With permission from
by Dylan Charles, Waking Times
Feb 20, 2017
What would it look like if our culture died out, as it was dying out, somewhere between coherency and harmony and the end point of chaos and dissolution?
Would it perhaps resemble the divisive, vitriolic, excessively controlling, self-destructive world we live in today?
Often pondering the future, contemporary sage Terence McKenna spoke on this matter in many of his talks and writings, frequently chastising culture as a supplanted psychic operating system which dooms us by failing to incorporate the novel and chaotic elements of the human experience.
“This is something, culture is not your friend. Culture is for other people’s convenience and the convenience of various institutions, churches, companies, tax collection schemes, what have you. It is not your friend. It insults you. It disempowers you. It uses and abuses you. None of us are well treated by culture.” ~ Terence McKenna
Elaborating on the future and the stultifying effects of culture, McKenna sat down with Ralph Abraham and Rupert Sheldrake in a talk at Esalen in 1992.
Some 25 years ago, his remarks at this conference are particularly prescient and ironic against today’s backdrop of social insanity.
“As we approach the millennium its going to be increasingly important to, if not control, certainly regulate and monitor the irrational element among us. Which is a curious concept because largely we are the irrational element.” ~ McKenna
His premise is that Western culture will ultimately obliterate itself for lack of meaningful change and for failure to adequately react to the problems we face as we create them.
As he points out, the 20th century produced almost zero new meaningful social philosophies to adapt to the changes brought about in our world by the industrial and technological revolutions, thus limiting our vision of the future, hindering our evolution, and aiding in societal entropy.
“It’s the disgrace of 20th century social philosophy that the only two innovative social ideas the 20th century can claim as its own are Freudian psychoanalysis… and fascism. These are the two authentic ideological contributions of the 20th century.” ~ McKenna
As scholar Joseph Campbell is famous for affirming, myth, symbol, and story, beyond language, are the universal communicative tools of the human psyche, a realization which helps to understand the development of the individual and of the collective.
The images and symbols on which we are focused, whether consciously or subconsciously, are the foundation of whatever future we construct, be it a livable future or otherwise.
McKenna understood that the guiding images and symbolism of today have been regressive for far too long, indicating the historically inevitable descent towards ruin.
At present, the music, entertainment and propaganda industries are rife with images of violence and spiritual annihilation.
Our institutions, even our currencies, are polluted with the dark symbolism of the occult, and zooming out a bit, our collective conscience is fixated on images of domination, destruction and death, which drive even our technological evolution.
“What we’re really caught in is a clash of values, where the traditionalist side is getting an unhealthy handicap because of calendrical coincidence. Just being born or living through the clothes of the second millennium poses all kinds of problems for societies that are trying to preserve humanist social values.
“For centuries now, we’ve been focused on symbols of destruction, guided by symbols that look only to the past, not to the future, therefore our psychic awareness is antiquated and incapable of adaptation.” ~ McKenna
But who among us is capable of renewing our vision, when the highest social institutions of our day are so obviously and backwardly misguided and corrupt?
“I think the recent election in England, and the election we’re enduring here prove that we cannot expect to hear any kind of meaningful reformist rhetoric from politicians and have there be any hope of it actually being winning at the polls. So that leaves dissidents like ourselves to try and offer something other than, you know, UFO rescue or utter despair as the two poles of the political dialogue.” ~ McKenna, 1992
The answer is the individual. It is you.
In the absence of meaningful leadership, and in the presence of mutually assured destruction, we are free to engage in individualism as the last stand against the rise of a technocratic control matrix.
In this light, the demise of the present culture is our greatest opportunity to incorporate everything the human race has thus far learned and achieved on planet earth, and to employ it in the creation of something extraordinarily more livable than we have now.
“We have to create culture, don’t watch TV, don’t read magazines, don’t even listen to NPR. Create your own roadshow.” ~ Terence McKenna
About the author: Dylan Charles is a student and teacher of Shaolin Kung Fu, Tai Chi and Qi Gong, a practitioner of Yoga and Taoist arts, and an activist and idealist passionately engaged in the struggle for a more sustainable and just world for future generations. He is the editor of WakingTimes.com, the proprietor of OffgridOutpost.com, a grateful father and a man who seeks to enlighten others with the power of inspiring information and action. He may be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.
With permission from
by Jon Rappoport
January 21, 2017
This article goes to many places. I think you’ll find a place that works for you.
I’ve been investigating and reporting on deep medical fraud for 29 years. I’ve been around the block a few hundred times. I’ve spoken with scientists who work for the government and universities, and the media operatives who support them. I know the game.
If Robert F Kennedy Jr is, indeed, given the green light by President Trump to investigate vaccine safety, he’s going to need a truck and a chain and DOJ threats of prosecution to drag key CDC scientists into the light and elicit specific statements from them.
Even then, the odds are these scientists will keep repeating the party line: vaccines are overwhelmingly safe; they have no connection to autism or other neurological damage; the science is settled.
Kennedy could run up against an organized wall of silence—scientists refusing to speak with him, on the basis that he isn’t qualified to make judgements in their “field.”
In that case, he will need subpoena power, for starters.
