Archive for June, 2009

The Loopy Universal Multiplex

June 26, 2009

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

June 12, 2009

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

June 10, 2009
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.

hannibal.jpg hannibal lector image by Freaky17

“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

June 7, 2009

The Persistence Of Evil  

blood bloody evil dark horror

Image from

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.

Dissolving The Straw (Wo)Man

June 4, 2009
Dissolving The Straw (Wo)Man
There was an aphorism in the novel Atlas Shrugged that struck me as profound: “When a man declares “Who am I to know?” he is saying “Who am I to live?”
What sort of authority do I have to inquire, question, investigate? Who am I to challenge the prevailing opinions of our day? Who am I to doubt the sincerity of my would-be-rulers? How did I even get to the point of referring to servants of the “public good” as rulers? How did I lessen myself to such an extent that I find that the authority without is more comforting than the authority within? Who am I to be a moving, living, breathing, sentience being with the full capacity of thought and imagination? Who am I to rely on my ingenuity, strength, courage to go about creating that kind of world I imagine? Who I am to make mistakes and to fall into the well if the results are not favorable to the authority apparatus? Who am I to go outside of the decrees of the Uniformity League Of The World to find a code not recognized by the current operating system?
And so it is that many have accepted the comfort of subservience over the unfathomable riches that come with free inquiry. It is safe to live within the official paradigm where everything they want us to know is preconfigured, but nothing that we need to know is included. All that is of import is outside of the paradigm, and truth be told, there is no such thing as a paradigm. The paradigm is only a concept too. The authority apparatus is an illusion as much as the millions of codes, statutes and regulations to protect its interests are but inkblots on a paper. It can never be figured out because it is not meant to be figured out. It is the sun that blinds you when you glance at it. It is a winding, byzantine road map. It is a Rorshach test and anyone that tries to understand the incomprehensible and reduce it to something simple will find themselves reduced in the process. That is exactly where the forces of the Uniformity League want us. Chasing figments. Propositioning chimeras. Opening Alice’s crawlspace to follow the white rabbit until we are twisting one billions ways til Sunday.
It doesn’t just affect those who follow the path of inquiry but it affects those who go against the paradigm also. It was written once that “what you fight you become.” It follows the Hegelian dialectic of problem-reaction-solution. Or thesis-antithesis-synthesis. A problem is presented. The causes of the problem are sensationalized and so we must find a remedy. The scam of the Hegelian dialectic is that the solution or the synthesis doesn’t eradicate the problem. Instead, it balloons it. Both the problem and the reaction twist upward like the DNA spiral staircase into further hybridization. A pathetic example is Rockefeller’s draconian drug laws in the 70s; an attempt to crack down on drug pushers and abusers. Instead of the “war on drugs” establishing peaceful homogeneity in American communities, it has fostered familial and societal disintegration. The resulting anomie is not witnessed with repulsion by the majority of us but has become a staple of American values. Today, the bulk of men and women rotting away in prison are there for nonviolent drug crimes and the “freedom-loving” USA hosts the largest prison population of any country in the world.
But it would not be this way if we knew who we were. It would not be if we realized that our identity was not a placard of society but sovereign and beyond society. If all men and women are born equal, and this is absent of government or hierarchy, who are you to dicate to me what I can or can’t do with my mind and body? Moreso, how did someone become my unequal if all are born equal? Who set up this playpen of domination and submission? This is the contradiction that has so transfixed us on what is happening outside ourselves and neglecting the true ruler within ourselves. This is the real terrority that we are to possess, not our neighbors or another country. Because we have forsaken our own inner kingship for an outer one we are caught in the faux reality that there is truly an authority outside of ourselves. But this is false. There is no authority apart from ourselves. Yes, there are governments, societies, laws and ideologies but these are all illusions. No man can make you accept a government you did not create, to contract into a society that you did not voluntarily join, to follow laws that are only favorable to the vipers who create them and to accept an ideology that is incoherent with your own inner truth.
We have accepted that this is so and we are fighting with one another to the point of killing and maiming each other to prove our worldview absolute. It does not have to be a physical killing. The energy of brutality that we send out into the world is enough. I speak from my own experience. We are fighting over trivial illusions that can never be remedied; we can only call truces, treaties and recesses that mean very little to those at the bottom of the pyramid of power forever fighting over more trivial illusions. Those at the pyramid’s top are the only ones benefitted by the mini-dictatators we attempt to be. The all-seeing eye encourages our tomfoolery. It is animated in the Left-Right divide, the Capitalist-Socialist face-off, Christianity vs. Islam, and thousands of other schisms and yet the fight is wasteful. We concede nothing and conclude nothing because illusions cannot be remedied. Yet, we continue to fight over whose illusions will be the dominant force to regulate society even at the price of dehumanizing those whose illusions we don’t agree with. There is a cost to pay for that fighting. It is heavy and ineffably heart-wrenching. So many of us caught in the antagonism of “us against them” do a worse violence to ourselves than the one that we wish to eradicate from humanity.
