A Papal Bull From The Emporium Of Spectacles

 

It seems another edict came tumbling down the pyramid of the Emporium of Spectacles located in the access portal of the District of Columbia. Chris Floyd at the Empire Burlesque has already grappled with the social implications of this ruling by the Great Legal Shoguns of the Emporium of Spectacles so I won’t get into the details of this latest magnum opus that gives the scepter of God to the Uniformity League as well as the supernatural ability to declare whoever they wish “enemy combatants” while simultaneously converting them into “non-persons”; that they can reduce anyone’s status as a “legal entity.”

There was a time when I would respond as equally vociferously. But I don’t necessarily have any qualms about being declared a non-person considering what the “legal” definition of person is and what the word “person” derives from: the word persona meaning mask or character in a drama, possibly derived from the Etruscan phersu. The legal term is a corporation having the rights of a person or a “human being.” There are some more antiquated legal texts that define human being as a monster, or subspecies. I encourage anyone who is curious enough to look into the etymology and semantics of such things as I am no expert. The point is not that things could not be as simple as they are presented from the language constructors but everything coming from the Emporium of Spectacles should be held in speculation. Trust but verify.

If this quote is true, the voice behind Woodrow Wilson, who happened to be Edward Mandel House, had some interesting things to say about altering a person’s identity through the registration of their biological property:

“[Very] soon, every American will be required to register their biological property in a National system designed to keep track of the people and that will operate under the ancient system of pledging.  By such methodology, we can compel people to submit to our agenda, which will affect our security as a chargeback for our fiat paper currency.  Every American will be forced to register or suffer not being able to work and earn a living.  They will be our chattel, and we will hold the security interest over them forever, by operation of the law merchant under the scheme of secured transactions.  Americans, by unknowingly or unwittingly delivering the bills of lading to us will be rendered bankrupt and insolvent, forever to remain economic slaves through taxation, secured by their pledges.” 

“They will be stripped of their rights and given a commercial value designed to make us a profit and they will be non the wiser, for not one man in a million could ever figure our plans and, if by accident one or two would figure it out, we have in our arsenal plausible deniability.  After all, this is the only logical way to fund government, by floating liens and debt to the registrants in the form of benefits and privileges.  This will inevitably reap to us huge profits beyond our wildest expectations and leave every American a contributor to this fraud which we will call “Social Insurance.”  Without realizing it, every American will insure us for any loss we may incur and in this manner; every American will unknowingly be our servant, however begrudgingly.  The people will become helpless and without any hope for their redemption and, we will employ the high office of the President of our dummy corporation to foment this plot against America.”

I haven’t been able to verify this account but considering other quotes made by the men who would be Kings, I would not put it beneath them. It just so happens that Mr. House also wrote a book under a pseudonym called Philip Dru, Administrator that documents Dru as he implements major reforms in the US political system while ascending to the heights of total dictator. Considering how many characters in novels are amalgams of an author’s own subconscious fantasies, I would surmise that Mr. House as his name implies “housed” a hyperbolic inner tyrant. And if there is any question how the men who would be Kings could pull off such a monolithic deception, Les Visible points out as much about the millions of twittering fleas who have swapped their conscience for social mobility. These are those who through graft, countervailing and manipulation of the simple strands of truth have created a Freakshow of epic proportions no different than the dozens of microbiologists and genetic scientists in secret government labs.

I’m compelled to believe it’s a diversion being hung up about the political prisoners in China, Burma or the Palestinian dissidents in Israel though I have more solidarity with them than the gendarmerie with the scroll and keys. But I can’t take my eyes off a bigger ball closer to home. We are all “political prisoners” to some extent. Those who are bound by their pledge of allegiance to a murderous, venomous, wayfaring Sate, who see no right of exit and no recourse, who disappoint themselves every few years under the vainglorious belief that this year’s Congressional blue chip recruits won’t throw their integrity pills into Dante’s Inferno at the first sign of Jezebel’s lactating breast.

There are many examples I could point to. In most homes, you can pick up any item or overturn any piece of furniture and its place of manifest will more than likely be China or some other sub region of Asia. Like those slave labor implants, there are “drugs” and vilified plants that if there were a tracking code we could follow through the hands and cargo space of the intermediaries would lead us through the Underground Railroad of covert extra-governmental operations- a network of ad hoc corporations and agencies that provide the legs for the “official” government’s increasing criminalization of every atom of life. That in turn bolsters the bottom line of the private corporations whose interest in justice is not only tied but superseded by the itching in their pockets. An interlocking feedback loop where a copious amount of those twittering fleas known as “attorneys” and “lawyers” are needed to administer, or as I believe, shield the layman from discovery of the fraud. It’s not wonder the man known as Jesus is alleged to have made this comment: “Woe to you lawyers also! For you load people with burdens hard to bear, and you yourselves do not touch the burdens with one of your fingers.”

They have created a closed union where all of the initiates are trained in using surreptitious language that, rather than upholding and recognizing a man or woman’s unique identity, strips them of substance, diagnoses them as mute and incompetent, fills outs a prescription that re-presents or re-produces them as “wards,” “fictions,” “artificial”, and the nominal layman or laywoman have been so inculcated with the convenient tendency that they must seek out the learned men, the authorities, the knighted, the licensed, the certified to understand the clockwork of the world that when they are referred to as “person” or any other legal moniker, they slide seamlessly into the costume thinking they have preserved their rights or liberties. It is the Linguistic Prison, the descendant of Babylonian Talmudic law that has been used for other industries as well, banking, medicine, etc. and the twittering fleas have sucked the venision out of every other industry with their spiderwebs of red tape.

Not everyone accepts this narrative but I’ve seen enough of the traps of alleged truth devised by those sordid disassembled archons that my credulity is potentially infinite when probing into their extant records. If the gainsayers in the Emporium of Spectacles have committed large sums of money over multiple decades (and some believe, multiple centuries) to convert populations the world over to milquetoast, gophers, sycophants and feeble-minded illiterates, I wouldn’t expect them to arrange the deck of cards so that ever elusive “equality” is paramount in their “Court”, where they have codified all the rules of the game. Naïveté doesn’t even began to detail the subterfuge of this Royal Society of esquires.

The shattered hearts of those still pining for the next inducement of civil rights victories or that vaunted misleaders will demonstrate a bit of constitutional acumen is understandable. But the focus on whom or what organization agrees to recognize me as a living, existing, vibrant will only continue to legitimize their mystical powers. We need demystification, not the further apotheosis of the Emporium Of Spectacles, equating them with the ineffable, the divine, granting them the right to confer to you or I the right to exist or the right to be or to flow within the continuum. We come across so many people (some of us do) and if a passerby were to renounce us, we’d probably find it laughable, annoying maybe, but nothing requiring immense amounts of wasted power to overturn the renunciation or the mobilization of the foot soldiers.

Governments have a greater degree of reputation in many of our eyes still so many yet find it difficult to personally dispose of these edicts from our own minds. So unable to do that, some will cogitate on them until they evolve into more concrete form and shape, they become canonized in our own mind. I have no authority to tell you who or what you are. No group of imperial solipsistic bloodhounds calling themselves “Supreme” or Congress or (p)Resident can tell me who or what I am. That authority is reserved for me only. But if your world is made more bright, if your edges are smoothed out, if your nerves are calmed by a meaningless recognition, a simulacra of kindred identification from the Emporium of Spectacles and its licensed agents, be my guest. But be forewarned; to those we give the authority to define us, we also give the authority to rule us.

Listen, Little Man Of Small Crimes

Every once and forever ago, like most of the readers who end up here accidently through data mining searches, I have to do a system scan of my operating system. No, not the technical origami I am interfacing with as I type but the one system I see when I tear myself away from the motherboard and have a tete a tete with the man in the mirror. The conversation that ensues is along the lines of Wilhelm Reich’s imprecations in “Listen, Little Man.” Sometimes, when left to ovulate, fester and grow, the little man inside has an unassailable ego that cannot be broken down through the traditional detoxification ritual. And the strange thing for me is that the little man with his newfound bravado is not moved by honey-combed words or appeals to his valor and probity. 

I’ve heard it said, most noticeably in the Matrix film, that mankind is a virus and that meme has metastasized in the stagnant pools of the so-called green, sustainability and progressive movements. Based on a cursory reading of history which is the uniform one granted to us in our noble education centers, I can see how many people could put their finger on the pulse of events in the last century or two and even a few millennia before that and arrive at that temperature reading. Don’t get me wrong, I am in collusion with many of the green movement’s ideas and strive to be mindful, not of my carbon footprint, but another footprint that I find much more dharmic (or karmic) than how much C02 I’m releasing into the atmosphere. But I digress. This is not about the questionable Weltanschauung of that particular movement. I use that as a reference point.

The reference point is how easy it is to be persuaded by the spirit of rebellion and revolution and finding that instead of alleviating the problem in question, it is discovered that the problem is exacerbated through fight and resistance. Again, this not an indictment against any who pursue this path because I myself am tempted always to ingratiate myself with the most “radical” anti-this or that movement or wonder lugubriously about how the political systems that surround me are far off the path of my own worldview. Not the consensus or the prevailing opinion but my worldview, hopefully one I arrive at not in one livelong consummation but through coming back again and checking, re-checking and holding my current ontological profile up to the x-ray machine or beneath the jeweler’s microscopic appraisal.

There are many prescient folks that I follow that believe that we are at a nodal point in the process of time. This incision in the timewave brings with it not just a ubiquitous awakening whether many respond to it or not, but a great revealing. Depending on one’s place on the spectrum, some of the tremors might be noticeable consequences of this effect and to others they might just be a scatological rendezvous that is apart of the normal pig feed that the men with the slough bucket chuck from over the walls of their fortified palaces day after day. If we’ve become too accustomed to eating someone else’s leftover excrement the shift in the greater exposure may go over without a flinch or a moment of reflection for some. Like the person who bargains away their own integrity to become the lackey for the charlatans in the White House or on Madison Avenue, it soon comes that integrity is indispenable to humanity and selfhood. For others, and I’d include myself in that category, whether any one person’s apocalyptic scenarios are realized or whether the systems we live in settles into novelty again, there seems to be a William Butler Yeats “widening gyre” where:  

“The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.”

That seems to be the case but I am only one seeker and I cannot speak for anyone outside of my limited line of sight. But there are the sentiments in the venues I drop into from to time to sample the minds and revelations of others beyond my own reality tunnel. If you are one of the relentlessly curious ones, you’ve probably punched holes through the Styrofoam wall sometime ago and realized that the reality constructed about you and I was not the only one in existence. This can pertain to the reality that’s registered by its measure of density or lightness but it pertains also to the reality constructed through someone else’s words which is really what the Styrofoam walls are retrofitted with. Sometimes the words are the linguistic materials of others and sometimes we draw them from our own inner lexicon because digging any deeper than the public pool level waters might be too suffocating.

I’ve noticed that with the progressive movements of my times and I’ve noticed that when I survey my own lexicon arsenal. Most progressive movements assume a moral high road though they have no more claim to that road than the very people they lambast for their social failings. This is not to vindicate anyone who may be contributing to the pervasiveness of our current world misery because many of us, no matter what side of the dialectic we fall on, have sewn discord into the world though our footprint may be small and with too little scent to draw the hound dogs from the media kettle. Some have their Margaret Sangers, Edward Mandel Houses and Henry Kissingers. One side might have their Leo Strauss, Michael Chertoffs and George Bushes. There are many names that could be named and retracing the trajectory of many names to their origins provides insights that would be a blessing to a small town detective investigating a murder but become cultural taboo to the laymen who attempts to apply that science of inquiry to the overlords.

And that’s where I find myself, and maybe someone else has hitched his or her raft to that boat a time or two, when like the moral authorities among us I refuse to retrace the trajectories of my own path, to follow the line with the same sure hand that moves this flashing pointer to an icon on the computer. To check and consider its content, its uses, my veracity, to see what has been stored and forgotten in the shadow world of my unconscious carnivale where the tourist drifting through my life or my lines could not intuit by a quick scan. I don’t think I am a virus in the world and neither do I believe that humanity is a virus though I’ve entertained those ideas because of my association with certain movements. But if I’ve failed to reflect for months or maybe longer because my attention has been drawn to the protean waves on the surface of the high seas of political theatre or the latest obscenities, there are viruses that build up beneath foaming titillation. Forgotten sores and cuts and the blood from the unaided malady draws the sharks and other wild sea species. Lack of attention to my own spores and I find myself projecting into the world admonitions against the spores of those “others.” Seems right to some or maybe to those I can gather into a movement to increase the sound of our collective distain. But the more out that I go, the further in is the return path to myself when my own clarion call comes that a virus has breeched my own unguarded compound while I tried the Master Cleanse diet on the “others.”

 I have my Wilhelm Reich moment:

 “You’ve inherited a terrible past. Your heritage is a burning diamond in your hand. That’s what I have to tell you.”

“A doctor, a shoemaker, mechanic, or educator has to know his shortcomings if he is to do his work and earn his living. For several decades now you have been taking over, throughout the world. The future of the human race depends on your thoughts and actions. But your teachers and masters don’t tell you how you really think and what you really are; no one dares to confront you with the one truth that might make you the unswerving master of your fate. You are “free” in only one respect: free from the self-criticism that might help you to govern your own life.”

“I’ve never heard you complain: “You exalt me as the future master of myself and my world. But you don’t tell me how a man becomes a master of himself, and you don’t tell me what’s wrong with me, what’s wrong with what I think and do.”

“You let the powerful demand power “for the little man.” But you yourself are silent. You provide powerful men with more power or choose weak, malignant men to represent you. And you discover too late that you are always the dupe.”

The etymology of the word “represent” is an interesting study in the power of the Linguistic Penitentiary. Without even looking up the word, I could divide it and maybe you would get the message. Re-present. Whether it’s a re-presentation, a re-production, or any other “re”, we are mostly dealing with the act of creating an “image” or a “likeness” of a thing but not the actual thing or person (“person” itself meaning mask or persona but I think it fitting now that I think of it because there is no one layer to bore through). For me, when I’ve allowed my “little man” to usurp the position where my holistic self should very well be, I’m more inclined to go about looking for people, trendy words or catchphrases, authority figures, organizations, religious or new wave spiritual movements, trinkets and such, etc to re-present me. Who I become is a farrago of things picked up from others. But usually those things start to fill the room and life is a drag and I am immobile and stuck circling a wagon of worldly ills while the ones I’ve collected weigh at the knapsack around my waist.

This counterfeit Pax Americana is enough to give anyone with a shameful and  checkered background a chance at redeeming him or herself through comparing their own indiscretions with those of this murderous agency. Again, this is not to make light of the fruit or non-fruit produced by those “others” but I find it unbearable to cower over the tedious record of their crimes when the smallness of my own become huge when I refuse to accept the truth of my own self, abandoning to the flow, surrendering and finding new life in climbing upwards towards the execution place of my own little man. Realizing, once and again, as the gyre widens, that a scepter and sword in the hands of a “little man” can make me feel significant for a moment, especially when the obnoxious rant of my “little man” disappears into the symphony of millions of other “little men” and ‘little women” who forget themselves at our concierta to summon the bands of hell to dispose of the “others” whose crimes we smell like vultures over the decaying carcass though our own is covered in the grand revelry.

Notice how the more attention paid to things allows them growth potential. Object lessons are the war on drugs, the war on cancer, the war on AIDS, the war on terror, the war on poverty and many other types of wars that have been declared, many of them decades ago, that have gotten no better though billions upon billons of dollars have been siphoned through the network of interlocking trusts, foundations, think tanks, and banks that push these agendas. Notice. Consider. My “little man” likes to commend me when I am speaking out and he is more content when the empire is gathering power rather  than when it is losing it because I could be tricked into squandering more energy in hopes that my voice along with the millions of others can topple it. Because the empire’s very mission has been to appeal to my little man, as it leaves crumbs of its activities behind it, knowing that my little man will follow them even if he bump his head into the same conclusion, that my little man will obsess over the crimes of the open conpsiracy and entrain himself to the frequency of the Uniformity League. My little man finds an insatiable Schadenfreude in doing so. Fortunately, I see my little man and I do not wish to sublimate my dharma to him any longer. So listen up, little man. Follow me to the guillotine.

