Original

Who would deny that popular history includes characters of great material fortune, and that these characters have had a profound interest in the development of culture? What describes today’s world better, harmony and charity, or conflict and hostility? Perhaps microscopically is known the former, macroscopically it’s hard to miss the latter. There’s big component of imbalance and insecurity characterizing modern world culture. The power players influence deserves questioning. Anti egalitarian attitudes and structures defy all organic justice, yet it’s the basis of systematic control. Legions of sovereign beings comply with power pressure due to acceptance, equality, and security distortions. Sunken density materialist forces have no power to make or break the free thought soul being, however, it’s influence is persuasive in tempting those same beings to choose to give their essence away, thus setting the stage for subjugation and theft. . Hush! Hush! The parlance of power has originated and proceeded with a purpose; to deliberately misdirect popular thought focus. All variables of control rely on the estrangement of connectivity to truth and Source. Any compromise, or disclosure, of the structure of secretive deceit jeopardizes the locally omnipresent complexes of domination control. Truth is underpinned by Truth, and any ascension toward meaningful enlightenment means doom to the material cause. Hence the intense determination to keep the truth about human destiny, and sovereignty theft tied up in secrecy. These truths  must stay obscured. By persuasion, man’s present curse is a material resolve that has us largely remain here in corporeal prison, delaying freedom release. As long as lost souls of man at large continue their confusion quest of carnal objective, is as long will continue the feeding of the hollow integrity draconian beings of vitality consumption. The survival prerequisite is to break free of power endeavor programing, and indeed of the actual power grip. This, the material powers that be, keep hushed in secretive longevity. This dynamic is unsustainable, and can not progress indefinitely without severe breakdown.

A tech/evolutionary singularity is at hand. The singularity has an inherent inevitability. Us, our environment, and everything in our realm is in a cosmic energetic event current. We’re no more able to escape this current than one would be able to escape the Niagra River after it goes over the falls. If clinging to the plastic program induced beliefs of what we’ve been persuaded to think reality is about, we’re at the mercy of the intention of those the that fed us the program to begin with, and the fate ensuing, which is very dark. To be sure, power controlling grids have track beam grabbed innumerable souls, and directed them into a death realm of cannabalistic consumption. Now fate collides in singularity. The exhaustion of this energetic incarnation of Mother Earth, and the gross exploitation of her resources put us on the cusp of the energetic shift; the life-death-life-end-beginning-end cycle. Of course, being on the cusp of a singularity is to be within it’s event horizon, which corresponds with the parabolic, exponential, cosmic Nantucket sleigh ride of events that cannot be avoided. The state we’re in as individuals, at this point, determines survivability, and it’s variable by choice. Actuality accuracy, realistic context, working faith, and identity truth are indispensable components for the authenticity depth which benefit survival, and override secrecy fraud. There’s more than mere mortality at stake in the unfolding witness to perceptions well beyond conception; any control program formed reality expectation will largely  be blown wide open leaving actual soul survivability hanging in the balance of madness and tolerance. This is what we have to thank our societal culture controllers for, catastrophic failure, shock, unpreparedness and huge vulnerability.

This is the sovereignty clause. It’s being claimed. There are dark powers that be that really are committed to feeding the black, and we really are the fodder. As evolutionary tech reaches virtual mad race insanity, and devolution verticals to infinity, the paramount importance of decisions become critical. Power agency paranoia knows no bound, whether it’s Herod’s orders for murder, or Saturn devouring his young. The almighty lack of restraint of the kleptocratic is compelled to secrecy beyond any point of bound. While the wicked have forsaken any choice, ours remains. In spite of the dire state lateness of the hour, flickers of promise refuse to be snuffed by those that do not fear disclosure, are willing to challenge convention, have the courage to abandon traditional material objectives, and love enough to courageously face oblivion in faith. Revelation remarks in languages suggested by beats of rhythm acknowledged by the heart, allowing the necessary lies of progressive systematic secrecy programs to dissipate without qualification. They have no inherent power, only the power we choose to give them. The unstoppable catapult through the unity point of the singularity is an energetic rebirth. By exercising compassion, and serving the common good we work on behalf of raising our, as well as, the collective energetic state. Fortune favors the boldly loving, and the new earth shall be for those that can stand the shock, love without judgement, and choose without self. Help where we can, and allow helpers to minister our need. Perhaps the best kept secret is that we’re not meant to endure perpetual threat, ill health, material fortune, and gross exploitation. We are an abundant miraculous natural resource. We are meant to be in harmony with what is. And our existence is only bounded by the limitations we agree to. The hope abundant and plentiful in refrain from SISTERS AND BROTHERS… “We will all be together for ever and ever, when we make it to the promised land.”   In service, justice, peace.

