Sunday, November 21, 2010

...Shedding Scales...



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Considered anew: does your "culture" respect you? Not when you've checked the details! Consider how it threatens you with what will happen once you've *failed*.
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Consider this but tyranny, convenient, if you please ... Not happy 'till you're brought to heel and bruising up your knees.
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Don’t consider this required, my friend — a "condition of necessity"! This disrespect from leadership? Their optimized casuistry? Their "living well" upon the least while shining people on? This is profiting from misery... ...and, ever, clearly wrong.
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...And know they get away with it ... will not be brought to bear! And know they're hiding *stuff* in spots — yon, hither, here and there! Yes, know its raison d'être is an echo of the past, when Kings and Priests ruled jealously; not well ... but still, in fact.
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"What's this to do with UFO's," the para-nazies ask! Rather, who controls our "blinders," *covers up* — performs that task? Who decides the subterfuge? Who decides what hides? Who's it sets the tone for shame; who sullies and derides?
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Who's it puts O'Reilly's tongue... so firmly up his... ...cheek? Who's it touts *religion*? Who decides when you can speak? Who's the one who dictates just how much you're going to pay? Who decides design that fails; who complicates your day?
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Would you have a billion dollars if a million went without? Would you live in castled mountains if your pleasures caused "the rout"?  Would you give your stuck-up children birth-day parties costing millions, if that insured the suffering of the sick and shoeless billions?
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...Deny our mass salvation to continue like a *god* ... it's roads to hell for innocents employed to take your rod? Would you trade your guilt for riches if it kept us from the stars? Would you drive a family homeless owning million dollar cars? Would you wallow in your excess like the privileged and elite while knowing you're the cause of people living on the street?
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We’re fretting that the *aliens* are here with cruel agendas? No, we’re fretting 'cause we know that we're the world class offenders! We’re fretting that we're found out. We’re fretting "jealous" Gods. We’re fretting that reality may poke, or jam and prod. We’re fretting that our ill got gain —on which we're now dependant— is snatched away from clutching hands that drip with blood! Comprende?
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Any wonder that we're lonely, yes, a little sick at heart, and feeling rather ready for a better... second start? Any wonder why we're slighted by the strange lights in the sky? Any wonder that the space folk won't *come out* and tell us "Why"? Any wonder why they're shifting in the dark behind the clouds... Any wonder that they fear us... when we give them cause! Here's how:
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Why would they really fear us? Why, we show no self restraint! Why should they really fear us? We stress our planet faint!
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Why should they really fear us when our own we disadvantage, so consistent when we screw each other over for *percentage*...
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Why should they really fear us? We breed like squalid flies! So many that it matters not that thousands starve and die...
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Why should they really fear us when we teach our children lies... recorded in our *holy* books we make up! We're despised?
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It's us to do the changing, not the *other* or the grey. It's us that needs the "oil change," it's us to save our day. It's us who needs to grow up. It's us who needs to try. It's us who needs to shed the scales... ...no! Tear them from our eyes!!! 


