Category: mythology

Light. The properties and characteristics of light. What it means to us, and it’s essence in creation. The bending of light which makes a straight straw appear bent at the surface of water. The distortions of figures reflecting from warped mirrors. The colors from white which separate and reintegrate through prisms. The imagination spawned by the contemplation of light’s emanation and passing. The wonder phenomena… Light.

Just sitting here with this goldfish. He lives in a vase. He’s swimming in place with his nose pressed against the inside of his space. Curiosity and activity have him swimming in this relatively small confined interior home. The vase is shaped like an apple with a sort of hour glass type of top which opens to the air through an inverted like glass cone. He swims. He swims. He swims to the inside of the top of the apple curve as it turns to the would be stem. He disappears!! There’s the feather fabric looking tail waving out of the invisibility. The imagination fires. Convex invisibility!

Now exploring a relaxed mindscape to chance and physical feature a clarity arrives. He’s right here and I can’t see him. The fish is nowhere, and right here. The convex glass. The water. The disappearing fish. A dimensional trick? A light property observation without knowing how to explain it or understand. All that’s clear is that he can’t be seen when we’re in these relative spots.

Could light be affected the same way by another means of warping the space/time it’s passing through? If yes, that means there is wide open possibility of the presence of things/entities here in a blind spot. Right here? Anywhere… Fever pitched mind excite! Access to a dimensional realm by intelligence. Access to a dimensional realm by consciousness. The mystic realm, the shamanic realm, inter dimensions, clairvoyance, awareness, suspicion, and intuition all seem terrifically real and regular right now. The great beyond feels present, not only without, but very much within. Excitedly, I think of the potential. At this moment I do not take for granted that perceptible reality is at all reliable. The realization of the potential for understanding beyond knowing by intuitive feeling has never seemed more valid. The importance of honoring the vastness of temporal limitations settles in. And respect grows for the importance of trying to maintain a quiet mind. As the fish swims back into the blindspot of convex invisibility the refrain rings and rings,”‘There’s more than meets the eye!”

What is happening? I am finding a strange internal response to a serious current events issue. I firmly believe that we are, and everything is, experiencing a multi various toxic assault. Yet I’m having difficulty staying motivated and active in helping to raise awareness about geoengineering. Geoengineering is a total crime and like a metaphor for the theft of freedom. This modification engineering phenomena often reduces me to distraction with frustration and outrage! The urgency, however, of consistent activation I’m finding unsustainable with apathy. This attitude is difficult to reconcile. It’s not enough to merely complain. I really believe this intense anti life attack is taking place. How can I not react strongly in an effort to protect myself and everything I care about? It’s clear we’re being poisoned. Where is my survival instinct!?

Pause. Pause. Take a deep breath. (How ironic is that?) Consider the personal experience path so far regarding this issue.

Geoengineering was first brought to my attention about three years ago. “Yeah sure. A plane with a white trail behind it. Big deal.” The scene was explained to me in terms I no longer recall other than “intentional” and “not good”. It was also suggested I look up Dane Wiggington. This is the point where the story of response goes from apathetic to apoplectic! The surface of the geoengineering topic barely required a scratch before it exploded into my biologic main frame! What!?

A form of enlightenment caused all conspiratorial topics crash into the psyche with plausibility The mind door cracks to possibility. The story of 911 being an inside job. The idea that social systems are rigged to keep us under control. Social system rigging along with rigged financial systems, media systems, medical systems, religious systems, education systems, and government systems. All bursting with technological inertia meant to overwhelm the attention of those exposed. Literally overwhelming everything living biologically and conscientiously. This is what initially motivated me to try to inform others, and myself, about the state of our collective found reality. This effort has been met with responses which leave me personally discouraged. Hardly anybody cares, and the visitation of the topic really seems to put people off. I don’t feel like I can afford to alienate important people in my life. The realization of this happening, and a loss of the sense of urgency has me stalled. Could the stall be beneficial?

Grappling the tug of war between action and inaction in an awareness cause to help get geoengineering pushed into the collective conscious has forced a soul search necessity and a solution searching prayer practice. This feels too important to ignore. What to do?

The realization sets in about the benefits of seeking, and having sought, within and without for a direction path that works. Following down the rabbit hole of research has brought a sub culture of intuitive, imaginative, free thinking people into view. These intuitive people are very intriguing. Along with the independent investigative journalists of our time is found a sharing of information, awareness, memories, ideas, intuition,  imagination, realization, and hope. Through conversations, interviews, and lectures it has been possible to recognize a reality of direction and purpose in the cause of promoting the common good, and transcending the daunting difficulties of our time.

