Naming The Architects

Aborted messiah

There are perceived diversities we recognize in others only so that we may differentiate our selves. We then build a platform of denial on which the self can stand and assert that its needs do not match the needs of any other individual, and are therefore not mutual. One can then motivate or profit from the disadvantage of others. However, it will be your selves come back from your own future broken, urging you not to exploit. For even in our uniqueness, we do in fact have this even more miraculous occurrence that in all our differences we have the same basic requirements – basic needs- to sustain life that are not unique, are quite Universal actually. That is the real miracle. That we can meet the needs of all, however many are born and however long we can extend an existence. There are no limits to the truth of our potential if we recognize not just in belief but also in actualization that, like prophecy, there is no such thing as profit, if it is the only concern. Those are the monsters that haunt us. They are our selves projected onto the future and come back to us to warn us of the degraded, mutant potential of our greed.

I’m not saying we can’t all be different, special, and unique in any existence, as long as one would wish to have it. That is where the paradox breaks its reins, in fact. That is a future that will not haunt us because we will have basic human needs established and brought to all as human rights. For it is there in that future, that is not in any way outside the realm of our potential, where there is no fear. And so no places to make monsters that come back and haunt us. We won’t be so afraid of each other’s differences. We won’t be so selfish with objects that matter so much that we can’t grant these basic human needs as common human rights for all.
For it is our rights based on belief in division or perceived difference that is the great monster of human history. A parasite with a destiny denying the rights of all and living a contradiction, a distinction from the belief - or at least just the words to describe the belief - we think we should hold, only to actualize informed by private dissent of the supposed truths. A vast majority of us act differently than we truly believe we should, and then blame the mess we made of things by marginalizing a slim minority of others who must have some level of disease rendering their beliefs mute. And while we are finger wagging that it is this group’s entire fault, we are spending a fair amount of industry making sure we feel better about it.

Free market is code for profiteering.

It is in us. We are hiding the fact that we are on the cusp of nirvana. We are about to the point where we can choose to go to our death or reach for our potential.

Heaven on Earth is possible. And yet so much is consumed by the war between those who believe that it is not, that heaven lay in waiting in another life after this one. They assert control and conflict on such a scale now that they are building a road to hell. I suppose so that they can make haste on to their next world, some fancy here after. Well, I suggest they calm themselves, seek counseling, and let the so close to all of the rest of us get to work making ourselves a heaven right here upon this Earth, not in any phony hereafter. Hurry, now. For heaven’s sake, only seven billion years left before the sun goes out.
So there I’ve gone and done it. I did what I just blamed us all for doing just a moment ago. Confusing, isn’t it? And yet, is that it? Is that his pointed head peering out around from in the back of it? There again. See him? Hear him? The architect!
(…)
Sorry. But really, come on. The dream is alive!

So some will counter, if I may borrow one of the tactics, that people are inherently cheating, dishonest, hypocritical murdering reactionaries in their natures. In that some are this way, it is so that we must secure ourselves. We must in fact believe that war is natural, that our nature is in conflict not cooperation. It is more likely that we are, every one of us on some level brainwashed to believe this than it is that that could be and serve some evolutionary purpose. The notions that we are an unnatural system and war serves some purpose like entropy are the result of backwards reasoning based on original sin, which is a fairy tale. We give philosophical merit to resorting to the misrepresentation of natural cycles superimposed on our weak understanding of events to dignify correctable, yet lazily uncorrected, mistakes.
We are now what we have always been. What we are right now is yet another republic unwittingly preparing to destroy itself while it readies for its eminent invasion. The false fear of a takeover causes the unintentional consequence of now having to invade another country to preserve the republic. It is again like every time in history before approaching the tip in the balance and the unintentional self-destruction. But it is not our destiny. And while we label it admirable, nay heroic to lie down one’s life or any number of lives in the name of preserving this republic, it is a false sacrifice. For it is a false republic. Global concerns have superseded any national identity since before we acknowledge the founding of this republic. Democracy and tyranny constitute a thirty thousand year old revolution spun occasionally to the next group of jokers who accept contradictions in history like pieces of candy and say, for example, that this is a Christian nation discovered accidentally by Christopher Columbus in 1492 while sailing for Spain.
Here, have another piece of candy.
Our Constitution was written on the foundation of a Bill of Rights meant ultimately and ideally as for every human being on the planet by a hidden tradition that has survived the many darker ages of history.
And so I am going to posit again that we’re all brainwashed like I did before. But I do so to reveal this paradox: that only a few great ones over time have been able to articulate that we can all get along to such a degree that we all eventually adopt in name the spirit of the idea, only to do so to not get along so much. A few really believe that we cannot, create heavy divisions among the masses that have the real power, which is not to believe, but to actualize, the words of these few. Peace. Harmony. Balance. Mutual trade. Trade is natural but nonexistent if there is no mutuality. You do not get bonus points for making people “feel” as though it is mutually beneficial to buy cheap poisons packaged as necessities, by the way.