  • I'm blindfolded and then hog-tied on a societal trestle. I think I hear a train coming ... perhaps feel it in my mental metal tracks. All the official cultural voices say the way is clear ... no train.
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  • ...I'm uneasy still... ...This is the same society endorsing, encouraging, and absolving egregious criminal behaviors issuing from its closed institutions ... I wonder... as might you:
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  • Is culture misleading us? Does the precipitating society ply a disrespect for its individuals? Are we being taken for a cultural ride?
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  • Well into my majority and measurablely longer in the tooth? I perceive that the real difficulty with myself and a presently growing number of others is not that we are "credulous believers without rational filters too willing to believe anything..." ...no. On the contrary:
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  • It is that we are provoked to our social mistrusts by decidedly disrespectful —if conveniently contrived— cultural casuistries, friends ...those duplicitous and manipulative blandishments from on high ...we are provoked to our rages as those insentient and ubiquitous consequences of our rational doubt of officiality... and then DRIVEN to our adjacent disbeliefs! Our burgeoning consciousness to this societal provocation induces our reluctance... TO believe, ironically! See the difference?  Authority compels our skepticism of conventional wisdoms. ...Coerces our cynicism. ...Encourages our incredulity!
  • As stated: real irony there, reader! 
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  • This is almost to say that if culture is to say something is not there... ...it most assuredly is there, after all! The more adamant they are on a point? The more the inverse must be true!!! This is the consequence of their"official" lie (...a tradition of lies!), finally, forgetting a provoked disrespect for that society, and I find that I, as an individual, have less to apologize for... than that liar.
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  • Liars?
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  • Churches, Governments, Agencies, Institutions, Status Quos, and the contrived and manipulative "mainstream" these five precipitate from whole cloth... ...distorting reality in a most appalling and regressive way! See, these facilitate, astonishingly, our disbelief in THEM and the desire, no, the imperative... ...to look beyond them for "the more real deal."
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  • It’s a mainstreamed CSICOPia driving me into the arms of guys named George, not my inability to rationally accept CSICOPia as the default arbiter of what "is real" and what is "not real" among that which goes astonishingly uninvestigated by them all, still. These ironically fundamentalistic "cult" people—only reading their own books—just fool themselves.  Consequently, it follows a skepticult shall not be the arbiter of my reality, reader.  I offer that you might not let them arbitrate yours.
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  • Which begs the question! Presuming, for a moment, the actuality of an officially dismissed *other* ETI or Alien? How much protection from that *other* does the reader really need... ... or want?  Uh-oh.
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  • How much of our fear and revulsion for an *other* is predicated, not on some real threat regarding an "other," but on our own demonstrably sociopathic leadership, a leadership decidedly not having the best interests of the masses close to their blackened hearts! Our "stalwart" leadership, then poisoning the well on the conjectured *other,* manipulates those masses to be duplicitously misled on that subject, among others?  Is jealous culture afraid we'll go "native"?  Folks, "the man" has always had that concern.
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  • Folks!  If the reader believes leadership does have best interest at heart — that culture is your friend? There're bridges for sale, dirt cheap, all over the world... ...and Bill O'Reilly has a wholesome book to sell your kids.
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  • ...Besides, how is it necessary that we are to be denied our intellectual birthright to move on past this approaching concrescence of singularity... ... a mainstream forecast for time and space where all the scientifically derived graphs-lines of conventional *high-domes* and hyper-educated *propeller-heads* go asymptotic... or propel themselves straight up...!...trending ever more vertically...!...accelerating into hyperspace and beyond at the speed of freakin' light!  Reader!  Something looms!  Heaven OR hell!
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  • Sorry to appear alarmist, but culture says there's a light on that is decidedly not on at all, or so dim that we're not seeing what they think we're seeing! Culture's reflexive apologists, then, must be liars, too, explaining my lack of toleration for them, my bellicosity with them, and my vociferous contempt in their regard.
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  • Folks... the seas are dieing and there is wholesale extinction already extant... ...this while the human population of the planet swells, still! Don't think there won't be consequences!  Indifference, complacency, and ignorance of those things is likely not rewarded in the long run.

Sunday, November 07, 2010

...Revive, Refresh, Recharge ... Renew...



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There's a stairway in my yard to move you up, from "here" to "there," but the movement's through a portal like a Stargate, friend — I swear! It looks just like a staircase up a level from the ground, but it's *looks* which are deceiving when you slight the grand profound.

Slighted is potential to affect the existential with an efficacious meme that you'd provide. Slighting you forget you hold the keys to every kingdom you'd required if you really want to thrive!  

...Climb these steps before you, and you see the UFOs that are flashing through the darkness as they tread denying toes. Take the steps before you and provide for change of heart... with the evidence apparent? You've a horse before your cart!

Take these steps before you when you find you crave the truth! See, you're fooled by them no longer. Why? You're longer in the tooth!

Take the steps discovering the length and breadth of now; things are so much larger, quicker, brighter, newer — how?

Admittedly a state of mind, it's a useful acquisition. It's a doorway into thoughtfulness, meditation ... acquisition. It's a way to help your consciousness expand to cosmic reaches... ...it's a way to capture peace of mind from that which oft times freaks us!

See? It's a place you've made inside your brain, the only place that's real. It's real 'cause you make it so; it's real what you feel.

What works? It's what's imagined — what's created in your mind. Your force of will provokes this, friend, and it works you'll come to find.

Create a door in front of you, build it out of wood; fashioned out of stone, or not, you made it and it's good.

