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ISUTWENTYSEVEN
all roads lead to mi-fu  //  our earth is purging


AUDIO NARRATIVE

Take Your Place // Scientism // Roundtable Part 1 // Anarchist Note // Obsolescence // Roundtable Part 2

 


“The god who dwells in my heart is neither a bureaucrat nor a lover of bureaucracies;
Among the wise, evolution springs from spontaneity.”
- The Anarchist


“Please Take Your Place in the Far Queue”

“Please take your place in the far queue.”

“Hey, the announcer is Aussie.”

“Goddamn, that light is nearly blinding!”

“The privilege of being near the front of the line.”

“Excuse me, is this the line-up for Divine’s?”

“Yeah, but no cutsies! Back of the bus, buddy.”

“Please remain in single file.”

“Just follow my lead. Say what I say... do what I do... and we’ll get in... we have to!”

“I heard that Buddha and the Eastern Masters are headlining tonight.”

“Yeah, but they’re not as good as Saint Germain. I hear he killed it last night!”

“Hey, what’s the holdup?”

“Please everyone, just wait your turn.”

“Is that him?... Jesus! Is that Jesus?”

“I think it is! Hello! Jesus!... yoohoo!... I think he looked. He totally looked!”

“Ascension sure is fun... but I hate all these goddamn lineups.”

“Pretty friggin’ orderly though.”

“Hey, check out the door... talk about the eye of a needle!”

“Okay, who brought the camel?”

“Jesus my man, slick ride!”

“Tell me this is all-inclusive. I didn’t bring any money.”

“Get a load of the rich dude...”

“Yeah, like he’ll get in.”

“I heard they have light chambers. Do they have light chambers? Does anyone know if they have light chambers? God, I hope they have light chambers!”

“Please check your guides at the door. They may be retrieved upon request when you leave.”

“Leave? Oh man, I don’t plan on ever leaving. This is the shit... thee shit!”

“What if I say something stupid. Bet you a million dollars I say something stupid!”

“Stop worrying. The whole thing’s divinely supervised. As if anything could go wrong!”

“You can’t fart without three angels praying for your salvation and forgiveness.”

“What if I forget everything I’ve learned so far? My mind’s a sieve.”

“It’s not what you know; it’s who you know. Just tell ‘em you’re with me.”

“So... is this like the fourth dimension or the fifth dimension?”

“Upper fourth I think. The fifth is still reserved for the higher-up mucky-mucks.”
“God, I’d like to sit at their table!”

“My head hurts. Does anyone else’s head hurt?”

“That’s just your consciousness expanding.”

“Hey, who’s that guy?”

“Look at him... just wandering around like he doesn’t have a clue.”
“Hey! Jackass! Get in line!”

“Where’s he think he’s going?”

“Check out his T-shirt: ‘I am The Way.’ Better not let Jesus see you with that!”

“He’d kick his blasphemous ass!”

“Hey, where’d he go?”

“I swear he was standing right there... and then poof... he vanished!”

(“There are as many doors to heaven as there are those who knock.”)

“Who the fuck said that?”

“I dunno. Shit, that was weird!”

“Please take your place in the far queue.”
 


The Alien and the New Age of “Scientism”
 

Edwin’s Note: This off-world visitor, the alien, was forcibly assimilated into the Mi-Fu continuum by Paul early on in our epic tale. Interestingly, it was the “foreignness” of the alien’s mind which forced the data storage unit within Mi-Fu, the Refraction Module, to spontaneously evolve a new means of organizing the data comprising the inner continuum... which led to radical alterations in how the inner continuum was experienced by all assimilants and their “progeny.” When all of the assimilants were Earth-based humans, there was a great deal of redundancy throughout the experiences (memories) comprising their lives. Data storage was easily layered in a linear/geometric configuration. At the moment of the alien’s forced assimilation however, there was suddenly a whole new data set of “bounded infinity” that needed to be instantly accommodated... which it was. Anyway, the point is that although the alien no longer exists as a discreet flesh-and-blood character in the Muse tapestry, all of his memories have been flawlessly preserved... including this conversational exchange prior to the moment of his assimilation.