 

There it became. A pin prick in the fabric of eternity. Through which flowed a verity of reality beyond any limit of explanation, and governed by the desperation of survival. Oh but for the warnings of yearning to remark sublime an amnesia upon arrival. Gasp, cough-spit, gasp, cough-glow begins the treacherous charity lifeline of disastrous prosperity. If beneficent purity is left un-mangled, the development of metabolic dynamo correspondence for truth, and destiny, records ascending memorial, and the outcome of determination includes fulfillment with requisite despair, not denial; alluring a grasp of bliss afforded by choice to not at last relinquish to the harsh conviction of fear or threat. This now, by choice, is life approaching fulness in honor of disparity and harmonious reward. Together communal bereavement complexes elevate and master corruptive defects. It’s ok. We’re here, and your alive.

Alive, alive, alive and more; without any warning there’s a knock on the door. Electronically controlled, disfigured, and maimed all together by prejudice identified by name; collected and grabbed in a rote driven refrain, uprooted, disgraced, to never remain. Oh, but a hell it’s possible to know; what for god’s sake reason why now must we go? This is the surprise of a rumor transponding the land, scuttling the sea, and shying lightly a distorted sick known invisible history. Another genocide field has opened it’s craw. We may never notice, it took us too long. While willfully blind in critique of a fraud; a flagrant foul malevolence devoured our own. The question now beckons, and beckons out loud, what the hell are we choosing? Which side are we on?

 

What’s actually worth remembering? The truth!?

The building blocks of life, and the evolution of the soul are a function of the Original Thought, of dreams, decisions and choices. In the free will universe, Life has it’s expression. It’s in our DNA. It’s remembered through time immemorial in the dynamics of life code evolution. Is, have been, are, to become. It’s the Creative, and the agreements of the beings proceeding from agent to agency, from individual to group and beyond as potentially harmonious growth companies, or conflicted death spiral destruction industries. As experience happens, and rendered as truth based belief, the sacred majesty of belonging to truth may faithfully unfold unbounded beauty and progress. With further creative enterprise sentients, we work to become fully evolved star children that can, and will, spread joy promise expression development universally. Coded with the promise, we are the truth. Unless…

Confusion lies forestall destiny. Minds that influence consciousness are obviously subject to persuasion. Unless founded in authenticity, reality, and truth the consciousness being languishes. There is no life without choice. If there were only one choice, there would be no point nor merit. This is our lives!! The basis of them is founded in the codes which are largely memory. What’s being remembered, and what’s being integrated into our evolutionary memory bank of the DNA!? Fact based truth, or confusion based crap? Our being is on the line. All beings are on the line! Consciousness is in the balance. And the actuality quantum code of any type of spirit growth direction relies on the quality of right choices made, and subsequent memory attached. We rise and fall as eternity beings based on the effectiveness and ability of right choose, right now. Disinformation not only handicaps, it prepares the receiver for fatality flaw. There is a lie source. It’s the low source, the dark source, the E consumption source, the death source, the Devil itself source. The influence of the Devil is running full throttle in the modern world in agents of industrial madness, vampirism and disgrace. There are so many confounding untruths perpetuated about us that our choices are disfigured by wrong thought awareness, full sight blindness, deliberate denial, dominant materialism, and desensitized death permission. We don’t realize, or know/care, about tremendous suffering in mass, including our own! The memory of ourselves is skewed, contaminated, incomplete, and wanting. I mean, we don’t even consider ourselves as part of nature anymore for crying out loud. And we’re all so busy remembering nonsense, like what’s the best smart phone case, and forgetting essentials like pollination rates. This path leaves our true destiny out of reach while tainting our DNA, insuring our own loss, and sacrificing advanced potential right. This is not ok. Life based on reality; true reality, or the honest pursuit of it is the only one that’s sustainable. Reality based life or bust. This is no selfish insistence of the here and now. This is the recognition that there’s work to do to grow rightly, spiritually, purposefully for the here and hereafter. The rejection the Devil, and all it’s dark damn works is on here. Man this getting tough. If there’s a dawn to break, may it break fast. It’s getting late, very late.

