"What I'm dealing with is so vast and great that it can't be called the truth. It's above the truth." - Sun Ra

Saturday, May 22, 2010

I, Daemonic

"Snakes in the grass, you and I.
--Joni Mitchell ("Don Juan's Reckless Daughter")

Ever since seeing that Sumerian sculpture of the Annunaki, I've been remembering very bizarre experiences I've had over the years. Now a recent photo from David Eckhart (below left) hits me between the eyes so I must report in full my experiences, for posterity:

The fist occurred around 1982, when I was 15: Always kind of a weird, shy but creative kid, I was really into comic books, one of my favorites was Elfquest. Anyway, I had a very vivid dream set on Mars or similar red planet: a vast empty, lunar-style landscape with a dark red sky. The only feature on the landscape was a set of jungle gym-style monkey bars where I was hanging out with a bunch of Elfquest elves. I hated my school, had no friends, but these elves! I felt like I belonged with them, a really strong feeling of love and connection that struck me deeply; I'd never felt that kind of loyalty/love before.

Then, walking slowly towards us from across the vast plain was the silhouette of a single figure, which I knew was Death, or a demon, at any rate the 'end' of my new friends-- and I wanted to protect them, so I told them to stay by the bars, and I walked forward to meet this being as it approached us.

I was scared but had courage via my love for the elves. However, the closer I approached this figure, the more nervous static energy seemed to envelop me, like a wasp buzzing inside and outside my head. Finally, I was maybe five feet away from the being: he was wearing a sweartshit and sweatpants, with the hood up, and had on a cheap rubber Halloween skull mask, with red pin points of light in the center of the big black eye-holes.

Again, filled with new courage, I walked up and looked closely into the red of the being's eyes, knowing that if I could stare this being down, I'd save my friends. Again, I felt this extreme buzzing in my head, like radio static that was really an infinite number of mathematical equations and computations coming at me via telekinetic transference, kind of like a morse code or something... it was abstract but I understood it somehow and it was inflating me with strange, burning energy. I remember in the dream thinking, "I'm merging with all alien insectoid intelligence!" The energy in my head and body swelled and swelled the longer I looked into the being's red glowing eyes. The deeper I looked the more the message became pure empty mathematics.

It would have been just a dream, except the energy buzz was so strong it woke me from my bed, and not just like from a vivid dream or nightmare but like from something real! I literally jumped out of bed and bounced around the room like I had just gotten off an intense rollercoaster.  I was full of crazy electric energy and still anxious to protect the elves. Every nerve and hair on my body was full at attention. I could still feel the presence of this being slowly fading away, not just in my head but all around. I didn't, however, see any evidence of a being in the room or outside -- no ships or lights or anything -- that I recall.

For the next few months I was obsessed with getting back to that dream, the sense of love and connection I felt with the elves, etc., so I read through my Elfquests maniacally, every night, to try and get the dream back. I was possessed! I never really thought of the being, though, but he would return! Not the elves... although I found their human incarnation in 1987, in gorgeous Connecticut hippies who took me in as one of their own.

Flash forward to November 1992, and I was back from college and travels and travails and was living at home in my old bedroom. I was very sick--a huge terrible fever-- and woke up one early evening around 6 PM (it was dark already, being the winter) from around 23 solid hours of writhing in fever delirium, I was in the grips of sleep paralysis and finally jumped out of it, to see this huge demon looming over me in me room, I recognized it immediately as the same one from the elf dream so many years before, though the skull mask was off and it was laughing at me, like amused I was trying to struggle out of my sleep paralysis and escape.

I was freaked out and all my hairs stood on end again and with all my might I jumped  up and stood on the bed, so I could be taller than the being, and shouted at it to go away. I kept screaming: leave! go! Go AWAY! GO AWAY! It smiled wider--laughing at me (but not making a sound)--and gradually faded to moonlight reflections on my bookshelf. I remember being in total awe of how perfectly every detail of the being's face, fangs, eyes, scales, all fit perfectly into the reflections of light from the streetlight and moon out my window on my book spines.