The cultivated higher order of existence is here, is our destiny, and is our past, though unfortunately hidden from us. So there aren’t these magical, lightening rod discoveries that just advance us along. A few details have been taken out of the record where it all went to hell for a while before it was repackaged and learned a generation later condensed, refined, polite and calming in the satisfactory resolutions and dates. Little fake anchors to keep us feeling in touch with a lie told and bought as a reality, a very vindicating version of events so we can all feel humbled and lucky.
Here, have another piece of candy.
Well, not to go in circles with the conclusion, but what we’re all buying into now is about to return to one of those burnouts in history. In fifty years this won’t make any sense at all; because we’ll all be something else, and everything will feel just fine.
So here we are at the end. Or is it the beginning? I’m confused myself, dear reader, whoever you are.

Pirates in Neckties

We should be warned and skeptical of this thing we call an Executive Branch. We say it is new, never been seen before. We say things are different now than they have ever been before. But it is just fascism again hidden from us as we worship or admonish something false in front of it.
They are just products of the system. Their uneasy beliefs are the sum of their dreams of power disguised as a responsibility to something larger. It is where we all go wrong. We need ask only why. We don’t even need to ask them personally. Let us just ask it of every word they have ever said on the record. That is a lot. But a single human brain can remember, does in fact remember, but refuses to name the instrument for the busy labeling of distractions. A stack of Cray supercomputers as tall as the Empire State Building has that capacity, and doesn’t worry about Brittany Spears unless you ask it to. So let’s punch that in and then enter that question and see what happens. Just be a moment now…
While we wait, let’s just examine something else for a second as an exercise. These rants are published in reverse order. What do you do? Do you go to the last section and read backwards to the beginning, or do you just keep on with what you have been doing? I recommend sticking with it, because after all it is just a bunch of words that cannot really be caustic. But see for a second that if you can choose to look ahead but do not for some reason, is where it is, where it lies, where in fact it…
Ah, here we go. The data has returned. Let’s just look here and see…
Oh, my.
So their answers all go something like this. “Protecting America from harm is the most important job of the President. It is a sacred duty to serve at the pleasure of the President in doing that. Securing the American freedoms. There are people out there that hate freedom, and want to kill Americans. They showed their abilities with the events of September the eleventh, two thousand one, and this changed everything. We have not had another attack. There is a global conflict and we must confront it and stamp it out or it will kill every one of us and take over.” Just keep asking why if they start to talk in circles. Keep this up for a few days and you should have enough contradictions in the story to begin to put it together. I know, I know. We would sound like a bunch of five year olds. But what I learned about privilege when I was five years old, was that if I abused my privileges, I had to answer for that, admit how I was wrong, and in the name of justice, take responsibility for fixing it. I also learned that even if I was hit, it was not okay to hit back. It was especially not okay to hit someone else who just happened to be standing near by, even if they appeared in my blinding rage and hurt to be just like the guy who hit me.
Anyway, let us just keep asking why. They do not have to answer. It is their right not to answer. A right they will no doubt remind us that many have served and given their lives in countless invasions of other countries, so that we could protect those rights from those who never invaded us, but will thusly be made by us and our dubious relations abroad with countries that flatly deny those rights, democracy, and all that crap we are out there killing, sorry, giving our lives for. That sentence, I will remind everybody, ends in a preposition.
And I know. There are so many other issues now. The economy, health care, global warming, immigration, terrorism (Wait, that’s what you’re talking about.) ummm… the energy crisis, shadow banking, elite international institutions of legally secretly connected mega conglomerates that pit like puppet shows the very people that say they are working in the charge of the cause of democracy, but are serving a system of representation that is not in any way democratic.
Public opinion is espoused and they say “So? We can’t have mob rule.” I’ll admit that most of us aren’t the sharpest knives in the drawer, but we’re not exactly starving mobs dragging the ruling class into their own muddy courtyards and lining them up for the guillotine either. We’ve evolved a little. Now we’re more likely to sit in unison in the effervescent glow of a screen watching something happening, convinced that it is real, but still just really interested in the story, to intentionally mix a metaphor.
What do you say we make a cocktail of it?
One responded to the people’s disapproval of the policy commanding their well regulated militia with “so?” The tradition of some representation of military service served, intentionally or not, as a bond between the executive as commander in chief of a military force, and the people to which that force belongs. While it is arguable that every President should serve in the military or not, that bond historically has been the spirit, if not the purpose of the Second Amendment. The well regulated militia for the protection of the National Identity stipulated by a Constitution acts as the guarantee of a rule of law. As we listen to these men who take course and say that they answer not to the people, let us examine that they then are an enemy fiercer than any we may face from abroad; “so?” is best answered by the Second Amendment. Or one should say the spirit created by our distraction-fueled refusal to see past the smoke and mirrors of a debate over gun control. The good people who chose to serve are being used as an instrument designed by the policy of an Executive that is itself the greatest enemy to our Constitution, greater in power than any fanatic in a cave.

