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.
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.