It is only in a society in which rulers think that they can scientifically manage the people that these hostilities grow more severe. And we are seeing it played out right before our very eyes; we do destruction to each other because we are first doing destruction to ourselves. It can only be a fragmented individual that could ever think that killing the enemy would lead to the stoppage of abortion in the world. It can only be a fragmented country that could ever conceive that bountiful killings of perceived threats could every lead to peace and harmony in our world. But because we have become imbalanced by venerating ideologies, and through the burden of significance have sought prestige, the cancer that is first released in ourselves can only live there so long before it needs a larger host. The grander host is the society outside of ourselves. Because there is a sense of inward insecurity, everything becomes a contention, every person we meet we are in competition with, trying to determine their worth based on their social position, their dress, their wealth or their ideology. Does it coincide with ours? If not, that person for the most part becomes a leper, and as a petty difference has made them a leper, through petty but vaunted policy we go about finding ways to annihilate the leper colony. Violence is given license if we think it will sustain our security.
This search for security has been the prime mover of insecurity in our world. But somehow we have been trained not to go into ourselves but to go outside of ourselves to gratiate it. Looking away from the center, we see the unstable phenemona on the edge and that frightens us. But yet, we still won’t return to the center. By then, the way has been blocked by societal impositions. Not just me, but the next guy over has the path back to himself blocked by societal impositions, what Alan Watts called “the taboo of knowing who you are.” And so neither he nor I wants to be the pioneer to break the taboo afraid that we will be broken off from connection, reduced to nothingness. It’s so amazing but that nothingness that we despise is what we are really after because it is in that realization that we become, that we see the inseparable bond that we have with the rest of humanity, unseen by the one-dimension man or woman caught in the tangle of putting up fences and curtaining windows. It is in our nothingness that we see the true harmony of everything, and that we are not separate or above it, but a part of it. There are centurions along the path interrogating us with strong words and contemptuous behavior, “What do you want to go there for?” “Who are you to think you don’t have to accept the code the rest of us have?” “You can’t go it alone!” “You are worthless! You’ll never get any acceptance if you choose that path!”
If we accept this, there is only artificiality to guide us. The “straw man” becomes the power of attorney for all of our dealings in life. The straw man is a fiction who only exists by the power we give it. The straw man is given energy by our refusal to question, to examine and to understand on our own terms, not on anyone else’s. The term “understand” itself is a subjugation tactic. In the legal world when an official ask “Do you understand?” they are testing you to see if you will “stand-under”, if you will abscond your own throne for their inferior, fictitious jurisdiction. So when we believe without questioning, and consent without challenge we are deciding to stand under, to be a foot stool for an authority that is only empowered through forsaking our own power.
The “straw man” is real, but only in the notional sense that a character is produced on the big screen. Anything that seeks to characterize you from outside of yourself is your straw man. He can be found on written documents, birth certificates, social security cards, bills, records, but it is not you. You may use these things to operate in the world of commerce but they are only scraps of paper. You are not a written document, you are not a plaything for the powers-to-be to reduce you to a caricature of yourself. You are not a reputation, an opinion or a soundbite proferred by those who seek to abuse and belittle you. You are much more than that and more powerful beyond your wildest imagination. It takes you simply saying “No!” to those who wish you to consent to debasement, and ignoring those who have been appointed to guard the way back to the center of yourself, the place where all the hiccups, contradictions and malfeasance of the world are harmonized and our oneness with all others is realized.
Recently I was in the presence of one of the Uniformity League’s token bureaucrats. He possessed the typical sheen of superiority and the certainty that anything proceeding from his mouth had the unadulterated sanctity of truth. There was another gentlemen, albeit not wearing the noble title of public servant, but still equipped with enough reason to question some of the statutes of the State. After presenting his greivance, which was well-reasoned and carried all the attributes of genuineness, he stood down with alacrity. But his expectation that the token bureaucrat would consider his complaint as anything other than farting in the face of authority was met with a harsh redactment: “You should be careful about your thinking of how things ought to be” at the complete dismissal of the historical fact that most of what is considered social progress was brought about by men and women who thought there were different ways in which to see the world and set about bringing those visions to fruition. You only have to consult a volume of the Encyclopedia Brittanica to the see the stupidity in such a rebuke.
I was flabbergasted at this display of authoritarian putdown. This is the type of contempt that can be expected when an individual questions a prized tenet of the State, especially if it has served well as a technique for social cohesion, in spite of its truthfulness. Once someone has begun to entertain the reality that their mind was not meant as a canvas for the world to scribble its bile upon, nor as a depository for the world’s excrement, but rather that it is there for their own creativeness and discernment they can expect to be put down by those who have forsaken their own reasoning and questioning and demand that everyone else do the same.
Those who govern by rules, and not principle will always be bound by the letter of the law, and never open up to the spirit inherit in the infinite spectrum of our being. But we can open up to it, in spite of the Uniformity League’s admonitions and threats that seek to have us functioning at a fraction of our capacity. Those of us that have gone and are going there are here to shine a light but we do not wish to be anyone’s security or safety blanket and neither do we expect others to be ours. I hope only that those who have been deceived by the same false fear that I have and the same illusions of our division are open to rejecting the senseless violence of debate, demagoguery and destruction and seeing that we are both composed of the same light. If we can even get the possibility in our minds and no longer let the straw man create controversy between you and I, we may see our world better served. I have seen the small adjustments in changing the angle of reflection. The straw man only exists in the attention that we give it; when it is given no attention, its artificiality dissolves and the real “me” and “you” is all that remains. Substance not shadow. Cooperation not contempt. Love not war.