Author: jplivz@yahoo.com

It is all so massive and minuscule. Earth is a massive planetary well of deep, seemingly inexhaustible resources. Earth is a speck of cosmic dust orbiting a star in the Orion Spur of the Milky Way galaxy. The history of human civilization, and culture, is voluminous with layers of events and intrigue. Human history is less than one one hundredth of one percent of the history of life on earth. Perception is everything. On the one hand, a subject or event could be like the most important thing. On the other hand, it may mean nothing. I could be the guy that wants to get into a fight with the next person in line at the convenience store because I’m still pissed off over the outcome of a sports game, and the person I’m about to fight with would not even know what the game is. So, how do we come to grips with the actuality of matters at hand, the scale, and how it’s perceived. It’s all or nothing, or nothing at all. How important is it? It’s all in what you’re looking at, and how you’re looking at it.

Media matters have been masterminded for millennia. Media traditions have an exceedingly wide range. From the subliminal to the sublime range the means of instruction that is communicated and shared. Is it the voice heard in the head, the broadcast heard by many, the rumor spreading through the crowd, the oral tradition passed down generationally, the suspicion of intuition, the song sing songed by the poet, or the mandate issued by the boss? Streaming from transmitter to receiver the evolutionary procession of events is fertilized with the information at hand. Suspect the informer, and seal the receiver. The character of the event cascade is a function of the character of the information. Who/what is spreading the word, and why?

Pure communication has coherence. Impure communication is incoherent. Chaos exists. It is a necessary and regular variable in the function of reality. The reality stream in and out of chaos is everlasting; no problem. Order is a variable also. No problem. Reconciling the reality function with these two variables in perpetual play is a major memorial aspect of the experience of life. The meaning, purpose, and expression of the happenings included in the reality is the nature of each bubble of reality, and that bubble’s culture. So, the purity of the communication, from the simple cellular function, all the way up to the complex biophysical structure affects the evolutionary trend for chaos or order. The indicator that is of interest right now is whether or not this aspect of reality is gaining or losing coherence in the primary awareness of the human inhabitants of earth. Are things growing more orderly or chaotic? That answer is relatively important. What’s the scale of the realty? It is all in how you look at it.

For the sake of this discussion, I am going to try and not impose importance on any aspect of any particular topic. There is, however, some topic matter that is impressed on us as being of great importance. The fragility of public health and safety is a routine theme stressed of deserving our utmost attention. Capitalizing on the dualistic insistences of us and them, as well as, the repetitive reminder that our health is at constant risk, traditional media sources insist that we comply with specific dictates, and shut off consideration of any alternatives. The messaging is very strict, yet very shaky, in my view. We’ve been repeatedly told to trust our governmental leadership, and system, for societal, and fiscal responsibility. There’s an ever increasing push to get modern medicine into our lives to make us more well. There was supposedly an Industrial Age phase change to cleaner environmental practice put into place generations ago. Nuclear responsibility was like a pledge. Commitment to international cooperation and detente was a promise. Transparency!! Not to mention the God given right to freedom, justice, and liberty. And where do stand, in any one’s view, on these issues today? What is the trend? From where I’m standing it looks like there is a factor contributing to major league incoherence, and a trend in the direction of increased chaos; if not mass confusion. It’s hard to think of a reason to not seriously consider the source of our mainstream information.

Conventional wisdom is easy to breakdown once the closed mind opens. Therein lies the trick, and the potential reason why. There’s no obligation to think outside the box, however, it will provide a change in perspective. Try and wrap the mind around this. It might be a valuable place to start. (Apathy and/or disinterest not withstanding) There is no distance that can separate two entangled particles, none. They can be light years apart, and have instantaneous communication. So how big is space!? There is an infinite amount of space inside an atom. So how small is the atom!? There is a value to reconsidering conventional wisdom. There is a value in taking formerly trusted news/information sources with a grain of salt. The departure, and new view of reality may be the difference between a shiny water planet blue ball of earth majestically, blissfully, swimming in harmony with eternity, or an alter self spinning as burnt speck of rock dust circling the sun. In quantum reality both are true. How I/we relate to the “News of the World” will determine how and what comes about. It’s all in how you look at it.