Now conviction. The conviction of accessing a faith based progressive life of transcendence and ascension built on the the coherent stories regarding Life, life on earth, and my spot in it evolves. It feels abundantly possible to activate in an awareness building solution without having to offend the sensibilities of those around. The stall prayer filled pause is working it’s benefit in calm. In this calm the starting point is clear. I cannot afford to be controlled or subsumed by the control agents that are clearly making this domination effort. To this end I state clearly that I do not permit that to happen. I do not give permission to anyone or anything to take my vitality, energies, or imagination power. While the onslaught continues I repeat, “I do not give permission for any entity to steal the properties of my life. I will choose with That which I will align!”

What’s to say that the path of technological industrial progression has been the only or right one. There are certainly unexplored as well as discouraged paths of tech discovery and application. What about alternate moral ethical application? This inquiry produces a queer feeling of suspicion. I’m suspicious that the exploitation of limited natural resources, and the corresponding blame for the negative effects of industrialization is reaching it’s climax. Pondering the seminal crossroad spots in the industrial time line spotlight the butterfly effect. The butterfly effect of Wardenclyffe Tower is the point of departure for this consideration. What was happening with that tower? What energy potential was it tapping? Was this to be a free energy enterprise? Was the idea stolen, hoarded, and twisted to be used for the benefit of a few at the top of the industrial pyramid? Nikola Tesla’s story is big about intuitive genius, and how his technology was stolen. The potential for a shape shifted timeline is immense. Social evolution hinges on critical path choices made by agents of industry. Individual and collective power motives have set the stage for the realization of sustainability, or the lack thereof. Symbolized in Wardenclyffe is the possibility of knowing an entirely different world and social reality. This whole contemplation brings on a feeling of constrictive straight jacket pressure. The pressure of knowing that imagination freedom to benefit the common good is routinely commandeered by the power leveraged few for their own monopolistic inclination. Now how do we, the greater collective, Houdini out of this straight jacket of deprivation and theft?

Lurching for the truth of reality. What is the essence of righteousness? I mean the captains of finance and industry have persuaded us that we would benefit from having, and gain greater life quality by using/possessing their products. In some cases we’re told we need these things. Then we’re blamed for the negative side effects of the self same production. The carbon footprint stuff. This is where we suffer from a story which lacks coherence. Our ability to know ourselves, and our right place depends on the truth of our story, and there is no doubt it’s being withheld, manipulated, distorted, and falsified. This is where we suffer from a weak mythological backbone. Help here is of significant importance. It seems clear we need it. But what will have us want it?

The desperation of our common cause may eventually take hold. With life guidance we see that the collective holds the true power. Real power is totally immaterial! The compass of effective morality sets itself, we follow. Then we see, feel, and execute the principle of balancing personal gain with the common good. We encroach on core coherence as belief systems boil in the refinement vessel of common sense and calm reason. The truth path allows transcendence of credited  difference fabrications, thus synthesizing our stories into a fused story of familiarity to so so many. It’s possible. It’s available. It’s real.

We’re reaching a climax of events which will provide an ultimatum display. The synthetic mythology is a means of knowing each other, realizing a common truth, while our current timeline proceeds with a chance for survivability.

 

The synthetic myth is a truth evaluation

There’s a big difference between low level creation and the Ultimate. Low level creators have the scientific ability to manipulate life, not create it. Not unlike what we see in our world today with genetic modification. There has already begun a debate about what rights the humanoid has?! The point here is that the human race IS an engineered race! ( I recommend Lloyd Pye’s lecture, EVERYTHING YOU KNOW IS WRONG) The engineers are of another race, and most definitely do not have terrestrial restraint. Humans were designed to be a work force, a slave race. A genetic synthesis of terrestrial and extra terrestrial instruction coding. Is there any wonder why slavery is so consistently prominent in recorded human history?

There are devastating consequences to this story. The designer race is still here on earth. And as far as the imagination can creep, it’s difficult to find a place where the master would ever consider the slave as anything but subservient. The inequality is inherent. Through force, manipulation, and control humanity resides in a metaphysical state of bondage as control patterns repeat themselves era after era after era. Gone is the primary resource reason for initially bringing about our engineered inception, however, the vampiric assumption of our vitality proceeds, and the imbalanced relationship of inequality remains. The effort required to maintain control of an increasingly threatened, exploited, and abused population is reaching a zenith. The impact of this effort has a remarkably negative effect on the planet herself, and it will kill almost all indigenous life. In the material sense the world has never seemed smaller, while in the spiritual/ eternal sense the stakes have never seemed higher.