Our Constitution must apply to the rest of the world in gesture to protect and uphold itself. It is in our own rational interest to do so. However, when we go into a country and kill innocence in the name of our own protection, we have turned from everything we stand for and become the tyranny.

Resorting to violence is the greatest threat to civilization. Terrorism as it was practiced on September the Eleventh represents a different instrument than other, classical examples. Its intention was to provoke an unmeasured response and start a domino effect in the Middle East, a cataclysm that has resonance in all the fanatical nightmares of the wild-eyed prophets of both Christianity and Islam. The truth is that fanatics are at the helm of both “sides” of this conflict, and they are about to make their nightmare come true, believe it or not. Look at it. You can see it. It won’t fit behind their “So?”

Pride should be the most reserved emotion and only felt upon reflection of our actions. When actions not yet taken are given the gravity of pride before they are undertaken, we see the weight of the warning.
We use the idea that this is a free country like an excuse. We wish to defend acting selfishly or with disregard for the interests of others by saying that this is a free country. But it only becomes a free country because of the selfless acts and the righteous deeds of those inspired by an interest in the interests of others. That is what makes freedom possible: the balance of self-interest and the righteous respect for the interests of others. Freedom, like kingdom, is but a label for a state. Unlike a kingdom, freedom is a state that can only guarantee itself in writing. We can behold its truth and beauty only if we can balance liberty and equality. It is free of all sacrifice if we can pay the cost of consideration. Can consideration be without cost to us? Then cannot freedom be free? For if not, then we have but an argument of justifying injustice, reweighing imbalance, leveraging our karmic debt to such an absurd degree that we find ourselves fooled by self interest. We see then the state of freedom escape into our future and our past. Our gesture of defense for our unrighteousness is to then call a kingdom a free country.

Those who brandish innocence like a sword are on high and corrupt above the humility of the dogma they preach. The perception that it is a war between two distinct civilizations is false. For while the ideas may differ greatly, the notion that it is worthy enough to sacrifice a life for ideas puts the leaders of both armies on their knees, kneeling before the same alter.