 

After hearing very alarming, dire, news about the state of the world, and the survivability of the near term future, I woke with an intense sense of dread. This is what’s left of my survival instinct.

And I quote, Jerry Garcia-Robert Hunter, “Ain’t no time to hate, barely time to wait,” Perhaps as a type of mantra this can help in the activation of a survival cause which will defy this very ordinary “go about my business as usual” life which is proceeding right now. In ordinary terms, this life is very good… In actual reality terms, it’s like a blindfolded walk off the plank.

God have Mercy on us all.

Gotta love those that place themselves in positions of authority, and then tell you you’re truth…   Any wonder why we’re seeking an alternative source!? Independence of mind… Independence of spirit…

Haven’t been down this way in a while. Gonna commute for a couple days to do this small project down by the Sound. The sun is just dawning over the horizon as I pull up to a red light. The sun’s sky path is marked with a cloud X just above it in the sky. The light turns green. The first car in line is slow to move. Right behind him is another motorist that gestures radically and lays on the horn. Just like that we’re moving again. The news radio is on. The NY traffic report comes on, and it sounds like a nightmare. Delay after delay on top of delay. The reporter says that the wreck has been cleared, but the damage is done. The weather guy comes on joking. It will be unseasonably warm with near record highs. Now comes the business news. The Dow is sitting at like 20,600. I remember it being a big deal when it cracked 10,000. The line of cars I’m in heading south in on route 58 in is moving slow, and I have to take a piss. We could be doing 50 mph, but instead it’s only like 35. I’m aggravated. Up here on the right at the orchard there’s a parking lot. No reason to not pull in there, and get some relief.

The lot is empty. Pulling all the way to the far side in back there’s privacy. Right back in the saddle, and off again. Good, those slow pokes are gone, and I feel better. At the exit of the parking lot I stop. Looking north up 58 it appears as though the lane is clear. Hitting the accelerator to go I get a strange premonition that I missed something. There’s a sudden numbness in the ears. A sense? I don’t know. Really quick the air goes silent as my glance darts left. It appears as though the side window is blurred. There’s a horn blare followed by the unmistakable sound of the rubber, the road! Holy crap! On coming traffic!? The sided window blur becomes clear, and the horn scream goes silent. Time seems to freeze. A half life time delay ends with pulverizing intensity. A loud sick body boosh and sprinkle blast of spider crashed glass splinter spray explodes all over, and on to me. Moving now by force, the vehicle is screeching in an un-steered way of momentous collision inertia. There’s a constriction squeeze on my torso, left shoulder, and right arm. It’s tight. The compression gets wicked tight with searing pressure, then release. Silence with a sharp crack. More silence tainted with soft stress whispers of a thermal variety; like a heat register heating or cooling. Even more extended silence now interrupted by a drop bong as if a mason jar was dropped on a brick, and a light bulb popped. The accident is over basically before my awareness of it starting.

In the next assessment moments I wondered if I’d been hurt. Moving, moving, I’m moving. I can turn. The legs move. The arms move too. I can turn, but the door is crashed stuck; it won’t open. Focusing now on the interior, it appears unrecognizable. I get the seat belt off. The passenger side door is reachable, and it opens. With my feet now on the ground surreality sets in. Everything seems cinematic. Not everything is in focus. There are big confusion questions beating and repeating in the mind. “What happened?” “What?!” “What’s Happened!?”