Some years ago I was invited into the home of a couple who had hired me for the day to clean up their yard after a windy storm. V and J are the parents of a good friend of mine. My friend had not only recommended me to clean up the yard; he planned to join me that day to do the work. I had been an acquaintance of V and J for many years. They had seen me at my worst. While I had not exactly been vulgar in their company, I had been, in various combination, impolite, arrogant, disrespectful, and a jerk. As the time passed since our last meeting my life, and disposition, had begun to change. By the time the day arrived to re-introduce myself I had become less offensive by most standards, and interested in people in a much different way. V met me in the driveway upon my arrival. It was just him and me. My friend is customarily late, and was again this particular morning. I immediately recognized V as an honorable, mild mannered, decent, solicitous guy. There was no sense of a bygone judgement of me that stressed our interaction. As conscious as I was of my past sorry behavior is as glad as I was to know that I could be prompt, punctual, and attentive to that present here and now. That is how that day began.

The property and yard cleanup at V’s house was a combination of a mess that had just been made by a storm and residual stuff that had accumulated over time. V was good to show me around the place, and there was nothing there that was above my pay grade. I could help him out; and it could be done in one day. V seemed comfortable with my comportment, mood, and attitude. We seemed to hit it off. So far it was a far cry from the concerned look of disappointment that I remember having gotten from V years before. It was a solo effort at first. My buddy was late, and V, as well as his wife J, was not up to this work. It was time to get started, and so I did.

Eventually my buddy showed up. We plugged along until noon. That’s when we were called in to the house to eat. The kitchen table was set, and I was invited to sit down. In this space, of nearly forsaken hospitality, I would find sure and enduring inspiration. Not only are J and V very friendly solicitous hosts, they are remarkably steady in their own truth. Affirmatively we make a grace before we eat. A conversation begins driven by current events. Jerry Sandusky was on trial for sexually assaulting kids. I heard the most mature discussion about this popular story. Remarkably, without righteous emotion, regurgitative hype, or hyperbole we explored dimensions of human behavior and organization that could only be reached by emotionally balanced people. Inspiration grew and grew. J maintained her own discipline throughout. She tended to her own duties deliberately. All the while her listening skills were on display. This was evidenced by the timely relevant observations she would make and interject. V never lost his balance or even temperament moving through a great conversation. It was inspirational! I want to be able to discuss matters in a matter of fact way without getting mixed up, and compromised, by a personal pride, righteous indignation, passion, or a narcissistic love of the sound of my own voice. I’m inspired by how productively ideas can be developed on a hot-button topic. With a type of modest dignified honor we collectively make the afternoon terrifically meaningfully productive. I’m inspired by the healthy educational growth I’m feeling without anyone, or thing, succumbing to hype and/or degradation. Beautifully inspirational for me from beginning to end. What a terrific, and unexpected, element to the day’s experience. Surprise. Surprise!

Being the beneficiary of being present and accounted for this day’s tasks is great. We finish up our work, and say goodbye. J encourages me to be my best self. She wants to read my creative writing when I get around to doing it. V stops me to pay me. He shakes my hand. Forget the dollars and cents. That firm, direct, “I mean it” handshake from V meant much more than the pay. I’m glad I was asked to, and was able to help. I believe V and I mutually appreciated our acquaintance. That would be the last time I would see V.

V and J were married for sixty four years. Last spring they both became very ill. They were separated. They went to different healthcare facilities for treatment. I felt a very strong sense of what it means for them to be apart. From a distance I cared. Then the news came that V had died. There was a memorial service planned for V. There we would have another meeting. Could J make it?

At the funeral home that sunny spring afternoon I met my friend. I offered a real condolence to my buddy, and let him know about how much I thought of his dad. “Is your mom here?” I inquired. My friend told me that she was there. I could feel a charge in my heart. He told me that she was in the wheelchair. She can’t see well at all, but if you get up close, and tell her who you are, she will remember. Just then she came into view. Sure enough she was in a wheelchair. There were a lot of people around. Family. Friends. Her people. The family’s people. It was a very special afternoon. It was not the right time to re-introduce myself right away, so I kneeled at V’s open casket. I thanked him with a prayer. Eventually the scene relaxed. J was alone with the Jamaican lady who had helped J get there, was supporting J, and helping her for the day. While they were alone at the front of the room I was sure to make my way to J’s side, and introduced myself.