For too much belief in the cause of any state will make it a god. And we are all then like Abraham with our false sacrifice, but only to the god of our making, made up of too much faith in a state. It starts with a refusal to allow the state change. And so you have the hand of this false thing created by belief striking out and swatting itself as it cascades through history.

...and you can call the business of killing people a religion or a foreign policy. However, prepare yourselves not for salvation, but for your own god's worst wrath.

How You Spell It

Our rather unfortunately natural instinct to kill can be diverted by dissent. It is the dissection of what we are naturally - beasts - into what we are because of our conscience. Because of our language, we can evolve from our rather unfortunately natural instinct to wage war and do battle, which stems from our belief in ideas that have developed from our conscience. It is the further dissection of what we are naturally - brainwashed demons abusing fellowship and celebrating with violent abandon our apparent solutions to the problems made by our misunderstanding of the dissections - that is necessary to evolve from what we are naturally. We think we are "saved" when we reach that point of "final" dissection, make judgments, and take actions. But it only is our rather crafty instincts there again distracting us from the harder work of further dissection. But our conscience and our practice of further dissection are also natural, and can be trusted. Let it guide our further evolution. I say now, as we near a phase change in these next coming years, we stop denying the power of our conscience. We then can make the necessary adjustments, judgments, and actions to cope with the loss of our trusted institutions.
Know that half of that which we are collectively will be lost. Then lose half of that in which you believed so strongly. It will be but half of us left to sort it out with nothing left not halved but our conscience.

But we don't like to see the world that way. It requires so much patience to look at it that way: all those possibilities, all those extra dimensions. We can look at the language though can we not? Us or them, this or that. The dialectic is lazy.
And to say that there are not extra dimensions is to deny the truth of infinite possibility. Impossibility we worship like a pillar in our temple. There is nothing to it. Nothing is impossible. To deny this is to enter the temple and bow down to assertions - a chaotic din hum over the eons - to convince a congress of men that their will to power is somehow just. Just a league of men agree they see the past in such a way as to set their wheels in motion to affect change. The irony is that our only strive difficult enough to approach impossibility is to see the past with any clarity. It is because of that thin, murky veneer we layer just outside our perception. It makes our questioning, curious minds easier to quiet. A few symmetrical symbols pop their heads out of the fog at you, and you got yourself a lifestyle.
There, there.
Don't be a sad phallus. Stand erect and proud. Yours is the greatest show, changing every second. What we look at so as to miss the intention, the very real possibilities we do not see because these leagues of men have so much to gain from our distraction. And these leagues of men are throwing the gladiators onto screens or brainwashed martyrs onto buses. And we are just in the coliseum. And we wear our badges and do not see that our lovely community is really such a tool. Among all this academic grooming, all the neurons can fire about the issues of our whole world floating in space. We can see as long as we can see time stretching back, and it is empty of life. Yet in all the dimensions in between, life lives with us and through us, eternally. Does that sound familiar to anyone?

Our perceptions are weak, made weaker by stimulation that is fueled by the exhaustion of our consumption. It thrives on waste. And what happens? We spin again out of control, for we worship our ideas and not life.

So on our journey to perfection, we ignore the head turned mistakes. We miss the exit essentially. We are all progressing on a collective head trip worshiping our ideas, thinking them immaculate, and perceiving a possible future that is false and believing we can build it. When rather it is our pure essence to accept change and adapt, not make change and hope the response can be controlled.

So if you need to blame something, blame belief. Blame the cocksure relevance of those who think they have vision only to slip in the puddle left by their faith. Don't blame them, but call the blow to their heads virtue.

The objectification of symbolism causes the belief that a person or collective can symbolize ideas. It creates a reverse sympathy: that this person idealizes something in that one believes but cannot name. The systematization of democratic ideals and the instrument of a representative republic are maintained by opportunists of this misunderstanding. Perhaps it is easier to recognize that this can fool you than to recognize that you are a fool for believing in it. But it is certainly a more difficult proposition to suggest a new instrument of representation than it is to believe in symbolism.