I've seen demonic hallucinations here and there in between and after these two experiences, but never were they allowed to get "that far" before I'd pull away my attention. I instinctively realized the best way to deal with these beings is to ignore them when they're still at the "shadow" stage or to confront them, but to not stare and recoil in horror or fascination at the same time, because they feed on fear energy to manifest themselves into your consciousness. You see them, therefore they can define themselves as a corporeal body in 3D space time... the longer you stare, the more vividly they materialize.

It's mind-boggling to watch a demonic figure form itself from, say, the patterns of a fire in a fireplace on the side of leather couch, or a painting on a wall or what have you. Scientists dismiss this stuff because they have a name for it: "hallucinations." But if you follow real science to the end of the quantum physics rainbow, then you know: if you see it, it exists, because you're seeing it, and just seeing the thing gives it power to manifest. Maybe science is trying to protect us by saying "Look away!" or to belittle these visions as inconsequential remnants of an archaic cortex on fire with fever or drug withdrawal. When one thinks of the Catholic exorcist strategy of ignoring telekinetic displays from possessed patients or houses, of refusing to be shocked or scared or acknowledge anything's out of the ordinary, this is perhaps a clue of how science uses skepticism as a way of protecting us from being invaded. If we look at these things too long with too much fear, who knows how corporeal they may become?

Now this last dream/hallucination I had a few months ago, wherein I was walking home from some late dinner to a motor-court/motel in a parched, lonely, lunar-style desert and maybe 20 feet away from the walkway was that same demon figure standing perfectly still, framed against the expanse of desert mountains behind him in the distance, glowing in the lights over the motel walkway.

This time I was neither young, nor sick, so I was able to approach the being from a detached observer state. Again he had a unique mix of being perfectly still and totally in movement, not breathing exactly but seeming to feed off the energy drawn from my dream reality; like a waterfall, where all the water flows towards this points where it disappears over the falls-- the reptoid was like the falls and everything around me was the water on the high part of the river, about to fall....flowing towards him. He seemed to "not belong" in my dream, like something inserted from another dimension, a 5th dimensional giant tweezer end coming down on a 2-d glass slide.

Another analogy is the obelisk in the movie 2001. The presence of the reptoid standing still and grinning but not moving, reminded me a lot of the strange trans-dimensional presence of the black obelisk in that film.This time I wasn't afraid like I was when I had the fever. In a way, I knew I was safe since it had visited me over the years before, there was obviously some reason for these visits, and that's why I remember them so clearly as opposed to the rest of my dreams and visions, which fade away fast.

The uncanny similarity of these beings in my dreams to the reptilians in Sumerian sculpture and to Tibetan demons has fascinated me ever since, especially as I knew nothing of reptilian conspiracy theory or Tibetan or Sumerian legends until the third experience.

Around five years ago I had done a lecture on THE MAN WHO FELL TO EARTH at the Rubin Museum and so was on their mailing list. They sent me an invite to some opening for a Tibetan demon exhibition and It was like being mugged or attacked and then seeing your assailant years later on television and going "that's the guy!!"The nose is maybe more doglike, but the weird hypnotic eyes, the overall look of animal mirth, that's dead on, and the animal teeth... that's the demon!

I also used to suffer from sleep paralysis, and once around 1991, I was taking an afternoon nap and experienced the paralysis and felt myself lifted, ass-up onto the ceiling where I was rolled on out the window (my friend's apt in Manhattan) and up up up to the sky faster and faster, like my underwear had been hooked on an invisible fishing wire. I summoned all my psychic energy to escape, woke up and like before jumped out of bed with a fright, the hairs standing on end all over my arms and legs, and a feeling that "this was more than a dream." But there was no one to tell it to. These subjective experiences are hard to translate, and most people don't want to hear it.