It was obvious that J has been involved in an immense test. Her posture appeared wounded, her bloodshot tear filled eyes bleary, and her complexion tried. There was a beauty as well. A beauty that belied the fatigue. I did what I had been told. Getting up close, I told her who I was and that I was very sorry to hear that V had died. She acknowledged who I was, and asked if I would say a prayer with her. Our left hands gently touched… Bless us… Bless these… Bless this… That’s how I remember the prayer. The actual prayer is withheld in the ether of truth and mystery. My realization is that the prayer was/is being offered by someone I really know. J is an affirmative version of herself. Her conviction is emanating from a place of peace, as grievous as the circumstances may be; it is strong. She’s sharing it! I can feel the inspiration arising inside me again. I let her know, “When I visited you and V at your home, those years ago, I was very much inspired.” With a very calm breath, J deliberately asked me, “How are you going to share your inspiration?”

The resumption of the ordinary began soon after bidding goodbye to J, thanking her, and disconnecting my hand from hers. I nodded and thanked the woman helping J, and found a seat among the family and friends in the funeral home. Respiring, the moment upon moment rested in me. Soon we were back in the parking lot, and on the way.

Life today includes being of service to other people. While it is not shriveled or grand, it is. There is a practice of being available to listen to and share about solution based activities for those that may want certain bits of help on the way. Messages of hope and help are carried in multi various ways. I’m glad that I’ve been introduced to and guided into a service fellowship that has a mission of helping others. It’s been helpful to me, and it’s neat to see that it’s possible to be part of a chain reaction that keeps the message of, and service of, help flowing. So it’s a practice. It’s a practice more often than it’s a passion. Yet it also is.

About a month ago we were wrapping up a regular get together held on behalf of our service practice. It is now routine. There is a vernacular which is largely parroted because it’s got proven effectiveness. In spite of this, there is always active creativity that leaks into our discussions. There is real candor for sure. The candor is routine too. In this way, another day comes and goes. On this particular occasion I am met afterward by someone that has approached me directly. It’s not unusual to get some specific one on one feedback. On this evening this feedback snapped me up. A lady I had never met before approached me. She made this point, “Thank you for sharing your inspiration.” Oh my?!?! The prayer!

Everyone has a say; from top to bottom, and throughout the many outposts of commentary. Public announcements, press briefings, interviews, news reports, blog posts, lectures, rallies, magazines, social networks, conversations, demonstrations, TV, radio, and podcasts fill the air with news, opinion, propaganda, and analysis fill the communication ether with a regular feed, and the big media companies press for attention. So it goes for the responsible citizen keeping up with current events.Turn on, tune in, and get buried with information. Routinely we get crisis of the hour breakdowns that are presented as if they are like last minute do or die, heroes and villains ultimatums. Meanwhile, the crisis of the last hour disappears into obscurity. Refrains of accusations like, “That can’t be true.” and alibis such as, ” That’s not what I meant.” are the regular follow up to yesterday’s “fact”.The only way to keep up with this schizophrenic news mess is to have a working attention deficit disorder and some really cheap loyalty to long failed authorities that critically blew their credibility many moons ago. It’s hard to come right out and say that today’s news is fabricated regurgitated garbage, so suffice it to say, it’s not relevant.

Here’s one more point of view. Corporate puppet masters are pulling the strings on heads of state, and their media arm talking heads are doing their level best to drive story lines. There is, operating consecutively, an undercurrent of research hungry investigators screening the corporate undercarriage for actuality, fact, and truth. Free thinking people and truth seeking journalists undermine the corporate cause. Corporate news authority is being seriously challenged. So with big media certain commentaries are promoted while others are marginalized. The relevance of messaging is not proportional to the attention given, or received. So now we have these quirky manifests being dictated through media like the lines of some script, written by a playwright that has lost track of the plot. We have exaggerated cliche sound bites reported through caricatures of power players that have a lame failing trust posture. The subject matter of each manifesto relates to the cause that the speaker wants to support; it does not relate to actuality. The media is a tool. It’s a weaponized tool, and has been for a long long time. This is no mystery. The big media masters want to get in our heads and exercise unyielding influence and control. They must be in a form of panic, however. They don’t know when to say when, and what legitimacy cover they have left is getting blown out with idiotic hysterical hype. US President Biden’s recent MAGA rant in Philly is the latest example. It’s obviously hyped, theatrically delivered, and irrelevant. So irrelevant and wrong, in fact that they themselves could not walk it back fast enough. The upside of this debacle is the sacrifice of some final relevancy.