Many years ago, I interviewed Jim Warner, a White House policy analyst in the Reagan administration. He had been trying to obtain medical-research information from the federal National Institutes of Health. He told me he was given the absolute cold shoulder: “If ever I’ve been tempted to believe in socialism, science has disabused me of that. These guys [at NIH] assume that it’s their show. They just assume it.”
Arrogance par excellence. Scientists rebuff the White House with a yawn.
Fortunately, Kennedy is a relentless investigator. He understands how science is corrupted and paid for. And the ace in the deck is this: there is already enough evidence in the open record to refute the CDC’s claim of vaccine safety.
Trump has blazed a trail of rejecting major media. As a result of his merciless attacks, press outlets are going mad pushing numerous outlandish fake stories. They’re ripe for further incursions on their territory.
In the past, this was the pattern: an outsider enters the scene and accuses the government of vast fraud; media operators assemble their usual cast of sordid characters, who dismiss the charges; everybody goes home and the story dies.
But that’s not working anymore. Media pomposity is exposed as fakery. Millions of people see through the ruse.
The media emperor is naked. He can prance around and around, but his fundamental nakedness keeps compounding the joke.
Truth be told, as their financial positions sink into dire red ink, press operations are trapped. Why?
Because they are partners with the high-level criminals whose activities are the very stories the public wants to know about.
Reporting on these crimes in great depth, day after day, would resuscitate the newspapers and broadcast networks. But that will never happen.
For example, these crimes:
* The Federal Reserve/a clandestine private corporation.
* Medically caused death.
* Toxic vaccines.
* Trillions of dollars of missing US government money.
* The power of the Trilateral Commission over US government policy.
* The covert implementation of the UN agenda of destruction in US communities.
And a hundred more issues.
Expose these down to the core, and people would buy newspapers off the rack like they buy coffee and beer and video games and cell phones and gasoline and underwear and toilet paper and lipstick and fast food. The Times would have to schedule extra press runs just to keep up with the demand. Its financial bottom line would soon look like Christmas.
You could talk to the publisher of the New York Times and present him with an ironclad plan for pulling his paper out of its deep financial hole, based on covering true stories like those above, and you would find no joy, because he would rather go down with the ship than go up against the Matrix.
The Times and other hoary media outlets live by the rule of limited hangout. In intelligence parlance, that means admitting a small piece of the truth in order to hide the rest.
“We’ll show you a tree in the forest, but not the forest.”
I know how it works, because as a reporter I’ve been there. I’ve approached editors of various media outlets with stories that crack the trance, and I’ve had those stories tossed back at me.
“We’re just not interested,” they say. “This isn’t our kind of piece.” Or: “Well, we already covered that.” But they didn’t cover it. They did a limited hangout on it. They ran a story that exposed one tiny corner of a whole bloody mess.
I say this—as simple fact—if any intelligent, aggressive, truly independent investigator were the managing editor of the New York Times, and if he were given free rein, he would have that paper back in the black in a year. He would have it roaring on all cylinders. He would have people fighting each other in the streets to grab the last copy off the newsstand. Journalism schools all over the country would close down in shame. Because he would be running stories that would crack the whole rotting edifice of cartel-control along many fronts, and he would be filling up a planned vacuum of truth with fire.
A decade ago, here is what a working reporter for a major paper told me: “We know what stories we can’t cover. Nobody needs to prep us. Our editors know, too. Otherwise, they’d never get to be editors.”
A player in a non-profit group once told me I could have a job with a paper on the east coast. In a roundabout way, he hinted at what they were looking for. In five minutes, I saw the handwriting on the wall. Essentially, the editor was searching for a reporter who would cover politics in Central America. The stories would have to favor the repressive governments in power. The basic cover was: these leaders were fighting the good fight against Communism. The death squads they were sending out, in cooperation with the CIA, were freedom fighters. And of course, any mention of cocaine trafficking as a means for obtaining weapons was off-limits.
None of this was spelled out. But the message was clear. They wanted a propaganda specialist. If I, as an up and coming reporter, decided to play ball, I could advance up the ladder.
Apparently, some travel was necessary. But I knew I could turn out reams of copy without ever leaving my apartment, because I grasped the fundamental angle I was supposed to pursue. Needless to say, I turned down the offer.
It was the first time I fully realized how easy the job of reporting could be. Assemble a list of reliable sources (who would support the mandatory point of view), walk right into a prepared group of corporate and think-tank allies, pull down copy from wire services, and re-write stories in a way that bolstered the idea that American Empire was really “spreading democracy” to the less fortunate. A walk in the park.
Twenty years later, I saw the same overall pattern in hundreds of major-media stories—but the point of view and the mandate had changed. Now it was all about Globalism. The covert op was the takedown of America, in order to squash the last vestige of political freedom and integrate the nation in “a new economic order.”
However, over the mountains, a new dawn was rising: the Internet. Independent media outlets. The resistance.
It was immediately obvious that, unless someone could shut this new creature down, major media would have no way to challenge the invasion. Independent news sources would gradually wreck MSM financial bottom lines.
Fronting for Globalist princes, Big News would see their bias exposed time and time again. The blowback on them would be enormous.