Here Is One

I’d recently come across Elizabeth Frazer, originally of Cocteau Twins fame. Much to my delight she had a deeply resonating relationship with Jeff Buckley, a musician that most registers on my frequency. As I data mined the net searching for clues of their affair I came across this short series detailing the symbology, synchronicity, mythology surrounding their union, one that was associated with a multiplicity of coiled, uncoiled, and recoiled emotions from both parties: http://secretsun.blogspot.com/search/label/Jeff%20Buckley I was mostly struck by the synchromystic author’s inferences of Fraser as a sort of etherwordly Siren with access to phenomenal auditory magic beyond the visual spectrum, drawing the forlorn and fatherless J. Buckley into her clutches, where his untutored and unprepared heart was distorted by a vagary of emotions in which his arrested psychic development left him vulnerable. As I’ve had an affinity with Arthurian legend since reading Christien de Troyes the later part of high school, Sir Lancelot came to mind, and speces of Lord Tennyson’s Lady Of Shalott. But even more is the image of the goddess Kali, with a necklace of skulls, dancing above her slain cohort, Shiva, after sucking his blood.

If you are not familiar with the life or music of Jeff Buckley, here is a rather folkloric slant of a documentary. The end of his life took on a mythic ambience, the emotive warrior in isolation, much like Lancelot wandering away from the Knights Of the Round Table, to nurse or attempt to rescind the flow of love he felt for Queen Guinevere. When I first discovered Jeff Buckley, I felt robbed as many of his fans seem to feel based on comments on youtube videos, but the more I delve into his music and the more the mystical qualities open up to me, I realize my spiritual naivete and move closer to a flowering understanding of the elegance of death. The Great Summit of Judgment or the Eternal Damnation runs through the river of Western eschatology. Holding onto those old stories, it’s easy to retreat in fear at the prospect of Kali and her sword or tremble at the great wrath of Jehovah. Maybe we will find that once abandoned to the flow, we will be where we believe we shall be. In Buckley’s case, he washed up at the end of Beale Street, home of the blues.

Elizabeth Fraser and Jeff Buckley, “All Flowers In Time Bend Towards The Sun.”  Indeed.

Coptic Panoptic Terror

Only days after the blitzkrieg at Fort Hoodwinked, the DC Sniper is sedated to death. Either the Perennial Avatar has a fetish for synchronicity or the kulturkampf trumpeters from Tavistock and its international subsidiaries have just orchestrated another segment in their Changing Images of Man ritual. The marauding Watchmen have already proposed a toast to the suggestive mind of a frail and vulnerable humanity; that permanent peace is beyond the grasp of our outreached hands sans the cathartic radioactive contamination of the earth. And maybe somewhere circling the dusty steeps of Iron Mountain, the hidden hands of the Crown are finally marching their Clydesdales to the tent cities below, for the Pivoting of Civilization can only be realized with our names on the contract titled Georgia Guidestones.

To ensure our full cooperation to this adhesion contract, “terror” has been the canon linguistic brain-stopper. What is the shelf life of a word like “terror” or has it immortally metastasized in the limbic chamber of our bio-survival circuit? How do we distinguish the terrors already taking place in many parts of the world beyond the airbrushed landscapes of the Emerald city where the barrios and the backwood prepare the feast for Holodomor? Beyond the veils of domestic catfights over pension funds, beyond the flickering incandescent lights in towering office complexes, the chemical despoliation our bodies have accustomed themselves to wafting through the phallic monuments and the pyramidal stones of the ancient brotherhoods; to lands already experiencing 2012, where always off-course sniper drones mirror Holly-wood disaster scenes, where reinvisioned Berlin walls of apartheid oppression stand stoically while the collective dementia pats itself on the back for magnanimous events of yesteryear, where “humanitarian” ethnic cleansing toils on unencumbered under the guise of crypto-democracy and crypto-dominionism while a legion of wheeling-and-dealing Screwtapes seduce the psyche of civilization in their Armani and Brooks Brother suits.

The watchmen have been standing at their post and they are weary of watching for whatever that thing is that just curled its hands over the horizon. The watchmen can’t watch for it any more than it can watch for a sports car that may well turn into a Transformer by the time it crosses Route 66 looking for its fix. Might be wise to safeguard ourselves from absolute meanings at this time when steam-headed irony has taken the road more traveled AND the road less traveled because it soon will find its divided head bumping into Planck’s Wall where the paradox converges at the cosmic potluck. Don’t be enticed to spin for the clockwork orange social engineers when their leading Chefs are serving dishes that have no definable ingredients, only implied ones. As Alan Watts was wise in saying, “the menu is not the meal.” When their abstract verbiage has become the Andromeda hobgoblin cannibalizing everything indigenous to human activity that by association any out-of-place human behavior can be conjectured as “terror” sympathetic or terrorist like, we have entered the methamphetamine tweak zone of Minority Report; a society freely walking the trail of tears to its own reduction, passive-complicit in the erection of the Panopticon, where we all graciously accept uniformity as an act of social conscious and solidarity, for to accept anything resembling eccentricity might trip the silent alarms of the incognito men peering between the crevices of the blinds from their communitarian Tower of Babel.

An ungraceful motion or an awkward, untutored harangue might compute through their digital translation software to be the quirks of an isolationist or the mutterings of a madman, or the “unmutual” ravings of the Village resistor too wedded to his or her delusions of freedom of intelligentsia or the ecstasy of spirituality, the loss of which could only make one appear, as Richard Dawkins seems to me, a dried up prune clamoring to outlaw all magic and myth to make a “safe place” for his own scientific dogma.

The lunatics are on the fringes, the lepers have been marginalized and pushed to the landfills outside the prime meridians of the enlightened geometria of Templar cities. Not a word is to be uttered less it conform to the counterfeit Universal Code of the Scientific Dictators. Not a rule is to be violated though Dionysius has hammered the planks of laws so far above our heads and decreed such a multiplicity of them than no one knows what the real rules of the game are excepting the Parker Brothers at the top of the economic food chain. Truth has become a million rambling yells and echoes at Grant Park where the tyranny of political correctness and the tyranny of guilt walked hand in hand with neuro-linguistic programming to crown a Manchurian candidate while Denzel foams over erratic notebooks and cuts chips from his shoulder blowing the trumpets to the very ones who staged the spectacle.

There will always be the Rorschachs among us curious enough at the glaring disparity to follow the white rabbit through the doors of perception and call the Queen’s blush. But the tricks and traps concealed within ubiquitous symbols has been a safe haven among a society of functional illiterates. We seem to have a knack for bumping into malice and mistaking into for the actual magic; not to say that certain malice doesn’t posses magic but depending on what square of the chessboard we are on, we might be invoking the side of the coin we did not call out. And if the mind be caught in the web of Wag The Dog “terror”, the more inclined that mind is to pick up the first figurine coming off the assembling line of the National Training Laboratories in “hopes” that this time the choice will be more than “paper or plastic?”  How odd is it that millions of people wait with baited breath for the decision of one man? I repeat, millions of people wait for the decision of one man. The walls are collapsing in our own homes but somehow eyes are laser honed on an affirmative action stooge hundreds or thousands of miles away.

Return ye children of men.

After being a widget or a cog in the mechanistic carousel of the blind watchmaker it is no ease to return to the scrapyard of humanity. Being hermetically sealed in the catacomb of the death culture makes the spasm of oxygen that seeps into our self-created sepulchers throw one into an asthmatic whip o’ whirl. The slip of the terahertz wave is writing the obituary but we refuse to show up to our own funerals. If the cowards among us will not die of their own volition, and I know a few things about the protocols of cowardness, the universal bill collector will call the notes due and sweep in with the vulgarity of the gadfly. The true holder in due course, the Principal Agent, that which I might call by a dozen names depending on my geography, has channeled a message, “swear no oaths to the monoliths.” Terror has performed as their talisman to coerce us all into co-signing the contract for our own disposal. Don’t let fear be our invitation to the purging.

Pimp Or Be Pimped

 

Pimp Or Be Pimped

 

Comedian Bill Hicks said in an act: “I was over in Australia and they were asking me: ‘You proud to be an American?” Well, um, I don’t know. I didnt have a lot to do with it. My parents fucked there. That’s about all…I hate patriotism, I can’t stand it, it makes me fucking sick, it’s a round world last time I checked …in fact I’ll tell you how we can stop patriotism. Instead of putting stars and stripes on our flags we should put pictures of our parents fucking…see how many boot and rally mentalities can circle around that image!”

 

If you aren’t familiar with Bill Hicks, he was a poignant political commentator and infused many of his standup acts tackling the rampant stupidity that was erupting like volcanic infernos across the Americana panorama. A stupidity that can’t be separated from the constant baptisms of patriotism in the cesspools of a kleptocratic system that has convinced the vast settlers of America that giving away sweat and dollars for token services is someone exercising this mystic invention called “democratic principles.” Why? “Well, it’s about America,” is the rejoinder. America? “Yes, America, we must save our country!” Why? What about saving people? All this talk about saving the de facto, abstract corporate term, America, only serves to drag attention away from the people. It’s sort of like me saying I want to save my “birth name” and if my body doesn’t make it along, that’s the breaks. “Democratic principles” must prevail!

 

Tell the settlers that there is no such thing and they point to the ballot box or some corporate-financed organization as evidence of these “democratic principles”; organizations like the ACLU or NAACP that were created and financed by the same powers that have conspired since the inception of the Union to design a kleptocracy all to their liking. They might even point to something like the “freeing of the slaves” (being that I’m black, that is supposed to woo me) as a sign of our progress, not mentioning that Lincoln’s so-called emancipation was political and had nothing to do with those enlightenment principles multiplying in the petri dish of America and finally spreading to black America. It is not ungratefulness to recognize it; it is important to dispell the delusions associated with the Great Emancipation.

 

Lincoln wrote himself about his reservations for freeing the slaves and had every desire to see them returned to Africa. Same goes for the so-called Civil Rights movement and women’s liberation; the same kleptocratic class was behind these movements, and it had nothing to do with equalizing social roles, and everything to do with forceful segregation which has bred years of resentment and creating a whole new class of citizens to be pawned off for the growing debt. Again, not ungratefulness, just an observation and studies are showing that many areas are just as segregated as they were 50 years ago and the family, well, it speaks for itself. One of the leading voices of feminism, Gloria Steinem, had far too many shady connections to CIA and corporate interests to tranquilize that horse and Martin Luther King was tolerated until he began to speak out about the money-changers biggest death industry: War! It’s all smoke and mirrors, no different than an author creating antagonists and protagonists in a novel. The only thing holding this crap spiel up is that we have not had an ultimate denouement, where the curtain doesn’t fall but rises on the real players in the act (it’s happening, here and there, slowly and surely). In the meantime, we get crypto-fascism and countervailing; and people are happy to pick from the prefabricated slogans while the demolition team is busy setting the proverbial detonation devices in place to further the social anomie.

 

We have too many ladies and gentlemen, far too polite to make any radical judgments about the systems in which we live because many are quite satisfied with the “perceived” benefits even while others are suffering because of it. Too many harboring things that they will only admit in secret and only to those who won’t ridicule them, that their fears and doubts run deeper than is demonstrated while they are stuffing the ballot box or feeding dollars to a political organization. To deny or deflect attention away from where the problems are emitting from time and again because we have “nominal patriots” that think by their party securing just enough Senate seats or an extra spot on the bench they are saving the country is foolishness. This country will not be saved by elections or political action committees. Stuffing the halls of Congress with “reform” candidates is like putting cats in a tank of piranhas where they are ripped and razored by the tentacles of the usury monolith. These people do not move to our tune no matter how loud the cacaphony of disagreement. Must we look at the sad record in recent history of the overwhelming opposition to bills and laws that were passed anyway? Using the very system that has enslaved and is enslaving folks in hopes to find freedom is a dream deferred. It is rotten to the core and can only be “reformed” or rather “reborn”  through its own self-engineered demise. It will be a cathartic breakthrough if it is to happen and many of us believe it will for more reasons than political ones. Hell, ask that prescient Russian historian that was laughed at 15 years ago for his prediction of America’s “collapse.”

  

It’s all about the money, stupid! And many will agree with that but refuse to understand the depths of the usury monolith. It is easier to believe that a political system ruled by kleptocrats and maniacs can somehow serve anyone, that whole cognitive dissonance thing.  That is the reassuring banner in the mind to mollify us as we go about our American rote and tote, work and play routines. The one that throws the entire operation into a tailspin is to follow the “money trails”; not just one, but the many, multi-hydra headed money trails wherever they might lead. These things do not bore people; they frighten people. Mainly because it would force us out of the realm of being mere stenographers for the soundbites of the system and coming to our own conclusions; and one of the most important conclusions is that in a system with a centralized money structure, that money will always rule out over any so-called “progressive” or “revolutionary” candidates that are appointed to serve the people, particularly when these radical figures must come to the trough of the Money Trust (as Charles Lindberg called them) to feed from their slop. On top of that, they are already compromised before the oath is sworn, maybe a polaroid or some video footage, not to mention the extensive dossiers the intelligence agencies keep on all of these “stand alone” figures and so-called mavericks. Eliot Spitzer learned that lesson; his rendezvous with high-priced prostitutes was well known by intelligence. It was only when he spoke openly against the rampant mortgage fraud taking place in America did he find his fall. Tough luck, eh.

 

 

Voting is not about freedom; getting majorities in the House or Senate is not about freedom or change. It is a desperate grasp to lower the effects of the next round of serfdom. The thinking is that, hopefully, someone seemingly attentative to my worldview will be voted into office. And if that is the case I am quite pleased with terrororizing others with my worldviews, forcefully imposing them even because “Hell, the Right fucked things up for eight years. It’s our turn to run roughshod with our agendas no matter how many people disapprove or not.” Political bitterness, vendettas and vindictiveness. Ancient games of betrayal and payback. There is no sanity to it although it is held up as the most civilized process of government mankind has ever seen! And when it is called out for the insanity that it is, the criticizers are called out as anarchists or seditionists at worse.

 

“How would YOU do it better? If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem!” And here, I’ve been thinking all along it had more to do with the whole divide and conquer game they’ve willingly given themselves to in hopes of imposing their worldview and making us all drive Priuses. All these cute questions and anecdotes they offer up attempting to squash dissent and endorse the psycho-social bloodbath, terrorizing each other with agendas neither accept. Because in the end, that is all it is. Neither the Right nor the Left have any authority over the other, to tell one another how they should conduct their lives, what programs or reforms they should support or where their monies should go to. This is not simplifying the debate. It is just as simple as that. Two rabid political parties fighting it out tooth and nail every two or four years to distinguish the Sou Chef from the dishwasher. I’m sorry to tell you, you are both dishwashers and you’d be better off in realizing that. Please shut the hell up and if you can’t agree with one another, which is the majority of the time, secede, individually, politically, disenfranchise. If you refuse to see your common “enemy”, than political dissolution is the only path.

 

But no, the competition for who will enslave the other must continue, you know, for “democratic principles” and such, because we’re so cocksure our liberalism is better than your conservatism and vice versa, ad infinitum. But what’s even worse about this whole program is that these rabid pit bulls, no matter which one gets to sleep in the Master’s house for the next four years, have decided on far too many occasions and continuing that the ideologies of the rest of the world are far too pernicious for democracy and we must set examples and institute those “democratic principles” around the world. We are so good at it that we have turned it into an industry that is booming even when the rest of the world has gone bust. It’s got staying power! And the double murder is the elevation of our so-called democratic society that make us better than other human specimen because we’re fucking American and automatically qualify us with some divine stamp of supremacy to send mercenaries and eugenicists called “armies” around the world to prove it.

 

The troublesome pity I feel is of that old adage that misery loves company. I believe we are honestly so bitter, that there is such a disconnect between what freedom is and the kind being manufactured, that we must create catastrophe for others to alleviate that contradiction. It ties in to many factors that I won’t discuss but Erich Fromm touches upon so well in his book The Sane Society where he contemplated the psychosis in Western European societies that are suppposedly more “advanced” than others. The rank despair we must feel, the eeking through the vile to survive that only exacerbate the selfishness mode.  