-Your wasted words will never be heard, go on home baby and watch it on TV. Wasted Words. -Allman Brothers Band, Gregg L Allman

“Turn it off!! Turn it off!!” pleaded the now petrified project manager. His once confident authoritative tone rapidly squeezing and leaking into a shivering plead. Then mustering a failing ability to command the subordinates, the manager began making desperate threats of the other stunned denizens surrounding the now apparently overwound core working element of this covert psychic project. You want to talk about being in over your head!? All the participants of the program were rapidly realizing that they were at the mercy of a system with capacities far exceeding the limits of their own conception. Understanding can only get so far, so fast. With the runaway momentum of a psychic avalanche; surges, pulses, and waves of energy pushed through the ether like verities escaping from Pandora’s box. Madness settles in.

How many times are the captains of material means going to have to learn the lesson that the status of materialism is puny in the big picture of total reality? How hard is it, really, to see through the seduction of material allure? It’s hard to say, but one thing is for sure; stubborn gluttony has an extremely high ceiling of its own. History’s intrigue is in the repetition; it’s pattern. Enough is proving to never be enough in the conquest of the material world. With ever increasing tenacity, each current winner of the monopolistic material race reaches progressively desperately for the levers of control. Inevitably that reach grabs hold of the esoteric. The levers of science, technology, mysticism, and magic are the control freak’s dream. It is a big beware area, but it is devil may care for the power drunk insatiable freaks that have lost the balance of sanity, or are animated by evil; thus lacking caring, conscience, or compassion and simply not giving a rat’s ass about who, and what, gets hurt, or how bad. The at all cost procurement of mine, mine, mine has taken over. This is just the slightest surface scratch of the impending download of reality that the material champion is prone to unleash, yet, as is the want; here we go again.

The Montauk Project is a great example of what happens with runaway realty surges. Montauk Chronicles is a documentary of the Project. It lays out the fascinating story of the secret work, the difficulties of reconciliation, historical accuracy, detail, and the meaning of endeavoring to tap the quantum field for strategic purposes. Good luck reconciling the extra-ordinary elements that unfold from the quantum field. When it becomes clear that the power of creation is ultimately what is in charge, it’s too late in the game to reverse course and un-happen the happenings, or un-witness the events that precious few are prepared to witness. It is a runaway event procession of anything statistic or relativistic. Predictability is long gone. Stopping quantum looping is like trying to put a lid on an atomic bomb with a paper cup. So, whether you are Aleister Crowley, Napoleon Bonaparte, Idi Amin, JP Morgan, or any other power drunk monger that is endeavoring to claim ultimate power for their own, once the seams of reality loosen, and a bit of the Infinite begins to leak through, you are immediately disabled.

In the modern world we find ourselves on the enforced, and largely agreed upon, calendar timeline that puts us in the year 2022, there is a current events news feed that reads like a maelstrom of urgency, crisis, and chaos. Around the world there are edge of your seat dramas of do, don’t, and/or die. an epoch of serious liberty infringement controller programming. Highs of scientific expression are proudly described as root of reality tools. Quantum computers, geo engineering, CERN, and HAARP all push the fabric of reality. The consequences of this determined effort to make Reality obey has set the stage for a whopper of cascading enlightenment. Daily duties of practicality may, and do, work to lure most of us into a trance like one foot in front of the make ends meet practice estranged from the truth of peril. To be sure, there is immense good will among people and peoples, however, the efforts of the parasitic control class is critically toxifying the environment in the runaway way that is the out of control crash of a quantum reset that has already had many people of all walks exclaiming, “Turn it off! Turn it off!”