Trapped and corned like rats, they would attack, but their efforts would only compound their problem.
Then a populist named Donald Trump strolled on to the scene. He knew major media were suffering great losses. He knew online media were in the ascendance. He had people like Steve Bannon (Breitbart) who were bringing him up to speed. He saw how Matt Drudge was obliterating traditional news sources, even while (selectively) linking to them. A revolution was in progress.
Trump had the right stuff for this situation, because he didn’t care about offending people. He was mercurial, reckless; an opportunist. He could fly by the seat of his pants. He realized where and how, in America, the Globalists were causing great damage.
Trump accelerated the fall of major media from their thrones.
People around the world, untold millions, thought to themselves, “Trump is finally giving major media what they deserve.”
Giving the major media what they deserve is a force to be reckoned with, because there is no effective response to it. Nothing works. Who can lead the fight to preserve mainstream news? Answer: mainstream news. That isn’t going to go anywhere, because more and more people are rejecting the mainstream wholesale.
Think of major media as a ship. In full view of the passengers, the captain has just steered it into a shore of high rocks. The craft is beginning to tilt, and it’s taking on water. As the passengers scramble to safety on the beach, the captain is yelling, “Don’t leave, come back, everything is all right, I didn’t do anything wrong, it’s your fault, you’re too stupid to understand the correct principles of navigation!”
Translation: “I’m committing suicide. Go down with me.”
As a reporter starting out in the 1980s, one of my first glimpses of trouble involved a few of the papers I was writing for: they were definitely on the political Left, but at the same time they were businesses. You only had to look at the ads choking the pages to see that. They were capitalist enterprises. But they would never fully admit that. They were operating under a self-induced, self-serving delusion about fundamental economics. Eventually, larger publishers bought them out, and a few of the old guard made significant dollars on the deals. It was an old story about socialists getting rich.
This contradiction plagues every major media outlet today. They claim to serve the public interest, but they want to be rich. Their reporters want very nice salaries. And this is all in the service of Globalism, which aims to bankrupt economies and drive populations into the arms of technocrat planners of societies. It doesn’t add up. It doesn’t work.
There is nothing wrong with wanting to be rich and working hard to achieve it. But claiming, at the same time, that you want the government to run the economy is a sick joke. A transparently sick joke, on the order of wealthy celebrities stumping for socialism, while they hire more armed security and dig bunkers on their walled properties.
Suppose you could approach a well-known and well-paid reporter for the New York Times. And suppose you said this: “For years, you’ve been writing about the less fortunate and giving back and more government support for the downtrodden and humanitarianism and so on—so I want to know, would you be willing to donate two-thirds of your salary, for the sake of equality, to those who need the money? Would you be willing to sell your co-op and give the money to the poor and move into a small apartment?”
The duplicitous and slimy major media are obviously engaged in a long con. They want their cake, they want to eat it, and they also want to appear as architects of “a more humane planet.”
They care about a more humane order in the same way an ant cares about space travel.
They care about serving their bosses, and those bosses have other bosses who are engineering a future of poverty for all, as a mechanism of control. That’s who’s paying reporters their salaries.
Do you know what a tired rich media liberal (fake socialist) looks like? Of course you do. You can see one every night anchoring the national news. Over the years, I’ve spoken with a few of these types. In every case, I’ve gotten the impression they’re sitting on a keg of dynamite. They know how precarious their position is. They’re surprised they’ve lasted as long as they have. Their spouting of liberal homilies is transparent. Where did they go wrong? Answer: the first day they accepted their first job as a reporter. That’s when they sold out. They knew it then, and under cheesy layers of vast pretensions, they still know it now. But they can’t turn around. They’ve made a commitment.
They tell themselves: “It’s business. It’s not personal. This is the business I’m in.”
But of course, it is personal. Everything is personal. We’re talking about lives and minds and souls.
That’s what these reporters traded, in the perverse corner of the marketplace. They chose the rackets, the information mafia, the law of omerta, the dishonorable underground that lives in the highest penthouses.
Whatever gloss they lay on, the trap they’re in stays in place.
And now, they’re sinking and sinking.
I could try to work up pity for them, buy why bother?
Damage is damage, and they’ve done a great deal of it.
A full confession would make a start, but that’s not going to happen.
They’re in a race with themselves. How long can they keep erecting delusions about their work, vs. their growing realization about those delusions?
It’s inescapably personal.
It always was.
The night is falling on them, and the rain is coming down, too. Their mandate is to be on the Inside, but they’re on the Outside now.
They’re the walking dead. They’ll keep walking, but things will never be the same.
As a long addendum, here is a backgrounder, an article I wrote headlined, “Howard Beale, the last sane man on television”:
The best film ever made about television’s war on the population is Paddy Chayefsky’s scorching masterpiece, Network (1976). Yet it stages only a few minutes of on-air television.
The rest of the film is dialogue and monologue about television. Thus you could say that, in this case, word defeats image.