When one dissects that which people believe in strongly, one has the liberty of ambiguity. One should prefer that to clarity. For history has a way of paring things down. Now seen more refined the once blunt instrument of ideology in practice politely printed for the record. The clarity then makes ambiguous the actual.

The instruments of terror, as the instruments of power, are just instruments of a larger struggle. The radical, horrific acts are justified as matters of faith, but the larger struggle is economic. Economic collapse is inevitable when the nature to profit at the expense of others is indulged. History then is just the little bits and pieces salvaged from everything that is wiped out. And so a few can learn something, call it realism, and we can all cope with the then realistic. But then you have imbalance, and realism becomes insufficient. It cannot poster the town square. Then you get the fanaticism of fashion that only reproduces subversion and makes tradition, just more tiny bits for history. Meanwhile, we are spending all the power of belief defending a perspective of history instead of allowing what is inspired by respecting everyone’s' right to a future. It is the great black hole of exhausted possibility.

Savior Complexes make Shit Angels

You are born with all the knowledge of the Universe. An existence is the process of forgetting; of replacing that innate experience with emotion and trivia. And while you brow beat and point at one an others chest you do not see that your arguing is a religion without a god. And we depend on each other. Not to empower or to secure against enemies or impurity, but to make love of our enemies possible.
And it is only patience - something that requires patience - to do, to commit, to grow, love to do with patience. Do it like your religion. See that the system of your faith is one of three in such perfect conflict as to assume it is some monster's intent, and put down your weapon or bible or finger pointing judgment long enough to do something that requires patience. Think humanely about all that you do otherwise while you do your thing with patience. Treat your immediate world with actions informed by your thoughts and it will be enough. If you still want to exploit or serve the inhumane then fine - continue with tradition. You are the one billion living on the backs of five. But if you want to do all you can to change then do it. Fail in small ways, but wake up again another day and do it again. Forgive yourself for not saving the world. Feel well that you are trying to be five billion people without a billion living on your backs.

And are we not led away from it by debates?

Something About George Washington

Born out of the objectified feminine seeds a new breed of man. She is decapitated, with arms mutilated, legs crossed in a tantra, turned upside down and floating. From her knee grows a neo human form. Sleek, long, bald and shimmering. The Superman. Headphones blazing orders from headquarters as he flies future angelic over skies filled with tears in the lost dimension, now but a weak fabric. The superman from another dimension skipping in - our martyred ideals now humanized.

Is it that simple? Maybe the rhyming and alliteration matters after all. Phonetics. Phoenicians. Merchants of what? Phallus worship. Covet what you consume, not consummate? Phallus. False one. Never just one. Always at least hmmm... three. Maybe more. No, never just one. See it? It is ours - majestic, flowing before us all united in our worship of the single monolith of our destiny. False, preternatural unity all humming along and making the monument - the singularity of our civilized attention or our allegiance - shimmer. The magical thing is craved unconsciously, and I mean to say without conscience. You see? The switching after the baiting of the two meanings scattered into an ever-tripping skip through the flowered meadow of reason. The hooking semantically and then switching the suggestive into the operative to create the illusion of a void or uncertainty, and then answer that gaping question of feeling with a word simply then switched to the operative. It’s the triple take. Bait and switch. Did you miss it while you reached for your brand, your favorite, your what? Your thirst? You are thirsty. Drink it. But look back at the third one missed. You'll notice it. It is the one blocking the infinite from sight. See it peering around the optical illusion? Tucked in there lies the infinite. The many, scattered non-decisions made for you when you are choosing your brands. And let us not get things wrong. What is America? Three hundred million consumers? No. There is more to her than that. Isn't there? Or is it just a promised land? Promised by prophets. Promised by profits. The willing few who are just willing to choose and call lots of choices freedom are whistling while working and loving her machine. Can you blame us? Works so well. Only just yonder over majesty's mountains but under different skies the ground is being charred. We're all laughing, roasting red-necked comedians, and sold fear and consistent relief.
And to which part of the mind do they sell it? While our reptilian mind is driving and dreaming of the idea of power and control and phallic shaped status, it sells to our insectoid mind. Our oldest mind; the socialize, damn you or demise mind. The one beaten in the corner of the room by the civilized armadas of self interest. Our male/female and third time's a charm union. Not unity of a nation under a god. No, back there farther into our past. Raise your antennae. You can hear its message. Security. Freedom. Choice. Will to what? Control again.
Floating in reclined naked women clouds now...
Drift.
Our reptiles are buying cars.
Our insects are buying war.
What smoothes that over? What makes that sale possible? Why is what we inherited into the many dimensions of our consciousness so easy to control with color and fancy phrasing? The possibility of our unity is divine. So, as to stop us all from being human...
To see in all each other as different when it is plainly a distraction to prevent us from all seeing that potentially we can see together. For when we see together, see the needs that are common to all, we see the infinite border span out the horizon's divide between dimensions. It is beautiful. See it?