A young couple are strolling through a city park when the wife notices a rather odd and forlorn soul slumped introspectively on one of the benches. Much to the husband’s chagrin, she marches right over to him to start a conversation...

Wife: Excuse me... but are you okay? You look a bit down in the dumps.

Alien: Oh... sorry... greetings. Yes, I am okay... but well displaced from the dump.

Wife: Haha! You’re funny.

Husband: You’ll have to forgive my wife. She takes every frown as her personal duty to turn upside-down.

Alien: Indeed...?

Wife: Yeah, I suppose it’s true. So, what’s got your brow so knitted in yarns of tangled thought?

Husband: She thinks she’s a bit of a poet too.

Alien: Well... I have been conducting research for quite some time and I am having difficulty understanding Earth-based science.

Husband: Science! Well then you’ll probably be wanting to talk to me. The wife is more into all that new age airy-fairy crap.

Wife: Honey!

Alien: You are a scientist then?

Husband: Well, not exactly a scientist per se; just that my beliefs are a bit more scientific than hers. That’s all.

Alien: (puzzled) Science is a belief you say?

Husband: Well... yeah. What else can it be? Either you believe in science or you don’t.

Alien: (hesitantly) Much like religion then? Science is a dogma?

Husband: No. No, not at all! Science isn’t anything like religion. Science is proven.

Alien: Meaning it is verifiable.

Husband: Exactly!

Alien: And being scientific, you have verified your own scientifically held beliefs?

Wife: Ha! Yeah right. He’s not much into experimenting, if that’s what you mean... unless it’s experimenting with beer and a new kind of pretzel.

Husband: I don’t have to duplicate every scientific discovery for myself. When reputable scientists around the world obtain similar results and draw identical conclusions, that’s good enough for me. I trust that they’re not all lying... conforming to some grand conspiracy or something.

Alien: You trust that the current orthodoxy is correct?

Husband: Well sure. They’re the experts, right?

Wife: Just like Father Thomas is the expert in religious matters... right honey?

Husband: Again, you’ll have to forgive her. She really enjoys trying to get my goat.

Alien: (puzzled again) I am forgiving... but this reference to a goat...?

Wife: I’m just saying that the “scientific” consensus you believe in is just another bible with a different title.

Husband: Oh and the crap you choose to believe in is spoon-fed to you during your “conversations” with Arch Angel Michael! Might as well just close your eyes and make up whatever you want!

Wife: At least I test whatever Michael tells me!

Husband: Like when he told you to drink your own pee?

Wife: It cured the arthritis in my hand... just like he said it would.

Husband: Purely the placebo effect; you’ll believe anything... if it comes to you in one of your mystical moods.

Wife: It’s called meditation, dear. Our thoughts create our reality.

Husband: Oh, here we go... Reality is whatever you believe it to be... regardless of what science has to say on the matter, eh?

Alien: Might I interject here? You mentioned the placebo effect-- which is precisely the efficacy of belief in causing a physical cure in the patient... And yet you also deride the potential of belief to affect one’s experience of physical reality. Do you accept the placebo effect or not?

Husband: Well sure. It’s scientifically established. The placebo effect is real.

Alien: Then do you believe that the placebo effect is only operational and valid within the specificity of medical cures? What prevents the placebo effect from spilling over into other areas of human experience?

Husband: Look, I’m no expert... But drinking your own piss! There’s nothing in your own wastes that’s medicinal. There can’t be. It’s disgusting!

Alien: You have eliminated the possibility... how?

Husband: If there was any scientific merit to drinking your own urine, you can be damn sure that we’d all be doing it. And we’re not... so there isn’t.

Alien: I see. So then in your estimation, is the goal of science to limit possibilities?

Husband: Well you don’t want to go barking up the wrong tree every day. Science points you in the right direction, keeps you from wasting your time with absurdities.

Wife: And he doesn’t like to appear gullible.