I wonder on some level if sleep paralysis isn't a kind of litmus test wherein the weak ones who can't fight it are taken, or not taken, but that somehow sleep/dream unconscious energy opens or can occasionally open a powerful interdimensional gateway and perhaps sleep paralysis ties in somehow. 

Weird aspects of sleep paralysis include that I can be sleeping right next to someone when it strikes, but though I'm struggling and yelling to wake up, they don't even notice, even if they're awake. Could this be similar to the alien abduction strangeness, where people disappear through the ceiling or the wall with their spouse sleeping next to them, never noticing? When I went downstairs to see my mom after that aforementioned fever dream, she said she'd heard nothing at all from upstairs, though I had been screaming at the top of my lungs for her help for perhaps a whole 30 or 40 seconds, or so it felt - I had no dream-within-a-dream second wake up, I had run downstairs right after I woke up and the demon had so slowly and laughingly vanished! How clear it was and how perfectly it disappeared into the reflections of light on the spines of books on my shelf. I can still see it perfectly and feel those eyes peering into my soul, and the mocking laughter as I shouted it back into the shadows, completely amazed as the definitions of the thing fit like a perfect painting back into the bookshelf in the moonlight.

Anyway, so there it all is. i have no obsessive anxiety about being abducted--as in trauma of repressed memories--and don't think I really have been,  but I do feel I've been "visited" - though for now the reptoid / daemons seem content to watch, and occasionally hook me, lift me out of the water, and throw me back, so to speak, too small, under the galactic legal limit. And who's to say dreams aren't just as valid a reality as this one? It's totally possible to get to the third-eye open state where you see the exact same things with your eyes closed or open, for example. It happened to me once for about 6 minutes. Terrifyingly cool! Another story for another time!

PS - I mention these dreams not to claim I'm a special conduit or hybrid, but to share weird experiences.  While I agree that, yes, fevers lead to hallucinations, I also wonder if science isn't missing a fascinating opportunity to study the bedrock of reality and perception by delving more into the nature of hallucinations and visions rather than just dismissing them as "not real." In the paraphrased words of Aldous Huxley, if the doors of perception were truly and completely cleansed we'd see a lot of beings from a lot of higher dimensional beings interacting with us in ways so perfectly intertwined its beyond our 'conscious mind' comprehension. A tea kettle for example, might turn out to be somebody's space helmet. Your sudden need to move it off the stove coincides perfectly with his stepping out of the rocket onto the moon. If you keep lots of demon representations around you room--figurative statues, African tribal masks-- maybe you can make it so easy for them to appear that they can't, like you somehow, as they say, "blew up their spot."

After all, humans are very complicated machines and we existed long before western science. And, while I respect western science, I don't respect some of its more dogmatic adherents' closed-minded, know-it-all bullying. Since science only believes in things it can measure and experience directly, it shuts out 80% of "the real"... i.e. right brain associative non-linear Dionysian abstract thinking (daemonville) vs. left brain logocentric positivism and empirical deduction (grayville). Western science has convinced itself it has the whole picture, even as it admits it still knows so little, and regularly reverses its theorems and deductions, as with Pluto and the Brontosaurus. A scientist will admit that the human eye is very fallible and can see what it wants to see, and shuts out a lot of avail. information to suit itself, but then turns around and refuses to believe in anything it can't see. Very hypocritical!

 The contempt these scientists show for ancient astronaut theory, UFOlogy, witness testimony, crop circles, demonology, astrology, etc. as being beneath "serious academic consideration" is all fear-based: guilt by association with the "lunatic fringe" and the idea that no one wants to be the messenger of news so bad no one can handle hearing it. For if the government/scientific complex admits there's aliens, they also have to admit they're powerless against them, and that defeats the whole purpose of a government/scientific complex.