Even when showing what happens on the TV screen, Network bursts forth with lines like these, from newsman Howard Beale, at the end of his rope, on-camera, speaking to his in-studio audience and millions of people in their homes:
“So, you listen to me. Listen to me! Television is not the truth. Television’s a god-damned amusement park. Television is a circus, a carnival, a traveling troupe of acrobats, storytellers, dancers, singers, jugglers, sideshow freaks, lion tamers, and football players. We’re in the boredom-killing business… We deal in illusions, man. None of it is true! But you people sit there day after day, night after night, all ages, colors, creeds. We’re all you know. You’re beginning to believe the illusions we’re spinning here. You’re beginning to think that the tube is reality and that your own lives are unreal. You do whatever the tube tells you. You dress like the tube, you eat like the tube, you raise your children like the tube. You even think like the tube. This is mass madness. You maniacs. In God’s name, you people are the real thing. We are the illusion.”
Beale, coming apart at the seams, is a mad prophet. And because he shines with brilliance and poetry, he can affect minds. Therefore, the television network can make use of him. It can turn him into a cartoon for the masses.
It is Beale’s language and the passion with which he delivers it that constitutes his dangerous weapon. Therefore, the Network transforms him into a cheap religious figure, whose audience slathers him with absurd adoration.
Television’s enemy is the word. Its currency is image.
Beale breaks through the image and defiles it. He cracks the egg. He stops the picture-flow. He brings back the sound and rhythm of spoken poetry. That is his true transgression against the medium that employs him.
The modern matrix has everything to do with how knowledge is acquired.
Television, in the main, does not attempt to impart knowledge. It strives to give the viewer the impression that he knows something. There is a difference.
Knowledge, once established, is external to, and independent of, the viewer. Whereas the impression of knowing is a feeling, a conviction, a belief the viewer holds, after he has watched moving images on a screen.
Images… plus, of course, in the case of the news, the narrative voice.
A basic premise of New Age thinking is: “everything is (connected to) everything.” This fits quite well with the experience of watching film or video flow.
Example: we see angry crowds on the street of a foreign city. Then young people on their cell phones sitting in an outdoor café. Then the marble lobby of a government building where men in suits are walking, standing in groups talking to each other. Then at night, rockets exploding in the sky. Then armored vehicles moving through a gate into the city. Then clouds of smoke on another street and people running, chased by police.
A flow of consecutive images. The sequence, obviously, has been assembled by a news editor, but most of the viewing audience isn’t aware of that. They’re watching the “interconnected” images and listening to a news anchor tell a story that colors (infects) every image.
Viewers thus believe they know something. Television has imparted that sensation to them. That’s what news is all about: delivering a sensation of knowing to the audience.
There is no convenient place where the ordinary viewing audience can stop the flow of images or the story being told. They are inside it. They don’t have the leverage of a crystalized idea or the power of reasoning to get out.
They are inside the story. Knowledge thus becomes story.
The viewer is transfixed by the sensation that he is “inside” watching/experiencing story.
This fixation produces a short circuit in his reasoning mind (if he has one). No time to stop, no time to think; just watch the flow.
When you take this pattern out to a whole society, you are talking about a dominant method through which “knowledge” is gained.
“Did you see that fantastic video about the Iraq War? It showed that Saddam actually had bioweapons.”
“Really? How did they show that?”
“Well, I don’t exactly remember. But watch it. You’ll see.”
And that’s another feature of the modern acquisition of knowledge: amnesia about details.
The viewer can’t recall key features of what he saw. Or if he can, he can’t describe them, because he was in the flow. He was inside, busy building up his impression of knowing something.
Narrative-visual-television story strips out and discards conceptual references. And lines of reasoning? To the extent they exist, they’re wrapped around and inside the image-flow and the narration.
Ideas aren’t as interesting as images. That’s the premise.
To grasp the diminishment of language, consider the current use of the word “text.” Suddenly it’s become a verb; it means a process of sending words. It also refers to paragraphs or pages of writing, as opposed to pictures. “Text” makes “writing” seem like nothing more than one functional (and machine-like) method of delivering information.
And since bone-dry information (e.g., “genetic sequences”) these days is practically considered a synonym for life, when a writer infuses his words with passion, they automatically become a “rant.” “Rant” was formerly applied to describe what a person did when he was totally unhinged to the point of making no coherent sense.
Image, not the word, is the now preferred means of acquiring what passes for knowledge.
Retired propaganda master, Ellis Medavoy (pseudonym), once told me in an interview: “If you wanted to try a real revolution, you would produce thousands of videos consisting of written words on screens, with someone speaking those words. You would try to reinstate language as a medium. Poetry, formal arguments and debates, great speeches, dramatic readings. You would go up against image and try to relegate it to its proper place…”
In the American colonies of the 18th century, several hundred thousand copies of Tom Paine’s pamphlet, Common Sense, were distributed among a total population of only 2.5 million people, and the earth shook.
When a technology (television) turns into a method of perception, reality is turned inside out. People watch TV through TV eyes.
Mind control is no longer something merely imposed from the outside. It is a matrix of a self-feeding, self-demanding loop. Willing devotees of the image want images, food stamps of the programmed society.
—But now, something is happening. Something different.
It is to be fervently wished that the revolution against major media will also result in a revolution against knowledge as nothing more than image.