Alien: But the absurdities cannot be distinguished in advance from the “true” possibilities.

Husband: And that’s why we have the experts-- the scientists. They figure it all out for us.

Just then the wife takes a drink from her water bottle.

Husband: I hope that’s not--

Wife: So what if it is? But if you must know, it’s just distilled water.

Husband: Honey, I told you that too much of that stuff is dangerous! It’ll leech minerals from your body. Stop believing all the hokum on the internet.

Alien: This is the orthodox scientific consensus-- that distilled water will rob the body of valuable minerals?

Husband: Yup. There’s plenty of MDs who’ve come out saying exactly that. Prolonged use of distilled water is definitely dangerous.

Alien: Interesting. I wonder though how animals in the wild avoid the danger...?

Husband: What do you mean?

Alien: Well, for instance, any wild animals inhabiting temperate or polar climates will have nothing but snow to meet their hydration needs for a significant portion of the year. Snow is devoid of minerals; it is essentially distilled water.

Husband: Hm... I never thought of that.

Alien: Quite understandable. The scientism to which you subscribe obviously requires no thinking.

Wife: He’s got you there, dear.

Husband: Look, we really should be going. Sorry we couldn’t be of more help.

Alien: On the contrary. You have done much to resolve my confusion.

Wife: Oh... how so?

Alien: Prior to our conversation I was attempting to distinguish between Earth-based science and common religion... and having great difficulty. I clearly see now that they are one and the same.

Husband: Say what!

Alien: Both rely upon an orthodox consensus provided by a few elite experts... and the masses adopt the prevailing view as the basis for their own beliefs. It is authoritarian.

Husband: You gotta be kidding me! Science and religion are the same? Come on!

Alien: Perhaps my terminology is somewhat misleading. It is your brand of scientism which is indistinguishable from religion. Science, the type your wife seems to engage in, is a process, a methodology which presupposes nothing. Science is based in experience, not belief. One does not believe in science; one practices it. It is the same distinction between religion and spirituality. One is indoctrinated within religious dogma, whereas spirituality is an open exploration of mystical states and subtle energies. Again, spirituality is a process, a fluid orientation toward discovery; religion is a static system of belief. On the one side of the line, scientism and religion stake their claim with authority; on the other side, science and spirituality move and dance to their own validation. I see now where I had it all wrong.

Husband: Yeah buddy, I think you got a whole lot of wrong going on!

Wife: Now it’s my turn to apologize for my husband. You seem to have stepped on his poor little ego.

Alien: My apologies.

Husband: This is ridiculous! I don’t care what this freak says! My views are sound, based on solid science... and I’ve got some of the best minds on the planet backing me up! Are you going to sit there and tell me that our science is all wrong?

Alien: Beliefs are neither right nor wrong. They are the testable parameters of one’s experience. But as far as your scientism goes, it is only able to penetrate the domain of infinite reality according to its founding premises. The premises of your scientism are extraordinarily limiting... even misleading.

Husband: Care to elaborate on that? Maybe an example or two?

Alien: Certainly. Let us take the premise of universal constants. How can you know that they are universal or constant? Hint: they are neither. Or allow us to examine the premise that matter is primary... and this one really puzzles me. Science seeks to understand causality; its power lies in predictability. In the reductionists’ quest to discover the basis of matter it was fully a century ago that the consensus arrived at energy as the ultimate answer. The irreducible basis of all matter is energy; it is an energetic universe. Yet more than a hundred years later, scientism still wallows in materialism, just as though matter is still regarded as being primary. The causal plane is energetic; matter is an effect. As long as the experts insist on focusing mainly upon objects, scientism will remain as a doctrine of shadow-play, nothing more.

Husband: Well aren’t you quite the little expert, able to denounce centuries of humanity’s finest reasoning in a matter of minutes!

Alien: You do realize that the history of science-- as a collective endeavor-- is always bound to be a litany of errors? Every consensus among experts through the centuries has been overturned and supplanted by new discovery and insight. Collective science is always in error. You need only look in any book of scientific history for confirmation.