 

I don’t criticize any kind of selfishness because we all must be self-guided in our ways but the overemphasis on selfishness alone in a quack capitalist system that fuels it will be our undoing. We do not look to the repressed around the world with solidarity, but instead turn our faces away, content to drown out the sounds of death we are guilty of in our collective silent complicity, and deleting the images of dead children because things are rough in our neck of the woods too, why should we care? Hell, many of us think these folks deserve what they get for no other reason than their leaders had some beef with “our” leaders and see fit to delegate their fight to thousands of other deluded men called “soldiers.” What happened to a good ol’ fist fight or 12 step pistol drawl? If they must fight, let those who pound the drums of war the loudest fight and that means the small group of insiders stoking the flames. Wouldn’t you love to see these high-powered eunichs settle their squabbles with something like mud Sumo wrestling in a reinvisioned Roman Coliseum? Dick Cheney vs Ahmadinejad in Round 1 and Barack Obama vs Vladimir Putin in Round 2! (and this is only the amateur slate)

 

But no, there is a mere Ra!Ra! to push our swords into plowshares. The political astute in this country believing that there really is good at the heart of the system, who has rationally reached his decision because he has “studied the issues” or “vetted the candidates,” is nothing more than a satellite for forces he neither sees nor understands. The idea that he can be sold to the cause of preserving a corporation or entity such as government is itself a postponement of his own murder. All things are disposable to the preservation of the nation state. Not merely the foreigners, rice-growing Vietnamese, Paraguyan and Chiliean farmers or 500,000 Iraqi children as Madeliene Albright dismissed, but those who support the nation State are likewise as disposable. The State does not appeal to the public because it cares about their woes; it appeals to the public to legitimate its own power, to stroke its inconceptual ego. Soon, if the zeitgeist evolve, and the proper conditions met, the guns used to preserve the kingdom will turn against those inside the kingdom. Maybe it doesn’t happen straightaway; and maybe it is not a gun in the traditional sense of the word, at least at first.

Outright usurpation is a bit difficult these days. Surreptition and subversion is preferred and the banker’s army, the CIA has a long, sordid history of political assassinations, coups and color revolutions. Follow the money trail! It is the same money that Lysander Spooner was riling against in the 18th century: the Rothschilds and the 19th century addendum, the Rockefellers, and over time, a vast harem of front groups and societies. Spooner, along with folk like Andrew Jackson, saw the usurious leeches attempting their infiltrations into an already compromised government, and knew that if their foothold were to grow, the nation would fall into sure and certain peonage. The Protocols Of the Learned Elders Of Zion is a disputed document, plagiarized from Montesqieu but if there was a master blueprint, this would take the cake. Follow the money! It has captured all industry, finance, education, politics, science, media. Those who draw attention to the inordinate control are castigated and defamed. It is improper to mention these things; these are the things that must be whispered about as Woodrow Wilson so aptly wrote after he signed away the money creation to a cartel of international banks:

“Since I entered politics, I have chiefly had men’s views confided to me privately. Some of the biggest men in the U.S., in the field of commerce and manufacturing, are afraid of somebody, are afraid of something. They know that there is a power somewhere so organized, so subtle, so watchful, so interlocked, so complete, so pervasive, that they had better not speak above their breath when they speak in condemnation of it.”

When the tripwire is set off, there may come a day when those who really oppose government abuse will be carted off under the name of “national security” or some other euphemistic decoy. The nominal patriot will gloat at those who thought his naivete foolish as they are disappeared, executed or genocided. But even his celebration may be short-lived because the spirit of Augusto Pinochet is relentless. After he has so willingly wasted his time defending and concocting mottos to vindicate the murderous rampagers, whether abroad or at home, he may deal with those guns being turned upon himself. All the rationalities that stem from that grandiose premise of the supremacy of his country and were nothing more than devilish justifications to pardon himself and his country of any liability in its evil are entirely true!(in a sense) Those justifications can equally be used against himself when he has no idea what protecting the country means or who the “country” is and does not realize that those “elected” officials who claim to represent the country have a wholly different definition of country. A country governed by commercial activity, negotiable instruments, trade, banking bonds and corporations. Follow the money!

But the nominal patriot will not see this, just as the nominal German did not understand how the Nazi religion had bastardized the idea of nationalism nor the Slavic Russian understood what the Bolsheviks had planned for the mass slaughter of its people. It may not be seen, not until the maniacal nationalism has reached such a fever pitch that far too many are swept away in an overflowing appetite that can only be quenched with more bloodbath. And even as the guns are drawn and the troops storm the public gates, some may still refuse to see it. “It still cannot be happening, not in our country, not in corporate America.” But while the nominal patriot was busy accusing everyone else of evading responsibility for refusing the game anymore, he himself was piping up slogans, accepting the treasonist’s gifts of monies, grants, loans and programs promising flourishing futures, while the treasonist’s worked behind the scenes to obstruct any possible abundance.

 

At what cost? How can we reason out the costs at the time when the benefits are now? We will lie to ourselves about the consequences or disregard those who must be robbed and murdered to uphold our so-called civilized society. We may not care at all, that in and of itself another embedded contradiction in a country that regularly harps on and on about its human rights records (one that has been thoroughly discredited by Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch). It is very likely in the guise of preserving the corporation of the US, that we will stand aside while neighbors and friends are rounded up and carted off for refusing any number of things, vaccinations, gun confiscation, martial law, et al. Anything for the preservation of the State, anything to uphold the terms of the corporation, as our identity may not exist without it.

 

And it is this which provides us with a thin veil of legitimacy as our third-party intermediaries exploit the rest of the world, the idea being, “If we don’t oppress, kill, poison and maim, someone else will step in to fill the role. Why not monopoly the genocide and murder market before someone else does?”  

 

 “Pimp or Be Pimped” is their despicable, rapacious motto, even though it means little and stands for nothing. It is vacuous as the gray matter between the brains of those who say it, evidence that there must be thousands of synapses misfiring to come to such dastardly ends. And it’s not that it is despicable as it is, but what is far worse, is it pretends to be based on a realistic sketch of human behavior. But the so-called scientific rationalism and biological inherency is foolish as there is mathematically more people at any given time living “civil” than those stuffing rifles with gunpowder for war. It is a “logical” fallacy if we were to begin from their premise. Even appealing to the annals of historical wars is no indication that genocide and murder is justified or the dominating element in the human condition. The vast majority of people killed in wars are not even involved in the wars; they have not picked up arms, built forts or established bases; they hold no executive posts at Halliburton or Lockheed Martin.

 

Small cartels of people with agendas wholly cut from another cloth devise these things. It is vile and intellectually retardant to even suggest that the millions of people who have died in world wars are case studies for the propriety of war. These millions of deaths are the innocent bystanders, not the active participants. There must not be a enough real members in the war machine so the psychopaths must turn their attentions to innocent civilians to pacify their raging thirst for bloodshed, misusing the energies of young men, inculcating them with savage rights of ritual warfare, and sending them into the murderous fields of battle where they emerge psychologically disheveled and spiritually shattered. And at the end, the millions of dead are further “scientific” proof that people are not just naturally inclined for war, but it is their superior trait! If it signals anything, it shows how utterly naive and vulnerable the mind of humankind is, that it can so easily be turned to murder through state propaganda and false flag attacks. To say anything more is a less than cute cover for the very small percentage of verifiable psychopaths among us to co-sign their merciless slaughter.

 

It is no less nefarious than the myth of superior bloodlines or the Divine Right Of Kings granting regular smuts the cover to subjugate the rest of the world due to their alleged sacred DNA. And though the amoral rationalists castigate religion as unscientific, they build their stupidity on the same grounds as the Roman Church did for centuries- that they were the vicars of God and could use torture, terror, coercion and force to turn the world to salvation. Political “science” uses the same wretched twisting of sense, that through some alleged empiricism and absolutism they have deemed human nature incorrigbly warlike and it feeds into the Fight Clubs of political Babylon. Whether spreading Catholicism or so-called murderous, fiendish democracy, the object is still the same and the myths as equally repugnant.

 

I say it is a vile cowardness, one that I am all too familiar with, that allows a man to appeal to some lofty ideal or unprovabele myth to absolve himself and his Corporate State of the weight of his crimes. The problem is that it is an ideological cowardness that moves us away from the bloodshed of the battle and our apparent complicity and it is all the more perfidious because of it. An outright murderer is less to be feared than the ideological coward. An outright murderer kills and does not offer any justification for his actions. He may honestly say, “I just want to kill” and mean it. In my eyes, he should be held to higher regard than the coward who uses unproveable myths and slogans to justify his murders. And when called out for the complicity in supporting the murders of his Corporate State, ducks away into the flags of horseshit political theory and unsubstantiated sciences.  

 

The same leniency given to the outright murderer should go to the guy who tells the woman plainly, “I just want to fuck.” The brutal honesty, unacceptable in the age of political correctness, may be discomfiting but it will be a halt to pretentious wining and dining, only to be fucked and abandoned a month later. The ideology that governs wars is a dangerous one as it never admits it intentions, and its danger multiplies the critical mass of its evil when millions of others accept the official myths or their own created myths to justify genocide and murder. It is obvious to anyone who studies history that the agendas of a small group of people ignite wars. And like all things, follow the money!

 

The same elements funding the wars of centuries ago are still fomenting and funding the wars of today. Not only has their money conscripted many of the world’s political systems but their money has also conscripted the mediums that massage the public consciousness. War is not about human nature, it is not about science. It is about resources, negotiable instruments, bonds and bars of “precious” metals! It is about money! Follow the freaking money! It is not about defending, protecting or providing for anyone. The millions of useful idiots who hurriedly buy in to the official reasons for war only add a faux sense of legitimacy to a war that has no legitimacy from the start and will not have any legitimacy no matter how many pretty speeches or petty spokespersons sing of its glories.

 

There are far too many so-called rational thinkers who subscribe to this “Pimp Or Be Pimped” foolishness knowing that they themselves don’t have the competence to pimp anyone or anything. They like to whitewash evils on a mass scale with political slogan and so-called scientific rationalism but don’t adopt them on an individual scale. Why not? They would be trembling cowards if we were to apply that ideology to everyday living, if we were to adopt the “Pimp Or Be Pimped” platform and all of its barbaric injustices. War, imperialism, colonialism, etc, stripped to what it really is, is mass murder. If it is acceptable on that scale, why not make it acceptable in our neighborhoods, towns, cities, and between states?

  

Where we had no right to go into our neighbor’s home to dispossess them of their property before, let us go into our neighbor’s home freely robbing them of all valuables and setting flame to their homes on the way out, less they do it to us first, you know, pre-emptive strikes! Where we had no right to kill unwittingly before, let us stroll through the streets shooting passerbys down with impunity. And if there are some appalled bystanders, just say, “hey, it’s Pimp Or Be Pimped.” If that is really how it is and that is acceptable, why not adopt it for yourself, you high and mighty scientific realist? Why outsource it to third parties to assuage your shame? What shame? Oh, you know the shame. That you are a coward if you subscribe to the ideology of “Pimp Or Be Pimped” and if you can’t even apply it on an individual scale, you are a double coward.

 

“Pimp Or Be Pimped” only applies when others are doing the pimping for us, such as our political scapegoats. If it were widely adopted, and not under the cover of horseshit slogan, we would be sick of it within days. Matter of fact, most of those who hide behind the political syllogisms would abscond out of fear because they don’t have a heart for “Pimp Or Be Pimped”, it’s not in their nature, and they would be devoured alive if it suddenly become fair game to pimp each other out. They would hear “Bitch, better have my money!” all day long and get smacked from here to Timbukto.

 

In effect, we’ve already been pimped out. We claim to have a voluntary system of government but our choice is overwritten at birth. We are registered agents of the State before we develop the ability to say “No!” It’s not enough that we are pledged to the State without our consent, but that conscription continues unabated as a disproportionate number of us are herded to government schools and there download the official mantras, mottos and cliches of Statism or should we say a a more user-friendly form of the concept of “eternal allegiance” that was a part of that whole Dark Ages period. Did your Civics class introduce you to Thomas Paine, John Stuart Mill, Lysander Spooner or Fredrich Bastiat? Probably not. Rather, you probably heard about the bravery of the founding fathers who were such staunch supporters of liberty they devised an entire Constitution sans the Bill of Rights; and in only a few years of divorcing themselves from British enscrewment, passed the Alien & Seditions Act of 1798 to stifle dissent, riot and controversy. Oh, those “democratic principles” were working so well then and work no better now.

 

It is a collectively agreed upon slow process of annihilation. Millons of individual Terry Schiavos, barely hanging onto the cosmic spark with no apparent say so in the matter. Years of trauma, grueling alienation and castigation from adminstrators so insecure in themselves they must psychologically torture the minds of the young until the ideas of individual liberty and personal expresssion only find a simulcra of release through the filter of the State and the flag of country.

I can see the scenes in the movie Breakfast Club of Principal Vernon and his scathing rebukes of the outcast Jonathan Bender: “You think he’s funny? You think this is cute? You think he’s “bitchin,” is that it? Let me tell you something. Look at him – he’s a bum. You want to see something funny? You go visit John Bender in five years. You’ll see how goddamned funny he is.” Oh no, not all of us got that pimp hand treatment but whether hidden or outright reproof the minds of far too many have been defragged and regimented by shuffling them into the uniform syllabus. As Dmitri Orlov writes at his blog: “And so, in the meantime, let’s continue to mindlessly send our children off to “learning” institutions, where they will be properly supervised at all times, bored half to death, medicated into submission should they rebel, even by simply refusing to pay attention, not taught anything worth knowing by demoralized, underpaid public servants, and then spat out into the world with their spirits crushed.” They exit in no better state of mind than the emotionally decrepit prostitute who only knows submit or be submitted. Patriotic schooling covered up in the same slogans and myths that were sublimated as not to recognize that we were really being injected with poisons and brain-numbing adjuvants to nullify the effects. Especially History class where every American war was a great war and the seeds of Statism were implanted only to grow later into the motto “Pimp Or Be Pimped”; a safe umbrella for the ideological coward, hell for the rest of the world.

The Fog Of Psychogenic Fugue

 

 

 The Fog Of Psychogenic Fugue

 

 

There are some that believe the earth underwent a catastrophic event 12,000 to 13,000 years ago. There is not much written evidence to support this claim–although there are a few lines and writings in ancient text that allude to a devastating event that altered the scale of human life on the earth. The Mahabharata and the Book Of Enoch mention some harrowing tales. Some revisionist historians, scientists and archeologists have deduced that some earth-shattering event took place, some type of deluge or atomic detonation. Whatever it was left an indelible imprint on the human consciousness, a memory card of trauma inserted into our very DNA. Since then, humanity has been committed to a chaotic asylum of perpetual war, death and disease. Gaia’s psyche twisted into some madhouse realm of 20th century horror films narrated by Edgar Allan Poe and the score composed by Marilyn Manson.

 

Paul Shepard in A Kind of Madness: “The change to a more hostile stance toward nature began between five and ten thousand years ago and became more destructive and less accountable with the progress of civilization.”

Erich Fromm in Anatomy Of Human Destructiveness: “The detailed description of the life of primitive hunters and food gatherers has shown that man – at least since he fully emerged fifty-thousand years ago – was most likely not the brutal, destructive, cruel being and hence not the prototype of “man the killer” that we find in more-developed stages of his evolution.”

Widespread trauma disintegrates the neural circuitry. Synapses don’t fire like they usually do, there are glitches in the brainwave activity. The storm of trauma leaves a thick fog hovering in the canal of logistical thought and acute perception. Tyrannists and would-be dictators of all kinds are aware of the “brain-freeze” that takes place when whole swarms of people are inflicted by trauma. The debate is never-ending on whether they stage crisises, but there is no doubt that they exploit them. 9/11 induced this psychic defragmentation in people although not everyone was directly affected. Not everyone has to be, just being close to an event that affects the emotional and mental stability of millions will have some secondary effect on us—the sorcery of Roche Limit—the “shock and awe” of observing two temples of world commerce collapse into their own footprint, even through the TV medium, was unbearable for a nation comfortable in its hegemonic power grip. Viewing this event was like spilling gasoline trails throughout the mind. The resulting fear and anxiety are nothing more than the match igniting flames through the spiderweb of axons and neurons.