Actually, paranormal researchers have to be twice as careful as regular "experts" because the skeptics are very quick on the trigger. That is, until they're forced by consistent results, or one or two brave researchers (like Rick Strassman or Terence McKenna) to reconsider, as in the way acupuncture and eastern medicine has slowly and reluctantly been admitted into hospitals and insurance coverage. Western medicine is pissed off that they don't know how acupuncture works, but they can no longer deny that it does.

Scientists shouldn't be scared if people "want to believe" in something science wants, by inclination, to disprove. Rather, western science should take a hard look in the mirror at itself before it judges the rest of us as flakes and crackpots. At least we admit we don't know what's going on, and we stay open to new evidence and ideas. We respect science as all-important in our development -- but it's not the whole picture. Trying to actually launch our physical bodies into space seems way too literal compared to exploring "astral body travel" which may be how many of these beings operate. Scientists are still saying space travel between our galaxies is so unlikely thanks to the huge distances, but they don't even consider the whole idea of distance might itself be a hallucination. 

We ignore the unknowable at our peril: the Bud Hopkins or Whitley Streiber of today might be the Galileo or Copernicus of tomorrow.  Scientists need to ask themselves if they want to go down in history as pawns of a hostile power elite, firmly against any form of change, or as cutting edge researchers for whom any phenomenon is interesting, even science fiction or schizophrenic ranting! And what about paranoid-sounding but nonetheless uncanny frisson-inspiring bits of writing like this?

Hey man, we--right, left, up, down-- need each other. Without the speculations of the sci fi fringe, science would calcify and become as repressive and dogmatic as that haven of ritual child-torture, the Vatican. Without science to fight against and try to convince, the fringe would be forced to realize the catastrophic consequences of believing all of this stuff much too fast.  Maybe Bush was a shape-shifting reptoid, but that doesn't mean we could have stopped him even if the whole world had known!

It's like being a lion in a zoo. We may be tough, but the humans have tranq darts and bigger brains, and if they're nice enough to give us a big cage and decorate it to disguise the bars, we can at least think we're free and not get depressed, so why try to bite them? Why force them to reveal the iron bars that hold us, since we can never escape, except through complete transformation of our energies, wherein we become no longer human at all, but soul light energy, which they work so hard to keep us from attaining since once we get to that level, we're out of their hands? By cosmic law they can only puff their gills and wave their claws, ask their dogs to nip our heels, to keep us in line, and then if we still don't obey, forget about us? Once we get past them, they forget we were there and turn back to the rest of the herd. After all, one of two escapees is fine, that' part of the deal. They know they can make mind-opening drugs illegal but they can't stop us from taking them if we should find them... they just make it more difficult, so only the determined and deserved can cop a hit, Darwin-style. They let us tell the truth, so long as its cloaked in the natty garb of delusional ranting (like this post). Like Hamlet, we must act crazy if we want to tell the truth without being forcibly silenced or discredited.

Thus for the truth to be true by definition it must dribble from the mouths of babes, lest our fellow cattle be spooked into a stampede. If some of us want to quietly evolve off of the ranch on our own, the daemons wont use direct force to stop us - by order of cosmic law - only trickery.  All they ask if we do make it past them: don't spook the rest of the herd. They've invested heavily in breeding programs to yield a maximum head count. So don't worry about them - all now living will become enlightened (another cosmic message I received); just get your heart lighter than a feather before you get sucked into the scythe swipe thresher at the end of the net of time along with the rest of Noah's rejects! In the words of Sam Spade: See you at the inquest, maybe.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

A bug-eyed look at UFO Disclosure

If you ever want to really understand why shadowy government agencies continue to hide the existence of alien life visiting earth, watch CLOSE ENCOUNTERS (1977) again, and really study the behavior of Roy (Richard Dreyfuss), the immature "everyman" who makes mountains out of his mashed potatoes and frightens his family half to death with his lunatic ravings about UFOs. He's the guy we're supposed to identify with, one of the "chosen" invited to the party. And yet he's unable to accept the "truth" of the aliens until he's right there seeing them and touching them, even then he's more a wide-eyed kid at Disneyland than an adult trying to grasp this vast importance of this cosmic event. By making himself a mere patron on a UFO ride, Roy once infantalizes himself as a glorified spectator, a fan.