At the risk of sounding philosophic, let’s say that there such a thing as reality. There is a planet earth, and most of us are on it. We have been on earth as a species, and we most likely are now. Here’s a story. The planet is unique. Earth has been teaming with life all over. Through it, with it, in it. The planet earth is alive, and intelligent life forms have, through the millennia, interacted with, and inhabited earth. Some of these living beings have realized earth’s potential, and have collected as much as possible for there own needs and desires. These beings are responsible for a genetic engineering practice which resulted in us, humanity. Humans are a reasonably self sufficient, reproductive species brought into existence to do work. Not unlike an inventor that creates a tool to increase productivity, so to is this human race created to be used. We’re here to work. A slave species whose energies have been considered to be property of their creative masters. Ownership which prevailed then, now, and presumably always. To the chagrin of the master class, however, we slaves have access to an eternal existence quality they no longer know. Ascension, bliss, freedom! An energy of joy which is the high reward promise of Creation Itself. The theft, and denial, of this experience, as well as it’s associated energies, has been the agenda of the slave class master rulers since inception. The perpetuation of the theft programming requires agents to be animated by antilife black field force energy. The story proceeds…

Sitting here listening to Dr. Andrew Wakefield talk about his film Vaxxed From Cover-up to Catastrophe, I am prompted. Dr. Wakefield, with all apparent conviction, lays out the details of a criminal medical cover-up in which members of industry and government knowingly and willingly supply and distribute vaccines that are tainted with toxins. These toxins are dangerous, and are capable of causing serious illness in the people injected with them. The scale and scope of the story hits home. It’s consistent with what I’ve come to believe about the assault from the sky, and through our food and water. There is an entity out there that wants the general population crippled sick! This story is about a huge compromise to the common good and well being. I can feel the fire of fury glowing temperature rise internal. God damn it!!!

Experience here suggests that right about now I lose it. Losing anything like discretion, judgement, stability, and effectiveness at expressing myself the way I  would like to. I mean we’re talking about getting pissed off and lashing out! So now what?

The recent reflection consideration of the possibility of staying calm comes back. Examples come to mind, and I notice that Wakefield is deliberate, measured, and calm. He very much seems full of conviction. Check with the conviction. Check with the internal attitude. A finding. A finding of a trust. It’s the trust that the information, awareness, and knowledge that’s being sought has an innocence about it. While not looking for personal gain argument leverage there has been an unfolding of information that has a real thread of coherence. This story is explaining itself, and it results in the exposure of awareness shared. There’s a purity to that, and it is not self created. Conviction is founded. Confidence grows.

We waited, the checkout line had stalled. The register guy was busy inputting numbers into the lottery machine, and the fellow at the front had a lot of numbers to play. The impatience in the line grew. Muttering discontent spread down the line. When it reached me I made my contribution. My standard lament of the vice of numbers games in the first place. I looked over my shoulder at the face of the dude behind me. He appeared undisturbed. It was like he would have been waiting in this spot regardless of how fast the line moved. He made no comment critical, only nodded his head with it’s tied gray hair.

When I looked back to the front of the waiting line I could not help but notice, through the all window store front, a blue SUV speeding into the parking lot. This guy is in a rush. The SUV turned to pull into an empty parking space right in front of the store. Immediate notice, “He’s not slowing down?!” Suddenly all hell breaks loose! Loud, loud, loud smashing, crashing, reviving, screeching, and screaming. It was not possible to differentiate who was screaming what from what was crashing screaming engine wheels SUV. The vehicle plowed into the store front, lurching, winding. It was sending shattering debris, racks, paper, bottles, glass, bars, and an ATM machine exploding from the impact. I don’t think anyone saw it coming. The sudden crush happened so fast it was impossible to get out of the way. Severely shoved and pushed back, the people were like a bundle of socks being crammed into an overstuffed drawer. As quickly as it started, it stopped.

The three people in front of me had been pushed back into me. I had felt the push pressure forcing me back until we stopped with my rear end in a cooler of sandwiches, and my shoulders pressing the shelf of produce. There was a sweetness fragrance overridden by a pungent burning oder, like burnt hair and plastic. Am I hurt, I wondered? Thinking for a moment in what seemed like a long echo of silence, I remembered seeing a kind of flash from out behind me. And what happened to the guy that had just been there?

The SUV had been stopped. It looked like mangled racks and shelves had stopped it about half way through the store. The driver was climbing out the window screaming, “That’s it! I’ve had it! I’ve fuckin’ had it! I’m not taking this shit anymore! Fuck all of you! Fuck everybody! I’m not taking it anymore!” The cashier was on the phone, And there was a big guy with a bloody shirt climbing over the broken pile to the drivers door. The big guy grabbed the driver. The two of them grappled for a moment. Then the big guy, who now seemed more enraged than the driver, had a strong hold on the maniac SUV driver. This big dude punched the driver flush in the face. His fist in he face made a squishing sound, and the driver’s body went weak. Then punch, punch after repeated punch! Squish, squish, sickening squish! It seemed like the was gonna kill him!