 

The psyche is shattered, and like Humpty Dumpty, there is no piecing it back together again. The flames rage leaving nothing but a hollow shell or a sketetal frame of what used to be some architecture of sense and belief. The former identity is shaken from its heights and the ego is quickly activated to protect the weakened mind. Ego is not real. Ego is illusion, figment and chimera. We only talk about it conceptually, as a sort of map that can never represent the actual living, breathing, moving people and operation of a city or country. As Nisargadatta Maharaj says “If you notice, you only have a self when you’re in trouble.” And it comes leaping in to fill the vacuum in moments of extreme shock, focused only on biosurvival and preserving what is left of the now traumatized psyche. Reduced to infancy, a sort of tabula rasa, a new script is written in the mind. Abandoned by the old sense of security, the old privilege, we fetishize the nearest “mothering” object. “I” and “mine” and “us” and “them” become the chosen identifications to stake our plot of land or protect some mutable thing that we can never completely possess or conquer.

 

I’ve noticed that there are many people who feel this way, reduced, infantilized, helpless, powerless, incapable in the face of such overwhelming political abandonment and calamity—and many are afraid to talk about it. Maybe it forces us to consider ourselves much more than the superficial way we’ve been accustomed to. Current trauma has led us to turn those powerful people on the chatterbox into motherly and fatherly icons to caress us after the old security has been ripped from beneath us. Economic woe, ecological disaster, devastating war and rumors of wars. This is our heritage derived from past catastrophe. Whatever the “big” event was, we continue to be paralyzed by subsequent live-action historical events but still accept the underlying syntax that allow this trauma to replicate. I can feel the groaning of the earth as it is polluted by war, corruption and lies. The earth, where we excavate the materials for most of our technologies, is being injected with virus after virus and yet we actively and/or passively live out the belief that we were appointed rulers to subdue the earth and lasso nature like some yankee horse ranchmen. And remain complacent that those powerful people, who we’ve turned into mother/father objects, who are just as ruined by the trauma, will take charge and “heal the world.”

It might derive from that memory encoded in our DNA, of the tumultuous and often unpredictable shake ups of nature, that force us into obsessions of controlling elemental nature. HAARP, the weather manipulation branch of government, has learned ways to manipulate atmospheric frequencies and create holographic films in the sky for some years now. And of course we know the sad legacy of our megalith corporations and their mafia treatment of the earth and relatively defenseless “third-world” countries. Could this be some embedded vendetta against nature because of the past deluge? And who is it that has got us calling other parts of humanity “third-world” anyway as if the earth is split into three worlds and divided by some galactic space? We can figure out where this meme comes from and what it is meant to accomplish. Another labeling scheme to divest our hearts from the “others” who are being exploited, poisoned, polluted, murdered and debt-enslaved so that we in the so-called “first-world” can maintain our amusement parks, have our MP3 players and poorly built automobiles. While the ironic thing is that: “we can’t hold others down without staying down with them” and so the whole earth perishes.

While it is becoming more and more apparent with each passing day that we are entering unprecedented upheaval and transformation, the public opinion leaders are coaxing us, reassuring us and promising that if we wait out the storm, rainbows and pots of gold will be waiting on the otherside. I know that not everyong is buying that story–and a bit ticked at the folk who think we are silly for suggesting that there are multiple threads to the saga. I’ve met far too many people whose knowledge, breath and depth have impressed me and called into question some of my own silly red herring chasing and what it really means to hold a belief or truth in action, and not just in lip service or in resentment. Not just ranting and raving in the bullhorn of cyberspace or debating endlessly about facts and figures, or begrudging others for who I perceive to be stupidly accepting the carefully packaged seven-course propaganda meal of Restaurante de Media. The official line has and continues to be that all’s well and it will end well, get back to business as usual, Hollywood Jeopardy and political stargazing; a little off trail zigzag, a little bump and voila, “on the road again.”

 

The underbelly is a bit different. Foreign troops are conducting military exercises with American troops on American soil. Police agencies are being armed to the teeth with military-grade weapons and “crowd-control” devices. Banks are still failing weekly, unemployment rolls continue to decrease. There is every indication that hyperinflation is on the way; that on top of a feckless dollar reverting back to its actual worth: zero. Rumors of food shortages and the banking system only having a few more months left, maybe early fall. The US economic system has been effectively insolvent and is now controlled by foreign governments and international bankers. Yet, decaying pop culture icons are being rolled up and down the runway. Story after story seems a deflection away from what is really brewing beneath the surface. I don’t say this to alarm anyone– I know many have come to find some peace with what is to come. It is certainly hard to contain my anger when millions of unemployed and homeless are ignored and told by Congresscritters that they should get jobs at McDonald’s because the franchise will feed them on their lunchbreak. Not to mention with beef derived from disease-infested cattle farms, other cardboad deluctables and high fructose syrupy shakes and such.

 

Others refuse to see the signs, omens, warnings—they’ve found a peace in supporting a belief that is crumbling before our eyes. We are the new Rome with many more technologies and protections. Disintegration is impossible. Rome wasn’t built in a day and it won’t fall in a day either. Increments and stages. Frauds and deceptions. And we are here. Nursing our clinically ill chronocentrism even though it would rather pass peacefully into the dimension of futility. Our political pundits and state-financed historians rock and disparage the Soviets but we’ve inherited their inviolate stubborness. One day soon we may lie down to sleep and upon waking find a union dissolved into various regions, foreclosed by foreign creditors and international bankers. I am not predicting that it will happen. I am simply not dismissive of the possibility of its occurring—-many refuse to believe that it is possible. That is the problem with belief and that includes mine also. We swear an oath to a belief and began to concieve that it is indestructable. Facts arise that weaken the belief and we still cling to it. The clash of big money and cultural dynamics shift, trends boil all at once, and it’s still, “no, no, not us, not America.” The heat of real-time events come along and melt that ice cap away and millions of seals slip as they try to hold on to the disintegrating, dwindling mass.

 

The concept is to consider that there is a possibility that events will not turn out the way we expect them to. Military and nuclear power did not keep the Soviet block together. Just because we have all of our investments in an America rising from dust and ashes doesn’t legitimate its actual unfolding. We may well be in for a far worse ride; and watching the bobble of the stock numbers does not tell us anything. This is not a doomsday premonition—this is a fair interpretation of cross-sectional trends and dilemmas. And if that is the case than certain elements have every reason to keep you and me uncanny to this happening. They may not tell us that the steel girders have been removed from the building as not to induce the ultimate panic. There may be nothing of substance holding things up anymore, a worthless currency, a rotting, divided, political, education and healthcare system and a country who no longer owns its infrastructure. All of it has been put up for sale and collateral for the massive debts and remortgaged to prop up an unsustainable economic model. This you must see—because this is a reality that can’t be explained away in a financial column in the New York Times or the Washington Post. If you refuse to see it, sleep softly on your feathered pillows with dreams of sugar plums and sweet nothings. I don’t have to convince you. You will see it soon enough. And we will all be changed “in the twinkling of an eye.” We will all be awakened to what has really taken place right beneath our eyes as we went to school, worked, voted, attended peace gatherings and political rallies, or did nothing at all.

  

But if you do see it, or even perceive that things may not be as they appear, and there is a growing community of folks that do—than I welcome you–it is a difficult reality to accept. There are those pulling their money out of the banks, preparing, storing, growing their own food, getting away from the pulse of the city which would be hit the hardest in total meltdow. Not all of us have the convenience of picking up and moving to safe locations or building arks to weather the next deluge. But we do have an awakening sector of people who have plans of encouragement, ideas for preparing in whatever way you can, and supple words of edification, renewal and transformation. This is not an Armageddon lecture though some might see it as such. But we have to honestly identify the problem before we can act on it. All of these symptoms and flare ups are not the problem.

 

    

The problem is deeper, subtle and carries on buried in the collective subconscious; and that is the problem that humanity is a wounded people. Percival, in the Grail legend, had to get to the point of asking the question of the wounded Amfortas: “Uncle, what ails thee?” What is troubling humanity? Why is it so sick? Who or what has induced this sickness? It is easy to point to the politicians, the vulturous corporations and the usurious bankers. I have done much finger-pointing and guilt absolution in whipping my tongue in criticism. But they are not the cause. They are a part of the sickness. They are under the spell of traumatic forgetfulness like the rest of us. I could say that their sickness could be considered much more terminal as those who represent these systems rarely admit their faults and continue unashamedly into errors that cost millions of lives, that their psychopathy doesn’t allow them to search themselves and they have completely eradicated all remnants of humanity from their beings. But the truth is much more difficult to digest and that is as the poet Terence said, “nothing human is foreign to me.”

This program is all apart of the trauma that has twisted human experience into a confusing prism. The actions and behaviors exhibited are merely manifestations that are a result of a distorted image of humanity. Wilhelm Reich called it the “emotional plague”, that degenerative state has found us in nonstop wars and internecine battles, destroying ourselves and the earth. All of us in the 3D realm of existence are bound by this plague and hold the capacity to be “Christ-murderers.” Not murderers of messiahs and saviors; but murderers of the beautiful sensibility, hackers of the dreaming tree, shredders of the original divine fascimile. We have all been affected by the continuing trauma, catastrophe and crisis. It is not an environment that any of us of our own freewill would choose but this is where we find ourselves. And if we refuse to be honest about the real conditions of the world and what is responsible and the only desire is to quickly get back to a false sense of security and stability, we will only be here again in a short amount of time–and in all likelihood we may not be here at all, as this sickness will eventually lead us to completely demolish one another. I truly believe that because what I have witnessed in the greater mood of things is a large amount of people who want to retain the “belief set” that is continuing to reenact this calamity. The sickness can remain as long as some semblance of order is returned. Many friends who are only concerned about America remaining the supreme ruler of the world; peace and cooperation is ancillary and sometimes inimical to that desire. “We must secure America’s top dog spot no matter how many people have to be killed or defrauded for that to happen.”

No, they don’t come out and say this. But they don’t have to. And yes, I am filling in the blanks of what I perceive to be an unstated support of genocide and murder. Anyone of the belief that America must retain its top dog status is latently implying that the killing must go on. The killing of all sentient beings to feed our voracious appetites as we consume more than anyone else in the world and to fill our homes with decorations, appliances and technologies dependent on the resources of insignificant others. One friend says “well, it’s not our fault they don’t take advantage of their own resources or have the ability to do so.” Well, that line of thinking would give me the right to walk into any of my neighbor’s homes and deprive them of property and materials that they have not put to use. And few us believe we have that right on an individual level and would still not have that right even if half the neighborhood created an association and decided it was okay to deprive one of our neighbors. We refuse to see the crimes our country must commit to keep this global chess game in our favor. Crimes that, if there is universal readjustment, must be condemned. I don’t know that there is karmic law; I just heard that the general, Robert McNamara, who managed the genocide of 6 million Vietnamese, passed away peacefully in his sleep. The sobering truth is there is no human law that will right justice; the unacceptable fact is that we are all a “law unto ourselves.” The reckoning may not come from some global judicial tribunal—but it must be reckoned within ourselves.

A line of demarcation will be drawn between those who wish to keep alive the Darwinian ideas of territorial aggression of murder and mayhem and the accompanying Patriarchal program of oppression and slavery (of all kinds; not simply bodily but political, religious, economic, sexual, etc). On the otherside will be those who see this thing for what it is and are tired of accepting dollars soaked with blood and resources stolen from defenseless, anonymous others and living under the rubric of a political system designed with the purpose of using its citizens as a perpetual source of income to underwrite these atrocities. Those on the otherside of the border, and those in Indochina, the Middle East, Africa and South America are not separate from us no matter how many degrees, dollars and debutantes we try to stack between us and them. They are under the same spell as we are and in so many ways that are self-explanatory have gotten the worst part of the disease.

This is not about political gladiators and whose country will govern the world. This is about the healing of humanity and there is not much more that I can add to it than that. That is it. It is us. And the “us” does not include just we people with paper degrees, Wall St. jobs, luxury cars, laptops and video games. The “us” does not include you because you are liberal and your man is in the White House. The “us” does not just include you because you are “conservative” and only you can lead us back to the palace of constitutions and declarations. Those are your adopted ideologies which turn into your habituated operating systems. They play on the same schemes of forced imposition, power and coercion that are a part of the sickness and must be considered for what they really are and what they ultimately promote. They are inimical, not to “progress”, but to any kind of understanding, compassion or grace for those outside of ourselves. Praising these “belief sets” and putting them up as supreme among the infinite amount of thought, creativity and spiritual conductivity in humanity only supports the larger ones that are running roughshoud over the world, and sustaining the “Wasteland” of Grail mythology. As Tactitus observes: “they created a wasteland and called it peace.”

But….really….I fear so many folks have been duped by this agenda of divide and conquer that there is not much that can be done to change it. Call that a concession of hope—but I will admit my doubts about humanity’s ability while still believing that we are ripe for mass-scale transformation. It seems that securing our own plots is much more important than the dozen that have just died at a family wedding in Nangarhar or the group of children playing hopskotch in a Pakistani village just mutilated by drone attacks. Having access to 24/7 fast-food joints means much more to us than the serial and unnatural way that mound of beef is manufactured. We may know, at the deeper parts of ourselves, the parts we sometimes refuse to acknowledge or give any say-so, that something is not right, something is terribly whack in this schemata.

I believe that there is a speck of humanity left within us that won’t let us be deluded—-but that “protective” ego that comes into play tells us that it is all about securing our own piece but won’t tell us that in carrying out that agenda we become complicit in the larger egoist ambition that our country operates on—that we must secure our own piece, and deprive others of their piece to secure it. It is not easy to admit that we have no desire for real freedom, that instead we are the enemy. We who see the sickness and justify it because the assembly lines are still running and the government checks are still coming in. As I said, there may be no karmic court that will do us in, but we must face ourselves and that, in my opinion, is the worst judgment, even worse than the myth of a tryannical god sentencing us all to eternal hell. We can lie to gods and people but we cannot lie to ourselves. Of course we try, we fill our minds with every obstruction and defense of the “belief set” but it doesn’t work. The tyrannical sickness persists, depressions set in, addictions, neuroticisms, phobias galore. We may attempt to alleviate the torment by voting away our responsibility to others to rant and rave about how screwed up and cruel they are. “But it is never due to our inaction. It never could be.” I lay this criticism at my own feet too. I have done this. I am not absolved of complicity.

Attempting to outsource the responsibility to others makes for a reassuring personal script, at least temporarily. But it doesn’t in the long run. The imbalance of one number on the account log affects all subsequent charges. We must face that we are all sick and complicit in the continued sickness when we recognize it but turn our eyes away or support the very institutions and “belief sets” that allow for the sickness and the ultimate lie’s propagation. If we don’t and stand around passively, we will watch, just like the unquestioning Germans, as the country we call home is divided and auctioned off to the highest bidder. We can embrace the reality now or be forced to embrace it later when it will become much more uncomfortable to do so. And those questions that we might be refusing to give attention to, that seedling of doubt rearing up is a guardian from the innate part of our beings. It is here to assist. They are not lingering there to drive you to some Nietszche-esche madness. They are here to warn us that we have lost our curious and imaginative sensibility. It is a defensive mechanism inherent in all of us, an inner GPS device to alert us that we have migrated away from ourselves and we must return to the center. And that center is everywhere. It has no circumference. Wherever we are, under what ever insufferable conditions, the center is there.