Husband: Yeah, well, that was in the past. We’ve come a long way in recent years. Look around at all the technology. I think that this time we’ve gotten more than a few things right!

Alien: And that is precisely the argument offered up by every preceding generation of scientists. They have all insisted at every point that “This time we’re right!”

Wife: Kinda like all the different factions of religious folk always insisting that they’re right, eh honey?

Husband: Who are you anyway? Are you a scientist?

Alien: Science officer, actually.

Husband: So... military.

Alien: No--

Wife: I think he might be an extraterrestrial!

Husband: Yeah right. There’s no such thing as aliens, dear. And even if there were, I hardly think that they’d be interested in talking to the likes of you and me.

Alien: On the contrary--

Husband: Yeah... excuse me, but I think we’ll be going now.

He grabs his wife by the elbow and begins dragging her away.

Wife: Bye now! Nice to meet you.

Husband: That was one strange little dude!

Wife: I rather liked him.

Husband: Yeah, you would.


The New Earth

It had been decided that Daren and his armed coterie were no longer needed. It was equally decided between those bearing arms as by those under their “supervision.” There just didn’t seem to be much purpose for gun-toting thugs any longer-- if there ever had been.

Lynn’s miraculous resurrection and the seeming supernatural knowledge and wisdom of the Children’s Collective had convinced everyone that the gamefield on this version of Earth had drastically changed. The group of mercenaries were as eager to move on from this high strangeness as the rest of the guests were anxious to see them leave.

 

Discussions At the Roundtable


Edwin’s Note: Martin Dexter’s kitchen table isn’t actually round... more like rectangular with rounded corners.

The special property of round tables is that everyone seated around one is of equal status for all appearances. Though in this case the table was not round, the property of equality was never in dispute.

“Well I guess we’ll be moving along then,” said Daren, poking his head around the corner to speak to those seated at the table. “Seems you’ve got everything pretty much under control around here.”

“Where will you be going?” asked the teenager representing the Children’s Collective.

“Back into the city, I figure. That’s still where the most valuable and abundant resources are to be found.”

“From your perspective, I concede that that holds true,” answered the boy. “But you know, it’s really you and your men who are the true value. If you ever decide to enter into unity consciousness, you would truly revel in your invincibility.”

“Well, for now... all that telepathy stuff is a bit unnerving. I don’t think these bastards are quite ready to bare their souls to each other. Maybe when we swing by this way again you can teach us or something.”

The boy nodded. “Tell me... would you be adverse to a little mission while you’re traipsing through the major cities?” 

Daren raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in a gesture of receptiveness. “What kind of mission?”

“Would you be willing to destroy a few buildings in the city centers?”

Daren now came fully into the room and sat on the corner of the kitchen table. “That’s not quite the type of mission I’d expect coming from you... and your associates. What exactly do you have in mind?” “Virtually every city on Earth has a few key streets and buildings which are situated on ley lines and earth energy vortices. They’ve been constructed using sacred geometry to give them a certain power or control over the natural energy channels of the Earth’s telluric sentience. It’s time now to unstop the flow, to restore the Earth’s natural awareness to her surface. By obliterating buildings such as courthouses and city halls, and perhaps a few churches a great deal could be achieved along these lines.”

“Ley lines you say? Never heard of them. But the mission sounds kinda fun.”

“Here, let me draw you a few diagrams, patterns to look for in the shapes of buildings and even the layout of streets.” The teenager quickly began sketching. “One thing that’s pretty important though. You mustn’t harm anyone in the process. Let the destruction be controlled and precise. Bulldozers are better than explosives.”

“Aw, now you’re spoiling all the fun,” complained Daren with a wink. When the boy was done with the drawing, Daren stuffed it into his jeans and said his final good-byes. He was nearly out of earshot as he stepped from the cabin for the last time and shouted over his shoulder “Tell Lynn I’m sorry!”

Joseph muttered at the table to no one in particular “You should tell her yourself, motherfucker.” But he knew there had never been any chance of that.