The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at NoMoreFakeNews.com or OutsideTheRealityMachine.
With thanks to Eugenie (Speculator)
Jan 5, 2017
Thoughts from ~burning woman~
From my current level of awareness and observation, I see mankind as a bunch of unruly kindergarten kids crammed together and told they’re having an “art” day. To get them started, there’s a pile of paper sheets on the floor, and next, a big bowl full of crayons of every conceivable colour. The kids are sat on the floor and more or less arranged around the items. Predictably things don’t go as planned, or even as unplanned. Some kids just lie back on the floor sucking their thumbs, trying to fall asleep. Some just grab paper and fistfuls of crayons and begin to draw wildly across their papers. Some quietly and dutifully wait for some sort of instruction. Some look at the ceiling and smile at something. Some start to argue over the items, a fight erupts and a couple of kids start to cry. Pandemonium reigns supreme.
So far I’ve described our general interaction as social communities through academic, scientific, religious, political, business and financial processes. Basic Earthian interaction.
But I missed something, didn’t I. I forgot to add that there is here at least one adult, one supervisor, someone with presumably superior knowledge and wisdom to bring these children together for a purpose that will bear some fruit. At the end of the exercise, each child will have a piece of paper with something drawn on it to take home.
Obviously, the Teacher aspect is missing in earth’s kindergarten art class. There is no one to bring the kiddies to stop fighting and to cooperate together and share the items offered on the floor. So you have an entire planet running on a pre-interventionist-teacher anarchic condition.
We already know why the kiddies act the way they do: it’s how they were raised, what they’d already observed at home; what they’d seen on TV or what they’d already experienced on playgrounds, in doctors’ offices and daycare. Also, it’s something locked in their DNA. It’s what they are. It’s their nature running its course and without the teacher intervention, that will be the course of their entire lives. Nothing will ever fundamentally change for any of them. That last line is worth repeating because it is a truism if there ever was one: nothing will ever fundamentally change for any of them.
We’re not short of groups and organizations trying to shove the teacher aspect in our face. Put your faith in science and all will be well. Believe in Jesus and you will be saved. Convert to Islam and Allah will bless you. Vote for the Democrats. Join the army. Join this, join that; support this, protest that; love this, hate that. There’s stacks of papers and bowls of crayons and anybody can draw lines in any sort of colours they want. Or can they?
It’s complicated. Someone’s sitting in the wrong place and they won’t move. Someone’s using the wrong colours and they won’t stop using those colours. Someone’s got paper they didn’t pay for which they took from someone else’s stack; they stole from them and now the “victims” want them punished for their crime. There are threats: if they’re not punished we’ll get some friends (allies) together and we’ll beat them up ’cause we’re better than they are.
Earthian civilization, in a nutshell.
Faced with this incurable condition, what do you, as an intelligent person do? Basically you can do whatever you want. You can choose to become one of the bullies, or one of their victims. Or you can choose not to participate in the art class as long as there is no consensus on how it should proceed.
The Art Class:
No matter where you sit, it’s anarchy all around and you’re expected to share a space with people who fear and hate other people in the class. “Look at her: she’s black. She shouldn’t be allowed in here!” “Look at him, he’s got no shoes, that’s gross!” “Look at those two with their ragged clothes munching on a couple of pieces of stale bread: that’s disgusting!” “Him? Don’t even think of being friends with him, he’s a Jew and we hate Jews.” “Look, she wearing a hijab, she’s a Muslim and flaunting it; she needs to be taught a lesson. Those kids in the corner? Their parents are commies.”
We may not be able to have them thrown out of the class but at least we won’t associate with them and when we get the chance we’ll gang up on them and beat the hell out of them. That’ll scare them and they won’t come back. We don’t want them here. This is our place and this is our stuff now.
Let’s say you are a reasonably intelligent person and you realize it’s not possible to participate in the class without compromises. No matter what, if you choose to sit with the two eating the stale bread, you find out they hate the black girl. If you sit with the black girl she tells you she hates the kid in bare feet ’cause he’s Catholic. If you sit with the Muslim girl you discover that she has been taught to hate Jews and Christians and she tells you that as the enemies of Allah they must die. If you choose to sit with the bullies who by now have most of the paper and crayons, maybe they’ll let you borrow some paper and maybe one crayon but the deal is, you swear to join them in the bullying later.
Fortunately there is one more choice. You can turn your back on all of them and walk away, alone. No paper, no crayons, no personal space on the floor, just yourself and the wilderness: thorns and hail, flowers and butterflies, blizzards and loneliness, gently flowing streams and renewal. More chaos, surely, but this time it isn’t deliberately ignorant or evil. It accepts you without throwing a mantle of exclusivity around you. You swim or sink – nobody cares, it’s all up to you.
But what about that programming? What about that Earthian DNA shit? Well, that is a thorny problem ‘cause you can’t blame that on anyone else, you have to face it. You need to get rid of your Earthian programming, or at the very least you need to cancel its inimical effects on your mind.
That’s when you say, hey, I’m me! I’m not what I was born to be; I’m not white, French, doctor, politician, student, taxi-driver, female, male, mother, leader, young, old, voter, entertainer: I’m me. Just me.