Whatever trauma was brought upon humanity centuries ago I cannot say. I do know that in my lifetime humanity has been consistently traumatized with the global syllabus of a few-power-hungry men. It has been a methodical and careful plan of diversion, subversion, dissensitization, disinformation, miseducation often held up by military aggression, brutality and violence. Those of us who accept it as a “necessary evil” are every bit an accessory to the millions that have perished because of the myth. Children are always used as a tool by powermongers to grow more power so I hesitate to use them as an example—but in your own case, if your child was being abused and mistreated by an association, I would hope that you would not continue to support its abuses by financing or voting for it which are forms of passive consent; but it doesn’t just apply to the weakest among us–it applies to all of us.  Our actions can no longer be based on what is our “lawful” contribution, but instead on what is right. Because what is right does not always reconcile with what someone else has decided is lawful. We are all aware of pervasive, intrusive, right-violating laws but do nothing but sustain them when we comply. The prospect of persecution, imprisonment, unemployment, the sheen of an automatic weapon or the loss of “privileges” should not be the impetus for our actions in these times. These times are not calling for that—this zeitgeist is demanding your full attention and participation, not to uphold the existing pillars of patriarchy and military imperialism; but rather the cognition, absent of dissonance and dopplegangers, of who we are.

The “system” in place has scratched the dossier of our past and handed us a number to represent us in its place. The “system” is not the US government, the Bildergbergers, the Council on Foreign Relations, the Trilateral Commission, the Club Of Rome, the Committee of 300, The Vatican, CIA, Mossad or any of the hundreds of multi-faceted front groups vying for power and control. These are all mere vehicles to dispense the inimical “belief sets” that we have willingly adopted, some because we are ignorant, some because we didn’t know any better, some because we benefit from it and many of us because we are in agreement with the “belief set” because our education has stuffed our minds with false history. It has disseminated destructive memes and inculcated belief systems that support the subterfuge in its Archonic and demonic agenda. It comes from a long line of previous power blocks and empires that have destroyed and suppressed documents alluding to our true heritage, individual power and creative co-participation in the processes that regulate the earth and the universe. The sickness, the emotional plague, the archonic anomaly, the trauma has humanity in the vicegrip of psychogenic amnesia.

Wikipedia describes the symptoms of psychogenic fugue as:

“Dissociative fugue usually involves unplanned travel or wandering, and is sometimes accompanied by the establishment of a new identity….Fugues are usually precipitated by a stressful episode, and upon recovery there may be amnesia for the original stressor (Dissociative Amnesia).

This is where humanity has been, a deep sleep in the poppy fields, the super spell of Klingsor’s Wasteland. But the reassuring thing in all of this is that the fog is lifting, the veil is being raised; this is the true meaning of Apocalypse, the revelation of “that which already is.” There is mutiny in the ranks. The operation has hit a snag, millions of snags as the vertigo digresses and that quaint voice in the universal sphere says “return to me, ye children of men.” The telegenic spokesman is losing his power to dazzle. Truth is creeping up through the cracks. Brzezenski is complaining about a “global political awakening” that is obstructing the power-mongers age-old plans. CEO’s of large news corps are calling for the imprisonment of bloggers and citizen journalists. Why? Anyone who points to the holes in the agenda, or calls attention to the actual virus and not just its symptoms, are being threatened and the power structure is resorting to courts and military might to force adherence to dogma.

There is much they cannot contain, because it is not an “idea” whose time has come, but rather a process, a universal program that will not be put off by the petty fear tactics and manipulations of these sick people who choose to remain sick. The influx of scandal and the multiple, culminating problems may seem difficult to bear, but they contain within them an inverse blessing, a two-way mirror in which we see from both sides and understand the whole, and not just the part. Attached to us knowing the full spectrum is the awakening of who we are. We have forgotten that and have been wandering in this labryinth of disinfo while identifying with caricatures of who we are. The unveiling is the true death, the death of the lie, the smoke and mirrors, that have hidden us from our own true selves. The lie that we are powerless, eternally damaged, the lie that we must submit to widespread evil to live in peace. The universe has been sculpting the statue of David in the cover of darkness; the fog lifts and you will know, you will know.

The Loopy Universal Multiplex

Good theatre is compelling beyond the artificial stage props, ostentatious costumes and dramatic flare. Moving dialogue and a gripping plot can lead the mind to blend the fiction into the neural canvas and recreate an entire new reality. Audience members most entranced can even be led to feel as if they and the production are one and the same.

The tears cried become their tears, abuse suffered by the protagonists is felt vicariously, and audience members draw inferences between certain characters and their own lives. When the emotional pandora is uncapped, it does not matter whether the production was real or not. What matters is that the performance held such a semblance of reality that it somehow ties into our personal experience.

It may reaffirm our belief in infinite second chances and screwups are generally wedded to this idea. An impossible romance may awash our delusion that the good guy always loses. It may concretize the curious idea that government is virtuous and it is our mortal duty to serve its end. The narrative and plot is collected in the mind and compiled there as substance and fact. It does not have to be true, but it is not judged on its veracity. It is granted merit in proportion to its worth in substantiating our own beliefs.

If the plot calls into question our beliefs, we make haste to aggrandize its alleged weaknesses or put it off as an intrusive anamoly. Many have resigned the conspicious evils of the previous administration as such, and are content with that karmic rust stain imbuing the flag. “Oh, it was right-wing extremists, not the lefties, we must move forward.” If the plot reaffirms our beliefs, a Persian rug is rolled out and it is welcomed to the throne of our egocentricity. Any social program or telegenic speech can alleviate the tension between the crimes and so-called philanthropy of the violent compendium of players. “Oh, sure the lefties are upholding totalitarian decrees, but listen, the spokesman for the empire has never sounded so good!”

When it was written “All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players,” Shakespeare was not off. We are witnessing at present a production brought on by various powerbrokers, secret societies, banker coalitions, elitist clubs, thinktank groups, intelligence agencies and all of its complicit front orgs and ancillary committees. The object of their theatrical production is to convince you that you are free while at the same time monopolizing the right of force and robbing half of the world’s wealth. Venerating empty words such as “freedom” and “security” while ensuring that serfdom and perpetual debt will be the heritage of the world.

Multi-layered plots have intertwined with astonishing spectacle making the crimes of the production team forgivable. Genocide, economic warfare, and ecological destruction are sufficient collateral as long as the gravy train runs according to its set schedule. Sometimes the gravy train is behind schedule or it has to be reallocated for emergency war measures, making more bombs or overflowing the coffers of the already wealthy banker class. If ever the scene seems to be resolving to an end where the audience members would be dissatisfied by this heist, long monologues with seductive rhetoric is employed to plant the seed that deliverance is not far off, that the bureaucratic dinosaur will not face its own extinction, but the people will prevail! Waiting, always waiting.

Humanity’s servitude becomes more incandescent as days go by and billions are none the wiser. Elite groups who have long hidden their agendas of dystopian control have rolled them out with strobe light, necromancers and music. Signposts are there for people who set out on the aggravating path of self-discovery. To think anew, to hear the sounds emanating from multiple dimensions, to see through the thick wool that has been pulled over the eyes. To find that the production was like any Broadway musical or Disneyland funhouse. Nip-tuck has made appear adorable the contorted faces of reptilian specimens and carefully calculated costume switches have given the illusion of change, while the directors remain the same. They extend from a long lineage of self-professed illuminati. Former empires were mere dress rehearsals.

Unctions of this imbalance rise up in the gut like a harem of bats disturbed from their rest in the depths of the cave. An archaic instinct forebearing a dramatic shift in the scenery, a complete change of overtures in the soundtrack. The vampiric structure that even looks for blood in a stone, is on the edge of catabolic disintegration. Yet, “we the people” is a catchphrase to assure the frustrated and fed up that their grievances are documented while the “constitutional” professors and attorneys devise new schemes to shear the sheep without them putting up any formidable resistance. Culminating problems and legionious distractions render the majority helpless; and the overextended remnant and their nostalgia for liberty are viewed as an uncomfortable betrayal by those who have lost the way to themselves and look out to the Uniformity League to save them. How dare you oppose them when they are throwing crumbs called social welfare to disenfranchised groups! (Not to mention the millions they have maimed, murdered and wiped off the face of the earth forever at a price of maintaining those social programs)

Ignore it as you wish because the champagne is still bubbling; no one is required to hip themselves to the fact. You either allow the new vision to move from the edge of your periphery to the center of awareness or you don’t. Glimpses of truth are poking through the cracks of the debilitating structures that have imposed themselves upon the human spirit; that have lassoed it, wrestled it to the ground like a obstinate steer and hog-tied its legs.

With the sprinkling truth comes the growing assurance that waiting for salvation is a fool’s game. Expecting that political henchmen will break asunder draconian laws or that rapture will lift us away is to circle around the drain of an unquenchable hope. Hope is not to be found in conceding more ground and feeding an already carnivorous dependence on institutions that have empirically shown a disdain for human life or any function of the person that is not quantifiable or measurable. That humankind has been reduced to a mechanistic component for computations of algorithms and equations to determine his value would be an amusing farce, if it wasn’t so categorically true.

Those who are able, rot away in a Corporate slave labor camp designed to break wills, curtail free thinking and disband spiritual conductivity. The Corporation has arranged its rules to outlaw expression of the vital human energy and to ensure that depression and anxiety are the result because these negative, low-level frequencies also feed the machine. Astonishingly many, even those who express a visible agitation, are afraid of the alternative, to play with the idea that there could be a more viable schemata to the decaying imperialistic pattern in use for the past two centuries.

They walk forlornly through this house of living horrors knowing that the eviction notice has been nailed to the door and ultimate foreclosure is on the way. The cancer of exceptionalism gnaws at the curiosity of how this thing will last. What is practiced is the same arrogance of all fallen empires from the Babylonians, the Macedonians, the Egyptians, Romans, Soviets, etc. Chronocentrism and access to new technologies affirms the belief that we are beyond collapse. Others watch with a bit more incredulity at the attempts to pump life into the nature of something that has been necrophilous since its inception. With the unsustainable system weakening by the weights of its atrocities, the breath of life is being replenished in those who had forsaken it for the molding gifts of the institution. The theatrical displays of fancy and folly no longer  inspire them. The chambers are stuffy and humid and stepping outside is the clearest path to assuaging the suffocation.

The aromatic fragrance of new life is not welcome in a place fueled by dead energies and necrotic filth. Throwing the windows of the soul open to aerate the toxic past of self-defeat and fear, the foul Gremlins of the camp amplify their attacks. Chemtrails in the air, poisons in the water, genetic microbes in our foods and vile propaganda from the airwaves. And war, always war. Sickening and assaulting all who give them audience with grossness, smut and decadence. Pornography of all kind; media porn, political porn, Hollywood porn, war porn, new world order porn.

Minds open to new creation, it is easier to filter the foulness designed to siphon your brain matter. The high heavens stench can only survive in the heart and mind that is closed; it persists in the psyche that refuses to recognize evil as such but constructs dismissive euphemisms to lessen its vitriolic stain on the collective conscience of humankind. Keep the windows open and the fresh vision twitters in and out, removing, at least from the personal environment, the miasma of the materialistic “thousand things” culture and the dangerous ideologies that profit from a general social disconent with not having quite enough. Let the quintessence come and go. Do not try to capture it and docket it in a memorabilia album. Let it flow through as if you are a human tuning fork, the uneccessary tones dying out and left resonating is the harmonic concierta of balanced frequency.

The sharpest of instruments go dull and fall out of tune from time to time. The active, non-stop theatre, with its cheap thrills and cotton candy, is designed to alter sound vibration and to constrict it to a low-level operation. Everyday, as long as we remain audience members in the theatre, our own Project Bluebeam is carried out moment to moment. Holographic representations are misperceived in the mind because we are obsessively loyal to the Directors of the play even though they stand off in the distance aloof and above reproach. The results are disruptions in our etheric self from a theatre that knows only how to produce fear and melodrama. Tell the directors that reliance on fear and terror as object fetishes only exacerbates the problem, and they clasp their hands in excitement. “Yes! Yes! The people must know that they need us and the only way they can know is if we parade ghouls and goblins everyday!”

Unbeknownest to many of us, this content is stored in our unconscious and affects our operating system. Its virality is not known until it expresses itself in abnormally psychotic ways. Conveniently, the salesmen of the empire have an assembly line of concoctions and prescriptions to treat our every symptom. And if pills and drugs don’t do the work, there are trinkets upon trinkets to make us feel better about the constant tampering and altering of the “space show” in our daily lives. The paper machete characters streaming across the chatterbox tell us so. Focused on brain stunted celebrities and vacuous trivia, they drop endless confetti and banality, carpet bombing the world with horseshit. Prohibiting spiritual escapism from the clutches of the monolithic conspiracy.

Longing to escape this reoccuring reel is easy for some; they have a spark of light and follow it diligently. Others are torn by a vicious cycle of nightmarish addiction and withdrawal. Delving for deeper cognition, gathering reconaissance, seeking out higher gnosis, one cannot help getting sidetracked in the bowels of the beast. Decorated in magnificent garb, faced painted like Jezebel, the majestic array hypnotizes any who gives it attention, in spite of its putrid smell.

Scenes are repeated, recycled and retuned. The stagecraft is astounding, state of the art, noir, tour de force. Before we know it the bacteria in the beast collects on us like skin flakes. The smoke, fog machines and dust of the theatre cake. Mining for gold in a sea of cadavers and feces, we will come up covered in gunk. Evidence of this psychological operation is all around us, conducted with sounds of silence; silent weapons for quiet wars. Many in the chronic stages of their manchurian programming refuse to see the signs. No amount of facts, documentation or corrobative sources will sway them. “Truth” only applies if it is “their guy” saying it.

Arguing with people who refuse to examine their own paradigms is futile and we must relinquish ourselves of any messianic ambitions to “wake them up.” Extrasensory perception is needed to diffuse the lie, and as each person resonates according to their own level of current light, it is a leap they must take for themselves. Cease force, fear, coercion and debate. These are tactics of the Uniformity League and we must guard ourselves from adopting similar ones, even if the stupidity and foolishness is ultra tempting. We know that there is a clear agenda to massacre consciousness or at best, an attempt to constrain it. But the nature of the system will not be changed through direct confrontation. Like an experienced spy agent, it will change its story while stroking the coals of its insolence behind its remorseful eyes. Questioning its motives is to disrupt its function, while it may use torture, rendition and its favorite tactic, war, to force acceptable answers and concessions.

A delicate balance can be struck. Too much attention given to the pathological theatre outside of ourselves lead to emotional identification with the very messages we seek to dissect and diffuse. With the initial emotional investment, ownership is assumed over these substratum messages. With the assumed liability we tend to obsess over what we feel is our property and our unconscious catalogues the inundated commentary. Like any kind of investment, as long as we continue to give it value, it will appreciate within us.

Before long, a petty matrix viral attack becomes an unencumbered disease within. The result is a cacaphony of phobias and paranoia. The road to insanity is sure. Deleverage and rid ourselves of such “toxic assets.” These are not our messages, we did not create them, nor should be continue to give them value. Holding them hostage in our mind because we feel that we have to know every little detail about the game will eventually bankrupt us. Useless distractions of Aristolean comparison and analytics trap us to the two-dimensional rationalistic plane futilely looking for the ultimate answer. The infinite traveler must never settle into a consensus. Accept momentary truth but realize that truth is not static. Yesterday’s truth is burned in the inferno of new experience. Be open to the next dash of lightning across the sky of consciousness.

Moving away from the science of disinformation and propaganda and returning to ourselves is the true revolution. Disinformation is used to short-circuit the mind. Messages meant to lure the masses into a “waking sleep” will cause us to doze off if we swallow too many of its proscriptions. Lies, deceptions and propaganda are low-level energy frequencies. Low-level does not mean it has no power. On the contrary, this level of sorcery and darkness is strong if enough people are constantly kept on this plane of biosurvival fear and anxiety.

The more who move out of this plane, and there are billions that are stuck here, the less negative energy is at the disposal of the practitioners of universal control and uniformitarianism. Trying to track them all we remain in the dungeon of stupidity and inhibition. Entangled by the snares of this “brain-freeze” program, we are sure to be overwhelmed, heavy-hearted and easily misled. We become the sheep led to our own slaughter. Rebel against the desire to follow the folly. Rebel against ourselves. Daily.