By contrast, CLOSE ENCOUNTERS regularly switches to the "insiders" led by Claude Lacombe (Francois Truffaut). While Roy seeks answers from an authority figure, someone to tell him what he already knows to be true, Lacombe knows the truth and hides it from the Roys of the world, who "can't handle" it. In other words, Claude assumes the role of leader, parent, role model, Roy that of the child, citizen, follower. Roy demands the government explain and assure. The Lacombes of the world can only pretend to be hiding more than they know, as a favor to the panicked who can then presume the government really does know what's going on, and so all must be well. It's a classic distraction move, allaying all fear by switching the focus from "are they going to attack us" to "tell me what they are!"

There is a scene early in the film wherein a group of air traffic controllers are gathered around a radio listening to flying saucer reports from one of their planes. They ask him if he wants to report a UFO: "No. I wouldn't know what to report," the shaken but professional pilot answers.

By the terrified citizen standard, not reporting the incident that pilot is "hiding" from possible peer ridicule, but the reasons are actually more muddled: If this unseen pilot had chosen to make a report he may be ostracized, not for "believing" in aliens but for reporting the encounter, for clinging to the lie of "real" authority, expecting that someone higher up will have an explanation for him. In other words, these men in the military are forced to grasp the notion of the ungraspable real, the other, the "stain" in Lacanian terminology. By choosing to not allow the UFO into their consensual reality in this way, the pilot and those gathered maintain their positions within the symbolic order. They know there are UFOs, and they know there is no explanation for them; but they can "handle" the truth, and the way they handle it is by realizing and accepting that there is no possible rational explanation and not letting it get them too rattled. There's still a job to do. Roy can't go to work or function in society once the 'truth' overtakes him, that's why he's not ready for it.

This split between these "grown ups" and "adult children" is further borne out in a scene in CLOSE ENCOUNTERS where panicked citizens meet with government officials in a press conference. The government officials basically acknowledge that the citizens saw something that no one has an answer for. If the townsfolk were to really "hear" this news, they would just sit there, pale and shaken, but they clamor. These citizens cannot recognize that the symbolic authority of the adult government has been removed by the presence of this advanced alien intelligence. The explanation they are looking for does not exist; but this is simply not good enough for them, so they throw a mass temper tantrum, which is in itself a sign they are not ready for the truth.

Another popular consciousness movie touchstone might be examined here to see how a person can move from one level to the other. (Roy never does, even when going off into space he remains dependent, merely "joining the children.") That movie is David Lynch's BLUE VELVET (1986). In this movie, Kyle Mclachlan plays Jeffrey, a young would-be detective out to solve the mystery of a severed ear he finds in the nearby park from his childhood home. He winds up embroiled in a scandal that includes a crooked cop; yet Jeffrey is also dating the daughter (Laura Dern) of the local police chief. He's already presented the chief with evidence against the crooked cop so when Jeffrey walks into the chief's home after dinner to pick up Audrey for a date, and finds the crooked cop in the living room with the chief, he's fairly startled - is the Dern's dad crooked also?

This is a key moment in Jeffrey's evolution as a male, and this psychic growth is something that's present in all of Lynch's films: Jeffrey doesn't panic, but rather greets the crooked cop with a smile and a handshake, as if he knows nothing of the matter. The chief is impressed and later when Jeffrey denies he knows who the cop is to Laura Dern, the chief says, "Good boy, Jeffrey." -- an acknowledgment of Jeffrey's newfound complicity within the social order. Jeffrey proves he can keep a secret, in this case the most important secret of all being the complete lack of 'truth' or solidity at the center of the social order, and this is the secret all true adults must guard. The 'dumb' citizens seldom realize that they need their politicians to lie - need to not believe in their leaders, so as to always presume there's more, rather than less, going on 'upstairs.'