It’s been clear for a while now that by consenting, even passively, to the workings of the modern corporate world, I have been helping to feed it. The vision of the out of control crash of the world, that is enhanced by such things as Montauk, leave me pondering… In small ways and large it’s important to operate on a sovereign schedule, independent of control. It’s not easy to do, and hard to stick to. One thing is undoubted right now; on planet earth there is a quantum download running on its own. Anyone(s) that thinks that they are in control could not be more wrong. Let those that claim to be in charge run their mouths and have their own. It sucks to think that this world of overflowing abundance was exploited to the brink of exhaustion and collapse, but guess what!? The veil is torn. The pins are pulled. Though we may not realize it, we are on a cosmic Nantucket sleigh ride. I’m sensing strongly that holding it together during this cataclysm will require a serious effort to endeavor to forgive and help others. From animal to vegetable both loved and loathed the era of self service is over for those that would like to see a brighter day.

The most hopeful aspect of this beginning/end is that the controllers, operators, and authorities are eternal cowards. With the final failure of their lies collecting, it’s a sure bet that these creeps will be the first to jump ship. If the time is right for a return to balance these freaks will jump straight into hyper space like the desperate sailors on the Eldridge in Philadelphia. Once over board you are into the most soaring energy fields. Swept up into time and space. See ya!! For some harmony in the hearts of those that don’t explode of crazy perhaps the dawn is of the day beyond good and evil of today to an egalitarian era of reasonable bliss. For one thing there is no denying; we are well on our way.

Any reason for war is a total, complete, comprehensive, insidious lie.

The Colorado River peaks / Inventing passes, watching beneath / The tide’s abundant tree venom loose / Cannon shot shaft cleanly remove

Bast bast bast the last / Dripping webs so sacrifice / The dreaming dream dreamer up so along / Mining a mucous phlegm all alone

Carrying torches, monkeys, and cream / Developing petals by an atrophied stream / Coming back fishing, coming back clean / Miraculous marvels, the death birds relieved

I was four or five years old when my mother, my one year younger sister, and I were over in the next town to see the pediatrician, Dr. S. None of my memories from this early time are clear; not in a linear way. That said, all my thoughts and memories of visits with Dr. S are pretty friendly, except for one. The memory that is indelibly etched into my mind is of what happened on this particular day.

Our doctor’s office was in a house. You would walk in from the driveway/small parking lot into a basement room which served as a waiting room. The room had the 1950’s – 60’s vintage panelling that worked to make the room feel dim brown. In this case it was a lighter shade of dim. Off of the waiting room was a corridor. Down this hallway were the examination rooms. The hall wasn’t long, and there were maybe three or four rooms. We were going into the first room on the left.

The room was a typical, as seen on TV, primary care physician’s room. There was the obligatory examination table, counters, and cabinets surrounding the room. My sister and I were invited to sit on the table. We dutifully agreed, and got up on the table. We were sitting next to each other. She was to my right, and I to her left, side by side. I’m not sure how my sister felt right at that time. I don’t remember feeling any real nervousness. I can’t remember where our mom was. I do remember following the doctor across the room with my eyes. He made it in the direction of the the door to the room, and got busy with some materials that were there on a like a counter to the right of the door. Dr. S. turned in our direction holding a hypodermic, a needle!! Every thing went code red for me.

An emergency panic alert went off inside me. All of a sudden, I had no access to duty, compliance, or control. I literally hit the floor running. Out the door, through the lobby, and crashing into the exit door I went. Hysterically screaming in horror and terror, I desperately panic grappled with the door knob for escape. Grabbed!! I was grabbed!!! In their immediate surprise, my mom and Dr. S. tried to hold on to me, and calm me down. My visceral trajectory was skyrocketing. There was no calming this kid down. Spontaneous wails of pleading, “NO! NO! NO!” coincided with the most ferocious desperate writhing wrestle for release I could muster. In this precious moment of blind terror, I was either going to get out of there, or die trying.