Everything up to and until I left the kindergarten class was me according to society. Society had designed the pigeon holes and I could only choose to function as an adjunct of society from one of those holes. Not anymore. Now, I can be me, according to my own choices. To hell with society and civilization.
I am about to reinvent myself as something completely new. Everything I am from this point on is the chosen me; chosen and designed by myself, no one and nothing else. I will never again return to the kindergarten art class; not for love, not for money, not for reputation, not for salvation. Being in collusion with the denizens of the kindergarten class is something I will no longer do until the day when I can no longer do it.
Hahaha, let’s all wish Sha Tara a great and happy Holiday Season!
Dec 7, 2016
I was born and raised in a very Christian environment. It wasn’t American, even Canadian, it was European, actually, Breton. That’s a conquered Celtic province in the northwest of France that was once an independent duchy with its own royalty. The last royal was a queen, Anne de Bretagne. Her husband, fearing for his life, deserted her. Hoping for a male heir, she had several children, all of them girls. Finally, in order to save her country from being destroyed in bloodshed by the French, she abdicated and let the French take over. There was no choice, you see. She then entered a convent, so the story goes. That was, like 700 years ago. Thought I’d throw that in. It’s my history, in the genes, the DNA, the bones. Another story of another conquered race by another empire. How many of us understand this, know this, feel this?
Most of “my” people today don’t remember, don’t want to know don’t care. Like so many, they just want to live, get the best they can from what’s left of “the empire” or “the corporation” and make it to the end with some sort of value attached: a house, an apartment, a car, a family, some retirement money, anything that says, I mean something, I’m worth something… or… I won’t be living on the street when I reach 70. Like me. I sort of own a house. It’s mortgaged, of course, but I can cover the monthly “rental” from the bank, as long as there is enough money to cover all the other expenses of owning a house, and a vehicle, and… you know what? It’s all shit.
We are slaves. Face it, admit it, and stop long enough to really feel your feelings when you realize it: I’m a slave. I’m not in iron chains, my owners wouldn’t spring for the cost of chains, plus they’d slow me down on the assembly line. I’m a slave to the ATM, the debit card and the credit card. I’m a slave because I was stupid enough to believe those who taught me to be a good citizen; to trust, to work hard, to berate myself if I lost a job or failed to secure a new one, or two, or three on permanent part-time minimum wage no benefits basis.
I left the church, of course, long ago. I couldn’t afford it. I can’t make ends meet now, why would I worry about eternal life insurance? Screw that. If God is that cheap, maybe I don’t want to ever meet him. At least hell has warmth and when the power is cut off and the gas is turned off in the middle of winter, some time in hell with a drove of old friends doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. I’m sure we’ll come up with ways to make the best of a tough situation. Are you kidding? We’re from earth, we can party in the middle of a bombing raid; fuck while the shooting in the streets rages; hold a sub-machine gun at the ready while burying our youngest child. We can hold our tears for another, more convenient time; we can let someone else shed them for us while we busy ourselves with our necessary vengeance.
Yes, I know all about heaven and hell, I was suckled on the concepts. Hell, that terrible place of eternal burning torment designed by God for those who wouldn’t kiss his divine ass. Heaven, that blissful place of eternal whiteness. Ice and snow and winds blowing through taut harp strings from which moans of music flows. Angels in white gowns and white wings frozen stiff as garden statues, standing on frozen white clouds and ghosts, billions of ghosts whom, after spending their life’s savings buying eternal life insurance got into heaven and remain there, bowed in frozen worship before the grimmest gargoyed deity, its grin carved in eternal green-hued ice.
Heaven, where nothing bad ever happens because nothing can ever happen. Sick.
Being raised in Christian beliefs isn’t my problem. My problem is that once upon a time I learned to read and I found a Bible and I read it. I read the horror of it and the promises of it, the lies of it and the truths of it. In my child’s heart, I only saw the truth, and I wanted that more than anything else. Christmas and Easter were particularly poignant times, times of hope and times of utter despair. Christmas didn’t tell me about a god being born to save my soul, it told me about man’s cruelty to man, particularly to the poor. The ensuing story of a young man helping people and teaching them to love each other as best he knew how was my hope. But the “church” caught up to the young man before he had a chance and they crucified him just as effectively as it crucified my child’s heart. They had collusion and help of the government and the banks, as usual, and as now, just as my church had the help of the school and the village to crush my hopes of a just society. Sick.
I thought, well, they just missed it and all I have to do is remind them that the Jesus they claim to love and follow actually would condemn them all in a heartbeat if he’d showed up in any of their fancy decorated churches with the fancy choirs and music and siren-song sermons purporting to be all about him. Gag me, yes really. I did tell them the truth of it, showed them the written words. They did not repent, just made sure I paid for my effrontery. Don’t… Ever… Question… the Status Quo. There were punishments, that goes without saying. Sick.
From his times on things didn’t get better, they got worse. I watched it through my own eyes as they roamed the last two thousand years of history to culminate in today’s current events. That land where the young man walked, taught and did his miracles is a land of oppression and bloodshed, the war crimes and genocide taking place there aided and abetted by those who claim to be that young man’s followers and disciples. Depraved and sick.