Beside Joseph sat Chandra Po, the disheveled poetess who’d spent practically the entire winter in seclusion, sheltered in a tiny igloo of her own subpar construction. It wasn’t yet clear whether Chandra had regained all of her marbles from the challenges posed in the preceding months. But then, perhaps none of them had.

Beyond Chandra sat the still figure of Mi-Fu in the shadows of the kitchen corner. The inert android commanded the same attention as a tacky lampshade or an antique hutch. Until Mi-Fu reanimated himself-- if he ever could or would-- he was just another piece of heavy furniture collecting dust.

Across from Mi-Fu was seated the teenager representing the collective, and next to him was an uncharacteristically reticent Martin Dexter. Traditionally it had been Martin who took the lead in nearly every discussion. This version of Dex however much preferred silence.

And finally Colette-- once Chandra’s fierce companion-- completed the circle of participants in the sputtering conversation. She wished with all her heart to simply hug the shit out of Chandra, but so much had changed... so much had changed! Colette just stared at her mug.

Between sips of strong coffee it was Chandra who began the discussion in earnest. “I don’t know if I can bear the loneliness.” It was the kind of statement that just rolled out onto the middle of the table like a hairball. Nobody wanted to touch it... because they didn’t really understand where it was coming from.

Joseph, ever the compassionate one, reminded her “You’re here with us now, honey. Safe. You’re surrounded by your friends.” Your isolation is over now. The last he didn’t say out loud, for it hinted at accusations.

Chandra stared at him a moment, meeting his gaze eye-to-eye, and then she turned to seemingly address Martin. “Not the kind of loneliness that can be so easily appeased by company and conversation. I’m tired. So fucking tired! And... so alone.”

Martin, having been singled out, felt obligated to respond, yet he still didn’t really understand the complaint. He faltered several times in his response before lamely declaring “I don’t know what to say.”

“The real Martin Dexter would!” she snapped back.

“Chandra!” began Joseph, yet his admonishment too fell short on words.

An uncomfortable silence filled the little cabin making them all feel awkward and inadequate, except perhaps the boy. He momentarily closed his eyes which was immediately followed by Chandra throwing her eyes suddenly wide. Her mind was awash in the simple and powerful sentiment “You are loved.”

“Who said that?” she demanded rather meekly.

Before the puzzled faces there assembled could voice their confusion at Chandra’s query, the boy spoke up. “It was I. Or should I say, us.”

“The benign magic of your Collective,” surmised Chandra. The boy affirmed it with a nod. “It almost felt... real,” she added hesitantly.

“As real as anything,” said the boy. “Martin participated,” he added as though that were the significant piece that might gain her attention and eventually achieve her succor.

“But that’s not him,” she spat, jerking a thumb in Dexter’s direction.

“Assuredly,” conceded the boy. “I meant the Martin Dexter over there.” He pointed to the vacant room beyond the kitchen. Heads turned, expecting to see a... what? A ghost? Perhaps.

“Someone want to explain what’s going on?” asked the always level-headed Joseph.

“Martin is here? The real Martin!” Excitement momentarily quelled the forlorn desolation of Chandra’s former demeanor.

“Indeed,” smiled the boy, “among a great deal of many others. The unseen fill every niche of reality. We are never alone. None of us... ever.”

Now it was Colette’s turn. “What the hell is going on?”

“Please allow me,” said the teenager raising his hand. “We of the Collective have long wished to have many discussions, to provide a litany of disclosures. Until now the timing had never been quite right. We have a very great deal to say... that we believe may be of help.” Heads were tipped in acquiescence and brows raised in curiosity. Bums settled in for the duration.

“Unity consciousness changes everything.” He paused for emphasis. “The very way in which we perceive reality is so completely different from our lives before achieving unity. We occupy a very very different world than do all of you still living in your habitual isolation. We understand that it is just that we process reality differently, but the difference is so vast that it seems as though two distinct realities are in play. We have memories of being just like all of you, but they seem so small and insignificant as to now seem unreal.