A mangeled gray, green, blue pickup, with a hiss, stands stopped in the roadway. It’s in the middle straddling a double yellow line. The drivers’ seat occupant looks invisible in smoky silhouette. He’s gaining frantic. He’s frantic! He’s trying to get out. It’s his head! The head is open across the top, and across the face. I realize that there are others here parked at the scene. A responding motorist is imploring the injured pickup driver to stay down, to stay still. “Sir. Sir! Stay still! Stay still! There’s an ambulance on the way.” A man is standing in front of me, and a woman is right beside me. She says, “You’ve been in an accident.” and he says, “You’re in shock.” I hear myself say, “I looked to see… What!? I didn’t see…” The sound of my voice trails out. Then these words are known, but I can’t tell where they came from. “Time is short. Recognize. The eyes see, the mind is blind. You may not have seen it, but it was right there.”

The doctrine that God is in the world has an important practical corollary – the sacredness of Nature, and the sinfulness and folly of man’s overweening efforts to be her master rather than her intelligently docile collaborator. Sub-human lives and even things are to be treated with respect and understanding, not brutally oppressed to serve our human ends.

Aldous Huxley- The Perennial Philosophy

Maybe it’s not crazy to think you would live through an epochal time. The now is eternal, and we’re all connected in it; though in every day terms it seems that most would not realize it. Eschatological events are building in concentration and frequency. From the seismic to the atmospheric; from the radioactive to the acidic; from the miasmic to the anoxic; from spiking sterility to rapid extinction, every day brings waves of the racing news and mournful images of suffering, death, and dying. I’m sitting here right now numbingly astonished. In spite of familiarization with end times current events, and staying up to speed with world catastrophe stories, the sudden surprise does not wear off. It’s like perpetually waking up from a most unpleasant dream/nightmare. More than the mind blowing realization that the living planet is in full on collapse, is the remarkable astonishment of the widespread blindness and indifference denial prevailing among us. Is it possible that rapturous events could sneak up on us?  Forget possible, or likely, it’s actually snuck right up to full blown obvious without the majority having any more than a hint of it’s approach. It’s astonishing we’re at this point. It’s as if extinction and total conventional end time finality has been compartmentalized as being impossible. We’re left thinking these are simply like mythological metaphors, concepts, or theories. Uh oh, talk about underestimated.

Running parallel with our massive denial is a self delusion that is impressive in it’s power and magnitude. As blind as we are to our reality and truth, we double down, arrogantly, and fortify our troubles by insisting on our prestige position of having reached the zenith of evolution. Modern man is his own god, and is exercising his own right to bull shit himself at levels approaching colossal. On that note, let’s here cover one criminally concealed foot note story nearly lost to popular awareness; the end pumping death furnace Fukushima, Japan. This story is, and has been consistently,  minimized like it’s like another “oil spill” about which one should suspend reality and do the same thing that Dorothy, the Tin Man, Lion, and Scarecrow were told to do by the lever pulling Wizard that had just had his curtain pulled back. “Don’t pay any attention to what might matter!!!”

Here we stand, sit, and try to make ends meet at the dawn of Aquarius on a Mother ship that is going down in contamination and radioactive fury. Meanwhile, we dismiss apocalypse with the characteristically idiotic insult arrogance of a numbskull jackass that thinks he can dive off a building into a pile of ping pong balls and be ok. We’re speeding up to a penultimate jump off spot, and the last thing we’re all going to hear is the deafening silence of shock. There’s a kicker to this plot. The perpetrators (perpa traitors) of our demise scurry off to their “safe places”, either off planet or underground, while the rest of us try to cope with the holocaust nuclear winter which laps at everything with the sickness of ice age fire. The absorption of the seeds of our demise come on with every breath, wash, bite, and swallow, as well as, with every report from our trusty media “news agencies” which feed and fortify the delusion and denial. With extreme good fortune our experience also includes awake members of our populations which are ringing the alarm. While these brave agents of disclosure truth are shouted down as conspiracy pariah, their wake up efforts are working. It’s clear that there is decency in the deluded. There is still honor, respect, and selflessness left to tap. Well intended, reasonably good hearted, responsible people are waking up, and moving to wake up others (not easy). Critical mass awareness often feels like it is out of reach, but if it is caught, it will actually result the sure willingness to face the doomsday fate which is now facing us. May we face it before it’s too late…