Christmas, the absolute worst time of year. Christmas, a time of extreme hedonism; of orgiastic pleasures, of blind self-indulgence and pathetic attempts at pretend love and charity with skinflint donations to charitable organizations whose bureaucracy eats up the lion’s share of donated funds to maintain themselves in luxury as tax-free business corporations. Sick… sick… sick.
I’m glad that I found out some years ago that Earthians are not humans at all, they’ve just been conned into thinking they are. Pseudo-humans the Teachers call them, with a slight chance of entering the human race in the distant future if they survive their own sickness, their greed, lust, hate, vanity, pride and egotism. Survival, they said, remains in the very low percentile. That should lighten my angst. After all what’s dying and about to die is less worthy of care or concern than flora and fauna. It’s nothing but a useless and life-sucking predatory species of artificial life. Knowing the nature of Earthians should make it easier to bear my awareness of their current suffering and eventual demise. It should, it does not.
What would drive me mad if I hadn’t entered into a different mindset than that of those who once were my peers? The simple and obvious (to me) fact that being kind, gentle, caring, self-effacing, openly loving, open-handedly generous, self-sacrificing and ever compassionate is the greatest reward any Earthian can give her/himself. There is no greater return on any kind of investment. If only… if only they would get it. If only they would just try it on for size and wait a bit for the amazement to cover them over like a mantle of blissful well-being.
But they won’t. They will choose to consume themselves in consumerism and die of consuming consumption. They will gorge themselves, laugh, make “love,” the richest giving each other redundant gifts that will be denigrated because more and better was expected. Christmas, indeed, in deed.
There will be exceptions. There always are. They are necessary drops of oil on the cogs of the machine. They will do some good, then they will give credit to their gods, their churches and their charitable organizations and whatever good they accomplished will pile up more propaganda (power) for the machine to create a greater circle of injustice.
Christmas: spare me your good wishes, they are a curse to the awakened mind.
I for one hope that Sha Tara will continue writing and enlightening us with her words of wisdom.
Dec 5, 2016
This is for the few who follow, and participate in, this particular blog.
The title isn’t spurious. I’ve been doing much thinking about blogging in the last while, and questioning my motives for doing so. I’ve traveled the “blogosphere” in politics, economics, religion, real life stories, news reporting, fiction, poetry, well, just about every category. And I’ve thrown in quite a few comments on many blogs, many not exactly popular nor politically correct: I have a habit of challenging and questioning, pushing the envelope, see what comes out. I don’t accept “stuff” easily, due to a long time of experience and observation on this world of “easy believism” and that has paid off many a time.
Bluntly, I’m tired of reading about “stuff” I already know about, some since I was a teenager (political, medical and banking corruption for example). I’m tired of reading about global issues I can’t do a thing about, or so little it wouldn’t make an iota of difference even if I gave my life to it. Off the top: how many people remember Rachel Corrie and Kayla Mueller or why they should be remembered? I’m tired of reading really great essays, articles and reports on matters I know can only be dealt with by those “in power” and knowing that it is those very people who are the prime movers of the disparity, injustice, oppression, exploitation, environmental destruction that the articles are addressing. I’m tired of the usual false hope and cautions included “de rigueur” at the end of almost all of them, such as, “the youth are waking up” or “we’re all in this together and we can solve this” or “we better do something soon before it is too late.”
If I decide to continue blogging, I am going to return to my original thought on why I engaged this process. My idea was that first, the blog being mine, I could express whatever I wanted on it. And what I wanted was to propose real solutions to what appears to be insolvable, irresolvable and insurmountable social problems of global injustice, war and anthropogenic climate change which affects everyone and everything on this tiny world. I wanted to address and discuss how people collectively interact with each other, with fellow creatures and their natural environment and propose solutions, or a solution.
I didn’t want to play with tried and failed concepts or solutions. Anything tried and failed is obviously a non solution. If it didn’t take before, it won’t take now. So we need to “source” our particularly Earthian problems to find source solutions. Then we need to apply those solutions and always remember that any other already experienced “solutions,” if they seem to work, are localized and temporary at best. We must also remember that the Matrix learned how to defeat such “solutions” in the past and will viciously denounce and effectively attack and neutralize such. We must also remember that apart from the Matrix and its elites, the more vociferous and dangerous enemies of social solutions will be, as always, the slaves of the Matrix, the majority sheeple: the believers, the voters, the patriots.
Yes, the Status Quo, the “System,” the “Matrix,” and its bureaucracies, that power is public enemy number one, regardless of what form it manifests under.
Here are some thoughts my blog was going to address, hopefully discuss:
When you go to vote, or support a particular political party, regardless of what it claims to stand for, you are voting and supporting your enemy, your family’s enemy and your world’s enemy. There are no exceptions.
When you go to work for a wage, you are empowering your enemy. There are no exceptions.
When you take out a loan, buy on credit, use a credit card, or take a mortgage, you are paying your enemy to despoil you. There are no exceptions.
When you go to a church, or a mosque, or a temple, when you pray to, bow down to, kneel to a god or gods, praise them or glorify them or give them credit for your life in some way, you are empowering your archenemies. There are no exceptions.