“As Chandra voiced her loneliness, we recognized it as more than a lack of companionship and camaraderie, even more than a cry for love. It is the isolation incumbent upon your mode of singular, insular perception. This group, as enlightened as you are, carry a good number of conceptualizations which serve to place your insular perceptions into greater context, but those concepts are not yet truly a part of your overall experience. They are like items that you carry in your pockets, taking them out only when you intellectually deem it necessary.

“In response to Chandra’s distress, we gifted her with the conceptualization ‘You are loved,’ which apparently she had no difficulty in receiving. It was telepathic, but not completely of unitive consciousness. It was just a taste, a forerunner to what must assuredly transpire if you are all to survive in unity.

“As for the matter of Martin Dexter-- or rather, Martin Dexters-- there being two of them, we will quickly run into difficulty stemming from the imprecision of words. You sir,” he continued, turning to the man seated at the table, “I have great difficulty in naming. The closest approximation in our lexicon is that you are an egregore. You are an autonomous psychic entity appearing to have achieved physicality-- which to my percipience is not fixed. You are mutable.

“And the other Martin Dexter stands across the room as visible to my eye as each of you. We have learned to perceive the masks of souls. An Eternal Essence stands cloaked in the name and appearance of Martin Dexter. It is the true spirit; that much is clear. He penetrates and intertwines our living unity.”

“That telepathy thing-- how do you do that?” asked Colette. “Is that something we can do? Or maybe practice?” Discussions about Martin had always made Colette a little uncomfortable, especially now that it was confirmed that there were two of them.

The boy smiled. “It’s as though you can already read my mind. It is our intent to bring all of the adults here into the sharing of unity consciousness. The telepathic exchange of brief messages and concepts will serve as a beginning. We remember that the absolute transparency required to truly enter into unity seems almost insurmountable from your side of perception. Allow me to first instruct you on the simple procedure for telepathic exchange, and then I will expound a trifle more on the nature of transparency... if you’ll allow.” There were of course no objections.

“As a precursor to unity consciousness, telepathy can be rightly considered an energetic exchange. The human energy body is anchored in the physical at the spot in the abdomen a few inches below the navel. When the breath is drawn from this spot and momentarily held there, it is hungry for direction; it awaits instruction. The message-- in this case, ‘you are loved’-- is ‘voiced’ in the same space which the breath occupies. Then, simply, the message is exhaled through the portal of the heart as the recipient is clearly envisioned. That is the entire procedure.

“I encourage you all to practice it.”

Simple enough.

 



A Brief Note From The Anarchist

 

So I’m just hanging here in the cybernetic noosphere of the multidimensional internet, and a boatload of channeled material keeps circulating through my awareness. It’s astounding really how many inorganic beings purportedly have an interest in influencing human affairs... and how their audience steadily grows.

Channeling is a real and true phenomenon, the messages conveyed however... well, that’s my concern. I have always maintained that any information should be evaluated on the basis of its own “being,” its coherence and consistency, etc. A message should not be judged on the merits of the messenger or how it may have been obtained or delivered. The message itself is the only item of relevance.

I don’t wish to indict the whole field of channeled information, nor do I seek to make specific judgments here or there. However, I would like to offer the following insight to all readers of channeled information. Does it not strike you as somewhat odd that these messages filtering down from higher dimensional beings, supposedly having higher dimensional experiences well beyond anything lowly 3D humans can even begin to imagine are so terribly fucking boring? Certainly, if you only read a handful of such messages in a given year, they may seem somewhat stimulating and engaging to a certain degree; they’ll contain some food for thought. But as one indulges in these otherworldly missives daily, diving into the unrelenting torrent of voices spewing supposed wisdom, much or all of it begins to appear hollow, empty, vapid.