We have a similar thing going on today in the world as we approach 2012: global warming, water and oil shortages; inflation, over-population, whatever you want to obsess on. We know something's up, but at the same time as long as the president doesn't come on national TV and proclaim any of this as officially doomsday, evacuate in a calm, orderly manner, say goodbye to your ass, etc., we're going to be all right. This is the trap we find ourselves in as we enter the age of total digital reality.

The infantilization of the masses by the ruling elite--both in film and in real life-- is no joke, and anyone with any authority knows that a large part of their job is simply to "embody" the "one who knows." By acting contemptuous and dismissive towards the citizenry's concerns at the aforementioned press conference scene in CLOSE ENCOUNTERS, the government agents allow the citizenry to continue to live in the illusion that somewhere along the chain of command there is someone who has the situation well in hand. 

Now to bring this to our own current situation, which is the slow--presumably permitted--leak in information about the existence of aliens that's coming through on the internet, which manages to disperse information so rapidly that the shadowy government insiders would be hard pressed to stop it even if they wanted to, but one gets the impression they don't want it to. Rather, they want to continue to release the information with just enough disinformation to let them keep control. As long as there's debate about whether it's factual, we won't panic. People have an option not to believe if it scares them.

Again we turn to cinema for our example-- the censorship codes enforced by Joseph Breen from 1934 through to the early 1960s. The idea in these films wasn't that no one was allowed to have sex, but that there were simultaneously two different interpretations available: one that was "above board" and nonsexual (for the church matrons and children) and one sexual.... the did they or didn't they have sex during the 3 1/2 second dissolve from Rick and Ilsa kissing, to the watch tower at the Casablanca airport, for example as discussed by Richard Maltby and Slavoj Zizek:

To put it in the Lacanian terms: during the infamous 3 1/2 second, Ilsa and Rick did not do it for the big Other, the order of public appearance, but they did do it for our dirty fantasmatic imagination - this is the structure of inherent transgression at its purest, i.e. Hollywood needs BOTH levels in order to function.

As Zizek points out, this two-sided reading is not only present but essential for control to exist. By a similar token, it is safe for us to believe in aliens because the government does deny their existence. Once the president comes out and tells the actual truth, civilization as we know it will instantaneously collapse, the way the Soviet Union instantaneously collapsed - when all the people decide, en masse, to abandon an ideology, this change is inevitable. Thus any social order must involve a sort of mass hypnotism to function. The truth is, even the movie itself doesn't know what happened in that 3 1/2 seconds, but in implying something went on, it creates room for pleasure to emerge, the pleasure of feeling protected from the truth.

The lesson to glean from all this is that we all need to learn to be adults, to fix ourselves first, so we can be ready for the changes that are coming. The question is, are you free? And if you are free, why are you waiting for some "authority figure" to tell you what you already know? You know if aliens are real or not, and if you don't there's no one who can tell you but yourself. There is so much information being released now, so many sworn testimonies from NASA and military officials that by any standard you could name, the alien question is on the table. Do you still need some sort of "official" statement? Or have you let the truth in -- to the point where you are in despair at the fact that evil runs our country, that we're soul food for the reptoids? That only love and an expanded soul can free you from the bondage of self?