Control the impulse of will by littering the conscience with choice. Feels like freedom.

Are we just watching the empirical cycle on display to dismay the notion that it is just one empire going around and around in time? Singing the hymns of the damned and wincing while we wait for Armageddon to come like another big bang. Put that to sleep with more of the same that waited till the end to tell us that it will just start again.
Careful when you choose what you see for eternity.
Careful with hymnal unity.
Careful with lullabies.
For under the mushroom clouds of their dreaming, deep under ground are their aged mouths quiet and open awaiting the profits of demise. A bureau of merchants selling the civilization they are destroying to save for rebuilding.
And clever is all we are.

Whore to Self Image descends Apocalypse

What if it were all but one Empire? The entire course of civilization not a cyclical rising and falling but a linear exchange where conquering and conquered can be seen more as a continuance instead of the traditional ending and beginning. What then? History is then a lie not to hide the tyranny of heroes or the horrific underbellies of our moral and just conquest. But a lie to hide a single truth: that we are always in a seemingly final phase of an Empire not even changing hands of power, but changing names to disguise it. An inheritance in the form of translated traditions sponsoring slavery and rebellion within itself over generations until we come to a ridge in time. The facts of history piled now too high and we can look back and ahead again. There is a murmur among the crowds. Revolution. Change. Floodwaters returning bring the smell of another apparent turn of a cycle. It all grown from the seat of power. Are not both sides of the coin minted? And are not the tables of the marketplace again being overturned?

Meanwhile, both teams expose traitors. They are touted in the town square. They are confounding the base and mixing rhetoric and switching empty phrases. Suddenly the moral clarity afforded to an individual by his party of subscription is not so crystal-clear. The heads start talking out of the boundaries. Senators claim integrity for "breaking with the party" on gun control while "sticking to his guns" on abortion or some other polarizing emotional issue to align enough individual debates into one of two columns. Control the very short list of topics deemed debatable. And to what end do these revelations of party treason serve? Perception. The perception is that amidst the unknowable depths of political servitude there are apparent shallows where independence is exercised and the water's surface can be walked over to amaze the masses and assure the rare individual who needs to believe that independence under this system is possible.


But faces peering out of the shadows are real, each a member of an extra perceptual dimension - one of an infinite number. Frozen in our selfish time only timeless next to one another. They are briefly glancing at each other. The face in the trees seen only with shadows is glancing out at us. But was it once us? In the glass barrier between possibilities, the unseen lives.



That whole gun, cock, necktie thing

Most of our engineering is fine tuning consumption. While the proper amount of chaos is exploited around the world, we coat it with evil and patriotism and get back to the business of consuming. More efficient now, you be a good machine.

There is something hidden that guides us. It tries to make the world a certain way. Represented, as an empty hood and cloak, floating invisible like Death and showing a way to conscience. This authority is not god, more a great architect of the world. Not the Earth and planets, moons and stars and cosmic goings on Universal... No, a maker of kings and servants or a way the world gets built. It exists to distract from the facts of existence and guide the choices of enough individuals to necessitate an ideology and opponent. These make the diversion.