Trained for servitude and conditioned to resist truth, there is a defensive armoring mechanism activated when we attempt a perceptual field shift. Cognitive cross-fade is difficult with deeply embedded memes, pesky little devils they are, telling us how the world should be. Most of these memes are not there by choice or free will. They were implanted there when we were young, easily trusting and most defenseless. Oppressive religions and prejudices, the hand-me downs of static brained parents or tutors.

The ruling modalities loathe change and deconstruction. Lies that have served unencumbered tenures will not give up their seats humbly. Sanctioned curriculum will fight tooth and nail against unstandardized infiltration. Our mind, fear its ruling ambassador, has accepted every meme that helps to fit us into the social equation. Difficult ideas and shell-shocking revelation are granted no privileges in this circus of conformity. Eccentricity wiles away inside like a contestant with an expired “golden ticket” waiting for his number to be called. The matrix outside ourselves is surely perfidious. But it is the matrix inside of us that is far more byzantine and instransigent. The cavernous world therein must be explored. “Know thyself,” not as we wish it to be, but as it is, and then it will be.

What would all the hoopla of a brave new world be worth if we are unwilling to induce the change that allows us to approach it clear and ready? We would be better off sleeping through the storm if in the aftermath the same oppressive myths remain to snake charm us into senseless conflict with ourselves. Rail as I may at the tragedy of a Darwinian social consensus that encourages collectivized cannabalism. Systems and ideologies be damned; they are not in need of breakdown.

It is the wrong system to focus on! It is not real! It is a concept, a fleeting ideal! It is battery-powered by you and I. We are in the need of the breakdown. All the forts we have put up to keep us out of the most subtle parts of our beings must be demolished. Outsourcing responsibility to entities foreign to the human experience in hopes of dramatic shift will find us wallowing away like the colonial slaves who “prayed” that freedom would find them. Prayer is like the expression “knowing is half the battle.” Our souls can intercede and collage with the uninhibited universal consciousness but the yoga of action is thus called. Don’t expect that the slave master will release you by his own volition.

We have damned ourselves if we refuse to be receptive to the moment, when we reject love and its parallel expansion, and when we operate by the fear incentive. The body, weakened by the refusal to uplift, is the perfect breeding ground, like cattle farms, for disease and psychotropic delusions. Congested by self-ignorance and willful denial, the sense that humanity deserves its suffering is lifted up as social dogma. The suffering encodes us with deeper insecurities, fears, phobias, and psychic ailments. Not recognizing the source of the disorder, and following errant diagnostics, it is easy to jump on the bandwagon of the medicine man offering the best cure, to give us all the recognition we need to feel alive or paying alms to secure our path to heaven.

The medicine man has a product and he must sell it. He is a merchant before he is a healer; and that is how the disease is sustained. It is far more lucrative for the medicine man to keep us in a state of crisis so that he can sell more of his product. Dependency on the stimulus to help us function perpetuates the cycle. Give no license to this usurious game being played in the temple of humanity and no second thought to the swine who come up with all kinds of studies to justify the exploitation of human health and the lie that we are cursed and incorrigible.

Do not seek the cure or mine for gold outside of yourself. The slight of the magician’s hand turns you away from the true issuance of your dilemma. It does not originate from outside of us, or from the system, nor its henchmen. No problem exists apart from the mind and going back to the source, we see that there is only one suitable measurement stick for value. There is one gold standard and it is you. Your Rapture is now. Eternity is now. Focusing it in the distant future or waiting for Messiah we miss the point entirely.

Moving from the base camp, do we not return? Or is life a ceaseles, listless tormented wandering? Or we engulfed in never-ending ontological paradox, unable to exit the wheel of suffering? As we plot the evolution of consciousness, we are convinced that infinitum is some distance out. But it is not. Our mind is a mobius strip dashing through a spiraling figure-eight dimension of growing complexity and inverse simplicity. The scenery of the universe does not change as the eternal is immutable. It is we who change and it seems all the more grand as we go into every room of the universal mansion, open the windows and let the breeze flow in. We have found our Narnia, the secret passage in an otherwise banal existence that opens up to the greater wonder of life.

T.S Eliot writes in his beautiful poem Four Quartets: “We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.” Back at the entry point, we may not recognize it as the door we entered before. There are millions of marvelous doors and each time our path is renewed we approach the door differently. A small slit in creation that upon entering takes on a grand escapade up and down the mountains of motion and electricity. It is the eye of the needle; a place where politics, caste, hermetics, riches and disinformation cannot enter. All things that separate from every other energy and function of the universe must be left at the this door.

Power structures standing between us and the “eternal now” are arbitrary. It is okay to reject them if they seek to ruin your own process; do not put the social process over the inner process. This is not say that greater society has no import. It is only meant to communicate that we cannot understand our relativity to all else until we understand ourselves at the most discreet level. The more we rely on the five-sensory realm, eroded by disinformation and propaganda, the more we will see ignorance, division and violence as a cherished card in the deck. It will always hold the Royal Flush. And North Koreas, Irans, Russias, Talibans, Al Qaedas, Hamas and endless enemies will be instigated and created to live out this misperceived division.

That social game puts us in an advanced stage of the strange loops matrix as we adopt all the manipulative tactics and competive schemes needed to participate in the orgy of dominance and acquisition. Wandering away from our source everything we acquire is used as a wall to divide us from the next man or woman over. We acquire so much and like to have it so that we forget from whence we emanated from. Our identity hidden behind a veil of ignorance, we see social position and prestige as something of value. The more we accelerate the more walls we put up. But the paradox is that no matter how far we go up and down in the hierarchical system, we wil always end up at the starting point. The feedback loop is one that is resisted like mother’s spoon of cough syrup, but it cannot be avoided. In some ways, the universe is rigged.

Each of us are at a different point along the mobious strip and the hierarchical planes of the strange loop. Acknowledge that the “others” share a common thread. Assuming egoic pomposity and messianic postures don’t much matter when we all must return to the door at “closing time.” We know that energy is not destroyed, only converted. That water is in continuous cycle from clouds to earth and ocean, flowing into rivers, creeks, channels, evaporation and back into the clouds again. Portions of the burning wood is reduced to ashes and other elements float into the air. The same cycle applies to us. Each life in existence is the universe breathing in and breathing out. It is an unavoidable process. Doing all we can to effect the outcome, we can’t. We recognize all parts of humanity as parts of us. In some way we have helped create it. We all return to zero point regardless of resistance.

And yet, none of us know for sure. We hear hoof beats galloping in the distance. We have heiroglyphs from ancient history, maps, calendars, theories and musical notations. We consume information, vivisect it, and at some point we have to discard the rules and live. Having entered the state of learning by form, we must exit from form. The reference materials and dead letters no longer dictate how we shall live. Returning to the root of the root of our souls, reconnecting with the source. Recognizing in the pattern inscribed in ourselves a pattern that complements the entire holographic universe. Inner galaxies and solar systems, circuits and cycles shifting on their axis, and reversing the negative polarity. Disinformation theatre and stagecraft no longer hold sway over the production. Windows open in the etheric multi-dimensional framework of the universe, we discover that we are not separate from the rest, but a piece of us is contained in all positions and characters of the Loopy Universal Multiplex.

100% Humanity

100% Humanity

In one of Aesop’s fables a woodsman heads into the forest to find a handle for his axe head. The woodsman comes into a gathering of trees and informs them of his need. The most senior trees bend in together and conspire against the smaller trees surrounding them. Assuming authority over the weaker trees, and without their consent, they devise a plot to give away an Ash tree. The older trees inform the woodsman that he is free to take the Ash tree to carve his axe handle as long as they are spared. The self-appointed ruling trees suspecting they have gotten over on the smaller trees, congratulate themselves. Their celebration is short-lived. The woodsman soon returns with his newly affixed axe. He does not limit his hackery to the Ash trees; he cuts down the Oaks, the Redwoods and all the other grand trees that were spared before.

This is a frightenting parable about the dangers of conceding even a smidgin of power. Putting limited power in the hands of those with shifting motives is the undoing of us later on. We may weaponize an enemy or a government as an ad hoc safeguard but it is only a matter of time and necessity- and those same guns are turned to us. A criminal who has exceeded the bounds of natural law and gets away with it, doesn’t retire thereafter. His thirst becomes more coarse, more fiendish and so he must expand his operation. The little pieces of jewelry and chump change he might fleece from the armless pedestrian no longer satisfy him. He sets his sights higher, to larger bales of money, more expensive property, and the infinite reaches of power.

When we accept one infringement upon ourselves, the demons we give room to take notice. They jot down in memory that we do not put up a fight, nor ask for clarification of why we must abandon our own staff, that we content ourselves with further defacement if the ignis fatuus of protection is compelled. They, rabid and bloodlustful for total dominion, will reduce us to complete peonage. We will be caught in the crossfire of the tactics used to fend off the purported enemy; the fence elevated to keep the enemy out likewise keeps us in. And therein, we discover our protectors will be the chief violater of our rights through legislated pillage and plunder while promising to secure our rights against those invisible enemies out there, who are frequently inured, but rarely, if ever, seen.

Yet, the error is not them; the error resides with us. We willingly put our heads on the chopping block. Unlike the trees in Aesop’s fable, mere inanimate objects, we have freedom of mind and mobility. Yet, we voluntarily walk into the dungeon and restrain ourselves with the fetters on the wall. The Uniformity League has created the most deceptively wonderful labor camp. The Soviets called it the gulag. We call it America. A place where symbols, statues, icons and brands fuse and become our identities. It is wrought with glamor and spectacle; where we have “the most of everything but the best of nothing” as John Keats wrote. More mystique than ancient Greece, more crushing than the Roman empire, and an octupus of political clout and corporate dominance that places septic tanks in any terrority it dislikes. Or any country that defies its wishes. We view it as irrevocable. It has all the trappings of a real society, seemingly favorable to human beings. Never do we once look behind the scenes, to figure out who the real players are, what the real intent is, and why it is the way it is. We are shy to ask the guardians standing stoically at their posts, what they are really protecting, whether us or the rulers.

But the axe is in its hand, so we dare not question for a few moments of amnesty. If the thing is yelling out “FEED ME SEYMOUR!”, we’ll quickly grab others and throw them to the beast so long as the beast is not snapping at us. The salivating sharp teeth or the glistening, oiled axe appears an indomitable foe. Like the man dragged into the prison or the court we are presented a crushing anxiety. Instead of understanding the true nature and cause, we cry for immediate release. The broken man or woman will sign their names anywhere and for any reason to get back to the comfortable outside, not understanding like Henry David Thoreau did so well in his essay Civil Disobedience:

“I saw that, if there was a wall of stone between me and my townsmen, there was a still more difficult one to climb or break through before they could get to be as free as I was. I did not for a moment feel confined, and the walls seemed a great waste of stone and mortar.”

The frightened individual sees freedom as a circumstance of the body and not a condition of the mind. He never knows or understands the contract that he or she has entered into. He equates physical freedom with mental easement. The temporary escape has only postponed the reckoning.

That is where many in the world find themselves. Trapped in a cell of our own making. We are afraid of a brief calamity and forget who we are. Only our ego exists in times of trouble. Guide us it will into hasty and detrimental scenarios. We will grant jurisdiction to anyone who gives us a justification for not thinking. Our power is thrown at the feet of those who appear to have bona fide authority. Fuck the vetting and screening process. Afraid to face the pervasive matrix constructed around us, terrifed of the ledge and depths we might fall, we go right into the hands of Agent Smith.

Disaster reduces us to infants and toddlers. The marauders are there with their pacifiers. A little suckling and the trepidation ceases. The benefit received is inferior to self-sufficiency. Accepting the pacifier we at the same time revoke our own authority. Consoled by a temporary relief, we can carry on the simulation of being a whole person. But we are not whole anymore. We are a fraction of the sum of ourselves. A limb has been severed from our body. The phantom arm or leg seems to be there but it is not. Upon acceptance of the temporary security, a portion of who we are was confiscated. Freely given, it can not be freely returned.

Our protectors will not vacate their superior position. There will be no equal footing or level playing ground if they have their way. The game remains rigged and the table tilted. As an infant in need of pampering, we no longer have the status to conduct our own business. Crawl, if you will, but under no circumstance, can we walk or run. Stay inside our little fence with nonstop amusements to distract us from our pathetic predicament. We are serfs in a land intoxicated with the beverages of liberty. A feudalist system has been set up under the guise of representative democracy. Our conscription into serfdom is done without full disclosure. With invocation to the feudal lords for a bit of safety we relinquish all claims to ourselves. Simultaneously, we pledge our allegiance to those set up as our temporary liberators. You have no right to criticize the breadwinners. You’ve joined the corporation for this particular benefit. Caught in a storm of codependency, we can never be free and we lie to ourselves to even suggest that we are. We make excuses for the dysfunction and evil of the tyrants that rule us. Hampering recovery. Perpetuating the cycle of evil. Refusing to cut the umbilical cord.

“Freedom is the last thing he wants. He functions, as we shall see, according to the principle of pleasure in non freedom. To be sentenced to life long freedom is a worse fate then life long slavery. To put it another way: a man is always searching for someone or something to enslave him, for only as a slave does he feel secure –and as a rule his choice falls on a woman. Who or what is this creature who is responsible for his lowly existence and who moreover, exploits him in such a way that he only feels safe as her slave, and her slave alone?” – Esther Vilar (The Manipulated Man)

You do not have to acknowledge that you have been reduced. It is not an easy task to admit our illegitimacy. We know that the gods we genuflect before have murdered millions. Anything that we can do to keep their horrid machines devouring innocent others rather than us, we will do. We will sign our children away as collateral and cut our paychecks in half. America is full of wage slaves. A few are allowed to rise as the cream of the crop to keep the rest of us motivated by the dream. There is not enough money in circulation for everyone to be King of the Hill. So little hamsters pant and sweat in the wheel of samsara. Overwhelming amounts of our income is confiscated through copious taxation and inflation. Little benefit is derived from this simulcra of supposed mutual reciprocity; in fact, so many secretly loathe this politically sanctioned piracy that it is shocking that there has not been outright revolution. But a prince or princess reduced from royalty does not lightly regain their kingship. If it is sold for a pot of lentils, the reclamation will be an arduous, frustrating feat.

Difficulty is not due to the terror of the Uniformity League or its legions of sophisticated weaponry and laws that stifle and demand obedience. The difficulty is that we do not know who we are. We have been turned towards destruction, and unable to bear much reality, we sabotage ourselves with more destruction. Jolting psychogenic fugues materialize into thick fog.  It is, in effect our personal Dark Age, a period of gut-wrenching persecution we must overcome. We have operated for so long in a reduced capacity. Trying to operate the whole of ourselves we will be frightened at the cogency of that forgotten power. It does not feel realistic, we do not feel capable. Too much tork in the engine. Assuring ourselves is always preceded by a restless deliberation. The first signs of resistance and we go whimpering back to our corners. Like Pavlov’s dogs, the social scientists know they only need to increase the charge and we will wet ourselves in petrification.

But, my friends, we must chip away at the rusting shackles. Become aware of all the ways we have contracted away our individual sovereignty. None of us deserve to operate at a percentage of our capacity. That we have a disproportionate number of people in the world in the lower percentile doesn’t bode well for us. Conundrums galore. How will a world of the mentally handicapped and the spiritually immature overcome? On the surface, it is a daunting enterprise. Fortunately, our power does not rely in that which is behind or before us; but that which is in us. Inklings of the inner strength come to the surface like affable dolphins. The phenenoma is so unusual we write it off as a fluke. Writing if off does not rebuke it into nonexistence. It cannot leave us. It is an innate part of our being. Unconditional and uncritical, it stands by us in times of conscious stupidity and grave peril.

Like Dorothy’s dog Toto in the Wizard Of Oz. The name Toto was derived from the legal expression “in toto.” It’s etymology forms the word “total.” It means complete, full, whole. The wretched county administrator threatened to take Dorothy’s dog, accusing it of snapping at a local resident. Indignant that she is being riled by such a spiteful old hag, Dorothy pulls her dog close to herself.  Later, as she wandered through the land of Oz, the wicked witch pursued her: “I’ll get you and your little dog, too!” she screeched.