To really begin to believe in the alien conspiracy is to invite a complete collapse of values into your psyche; there are myriad "truths" to believe in, but one of the more obvious ones is that most humans are alien-ape hybrids. One of the most depressing is that we are a "soul farm" and gray-reptoid aliens eat our pain and suffering as snacks before they devour our souls. (which explains the fearsome appearance of Tibetan Demonology), and this is the reason why overpopulation runs amok, and that governments doesn't want us experimenting with drugs that will show the man behind the curtain, why they want to burn and destroy anyone who shows the way clear of bondage. It may be depressing, may not even be true, but it's one of the more acceptable all-encompassing answers to life's mysteries (the alien gene splice is, then, Darwin's missing link). No wonder we'd prefer to think what the TV tells us as we chew our morning cud.... "All is well... all is well..all is a disaster so keep watching, but it's nothing we can't fix, eventually." And that if we're worried about global warming, we can avert the crisis by buying seventh generation paper towels on our next half-hour SUV-drive to Wal-Mart.

The challenge is not to wonder what in that preceding morass of horrible truth and CIA disinformation is real or not, but to realize that if even one shred of it is true, just how vast and incredible its implications are. If you're not completely freaked out by the idea of alien life on this planet then you're not thinking about it clearly. You're thinking about it in the same abstract way you might think about death if you're not enlightened. You're still on the fence, wondering if its all true, still denying your own death, your own mortality, still clinging to possessions and temporal space like a kid grabbing his mom's ankles to prevent his having to go to school. You may believe in Jesus, but aren't sure if he rose from the dead, maybe believe in Santa Clause but not the Easter Bunny, and maybe you don't really believe in anything 100% and that's probably the smartest tactic, but it leaves you awfully numb.

In Sogyal Rinpoche's THE TIBETAN BOOK OF LIVING AND DYING he tells of giving a lecture about impermanence and afterwards having a jaded, seen-it-all new student proclaim: "All this seems obvious, tell me something new."

To which Rinpoche replies:
"Have you actually realized the truth of impermanence? Have you so integrated it with your every thought, breath and movement that your life has been transformed? Ask yourself these two questions: Do I remember at every moment I am dying and that everyone and everything else is, and so treat all beings at all times with compassion? Has my understanding of death and impermanence becomes so keen and so urgent that I am devoting every second to the purpose of enlightenment? If you can answer yes to both of these then you have really understood impermanence." (p. 27)
to the concept of alien life on this planet. Have you truly grasped the implications of "the truth" of alien existence? Have you overcome the egoic blinders that make you run to snap judgments and ridicule, the same defense mechanisms so overworked to keep you from thinking about death? If so, wouldn't you be spending, as Rinpoche describes "every second to the purpose of enlightenment?"

The mechanisms that keep you from thinking about death all the time are important for your functionality and sanity, but when you listen to them exclusively, life loses its scent of danger and excitement, and the dour wardens of your inner asylum start slowly taking away privileges. They only let go of your throat when they hit the wall of cancer or a gun in the face or death row... or psychedelics or meditation or exhaustion obliterates them temporarily. Is it any wonder that mind-expanding drugs are illegal and meditation such a hard habit to integrate into your life?

Or even more understandable--and chilling-- is it any wonder that even those convinced of the alien presence prefer to focus on issues of disclosure and evidence gathering, rather than actually altering their world view to the point of nervous breakdown? For once you "let it in," the truth about aliens cements so many missing connections, answers so many questions, that you find yourself on a whole other level of consciousness. Now that you believe in greys, anti-gravity propulsion, inter-dimensional doorways and reptoids, you can begin to deal with issues like the Pleiadians, angels, God, reincarnation, and the  light to dark ratio of your own immortal soul. "Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain," the man behind the curtain shouts. But he's doing you a favor; the man behind the curtain is you.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Mirror my Puzzle to Thee


Here's a sprawling analogy so bear with me: Imagine if you were going to take a trip to France but when you got there you would have total amnesia. Would you even remember your native language, you ask? NO! You will have forgotten everything - a total reset button. You would be reincarnated, in fact. You're dying here and being reborn over there, saving plane fare and meal costs. But what's rare is that you know this all in advance, so before going on your journey you think of sending some letters and messages on ahead to yourself.

But then you remember you won't be able to read them. You will have to send something else.