There was repeated exclamatory questioning. There was sobbing. There was quiet. I noticed that the fellow with the tied gray hair was limping over a twisted rack. There was a young man on the floor, sort of pinched in. He was saying to the gray haired guy, “Thank you. Thank you. If you hadn’t… I might have been… been…” His words trailed in tears. The man with the tied gray hair put his hand on the young guy’s shoulder and moved close to his ear. The young man looked up, stopped crying, and then displayed the appearance of calm relaxation that defied the circumstance. Bliss?!? Curiosity rose. What’s with this guy with the tied hair? I asked him, “How are you able to stay so calm?” He looked directly at me. At that moment the world fell silent. His eyes were alight, and he was bright himself while the periphery seemed to shade. I heard him say, “You know.”

The calculation proceeds in order to fulfill the individual lust, desire, and demand. Once convinced on the course of self interest, catastrophe builds. Built on the neglect of any common good. The hero was heard to say, “Never again will my ambition be frustrated!” He knew what it meant. The image of success relied on key timing, and object material appearance. The escort had to be it in full sex appeal, and the object of collective envy. All trappings needed to be of prestige. Only categorical success rates would do. The rates on accounts, the privilege, the ornaments, and the social climb arc of romantic arrival. Built on the carnal platform of pleasure, the end justifies the means.

He is reminded of the protagonist he can’t dismiss, and the insult to his ego image. He had felt humiliated and inferior in the face of the calm together agent of authenticity that overwhelmed him. Now angst rises to release the notion and framework of honor. At all costs the image promotion becomes paramount. His impatience to impress forces the issue into obsession. “Just wait!”

With no regard for the values of conscience a true insistence drive proceeds. The all important first person flexes it’s way into comprehension while ethics, morality, decency, and honor become adjustable. “I deserve better! I’m not doing anything anyone else wouldn’t do! I deserve to be happy, I’m a good person.” With that he allowed the virus to spread. His self created malware was now loose. The virus will be linked to his partner who will be discredited and removed in disgrace, leaving a vacancy that he is prepared to fill with the malware virus antidote at the ready. The frame job will be complete when his own heroic savior role will leap frog him into the power chair of corporate command.

The stage was set for fail safe fraud, and now the trigger. All that’s left to do is provide the theater response of innocent dismay, sorry surprise, and the best humble acceptance of promotion he could make believe. The coup will be successful, and he will take his rightful place up the food chain hierarchy of self righteousness. Coincidentally a parasitic nation breathed deeply and swelled with corruptive delight. Another soul sold.

Right there in front of me, I heard him say, “Anything is possible, however, there’s an issue is about having been exposed to generational subterfuge training. The degeneracy  of the mind program that’s left most of us with crippled imaginations. Not only can we not believe most of our everyday truth, we can’t conceive of it. There’s a disconnect from the essence witness of our dreams, and the contemplation practice meant to inspire and amaze. For the most part, we are clueless of the context of where our lives are, and how they’re unfolding. We’re lost.”

The room fell silent. Quiet in the way it gets immediately before an accident. A momentary pause as fate anticipates shift. Then… Clamor!! Crash!! Rush and sensory bombardment ensue. The internal turbulence which makes ration, judgement and patience impossible. It is near pure reaction. I can’t tell if the volume is coming from within or without. This degeneracy idea hits home. In a cinematic way I hear my voice. The voice is exclaiming, “What in god’s name are you talking about!? Where do you get this crap!? Lost!?”

What happened next is difficult to recall. I remember thinking that this dude was mocking me. The next thing I know is that I lunge at him, and seemingly hit air with no balance. I perceived and felt an intense threat. It was like a challenge to my baseline belief and security, putting my identity pride on the line. This damn ‘know it all’ stranger had triggered an automatic reflexive response of contempt and condemnation. It was a compromise conclusion. He was now the instant target of a building attack, “Friggin jerk!!! You get off on pissing people off insulting!?!?” I remember the feeling of falling, and the thought of grabbing. Desperation flooded, and a point had to be proved in prideful image. Reason no longer mattered or seemed relevant. I was falling alone, sensing loss, total loss, in full identity crisis. Panic?! My periphery began to darken. It was like looking through a tube at the protagonist. Hurry! Fury! The feeling fills in that all is lost. Humiliated in loss. Let down and forsaken. I’m lost, lost to all meaning. Fear. Hyper fear!

The next thing I know is the sensation of cold cool coming through the stinging feeling in my lips. I hear Carol say, “Have you lost your mind!? You just attacked a complete stranger! Your lucky you didn’t get arrested or really beat up.” I was confused, but I knew one thing for sure. It was something he had said which could not be reconciled. I’m going to restore my pride, and this jerk, and any like him, are going to pay.