Idle threat. Empty rhetoric. At best, we are convinced that we lack wholeness but it can never be taken away from us. Even if it seems that we’ve made that transaction, it is an invalid commercial contract. Terms and conditions are unlawful, fraudulent.  Effecting the propaganda a giant forgery is erected. We wander from place to place, there are others like us; braindead, heartless, cowardly. Convinced that the problem is outside of ourselves, we search outside of ourselves for a cure. Snake oil salesmen and tea leaf readers appear as our saviors; we license them to soothe our fears. The imitation deprives us of the unfathomable mystery. Our wholeness never leaves nor forsakes us. It is there for our redemption when and if we see fit.

The engine, after seasons of latency, will be rough and shaky at first. Seemingly uncontrollable and zigzagging off the road. Keep our hands on the wheel and keep “toto” close. A world with everyone operating at 100% is surely preferrable to a feudal system that necessitates the majority to a perpetual serfdom. Those who think that kind of poverty is an inevitable byproduct are the real Elders of Zion. You are the descendants of Tories appointed to sustain the aristocratic status quo. Come out of her, my people, so that you will not participate in her plagues. Put flames to the documents of slavery, pull down the pillars of the systems of cruelty, and break asunder the philosophy that enforces the benefits of the reduced human being.

Institutions and empires are mirages. They only exist in the attention we give them. It only took Dorothy recalling her real home for the matrix of Oz to disappear. The lesson is that we have to get back to ourselves. The Occult practitioners and the mind control experts are losing their grip. The witch, even as she is shriveling into ash, is still spitting vitriol about how small we are. Do not make agreement with that counterfeit message. Do not fall into the trap that we cannot live without the petty, laborous system others have set up to use us a source for perpetual revenue.

Trading our aliveness for the system’s inferior benefits is the true source of evil. Offering ourselves to it, we keep it functioning with our negative energies. Sad is the state of the world when so many are toiling for an anti-human system and they know that it is wrong. This is the one true cardinal sin; the sin of denying ourselves. It is what Wilhelm Reich referred to as the “emotional plague” permeating this culture. It’s intent is the defamation of all that we are; and when it has broken us, to seduce us into its vampiric orgy of madness. To suck out our lifeblood. To rupture our self. To trap us into a Dewey Decimal system where we are all numbered and catalogued. You are not a number. You are whole. You are 100%. Anything less than that, would be uncivilized. As it has been.

The Inner Conspiracy

The Inner Conspiracy

 

You’ve been had. It’s the biggest secret out there. It is the root conspiracy from which all other conspiracy stems. Move over JFK assassination. Hasta la vista Roswell and Area 51. Time is up 9/11. You are the one whose number is incessantly called, the gig that takes all the marbles, the apple in the eye of the marauders. You remain the source of the black operations’ envy, a plot more intriguing than Camelot, Opus Dei or the KGB. The boots of the Emperor have stormed through more cavernous passageways than the Templar Knights to find you. It is the unsettling rumor running through the castle, the chains rattling at the gates, the large stone in the path that gives the four horses of the Apocalypse pause.

The Rothschilds, Rockefellers, Vanderbilts and Bushes are but silly little figurines next to this omnipresent force. A global snuff drama has unfolded for centuries to keep you from realizing the root cause; ancient parchments burned, shamanic priesthoods pushed into the deepest trenches of the forest, tribal communities disbanded, the work of the Mayans destroyed at the behest of the Inquisition, the gnostic gospels regulated to a footnote in history. Authors, philosophers, poets and ascended ones falsely accused, tortured, imprisoned and put to death: Socrates, Boethius, Jesus, Galileo, Giordano Bruno, Mikhail Bakunin, Immanuel Velikovsky, Ezra Pound, Wilhelm Reich, John Lennon and the many unnotable millions that were confident enough to oppose tyranny.

The conspiracy has been you, us, all along- in fact, it originates from us.

There are those who consider that there might be dark forces arrayed against humanity absurd, some science fiction dystopia better suited for Hollywood and the Wachowski brothers. My oh my, how they’ve pulled the wool over our eyes. Among us walk those all too certain that the architecture of civilization, in spite of a few dents and scratches, is the paragon of virtue. Maybe it is. I doubt nothing and deny everything. I can only bear witness to what I myself have seen with my own eyes and sometimes rely on intuition. I admit sometimes the search gets the better of me.

There may be errant notions, false premises, misfires, and failed prophecies; I’ve been known to shoot from the waist sometimes. Fortunately it turns out that the thing that I thought I saw was just a bit of chicanery left over from yesterday’s nightmare and I caused no injury to anyone. I’ve only realized the stupidity in carrying beliefs. Beliefs become fizzing sticks of dynamite in our hand if we hold them long enough without checking the nitroglycerin. But should someone forsake his reason because it misleads him here and there? I offer a resounding no. One of those old boring writers in the 18th Century, John Stuart Mill, wrote in On Liberty “No man can be a great thinker who does not recognize that as a thinker it is his first duty to follow his intellect to whatever conclusions it may lead. Truth gains more even by the errors of one who, with due study and preparation, thinks for himself, than by the true opinions of those who hold them because they do not suffer themselves to think.”

It is easy to conclude that conspiracy is of no import and that it is the domain of the paranoid. It is not. It has its place, its time, and its days. The people who play this little name game pull this out like the Wild Card as if it’s supposed to make a man with a suspicion shrivel up. If you’ve got a hangup with farout ravings and psychedelic madlib, you might want to check your signals. A little peek in the annals of time will show that history has been on the side of the shunned voice crying out in the wilderness. Of course, the lunatics risked life and limb to assert what they believed to be truth. And most of them weren’t standing out in the plaza or the Speaker’s Circle richocheting their critical ideas off any curious pedestrian that might pass. They were simply attempting to live their lives and the power of truth was that it attracted the mystified. And once enough folk got wind of this new, hip idea, the local authorities felt a bit threatened. You’ve seen enough of history. You know how the story ends.

Throughout history the greatest revelations were considered, at first, conspiracies in the mouth of the single individual, who was transformed, and could not contain his or her silence. Something beyond the judgment of men and women protecting the paradigm compelled them. Those who feel that they are saving society from hyperactive fairytales of the “delusional” are most likely suffering a more terminal illness: intellectual stagnancy, servility to all that is claimed as the unwavering social protocol. Sometimes they conceal a contempuous, if not blatant hatred of those who have challenged the comfortable myths. That everything is how it is supposed to be. Civilization is to remain undisturbed. Even with its malfunctions, these are only natural ebbs and flows of the process, the evil property of a few unrestrained and avaricious cretins- but never, never could this be the true nature of it. And never question its merit or worth. It has sanction to do as it pleases. Just like the thousands of other dynasties whose treasures are buried beneath the earth along with their exceptionalism.

The delusion that the merchants, salesmen and saleswomen of the empire expect me to buy is that the true nature of it is pure as a God’s nectar. I just can’t buy it and so I’ve created a conspiracy just by reason of not believing the charade. Just go along, they plead, why do you have to be so difficult? Riiiiiiight. If I just go on throwing back the potent glasses of corporatism and capitalism maybe these wiseguys will get it right, through trial and error, or reassigning a few game pieces on the chessboard. The basis for the immunity given to the Uniformity League is that they’ve doctored the most sacred legal document for a humane, ethical and free society: The Constitution.

This is a document, that amazedly was proffered by the pens of those who conspired to enslave others while they hypocritically wrote of life and liberty. Another conspiracy. Well this grand experiment, if I was a betting man, has done far more damage than good. Conspiracy. All the outward ways in which we seem to be free can be offered as evidence to my wrongness. Very well. I happen to believe that there is a freedom that supersedes the illusion. You have no title to yourself. Conspiracy. You do not own yourself. Conspiracy. You are pieces of goods drifting at sea. Conspiracy. You don’t lawfully own your property, your house or your car. Conspiracy. The shining city on the hill has managed to convince you that you are free while at every point along the way you have unwittingly sold your birthright. Conspiracy. This is maritime. This is admiralty. A bill of lading is floating through the system, appreciating value. The document identifies your powerlessness. And because it floats in a system of abstraction, how do you rebut that presumption? Particularly, this is of relevance, when an unrebutted presumption stands as truth in commerce. How do you know that you have self-ownership? Dorothy? Dorothy? Don’t be afraid to expose the Wizard. In the Age of Revealing, this will be your true duty. Resist, if you will. It will only make the revelation harder to handle.

Of this, I am so absolutely certain. And it is this that I wish for my friends, who may be forbidding themselves to entertain doubt, to understand. You don’t have to. Write me off as a quack. Call me weird and eccentric. We can wait for the next bang, hope for the next best train, pressure the weakest link with our emotional petitions or try to roar loud enough that the Uniformity League might hear us between the two blocks of riot gear clad enforcement officers separating us from them. That is when we know something is screwy with society. When those who feel they’ve been afflicted are motivated to action, and met with the brute force of the State, and those who’ve played the game safe laugh and find a bit of pleasure in their misfortune, we can confidently say that democracy is truly a hideous competition for which side can be the House slave and which side will be forced out into the yard.

The House slave, feeling that he has the Master’s favor gloats from the window while his fellow slave is whipped in the yard. He knows he could very well be thrown back out to the yard, that his fortune could change in a blink, so he must relish this time in the Master’s good graces. But of course these sneering Cheshires would never be principled enough to break a law they know is unjust to defend their fellow slave or speak a greivance they know is unpopular unless they had full assurety they would not put themselves in harm’s way. These are the folks that would, like Isaac’s sons, sale their brother into foreign slavery to secure their own place at the table. That is democracy folks, two groups of slaves fighting over who gets the cot in the Master’s anteroom.

It seems to make no sense in addressing the fact, especially to those who have long ignored it or who sit inside with their “America is Great” t-shirts smarmy and smirking at the dissidents outside the gate. They charge the fumed and fed up with being ungrateful, the angry with treason and sedition and the revolutionary with heresy. Conspiracy. They remind me of the pompous fat cat in the story of Cinderella, high and mighty with its few privileges, even if the master of the house is a spiteful, haggard, old wretched witch. Those benefits and privileges, are they worth it? How does it feel to firesale our souls for a bit of protection? And if these benefits and privileges are so indispensable to our value as people, what can that possibly mean? That we are only associated with a government for the convenience of a few benefits, which without, based on our own personal principle, we may well disassociate ourselves, what are we unconsciously teaching each other? That prostitution is our Bar Mitzvah to participate in society; as long we’re doing all the little tricks and flicks, we get a free pass. Without those benefits and privileges, the ability to devise any ethical defense for this government are slim to none. I would say none.

Benefits aside, I have noticed the pattern, that if the government has called itself a plow, it does not perform like a plow as one critic explained. If it’s an oxen, it doesn’t serve like an oxen. Conspiracy. And if the benefits were completely expunged from its programs, its modus operandi is unequivocally along the lines of Hannibal Lector. Conspiracy. The non-entity “government,” the inanimate conceptual word, has taken on the worst of human attributes but with the penetrating, keen extrapolation of Hannibal Lector. Conspiracy. You may well understand its evil and been witness to it, but Hannibal Lector knows you much better than you could ever understand him. Conspiracy. His understanding of human psychology and group behavior ensures that he knows all the ways to turn us on, turn us over and give us the prison shower treatment before mutilating our sense of wonder, astonishment and connection with the natural world. Conspiracy. That which is being mutilated compels us, nags at us, to go, to jettison where the wireless towers have no radars, where the telescreeens don’t preen their Two Minutes Hate every hour of every day, where their rancorous rules and empty verbiage don’t care to go.

“In the cybernetic age, the individual becomes increasingly subject to manipulation. His work, his consumption, and his leisure are manipulated by advertising, by ideologies, by what Skinner calls “positive reinforcements.” The individuals loses his active, responsible role in the social process; he becomes completely “adjusted” and learns that any behavior, act, thought, or feeling which does not fit into the general scheme puts him at a severe disadvantage; in fact he is what he is supposed to be…What has happened in modern industrial society is that traditions, and common values, and genuine social personal ties with others have largely disappeared. The modern mass man is isolated and lonely, even though he is part of a crowd; he has no convictions which he could share with others, only slogans and ideologies he gets from the communications media.” – Erich Fromm (Anatomy of Human Destructiveness)

 

But the problem we face is that they have instructed us, they have pampered and primed us. They have created all the plastic toys and trinkets, the cartoons, the pornography of culture. They manage the breads and circuses, the sham shows that draw us into unreality and away from our own callings, the toxic entertainment that inculcates us with fetish and materialism. They educate and govern us with trillions of little statutes that create a nation of criminals rather than a nation of free peoples. They teach us to be lifelong infants, to never question authority or those with official sounding names or badges, that they have all the answers prefabricated, and our only duty is to accept them.

 

They control the public debate and bend it to their liking. The networks and newspapers are in the hands of a few. The messages they dessiminate from these sources are rarely uplifiting. They are mostly an attempt to break down and reconstruct your mind. And having reconstructed your mind, digging deeper into your spirit. They are the ghostbusters with their vaccum machines, here to suck out all that’s good and joyous in the world. There is an undeclared war against the innner you. All that is outside is the allegory for what is taking place on the inside. Wars and rumors of wars. Stand-offs and filibusters. Toppling nations and emerging powers. A house of horrors with all the most grotesque beasts, with razor-clawed hands, pawing and cutting into the flesh. Terrorizing you, calling you out to play.

 

They control every road and point of entry and exit, they have executive claim over the land and will forcefully condemn and rob your little plot of land if they see fit, and they control the value of money which is no really money at all. It is all floating debt, “notes” that can and never will be paid off because a Ponzi scheme can never be rectified. It needs an ever-growing number of new loans to cover the previous loans and into perpetuity. We have been the spoil and booty in the game; and they have branded us. And so we can’t go anywhere, because we have not been taught how to be sovereign and self-reliant. Even those of us who are taking the first steps realize how harebrained it sounds, but something is telling us that it will be well worth it if we avail ourselves of the journey. It is not easy. We talk ourselves into deliriousness. If we just get a few more of those flimsy pieces of paper we can buy freedom. Buy freedom? The only thing between us and freedom is a “concept”, a piece of bark dipped in green ink and stamped with the face of a powdered wig slaveowner. Imagine the irony!

And yet there are many inside the burning house, glued to the set, consuming the same messages that catapulted the world into a mess, the hypnotic suggestions of the Tavistock Institute and Madison Avenue. At the same time the alarm is going off and the consensus in the burning house is to reset the alarm because it is interrupting the program. Michelle might pick Brad or Jason. A cockamammie is pulling a stunt and its so hilarious! Look, look, he’s getting kicked in his balls! Reset the alarm and continue sitting in the burning house. As if the alarm is not going to go off again and again and again. The chances are many, it is only our understanding that is slow to grasp that the walls are falling all around us. Time is accelerating but our brains have been stultified and can only respond to pop culture jargon. Don’t fret if you don’t fit into that equation. There are many waking up each day, realizing that they’ve forsaken truth, and the flag is fraying in the wind, time is preparing its last rites.  R.D. Laing writes: “We live in a moment of history where change is so speeded up that we begin to see the present only when it is already disappearing.”

The train’s a comin’, the times they are a changin’ and that “flash” could occur at any moment, that tripwire that send tremors through the entire planetery matrix, a blackout in communication, a breakdown in transportation, the full unraveling of the banking system, a scarcity in food, etc. There will be flares and pop-ups, and many programs promising that they can annihilate the virus, too many to close them all, or to pay attention to one for too long. What is the truth, what is real? You won’t know because you have been stuffed full with fantasy and make believe all your life. This moment is paralyzing. Trying to restart the program will not help. Trying to power off is useless. The system will go into further disintegration and there is nothing any of us can do about it. Go ahead and try to save it at your own peril. It’s like trying to pilot a plane when both wings have blown off. No need to panic though, my friend. This is inevitable. Do not be afraid. It is not the closing scene. It will be dark as if all the stars have been torn from the sky. But it will only go dark so that the scene can be changed. And the lights will flash back on.