When you realize that fundamental components of your reality are far from okay, you are in the cross hairs of majesty and madness. This sink or swim passage place is difficult to negotiate. The difficulties originate from the propensity to negativity, fear, and loathing. Stated plainly, I strongly believe that the parameters of the reality in which I find residence are collapsing under the weight of purposeful kleptomania driven calamity, and secretly obvious domination programming. I know this is a crisis time, and I’m finding remarkable difficulty preventing the imagination from railroading into the fear fury hostility realm. The madness of this mind set is that, when in it, I make a contribution to the problem of unfolding catastrophe I desperately wish wasn’t. I would much prefer to apply what imaginative powers I have to the uprising of soluble miracle power, which right now seems immediately urgent. How to make this definite choice, and make it stick?

First, I have to break the denial about the fact that the world, and those on it, are under attack. Attacks of multi various forms from eco contamination to societal/cultural exploitation and extermination. Then I’ve got to admit that there have been, and continue to be, massive perception programs, or misperception programs, at work on us, and me. These programs of control strictly channel free thought into paradigms of control, ultra limited originality, and warped destructive creativity. These programs have jilted my perceptions and subjugated my awareness. This is a potential point of big hope, however, because with some reflection I find that the mass mind crimes don’t, and didn’t, work on everybody. Dreamers, entrepreneurs, artists, and salvation workers have stood out through the generations. Some of the names come to mind, Hendrix, Thoreau, Washington, Rousseau, Teresa, Twain, Orwell… a list of grand proportion, and growing with any application of earnest. How about choosing to allow them to work on me, and for me in inspiration and hope, avoiding madness and imagining majesty? It’s the intrepid art and expression of these and other authentics which may resonate with the bold beyond that exists within, thus catalyzing the solution contribution available for me to make. It boils down to this. There is no time to spare in becoming the best selves we can be. We need help, and to be of help. This is about compassion, service, contemplation of the wonders of salvation, and expressive antidote living.

O Creator have mercy on us all.

The next thing I know is that we are in an unfamiliar neighborhood. It’s like an average out of the way middle class type place. Houses line the street, and each one is separated by modest yards and driveways. I’m among a group that is here by direction. There’s an understanding among us all that we are to criminally destroy this particular two story house. I don’t know any of the other people in the group tasked with the take down, or who’s house it is. It’s hard to tell how many of us there are, however, it’s a big group, and every time you turn around there’s another new face. No one seems at all conflicted about what we are to do. This is an arson job, but for some reason we’re to do a partial demolition before setting it on fire.

I know that I’ve witnessed the entire place being dowsed, loaded, and packed with incendiary and accelerant. When it’s ignited it will be a virtual explosion. I realize that the part of the plan I’m unaware of is the detonation. Walking across the much demolished second floor I get the sense of the impending inevitable ignition. This place is about to go up in flames. Actually, I’m right now anticipating the trigger spark which sets this whole place ablaze. I’m out. I’m standing here, kind of metaphorically, looking back at the semi wrecked house. I can see people moving around inside. These are the same people that were prepping this place with the incendiary. They’re not working anymore. They seem to be inspecting the work we’ve done, almost like they’re acting out a crime scene investigation movie scene. I have an anonymous relationship with my coworkers. In spite of feeling strongly that the place is about to blow, I don’t immediately leave the side yard. For some reason communication with those left behind is not possible. I realize that we never really had communicated. Sensing the impending fire storm I can feel any commitment to remain go away.

In spite of knowing that I’ve been a cursory part of the plan to set this place on fire, I no longer feel connected to it. In my mind I’m thinking that the people left  must know the danger of having the place blow at any time. I can’t figure why they continue to go through the motions of making a show. Do they know the timing?  Do they think they can get out after it blows? Why would you want to? Not only am I not communicating with my coconspirators, there is a dwindling feeling of wanting to. I grab my hammer. It feels more comfortable in my hand than I remember. I start walking away from the building we’ve wrecked and made ready for inferno. Purpose builds with each stride. With each step the feeling grows that what I’m leaving behind is a great curiosity. Curious, for sure, in many ways. What was this all about? How many, if any, got out before it blew? Did anyone survive the blast/ burn? There’s no doubt it’s going to be intense. Stop! Without turning around I begin to wonder…