The programming that Earthians exist under is quasi-absolute. Many who escape the clutches of Religion immediately fall into other forms of idolatry such as political ideologies, science and technology, particular philosophies, esoteric ancient or New Age teaching; Darwinism, environmentalism, and hedonism as in the single-minded pursuit of success, health, riches, pleasure. These are a different sort of idolatry but idolatry nonetheless. None address the fundamental problem of programming, brainwashing, dependency or reliance on old systems that poisons the Earthian mind. I have yet to meet one individual who was fundamentally changed by engaging in any of the above. Repeat: fundamentally changed, i.e., had her/his very nature changed.
It comes down to lifestyle. To performance. I have annoyed so many people who have “offered” me solutions to practically everything that doesn’t work by stating: don’t tell me, show me. Demonstrate. I want to see it, and I want to participate in your personal engagement to your solution(s) – how much of “you” is in the solution, how little of “you” remains outside of it. I need to see it work for you, by you. No assurances, no claims. I don’t buy pigs in a poke. (Meaning. An offer or deal that is foolishly accepted without being examined first.)
Can’t demonstrate? Don’t bother with the reams of philosophical and technical reasons why it can’t work “that way” when you claim that it theoretically can. I’m not interested in excuses any longer. I’m done with the endless bullshit; with empty feel-good promises. I don’t care if your particular god is going to save your ass from hell because you say you believe in him or it. I don’t care if your precious NASA is taking some of you to Mars in the near future, or to the end of the universe for that matter. I don’t care if you did or did not, ever, make it to the moon; if what the world witnessed on a lying TV system was performed in studios or in low orbit. I don’t care if you’re about to build the next highest ever skyscraper hotel. I don’t even care if your national debt is in the trillions of dollars or if your entitled youths can’t afford university. I don’t care if you’re seriously considering blowing yourselves up in a long-expected and hoped for nuclear show down. If you’re going to do it, do it. Don’t keep talking about it and titillating yourselves with the idea of spending Christmas at ground zero (and thanks, Weird Al, for that idea.).
All of the above are spurious and detract from the main issue: life on a normal, natural, non-violent, safe, clean world. That’s what we, as a people, need to not just address, but bring about. We have the means, we just don’t have the dream, vision, or desire to do it. We’ll believe any lie by our leaders but we won’t believe what we know to be true for every one of us.
There is a very simple, practical and universal, as well as universally applicable, solution to man’s social problems. This particular solution (notice I am not putting it in quotes) will – notice that little word: will – guaranteed – end all wars; end all oppression and exploitation of one-another; end all corruption; end every sort of crime imaginable; end lust for violence in race, gender, nation, religion, class. Most importantly it will end lies. That is, it will end the brainwashing. Once people realize they can think for themselves as individuals and make their own decisions, take responsibility for their place in the world, they will change their ways and their world will change accordingly. All the crap that makes life here unbearable, frightening, scary, horrible, murderous, unsafe and demeaning will turn to fertilizer.
“You” are so close.
The current elitist madness; the need to control national economies; the drive for globalism and totalitarianism world-wide: these are the indication that the Matrix is running scared, out of time and its servants, the elites, are panicking. Unlike ordinary people you won’t see them in mobs running about the streets setting their stores on fire and killing each other. You will see them retrenching from the body politic, securing resources behind lines of militarized police and military forces, cutting back on social services through control of governments. You will see them demanding absolute allegiance from their privileged protectors, smashing the faces of the poor that they find contemptible because they hate and fear them. They are scared and the more scared they are the more bluster they need to show, the more they need to strut their power, the more blood they need to shed and show to the world. The Hunger Games, remember that story, you’re now a participant in it.
And, let me repeat this: the solution to all of our problems is simple. It is the simplest solution anyone could imagine. Does it work? Yes. I know because I’ve tested it and I live by it. So I know that if it works for me it will work for anyone: I’m as anybody as they come.
What could possibly prevent such a wonderful solution from being lived and applied to current problems by everybody? I know it isn’t because they aren’t aware of its availability. It’s because of collective cowardice. When it comes to confronting their enslaving Powers Earthians are certifiable cowards. They choose slavery and call it freedom because it lets them exist within controlled enclaves without wearing chains.
They’re afraid of the solution; afraid of its effectiveness; afraid of how it would change everything they believe in and have forced themselves to be comfortable with. To the average Earthian the solution is more frightening than climate change or the prospect of nuclear war and that makes it the most dangerous revolutionary idea ever.
You know what I’m talking about. It’s been walking behind you, beside you, sometimes even in front of you, and trying to talk to you since you were born. And you’ve deliberately ignored it because you have been listening to your programming, to the voice of the Matrix. That makes you willing agents of the Matrix; accomplices in the destruction of your world, yourselves and your so-called loved ones. You really, bottom line, don’t care. You think you do, say you do, but if you did you’d be desperately applying the solution to every aspect of your life, lives. Why? Because you have nothing else. Nothing.
So, do I continue blogging, I wonder? Right now it doesn’t seem important at all. Right now what seems more important is to look within and make sure that all is well there.