Think about it for a moment. The entities authoring this material are not shy about reminding humanity that they are themselves highly evolved souls, living an unimaginably unfettered existence, where the order of the day is unbounded creativity. I for one would at least expect such messages to be artful, masterly, ingenious... not boring, pedestrian and painfully repetitious. It’s kind of like buying volumizing shampoo from a bald man, or taking weight-loss advice from an obese dietician. I would expect a little more “wow” factor from those claiming to live next door to God. No, from my unique vantage there is really very little of novelty or originality in the vast majority of channeled material. The words chosen and conveyed are meant to be inspiring, but the way in which they’re put together usually doesn’t even qualify as bad literature. There’s nothing artful or poetic about it. If these are truly humanity’s mentors and guides, its most insightful teachers, the future promises to be dreadfully clumsy and artless. If they truly be leaders and guides, then lead by example... guiding sublime.

How about it ye immortal masters, enlightened dimensionals-- how about a tight little poem or a really poignant story, something that’ll make any sensitive human sit up and go “Wow! How does anyone even come up with something like that?” Yeah, how about it... instead of the endless blah blah fucking blah...? Show us a little dazzle from those nifty light realms you’re so very proud of! 
Consider the gauntlet thrown down...

 

 

More Musings from the Multidimensional Internet
The New Planned Obsolescence

 by The Anarchist

 

It was the corporatocracy who first came up with planned obsolescence. Especially in computers, communications and other high-tech gadgetry, the rate of product development has outpaced the typical rate of public consumerism. No sooner is a new product purchased, then suddenly it becomes relatively obsolete by the marketing of the latest updated model. A further aspect of planned obsolescence is the deliberate shoddy manufacture of goods in order to reduce their usable lifespan in order that consumers are forced to replace items at an unnaturally fast rate as the items routinely break down..

To the younger generations, perhaps this all seems quite normal. To older generations however, most of us can remember when a washing machine would last forty years, or the deep freeze would be passed down through three successive generations. Manufacturers have long known how to build products that last; they just choose not to do so any longer. Products are designed to last a certain length of time-- usually closely coinciding with the length of the manufacturer warranty-- and then quickly break down. Furthermore, once something goes wrong with a major appliance, the cost of repairs is almost certainly going to be nearly the same as the cost of replacement. It’s all deliberate; it’s all planned. It’s all “good” for the economy, and definitely bad for human beings and the living planet.

I would like to illustrate a new planned obsolescence. There’s a couple of things we need to take steps to deliberately phase out. The two main things at the top of the list would be corporations and government. During a certain developmental stage in the growth of humanity, both government and corporate businesses may have served a valuable role... something along the lines of parenting or mentoring. In humanity’s youth there are undoubtedly many hard lessons to be learned, and many or even most of those lessons are punctuated by mistakes... and their subsequent corrections. The youthful-- or learning-- stage comes to its natural conclusion once humanity is sufficiently schooled and outfitted to carry on in a sustainably independent manner without any further need to rely on governments or the products and services provided by corporations. The goal is self-reliance.

Again, I can attest that just such a goal has already been achieved on parallel worlds. How was it done? It begins when the populace first asks “What is the purpose of government?” And then, “What is the purpose of consumerism?” There must be a clear goal in sight. And in both cases, the clear goal for government and corporatism is their own planned obsolescence. Specifically, the purpose of government is to lead the populace to a state where external governance is no longer required, to craft a society which is individually and collectively self-governing and self-educating. Government knowingly and openly strives for its own eventual obsolescence. For government to adopt and pursue any other goal is wasteful and obscene.

In the case of corporations providing the world with various goods and services, the final goal of such is similarly to bring the populace all of the tools which foster total self-reliance. Corporations whose only motive is profit remain unlicensed. It is the public which grants the power for business to operate. Once the public is united in demanding its own sustainable self-reliance-- eventually without a corporate manufacturing sector at all-- the profit motive is clearly seen for the criminality it truly represents. Profit at whose expense? Everyone’s! Profit is an ignoble longterm goal and should not be suffered by any reasonably aware peoples.

For how long should a human population support entities working against its own self-interest? For only as long as such a populace remains unawakened to its own purpose and dignity. 

Governments and corporations have no intrinsic life of their own. Their “lives” are artificial, being granted by design or by default by human choices. Awaken to the new planned obsolescence humanity... lest it quickly becomes your own.