That door can take you places you had thought were only dreams! Departing from the 'man' you rise above his spiteful screams. You soar on space-time wings of light, past chasms made of stars. They're red and green, and blue and white — exploding crystal shards! Everything you see is light, even matter it so seems. Matter is this light at rest, and from it... ...shapes your dreams.

Dream you are a sculptor — build an archway in your yard, and through that arch you travel to the places you'd regard.

To slip arcane defenses, and they never know you're there; you plunder jealous secrets, then depart.  You dare to dare.

...Or through that arch you travel and some mystery's explained, the detail all accounted for ... now who would then refrain.

Through this arch? Fresh outlooks which provoke/demand respect; it's found there 'cause you need it. What you need, you truly get.

Oh... ...you've got to need it bad enough; you've got to really want to see ... just set your course and walk on through, and sit here, friend, with me.

Walk on through your archway and see the sky, brand new. See pinpoint lights flash different strobes, and sense a brand new you. Perceive what you've been missing in the dark skies you'd avoid, pushed away 'cause you felt threatened, over anxious, or annoyed.

Know that this is timeless, that it just goes on and on ... and if it does then you do too ... I wouldn't steer you wrong.

Know that *anything* is out there, and what's there deserves respect. Know that feeling is believing, you can join-up ... reconnect.

Shake your own hand; it's forgiven! What you cop to's in your past.  Forgiveness? A delectation, it's a stone groove; it's a gas!

And all this through a doorway that you've made from common things. Revealed! Discover peace of mind... and the calmness that it brings.

One finds they're, really, not alone; there're others in there waiting ... for you to wake up self-aware, is what they're contemplating. You go there through this door you make ... completely up to you... ...Return and step back through that door; be revived, recharged... renewed!