“You know, a deliberate derangement of the senses worked for Rimbaud; it might work for us as well. What we have to do is go to the rainforests, the aborigines, and check up — check in — on what we have always dismissed, which is the world of natural magic and wisdom obtained through intoxication. This is what we’ve lost, and this is why our creativity is insufficient to overwhelm the cultural crisis which is confronting us. We have to stir it up. We have to mix it up. Ideas dictated out of the agenda of washed-up capitalism and science and religion is simply insufficient. Reason has failed. History has failed. And what we all have to do, I think, is fall back on ourselves. We have to stop waiting for the revelation to come from CNN or Time Magazine, and get lives! And what getting lives means is ignoring the idiotic laws that would dictate to us the kind of states of mind that we can entertain.” – Terrence Mckenna

The conspiracy was never outside ourselves though it manifested into physical, real-time events. The conspiracy outside may have been against you and I, to keep us from the great apostasy, the great falling away from dying systems and dinosaur institutions, to keep us from an all-inconclusive agnosticism, to question all that alleges to have authority of us, to keep us from prudence and mindfulness and unaware of all the virulent programs trying to upload into our main database- but it was never outside of our control because we created the thing. It’s viability weakens the second we take our eyes off the bat. It is a lesson that I am learning through the grinding and gnashing of my teeth. But it is not out of our control; we are one with it. No need to stuff our faces hoping to postpone the shift. If you’d like, as it is your will, eat all the never-ending gobstoppers you can, but when you’ve consumed beyond necessity and you’re all fat and plump, the would-be controllers can roll you anywhere they’d like. But stop eating their gobstoppers! Let’s make our own!

We’ve carried the unction, it resonates with the rest of the universe. We’ve just been afraid of the backlash and the exclusion. We’ve co-created all of the conspiracy out of our deep-rooted fears, to multiply our trauma and handicap ourselves to the point we need their benefits and privileges. It gives us excuses to stay in their jurisdiction. Out there beyond the walls of our militarized fortress, there are zombies and monsters in wait. We believe they will trap and cage us if the police state were to vanish. We would be without recourse or remedy. Well, sorry to tell you, my friend, but we are already without recourse and remedy. At least in the sense that many want. What will you do when your dollars and investments don’t mean diddly squat anymore? You can hold onto your stocks and bonds all you want when the corrective shift, the universal adjustment comes. They won’t save you. They will incinerate in the heat of fiery consciousness as an earthly Jubilee arrives, to weigh the balances and find who and what is wanting. and to set all the captives free from the war and debt that has spider legs over the whole earth as Ellen Brown explains in her book Web Of Debt.

The only title we have left is who we are, the verdict of our own minds and we must use it without apology. But they want your mind. That is their primary mission. The word government itself is derived from the Latin word “gubernare” and means to rule, to control, restrain.  It’s conjoining term “ment” is from the Greek and means “mind, insight.” Agenda illuminated. Purpose found. They only way that government of the mind can be enforced is through the never-ending banging on the fear drums. The monsters! The monsters! Truth be told, the monsters outside of the walls, we created those too. The conspiracy is real but it is only real because enough of us believe it and have brought it into existence. Let’s believe something different, that peace is possible, that beauty, freedom and love are indispensable. Let them condemn and take the property and reclaim their illusionary dollars. Let the decorations fall from the billboards and the emblems be trampled in the streets. We can learn a lesson from the little town of Whoville, that our life is not dependent on the vagaries of despotic hoards of men. This is our conspiracy and we can refuse to co-create the world the Uniformity League envisions. There are others like me, striving, struggling, tossed to and fro, learning to walk for the first time, seeing a newness in the vision, rediscovering that the kingdom was never without, but always within. There, upon the turning wheel of the mandala, the conspiracy is born. Align the wheel. Balance the rotation. Set free. Spin into ecstasy.

The Persistence Of Evil

The Persistence Of Evil  

Image from http://graphicshunt.com/images/evil_girl-12491.htm

One of the most heart-wrenching stories was reported in the news recently. A young woman leaves her five-month old baby with her current boyfriend. A few hours later a call is made to 911 by the boyfriend. The terrified young man reports that the child has swallowed an object and although he was able to pry the object from the child’s throat, the child will not stop crying. The parademics arrive and inspect the interior of the child’s mouth and search deeper into its throat as far as they can possibly go without causing the child further discomfort. They are unable to determine whether the child’s pain is due to choking on the object or if the child is simply experiencing an elongated post traumatic stress fit. On further analysis it is found that the child is bleeding. In its vaginal area. The boyfriend has raped the underdeveloped, defenseless child and in his panic he brought the paramedics to this most heinous crime scene.

What is your reaction? Are you appalled? Angry? Disgusted? Vengeful?

Any reaction that you have to a narrative this dark is appropriate. This is not normal human behavior no matter how much research is gathered in an attempt to demonstrate that the human is by nature brutish, fiendish, pathological. So when something this perverse occurs part of us even faced with the reality still refuses to believe that someone could muster the pathology to carry out such an horrific act. It is not because we feel that through disbelief we can make this reality disappear; but we know at the most subtle part of our beings, the most undefiled part of ourselves that the marauders and the marquees strive to keep us from excavating, that this is not apart of the human curriculum. Something or a group of someones has hi-jacked the natural unfolding of all that we are, as the lotus flower strives to unfurl its resplendent petals, some agency has not only snipped its petals to keep it from full blossom, it has thought it amusing to drop its dung on the lotus flower also.

We may be assuring ourselves that this gentlemen is deserving of the death chair while at the same time caught in a crux: “this can’t be happening, people can’t be this evil, there is something terribly wrong with the human condition for someone to even consider this savagery in their minds, let alone act upon it.” We frantically try to find all these justifications for something that can’t be justified because it is not real humanity. Any one who has come across an abused, neglected, rabid animal can witness to the fact that the animal may be expressing hostile behavior but we can’t assume that because it seems ready to tear us to shreds that this is who the animal really is. As Robert Anton Wilson conveys in Quantum Psychology, the word “is” introduces so many metaphysical assumptions, and on top of that, it rules out infinite probabilities.

But if this animal, tortured by misabuse, and there are many factors that contribute to the quandary, attacks us or someone else, the first line in the book is to put the vicious, mangy thing to sleep. The aggression cannot be allowed to pass without vicious retribution. That someone knowingly and consciously took advantage of the weakest among us demonstrates his depravity. He should be made to have every source of light cast upon his evil deed and unrelentlessly reminded that he is made of the most despicable and filthy material on earth. Here and there, the crime leaves us all too aghast, our minds too disturbed, the malady far too atrocious to be reasoned away, and we must eliminate the pariah from our midst. Not because we are concerned about justice, but inwardly we are so bothered by this abject desperation in humanity because it may remind us of our own forays and foibles. Someone comes along and does something that society finds loathing and we can point our fingers outward. The rabid, vicious dogs of humanity get us off the hook. And it is always those with the most inner confliction that call out for the most extreme and cruel of punishments, that would hastily treat another human being like someone twisting the water out of a wet rag, twisting and torturing until what is human is completely wrung out. And what is accomplished simply makes the last worse than the first.

Does a person of this caliber, mentioned in the story above, brought to such a level that he would rape a baby even really know himself or understand what he is doing? I would beg to differ, and as controversial as it may sound, I would say that there is no way in hell that this person consciously understands his actions. If he’d really known himself than behavior such as this would be unheard of. I don’t believe that a society or organization full of people who have “met themselves” would be capable of committing their minds to such gruesome and disconcerting acts. David Watson writes in The Pathology Of Civilization:

“We reproduce catastrophe because we ourselves are traumatized – both as a species and individually, beginning at birth. Because we are wounded, we have put up psychic defenses against reality and have become so cut off from direct participation in the multidimensional wilderness in which we are embedded that all we can do is to navigate our way cautiously through a humanly designed day-to-day substitute world of symbols – a world of dollars, minutes, numbers, images and words that are constantly being manipulated to wring the most possible profit from every conceivable circumstance. The body and spirit both rebel.”

We live within a society full of people who have been systemically led away from realizing their wholeness. It seems that every force from outside of the self has arrayed an army of precision snipers to knock off any attempts at self-realization. They are crouched in covert areas with the “active mind” always in the sniper’s crosshairs. Education, advertisements, politics, religion, take your pick. There is embedded in every institution some hidden agenda to dehumanize the person, insinuate smallness and depression, and exploit the slightest sign of weakness and angst for the benefit of the institution. A phantom guilt is proppped up by a constant barrage of deceptive metaprogramming to tranquilize the person. The brutal campaign teaches them to embalm their guilt for preservation, they are commanded to pick and prod at their littleness and idolize their separation. No matter from which direction the onslaught comes from, its ultimate goal is to see to it that the human mind is limited by its own shame. There comes a point in time when it has been so infused with the messages of smallness, that it adopts them as truth, that it has been so sliced and diced by the butchers among us, that it accepts its fragmentation as natural.

Those who lean their shoulders against the grain are taught that to do so is an infraction. Many, never given the space to grow, to understand and conceive that there is something beyond the stars and stripes, bars and gates, grow weary with the game and turn upon themselves and then others. That it manifests into such ghastly accounts, no one wants to accept that it might have something to do with the bullshit that has been constructed around us, the arbitrary sphires and the styrofoam walls. Instead, we take the highroad and pretend to understand what needs to be done. I am unsure what the source is, it may be Tao or Hopi, but it is said that truth is known at three levels. That which we hear, that which we observe and that which we experience directly. When stories with such gall are conveyed to us as the story above, they are usually from a second-hand account, the first level of truth, that which we hear, and which is the most naive level to construct truth from. Regardless of what kind of reality it takes on for us personally, it remains hearsay because none of us, from a distance, having received information from an intermediary, can claim full knowledge. We could never state “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth” because we do not possess the whole truth.

I only use this crime as the worst of cases. But even in those cases that are much more innocuous such as a person who is in possession of a controlled substance, we have been trained to rise up as administrative justices and call for the full force of law. The punishment inflicted often accomplishes more violence than the actual crime or infraction. Individuals of all levels of the totem pole are compelled to commit the violence of self-prosecution over and over again, long after our gavels have dropped. Keeping a person’s guilt ever before them, carving into their chest the flaming red scarlett letter narrated in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s book, is thought to deter further detestable behavior. It is habituated as a control mechanism but it produces no fruit beneficial to the criminal, nor to others. It reinforces instead the unreality that our true nature is inherently evil and we must brutalize it into subjugation. A curious thing always happens when the iron hammer of retributive justice is in place: there is no expulsion of crime from its dominating plane, it merely persists and grows.

Newton’s Law Of Motion tells us that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. This mechanstic explanation of the world’s processes is the chosen manner for responding to events in the world. Often times, contrary to this law, the response is far more aggressive, far more evil, far more destructive than the initial event, the intitial action. We’ve seen this play out quite unfortunately in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Vietnam and Iraq. Those who perished in these conflicts have suffered casualties far greater than those who were being revenged. It is comparable to the ineffably insane idea pitched by Christianity that God would sentence his “defective” creation to an eternity of fire and brimstone for rejecting it during a lifespan that does not even register as a dot on an infinite time chart. The reaction is not equal, it is worse, it exceeds the magnitude of moral sensibility and principle. That the retribution has accomplished more damage than the precursor does not help in diminishing the previous evil. It is rather the prime aider and abetter of the evil’s promulgation.

It is a sadness to watch as the response only makes the initial seem par for the course and at the same time aggravates the initial reaction and makes it worse than it was before. When one “radical” or “insurgent” is killed, we do not succeed in snuffing their movement; instead others are incited to violence and more violence is needed to offset the increased violence that was only a response to our reacting violence. You get that? If you hit me, and I hit you back, than you will most likely try to match every act of defense, and if possible, to go beyond your necessity to truncate the force; the fight becomes more bloody, more brutal and as it becomes more violent, more cheating, callousness and calamity is produced. And because of it, we need more frequent and more potent doses in an attempt to restrain the persisting and growing evil. Not privy or too bloodthirsty for revenge to realize that we can’t heal or correct the world or people by the same processes that bring about destruction and division: coercion, force, fraud, uniformity, brutality, violence, lies, propaganda, willful and intentional distortion of education, blockading of our etheric sense, pillage, plunder and merciless behavior.

If the former was brutality why is the latter option always more brutality? We create an unbroken circle that perpetuates it. There are many people traumatized and debased by a very methodical plan to keep them operating at a low frequency. They will not be diverted by a plethora of rules and punishments. They will smirk as more decrees are nailed to the doors of the temple or typeset in the halls of parliaments. They will see the breaking of laws as necessary to alleviate their own inner torment. As they’ve lived with splintered idenitities, shame and rebuke, they feel they are deserving and the punishment for their infraction will be comforting. This can only be an expanding and constant pattern that succeeds in terrorizing our way of life rather than adding beauty to it.

It occurs in small exchanges such as gossip and slanderous banter and at worst it occurs in imprisoning men and women, murder and war. It is not my intent to say that these things have not sometimes been warranted but if it has any redeeming utility now, it is only because it exceeded its limits before and cultured a far more dangerous environment. And when those who govern overly rely on the rod of violence to conduct their business, the society that follows it will become more mendacious as a result. The expansion of violence will go on in an unhindered continuum.

John Von Neumann’s Catastrophe Of The Infinite Regress identifies our plight: it is “an attempt to solve a problem which re-introduced the same problem in the proposed solution. If one continues along the same lines, the initial problem will recur infinitely and will never be solved.” The search for security or the right blow to halt crime will be found to be the chief cause of insecurity and more crime. Whatever gets us out of the first snag or knot will also need a solution. In the search to weed out “terror” from our midst, the government has produced more terror and more trauma than the intitial terror. In order to help someone, we must keep them helpless and what better way than to build a theme park of fears around society so that we might always feel as if we cannot find safety in the world without a protector.

In my study of law, one of the concepts that has stood out the most is “accepted for value.” When someone is given a presentment which can be a number of things, a warrant, ticket, bill, etc., they have a few options. They can fight the presentment or ignore it and go into “dishonor”, because the act of resisting creates a controversy that must be resolved. Most lawyers know this but will guide their client into dishonor by battling the charge. The most feasible way for both parties is for the presentee to accept the presenter’s instrument as valuable. This closes the circle without creating extraneous controversy and both parties are free from debt or dishonor. The facts within the charge are recognized but the charge itself is deactivated. It is in effect a form of forgiveness without resorting to histrionics and theatre. By resisting the charge or claim we give energy to it and the process could go on ad infinitum, helping its propensity accrue.

If I could envision any society or association it would be a society based on “accepted for value”; that no matter how odd, strange, weird or deranged that each and every one would be accepted as valuable, that instead of expending resources on reductionism of the human and keeping them entranced by their imperfections, we would seek to see the human condition as whole, as it really is. This is how that which we classify as evil and malicious can be diffused in my book. Accepted for value is love, it is recognizing that beyond the facade and empires we have built around ourselves, out of fear and shame or for validation, that within is our true nature. Love is the only element with the force of life to deconstruct the lie that evil must persist and that we must go on paying alms to it, making more laws to regulate it, building more armies and bombs to vanguish it. In our cause to eradicate it, we do not automatically gain a moral high ground, but we ourselves certainly become more evil. The turnkey is the discovery of who we really are and that ours is not in the fight or the resistance, but in the awareness and the acceptance.

There are those walking among us now who have expanded their Roche Limit. An object within the Roche Limit can no longer sustain its own gravity and disintegrates. The tidal force breaks up the rules. Doesn’t love accomplish this? It may not have its own science but the ability of love to subvert the cause of evil is well known to the human condition. And subvert may be the wrong term; it moreso neutralizes evil. Evil loses its face and destroys its own self in the face of love. Love is like a mirror that reflects the evil back to itself but never takes upon the evil. Evil is not incurable, incorrigible and undefeatable. This is the mematic myth that has run far too many laps around the earth. And the supporting myth that more evil must be called upon to rid the earth of the first myth propagates this pernicous cycle. Love looks upon evil and says “I accept that it is” and the evil no longer is. True justice does not gamble society’s protections on the cruelest punishments and penalties; and true justice does not even attempt to reform the violater. Mankind does not need reformation. Mankind is in dire need of reconciliation, restitution and restoration. The institution that exacerbates crime by manufacturing more of it is no friend to humanity.