What about a bunch of pictographs? What if you didn't even know when you'd get to Europe, could be a month could be 10,000 years... You'd never even know where to send the documents or how to keep them preserved all that time. You'd maybe want to engrave them in stone monuments or tablets built to last millennia. But maybe by the time you got around to reading them all those centuries later, their whole meaning would be lost, it would just seem like a lot of mystic mumbo jumbo. Hieroglyphs... am I right?

.. ..So before you leave, you will need a plan by which you can manipulate and influence your future self, so he or she will be ready to understand who you really are. So you make special arrangements for events to happen to your future incarnation: at age 13 the new you will get hit on the head with a hammer and put in a visionary coma; at 24 you will fall in love but the person rejects you; the stinging humiliation leads you to take too much acid; the trauma from that leads you to past life regression therapy and when you emerge, viola!

All this pain and suffering you've arranged, then, is not because you're a masochist. It's all meant to trigger an awakening so you can remember where you're from and read the tablets and monuments. You carve out a space of time in your future life where you will have no friends and no food, all just to be able to get you to study them long enough to decode your meaning.

Maybe after all that, it still wont work. Your future self might not want to believe you existed all these realms ago. And so you have to communicate with this stubborn future self via obscure signs, so it takes the future you a couple decades to figure out what you meant, because you know you will still like to solve stuff. This is why you're making this long strange trip in the first place, to occupy yourself. Like a jigsaw puzzle, once it's put together it's done. So what do you do now? You shake it up and start again-- ain't no other puzzles but this, and if you could you would erase the memory of having done it the first time, since it's never as fun the second time, you would. In fact you decided to already, and forgot that too. 

Once you grasp these concepts, you will begin to see eternity in everything -you will see cave drawings from the paleolithic age and think, "What was I trying to tell my later self when I drew that?"

Why? Because to truly understand it is to forget it - unless, that is, you are finally through the golden gate and this time make the choice not to turn around and help the rest of us poor suckers along the way, like ole Buddha.

In meditation sometimes you realize you aren't on a path so much as cleaning a very dirty window, painted over with layers of paint, caked with soot, hardened lava, vines, and cobwebs... through which the sun is trying to shine at you. As you scrape through the layers of paint you come across old Grateful Dead bumper stickers depicting skeletons, which remind you of the time your little brother got you grounded, for example. You see how this betrayal emerged as a negation of any love you might feel for people in your life who resembled or talked like your brother. Boom, you peel off the sticker and your life gets suddenly richer, sun shines through brighter. You see the thousand withered stalks and tendrils of possibility that never manifested because they resembled things you painted over on this window, so they reminded you too much of your put-off chore - you "don't do windows" - so even walking past one begins to create anxiety; so much happiness you threw away because you couldn't say you were sorry.

So you say you're sorry to him, and your brother looks at you funny. But whatever, you have a window to clean, and no shortage of dirt in sight.

Look the world in the eye and admit defeat. Throw down your tendril-shearing sword of censorship and instead pick up the rosined bow of music and its endless variations. Scrape madly, passionately, but with love, and you will find you're also scraping off the crust that doth blacken up this strange and ancient window.

When the window is finally clear, what then? There are some practitioners who soon grow reddened and burnt from being so unused to the glare of the sun shining through the clean glass, and so they find a nice thin UV-protecting varnish to spread over the pane. Just enough, you understand, to keep out the gamma rays.

But what you didn't know was the gamma rays had the vitamin of remembering and soon you've forgotten that that thin UV-protecting gloss layer is even there. You think that the window is totally clean and clear, and when the cleaning lady comes by to try and point out it's not clean at all, you get so mad you burn her; you burn her eyes out, just to prove that she can't see there is no layer but this

And so it begins anew. "all the way to infinity." (12/07) You can study the puzzles they scrawl on our lawns, but you will never know the truth, until it's your turn to step up and forget all about it. What were you trying to tell yourself? Absolutely goddamned right.