  • Budd Hopkins, assisted by one John Velez, built one of these things for a commission in a client's yard last century. Mr. Hopkins, one discovers, is not so much the Alien Abduction guy. No, rather he is more like what Terence McKenna correctly identified, I suspect, as the true engineer for the fast approaching future. He’s an artist.
  • Fear not. To some degree everyone is. One has to be... ...to be! ...To navigate a 21st Century day.  See, you very likely live a longer life, reader, unrecognizable to people of just a hundred years ago.  You live a potential of enlightened effication undreamed by near term forefathers, as angels even!  That seeming near god-hood has responsibilities also undreamed.  21st century existence requires art for both relevance and meaning leading to satisfaction.  Life requires art, even if only the art of mimicry, to survive — sentience to thrive.  I digress.
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  • The generic artist produces art of divergent quality, sure, but then how many pieces of the ready critic's expression have been featured in the collection of the Guggenheim Museum of Modern Art? No, Mr. Hopkins is very highly regarded as an artist — this is beyond question. I suspect, also, that Mr. Hopkins has never lied in a piece of art he’s produced —unless it was the allowed artist's lie as a device for telling a more ultimate truth— just as I suspect he’s not lying elsewhere...
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  • This aforementioned piece he conceived? It's a portal to a state of mind, and is still a real place, made real in the real world in a real way. Here's how Mr. Hopkins did it, here's how it's done. Here’s how you can do it.  I did it, myself.
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  • Make the "place."
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  • Find a "location", a sheltered, comfortable spot in a remote plot ... a convenient lay. A sentient place for serious sentience. Mr. Hopkins chose a location in a large, circular, and level field on the client's property.
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  • Into the center of this field he had rolled a large, disk shaped stone, a nod to the megalithic perhaps, and solidly set it up, table fashion, on rocky supports. This established the locale. This was the place in Mr. Hopkins mind, made real.
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  • Now. How to get there...
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  • Build an arch. Build a door. Build a portal, gate, hatch or transom. The *point* is that it signals a spot of transition between the inside and the outside, the here and there, or even the before and the after.
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  • It only looks like a door minus the surrounding structure, and is actually more along the lines of the archway Kirk, Spock and McCoy leaped through, to wondrous and exciting locales, in an ancient Star Trek episode.  Just go with me.
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  • The portal is in fact a teleporter to a state of mind ... a dimensional wormhole like of that cutesy "Sliders" series on the Sci-Fi channel. I can't call it imaginary; I mean, your most outlandish conjecture is happening somewhere.  There's far-flung space/time and surface area enough to have monkey beings two-fingering Shakespeare somewhere, you recall. 
  • These are just examples, mind you. Your place has a similar reality (what ever that may mean) remember, and has utility for that. That’s a good thing.  See, it can happen there, so, why not here!
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  • To get to your ... place ... you go through the *door* to it, and you are, of course, *there*. To leave the place, and this is important, you go back through the door, even if you're going to end up going into an inconvenient direction. The door is the only entry and exit to an intellectual location that can be anywhere in space, time, or mind, as these might all be the same thing anyway. The reader might begin to sense the possibilities here. 
  • Remember: "It's a place you've made inside your brain, the only place that's "real." It's real 'cause you make it so; it's real what you feel."
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  • Yeah, yeah ... yeah ... I hear your internal dialogue, "It's.  Only.  Pretend"! You're wrong. Shut up. 'K? ...'K.
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  • The sound of one hand clapping is, decidedly, not the sound of one hand trying to clap. Reality is dictated by the memes transmitted as a result of language, reader, and language is provoked solely as a result of imagination. Revel in yours. It’s a key to the kingdom and it can’t be taken from you, you can only give it up...
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  • When we were kids we had a marvelous capacity to suspend disbelief that is, to our aggregate cultural detriment, burned out of most of us before we leave middle school. The crime of sick culture. ...And what a crime!
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  • As a child I had a space ship. Oh sure, to you it looked like a tall stack of wood and rusty nails — filled with old radio dials, wooden levers, and bottle lids painted like *drive* instruments... ...But to me it was a battle star-wagon. I used it to right the wrongs of the universe just like my heroes "Rocky Jones", and "Captain Video."
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  • When I entered my ship, I was there! ...Even if I had to fly back, quick, because I heard mom calling on the "space radio".
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  • The point? "It's" as real as you make it. "It" has EVER been as real as you make it! A further point: your idlest thoughts are TRUTH REVEALED somewhere in a universe that just goes on and on in an appalling (and I mean that in a good way) if seeming infinity of space/time... and surface area... ...well passed the point of a billion-billion-billion fertile imaginations. Sincerely!
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  • Tell me dreams don't make it into the real world! ...Then think of computers, space shuttles, cell phones, everlasting flashlights, and living power from the sun — mere pie in the sky dreams of the erstwhile "trendlessly fluctuating" past. Stranger than these are ushered into reality by irrepressible imagination, rest assured of that, reader! Somewhere a hundred monkeys are banging out Shakespeare...
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  • It happened in our own history, verily! Additionally, we humans are our own proof of concept, our own indisputable evidence of the "other" ... that the other exists in fact! See, without the *other* there is no... *us*! What has happened once... ...has happened... and will happen again! We are somebody else's monkeys! I digress...
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  • We never lost the capacity to exercise imagination on an individual level, we were just discouraged away from it by the actions of an unjust society, a bone-head society frankly jealous that our individual energies would not be used, solely, to secure conveniently exclusive and callously disrespecting ends for a sociopathic few who manipulate that *society*. ...Not in my world!
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  • I mean, let's face it. If the shadowy elite had any respect for the sum total of us (you and me), they wouldn't allow the overpopulation (they encourage!) which discourages and limits the individual respect we all deserve just for plain, unvarnished, and garden variety existence ... for condensing out of the ether as mere biological facts produced by the imaginations of un-loving parents, even ... ...for just successfully clearing the breech of a mother’s womb! Respect presumed initially, reader. Individual respect that one should just be able to take for GRANTED!  Respect the default initiation, respect that can only be lost!
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  • Budd Hopkins, artist/engineer, only continues a tradition of efficacious consciousness altering that has been carved in stone at disparate locations, all over our globe, by wildly divergent if creatively intelligent peoples, throughout time! I allude to the arcane paths one walks to get to a location vis a vis the spiral labyrinths traversed in ageless meditations, labyrinths which have been around for an unguessed at length of time — usages lost to a completely mysterious and totally forgotten past.  Labyrinths used to focus the mind for intellectual travel?
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  • The labyrinth takes the place of the door, but the idea is the same: a journey to a healthy, positive, and very REAL state of mind — an alternate place, a hyperspace, from which you may return... with something real that can work... or from which you might learn.
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  • Imagination is all things, reader. See it in your very individual mind, and make it so.