Atlantis is birthing

Then we'll make a cancer out of metal. Some of those infected will sprout wings and fly like our own angels of revelation. Like the mythical angels, they try not to be too obvious. We will be able to perceive traveling through portholes between dimensions and back again into our past. They are careful not to speak too directly about the future lest they make themselves impossible. It is a tough lesson. But we think the wings are amazing and stand in awe and are brainwashed. Write it down as the word of god what these angels say. Careful not to say what is to come for then it is predicted and of course won't happen, but if it is prophesied. There lies the confusion with Atlantis and the New Republic. Atlantis is birthing. It's prophecy hidden in a common myth.

Those that now attempt control are under the control of their own future simply because they rule while believing in what they know not to be true. And they want the cataclysm desperately. What I mean to say is that while we feel inundated in that funny way we mean when floodwaters are personified purely to add extra dimensions to the swamp - as in to be swamped. We are in fact the floodwaters. Look at the sacrifice and it's meaning. Two societies sacrificed to unify into one. A capitol built on a swamp now flooded. Not in any personified sense, but a true flood; a sacrifice viewed as tragedy, viewed as an horrific event in history so not to be seen for its meanings. While the masses mourn the fallen or the drowned or the incinerated a union is forged. War is treaty. As government evolves amidst our too fast moving attentions we will not see the last remnants of what we remembered of our democracy wash away as their monuments sit at the bottom of a new sea. As our ideologies are revealed to be senseless we will turn to see we've been duped, and a single leader has risen to power and we are Empire. We will have to shrug and hope the damned walls we've been building will hold.

It is a different reaction than the kind you get from slaves that know they were enslaved and are then told they are free. When slaves that don't know they are slaves suddenly know that all their freedom is illusion, all their choices are control, all their happiness... When they suddenly know they are in fact slaves it is a different reaction. The people, the supposed inundated become themselves a sort of flood.

We cope with fear with too much system worship. It distracts us from the simple nature of personal freedom. Further exaggerated by a false sense of economic freedom disguised as a way of life held up by the virtues of commodity and lots of choices. We need not fight for our rights if we truly believe they are for all. We must embrace existence as a method of our choosing. Abandon the system we've bought and realize that no one is watching. No one is going to take away our self-determinism. No entity can really control us. Adjusting and embracing change is uncomfortable. But as we falsely fight for our rights what we are being used for is a scheme to hopelessly resist change. And that struggle is the maintenance of the status quo. That is what throws the revolt in our faces. This gives the system's deterioration a sense of nobility. This gives the divine edge to their entitlement and makes their piracy admirable.

We brand ourselves so that we can serve without perceiving ourselves as servants. But we are serving a display. A unified dimension disguised behind the many colors of difference. Just colors. Just not understanding that we are all related. An impression of realism in the perimeter of consciousness is what shapes our ideologies. And what colors them? Our impression is our ideology and it drives us. How you look at it is how you are. It is because of this thing we want. This instant. We want it and we want it now. What about the first part of sentience? The wait and see what happens. The observation. We want to understand so quickly, so quickly at unease. So it is right there at the point of observance and the wanting to understand so as not to wait and see what happens. That is what makes all that is political work against us instead of for us. Ancient wisdom: that first thing that makes us human, sentient, observant is confused by sounds, flashing lights, and finally colors. The bird shot scattering through the initiation of esoteric. We bow down to what we hear put simply and we buy it. We now serve it. All over the world we can buy it and we are then inside, and just because we want to understand. Wait and see. It is our ancient way out. The irony is there in the coincidence where we observe that it must be a plan or a plot, but no... Wait and see that it is only folly. So there it is. The worst sell in history working so well. How could one prove an intentional mistake?

