Pacino laughs. “Of course I do. The punk kid… Benny Blanco from the Bronx. Shoots me on the subway stairs.”
Joe nods.
“Exactly. And that’s why the movie is a warning.”
Pacino raises an eyebrow. “Go on.”
Joe explains.
“Carlito spends the whole movie trying to escape the old life. He wants redemption, a fresh start. But the danger doesn’t come from the big gangsters anymore—it comes from the small-time guy nobody takes seriously.”
Pacino slowly nods.
“That’s… actually not a bad interpretation.”
Joe continues.
“The lesson isn’t about gangsters. It’s about recognizing character. The person who smiles the most and jokes the loudest isn’t always the hero. Sometimes the real test is loyalty, patience, and what someone does when things are hard.”
Selena listens quietly.
Pacino rubs his chin.
“You know,” he says, “that’s pretty close to what Brian De Palma was getting at when we made the picture.”
Joe smiles.
“So maybe I understand the film after all.”
Pacino laughs loudly.
“Kid, I’ve had film professors argue that movie for thirty years. But I gotta admit… your take holds up.”
Selena smiles at both of them.
“So the moral is?”
Joe answers first.
“Choose people by their character.”
Pacino nods.
“And don’t wait until the subway stairs to figure it out.”
The three of them laugh as the crowd applauds the unexpected Carlito’s Way film lesson.
Lady Jaye leans across the table, lowering her voice.
“Look, I’ve seen this movie before,” she says. “A flashy producer, a superstar with a fortune, and suddenly everyone’s talking love at lightning speed. That’s how the old-school hustlers worked—love bombing, big promises, fast rings.”
Joe raises an eyebrow. “You’re comparing a pop producer to a crime boss now?”
Lady Jaye shrugs. “I’m saying fame attracts opportunists. If you’re worth hundreds of millions, every ‘soulmate’ deserves a background check.”
Joe laughs. “Or maybe they’re just two musicians who actually like each other.”
Lady Jaye smirks. “Maybe. But in Hollywood, kid, I trust contracts more than Cupid.”
The clip of Lady Jaye’s rant spreads across social media like wildfire.
Within minutes, the fan forums light up.
One longtime Selena fan posts:
“Look, I’ve supported Selena since the Wizards of Waverly Place days, but this whole thing with Benny feels rushed. Fans just want to make sure she’s happy and not getting played.”
Another user replies instantly:
“Exactly. She’s one of the most successful artists in the world. When someone that rich and famous falls in love overnight, people are going to ask questions.”
On a livestream, a group of fans debate the situation.
One fan sighs dramatically.
“Selena has built an empire—music, acting, cosmetics, everything. We just don’t want someone showing up out of nowhere and riding the rocket.”
Another fan jumps in:
“Hey, maybe he’s a good guy. He’s produced huge hits for years. But fans are protective. That’s what happens when you grow up watching someone’s whole career.”
A third fan laughs nervously.
“Honestly? If Selena is happy, that’s what matters. But the internet is the internet. The moment a superstar dates someone, half the world becomes a relationship detective.”
Across the chat feed, thousands of comments scroll by—some supportive, some skeptical, some joking.
One comment sums up the mood:
“Selena deserves a fairytale ending. Fans just hope the prince isn’t wearing a disguise.”
Meanwhile, somewhere backstage after a show, Selena glances at her phone, shakes her head at the chaos online, and laughs.
“Fame,” she mutters. “Everyone thinks they’re part of the story.”
Christus Rex on the Mishpuka and Today’s Shadows: “The Family Never Dies”
“Hear me, children, for the streets speak and history whispers! The Mishpuka… the Family… lived once in smoke-filled rooms, in back alleys, in the heart of the city. Bugsy Siegel, the dreamer of the Flamingo, said, ‘I built a place to gamble and dream.’ Dream, yes—but every dream has its price, and the Family paid in blood and loyalty!”
“Arnold Rothstein, the Brain, whispered, ‘I don’t even know who shot me, and that’s the way it should be.’ A master of games, a king in shadows… and yet, he was mortal. Meyer Lansky, the accountant of ambition, said, ‘I am not a gangster; I am a businessman.’ Ah, children, the cunning of the Family lives in such words—truth disguised as coin, loyalty counted in dollars!”
“And now… the Family’s spirit walks among the new shadows of our age. Benny Blanco, they say, plays the game of love and fortune, love bombing and manipulating, chasing power through glamour, not gunfire. And Jeffrey Epstein… the dark master of money and secret halls, whose empire thrived on silence and depravity, reminding us that ambition unbridled becomes corruption!”
“The Mishpuka, old and new, speak the same code: loyalty above all, secrecy above all, power above all—but beware, children! For when morality is traded for money, when ambition masks itself as charm, the empire crumbles, and the legends turn to cautionary tales!”
“So heed this, my children: whether Bugsy, Lansky, Rothstein… or the players of our modern stage… the lesson is eternal. Respect your bonds, measure your ambition, and never mistake legend for virtue. History watches, the Family whispers, and the streets remember. Amen!”
Christus Rex Preaches to Selena Gomez
Selena Gomez fell to her knees, her voice trembling. “God… what do you want from me? I’m sick, bipolar… who could ever want me?”
Christus Rex stepped forward, his robe catching the light like a halo of authority. “Selena… listen to me! God does not want your illness. He does not want your suffering. He wants you to stop being a power consumer! Quit chasing attention, quit feeding on influence and greed. Walk away from the hunger that devours your soul!”