What happened next is blurry, yet distinct. I was being dragged back into the examination room. Dr. S. was no feeble guy, and my mom was very strong. In the ensuing human tug of war, I gave it all I had. Clinging to anything I could grab was my emergency strategy to avoid this sudden, unexpected nightmare. At no point did I try to attack my persuaders, but did I plead!? The struggle lasted for a blind amount of time. I was lost in desperation. Screaming, grabbing, running, pulling, holding, grappling, and straining to the maximum. “You can’t!!” “I won’t!!” Then a sort of inevitability took place. I was losing strength. I remember feeling my arms and hand losing their strength. Just like in a tug of war, you could see that the progress was slowly, but surely, inching in the direction of the stronger side.

I collapsed. There was still a little strength left in me. Just enough to sit up next to my sister again. After being replaced in the jump seat, I was sitting there overwhelmed, exhausted, and temporarily resigned to compliance. It now seems like a hypnotic trance had taken over. The memories are quiet. First my sister, then me. In and out went the needles, delivering their quiver of “whatever” to make you better by vaccination they are supposedly about. The rest of this visit has disappeared from memory; disappeared like the vague aspect of a suspicious dream. What remains is the intensity of the feelings.

In a world of crippled discernment, and shredded trust, a survival reliance system is really for one’s own making. This pre-political, pre-programming, pre-illness gut response of mine is still alive. The gut feeling is the most reliable. I’m going to trust it. These modern day shots are everywhere. Pass at one’s own risk. I know I opted out at the outset, and the no shot conviction is stronger now than ever. With all due respect, take your shot and stick it. Blessings, and mercy, for anyone that will have them in their body; they are totally unwelcome in mine.

Whenever an information, or news source, that seems reliable for accurate, effective, and factual information is found, I apply another evaluation criteria. Is the news delivered without editorial opinion. In other words, is the news allowed to speak for itself? When the reporter becomes commentator they rapidly enter the margin for me. Interpretive reporting smells of agenda. If it’s opinion we want, that’s what we will look for. OK!?

Dane Wiggington, the host of Geoengineering Watch Global Alert News, loads a lot of information into weekly broadcasts, however, each broadcast is packed with opinion. He encourages the listener to do follow up research, and references actual data sources, which does prove to reinforce most of the key points of the reporting, but as an interested researcher, I consistently suspect that the host has some self serving angle. The subject matter is sensitive, alarming, and certainly serious. Taken on it’s face, you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t become emotional by the news. It’s important, however, to trust the person that’s listening to the news, and not tell them what to think. Sarcasm and suggestion are not the rule here. Just give it to us straight. When a host trusts us, I’m positive it’ll be easier to trust the host.

The overall value of being up to date on current events is debatable. Pursuing liberty involves making decisions of what to do, and, in ways, how to do it. When conviction comes about of how something has been helpful and useful for personal growth then one might very well like to share it. This could be helpful! Sharing information that serves to effectively challenge, fortify, corroborate, or improve a worldview has a real value. It would be a shame to corrupt the information with opinion. Sharing Global Alert News has a big caution. Dane does a good job of maintaining relevancy, so threads of coherence are discernible, and metaphysical (big picture) themes do manifest. I haven’t missed many installments over the past ten years or so. Man?! The years a passing quickly!! Over this period of time there hasn’t been many retractions or major corrections. The reporting has been consistent. It’s been largely on point. Rightness and correctness stand up on their own validity. It’s way more about what is right than being right. It would be great to share a broadcast that doesn’t come off as an effort to tell you how you should think, as opposed to understanding that there are things that may help you with what you do think. Just give it to me straight.

At the risk of making an imposition, check out geoengineeringwatch.org

What is, kind of, more important? The fate of some basketball player that thought it would be cool to turn the Russian National Team onto hash oil, or this…

Deforestation of Brazil’s Amazon hits record for the first half of 2022. ??

Or…

Summer wildfires ravage forest rich Siberia. ??

Or maybe…

Alaska’s June wildfires break records, fueled by hot, dry weather. ??

There really is a big bit of comedy to tragedy.

In a world of reactionarily creative makeshift terminology, used to claim authority over previously unobserved phenomena, comes another pseudo science term. Sudden adult death syndrome is the catch call for the unfolding rash of a new death phenomena among seemingly healthy adult people. Here’s a tip from a kooky marginal conspiratorial alarmist fool… Stop taking the shots.