All of our minds are really part of the same system. We are just made to hallucinate. Fictions are seen on screens as history's record. Shot like a lawyer in the face and chest the single capsule of the self projected, scattered by the psychic ignition of the fragmented dialectic - the babble, nonsense flickering and helping us to understand that these two simplest versions political are digested. So the capsule forgets to wait and see.
So... "Until they're god, mind their myths" - D. Boon
You can't believe in invention. Not in the sense of this car is invented (though one can not believe in cars - in a sense), but in the invented as opposite of truth. But is one's system of belief an invention? A system of belief in invention not truth or not known is itself invention. So it's all poppycock. What do we know to be true? Consequence. To believe is to share and can be contrary to what one really knows. This is systematized belief. A system of belief or belief system is an invention - a thing to say at a twenty-five dollar a head convention. To believe in this invention is not to know it to be true. That is why it is called "saved" and not "safe". You are saved means you are stored for future use. Making you feel safe that you are forgiven, that there is no consequence, does this. That things are of a design or a higher mind's invention and we have nothing to do but act as if there is no consequence is the conundrum of belief in invention - or belief in what one does not know to be true. So many do this. So much is rationalized. But that is conscience. Our understanding has revealed a guiding principle: Consequence. While it doesn't feel so hot in the quantum world, here in the lab it will stick your collar to your neck. Now we see? As good as that discovery is, it is bad. As beneficial as that invention is, it is detrimental . . . For every great source of energy comes a new possible doomsday. What have we invented in our search for use more than truth? Invention without some principle as to the consequence to inform this invention will be our undoing. Our knowledge can weigh so heavily against what we want to believe of invention. But the melody goes, "you can't franchise enlightenment", and denial is too easy a sell.

"Still Animation"

I can admit it. I see that car going the other way and I say to myself "that's cool". I even wish for a second that someone could see me going the other way. It works on every one of us. And below these political shells we know why. We know that in our most primal, reptilian minds why, with a rudimentary understanding of the facts of the state of the world we still drive these things with smug looks on our faces. We know why it sells itself to us and we sell ourselves to it. Even underneath the shell that makes man wolf to man, make us want to be the hunter no longer satisfied with the meat of one kill. We must run to hunt so as not to be bloated or left behind the pack. But we've already been fed, you see. Satisfied. And yet that urge must still be triggered somehow. Even there in that dark place we love to act on, but never want named or seen, we know. It is in that layer just above the root of our consciousness. That trigger ignited blows away the facts of the state of the world. It rules mute the simple history that rolls of our tongues just out of the reach of understanding. The logical, connected events that lead to a state of the world in servitude again to a great, mighty Empire. And how great we are in our chariots. What great, enlightened examples are we to the poor, ignorant and disenfranchised maniacs who want to kill us because they hate our freedom? We can deny all of this and still want more. It is our wanting more that has made the state of the world, not any hatred of freedom. There is a real resonating monument before which our leaders kneel down. It empowers them with the secrets of our triggers - what makes us believe. Simple turns of phrases to illicit responses to memories in a collective machine. It is mind control, behavior modification. This monument is phallic. It is worshiped by most of those that most of us hold in esteem. They belong to a cult that promises undreamed of levels of influence and power. It makes them feel as though they are gods on earth. Their messages permeate everything we read, see and hear. It tells us what to fear only to suggest we buy something to make it all better. Many of us believe. Enough of us buy enough of it. It has always worked. We have always served it. But don't worry. It's just still animation. Paradox is but a symptom of unrealized imbalance.
And I know, I know: Contradiction here and contradiction there, and plenty of bad grammar too. But where do we need the grammar to go wrong? After the contradiction to make that somehow hard to swallow "necessity" smoothed over by the nonsensical telling of it. Just after our contradictions is where we lose reason and begin the search for another. So, contradiction here and nonsense there, yes, yes, we know. It is the well from which we draw our nervous judgment. The "oh, but that is just not realistic" dead ends of history.
We draw the parameters of what we believe to be possible like so many walls in a maze. We paint those walls with nonsense and contradiction to celebrate that the way out is not through, but up.

You've been reading these phrases in reverse order, if you didn't remember. And look at that guy! He's genetically engineered from Kennedy's missing brain matter!

Kennedy's Missing Brain Matter


















Naming The Architects
(C) James Horn Lightbourne, IV 2009.