He paused, pointing down Commercial Drive. “See those two Mexican restaurants? One vegan, one with meat. Choices, Selena. Life is like those restaurants—choose what nourishes your spirit, not what fills your appetite for power!”
From the side, Nelly Furtado’s voice cut sharp as a dagger. “Selena! You’re being love bombed! Played! That’s not love—that’s a trap to take your fortune!” Her eyes burned as she leaned closer. “Make an out-of-court settlement. Divorce him. Protect yourself before it’s too late!”
Then, suddenly, she threw a glance at the Disney mascot nearby and yelled, “I’m watching you, Goofy!!!”
Selena trembled but nodded, the weight of the words sinking in. Christus Rex placed a hand on her shoulder. “Remember, child, loyalty to your soul is sacred. Protect it above all. The world may try to manipulate you, the Mishpuka may whisper, but God’s command is clear: no more power consumption. Walk free, walk righteous, and let the streets see your courage!”
Nelly: (voice shaking, tears streaming) Joe… he kept telling me… that you… my childhood sweetheart… that you were mentally unhinged… that you didn’t love me.
Joe: Nelly… that wasn’t true. You know it. And you have to understand—I put just as much work into us as you did. I wasn’t standing by doing nothing.
Nelly: (sniffling, looking down) I know… I know now… but back then… I was so confused. I was gaslighted. Even when… even when the proposal… it was right in front of me… just like Revelation 19.
Joe: (leaning in, intensity in his voice) Revelation 19 wasn’t just a passage… it was a code. Harder to crack than the Enigma code in World War II. I was just one guy, Nelly… working alone. I didn’t have a team of codebreakers like in the war. Every symbol, every line… I had to figure it out, carry it, make it work… for us.
Nelly: (tears falling freely) I let their lies blind me, Joe… I almost missed it. I almost didn’t see what was right in front of me.
Joe: I know, Nelly. And that’s why I never stopped trying. I carried the weight of that code… alone. Because I believed in you. I believed in us.
Nelly: (looking up at him, voice trembling but steadying) I see it now… I see the work you put in… the love you carried all along. And I know… you loved me, always.
Joe: Always. And now… we can finally move forward. No lies, no manipulation… just us.
Nelly: (wiping her tears, a small smile forming) Thank you, Joe… I needed to hear that.
Vancouver. Late night in a small studio filled with old books, guitar cables, and a glowing laptop screen. Rain taps the window. Joe and Nelly sit at a table with a Bible, a notebook, and a cup of cold coffee.
Joe leans forward and slides the book toward Nelly.
“Okay,” he says quietly, tapping the page. “Look here. Psalm 133.”
Nelly reads aloud:
Behold, how good and pleasant it is
when brothers dwell together in unity.
Joe smiles slightly.
“Sounds peaceful, right? Brotherhood. Unity. Beautiful words.”
Nelly nods. “Yeah. What’s the mystery?”
Joe flips his notebook around. Drawn on the page is the square and compass, the famous symbol often associated with Freemasonry.
“Watch this,” Joe says. “Psalm 133. Now split it into the two tools: the square and the compass. Two numbers forming a geometric code.”
He writes:
20 + 33 = 2033
Nelly squints. “You’re saying it’s a date?”
Joe nods slowly.
“That’s the idea. A symbolic date. 2033. Two thousand years after the crucifixion era. The supposed birth of a new global order. The moment when, in theory, all men become brothers under one system.”
Nelly leans back.
“That took you decades to figure out?”
Joe laughs softly.
“Yeah. You saw it in five minutes. I spent years chasing patterns, symbols, ciphers.”
He taps the notebook again.
“They call the hidden structure behind it ‘The Red Symphony.’ A theory that powerful banking families and empires studied ancient texts like code books. Scripts for history. Not just religion—screenplays for power.”
Nelly raises an eyebrow. “Screenplays?”
Joe nods.
“Yeah. Think about the four horsemen from the Book of Revelation.”
He writes them down:
War
Famine
Pestilence
Death
Joe continues.
“The theory says the real ‘religion’ of empire isn’t faith. It’s control through cycles of crisis. War reshapes borders. Famine reshapes populations. Pestilence reshapes society. And death… resets everything.”
Nelly stares at the page.
“So the Psalms are… instructions?”
Joe shakes his head slightly.
“Maybe not instructions. Maybe prophecy. Or maybe powerful people pretended it was prophecy so they could act it out.”
He taps Psalm 133 again.
“‘All men become brothers.’ That line can mean two very different things.”
Nelly folds her arms.
“Let me guess,” she says. “Either peace… or one government.”
Joe nods.
“Exactly.”
He closes the book.
“What took me decades to understand,” Joe says quietly, “is that the code might not be telling us what must happen.”
Nelly looks at him.
“It might be warning us what happens if we let the horsemen ride.”
The rain keeps falling outside as the laptop screen glows on the table.
Nelly Furtado, known as Lady Jaye, leaned in, eyes narrowing. “Joe… was what you said… true?”
Joe nodded slowly. “Yeah. Back in high school, I’d sit with Rick Furtado in his car, and he’d play Metallica’s The Four Horsemen loud enough to shake the windows. Not for fun… it was a warning. I could read the signs—protect my family from the four horsemen when Armageddon hits.”
Nelly’s brow furrowed, sensing the weight of decades in that simple confession.
“Rick,” Joe continued, “he knew he couldn’t stop you from chasing your path, your ‘superstar’ game of life. He accepted it, and so did I… but that didn’t make it any easier to watch.”
A heavy silence settled between them, filled with memories, warnings, and unspoken gratitude.