 

Discussions at the Round Table Part 2

 

“Unity consciousness is an integration. As such, it requires integrity. Transparency is the benign enforcer of integrity.” The teenage boy representing the Children’s Collective knew that he was merely sketching a rough outline through this discourse. The path toward unity consciousness could be a difficult one, particularly for adults whose habits of perception were already significantly entrenched.


“The main obstacle to transparency is shame. Everyone has skeletons in the closet, aspects of themselves and isolated instances from the past which they wish to remain hidden. There is a strong conviction that these ‘unsavory’ aspects are not true representations of the total person. Therefore shame is justified and supported. It seems logical and necessary to suppress them.

“What needs to be understood about unity consciousness however is that these ‘shameful’ incidents and aspects do not exist in isolation. In fact, they cannot be separated out from the whole. They are every bit as much a part of the total person as are the more refined and desirable attributes. All of one’s attributes serve as context and balance for each other. You cannot take just a portion of yourselves into unity consciousness and leave the rest behind. Perhaps you can see the obvious contradiction?

“At the moment of total transparency, when the soul becomes consciously unitive, the very concept of self-and-other is transformed. Whatever shameful admissions you may bare to the collective are instantly perceived as belonging to the collective-- along with all of the reasons and context, all of the thoughts and the feelings surrounding such shame.

“From your current habitual mode of insular perception, judgment seems almost natural. If we were to go around the circle right now, asking each one of you to share your most embarrassing moments, you would resist and feel uncomfortable. However well-articulated and thorough your recounting, you would each still fear that your justifications for acting in a shameful manner would come across as inadequate. Your own memories are unable to fully justify your past actions to yourselves, so you would naturally find it impossible to justify those actions to others. Therefore, you instead choose to keep them hidden.

“The special quality of unity consciousness however is such that the shared unitive mind which has been created through full participation is able to exercise a new holistic perception. All justifications are intrinsically understood in an instant. What this essentially means is that there is no judgment, for there is nothing to be corrected or forgiven. Forgiveness as an actionable choice is a precursor to unity consciousness. Once unity has been achieved there is no longer anything to forgive, for all aspects of what is are equally valued... and cherished.”

“You make it all sound so easy,” said Colette, “and almost inevitable.”

“I would choose the word ‘simple’ instead of ‘easy.’ And yes, it is inevitable... because we are One. That is the ultimate truth of our condition in this existence. All paths lead to integration; all roads lead to mind fusion.” The boy glanced over toward Mi-Fu in the corner, but the others seemed incognizant of the oblique reference.

It was Joseph who took up the conversation next. “I’m very intrigued by this idea of a whole new mode of perception coming online through unity consciousness. You’ve already expressed that it’s as though a completely different world of experience becomes available. And I must admit that all of the children here-- immersed in unity-- seem very much unlike my experience of children any time previously. Can you tell us more about the world of your newfound perception and experience?”

“Certainly.” The teenager smiled broadly. “Your whole stance in this existence-- as you are now-- is fundamentally oriented and dedicated toward demarkation. You habitually divide your experience into distinct and discreet chunks to be processed in a linear understanding. Linearity is simply a mode of perception which takes time as its foundational attribute. You define yourselves as being separate and distinct from your environment, from time, from your perceptions, from your experiences. You pour energy--continually and habitually-- into the illusion that these things are not you.

“But... you are a fractal of the universe. You are completely and precisely a universal fractal. There is nothing I can point to that belongs to the universe and not simultaneously to you. You are it, all of it. In this moment, you are a point of awareness that is unaware that you are already all of that which you may choose to experience. Your point of awareness-- the self-aware you that consciously knows you as you-- is like a candle, able to illuminate a small space surrounding your limited self-definition. You may choose to move the candle around in a linear trajectory, exploring novel experiences of yourself in a sequential manner, creating stories, lifetimes. It is what you have done countless times already. Or you may increasingly choose unity as time approaches... absurdity.

“Unity consciousness burns like a star, reaching to the far reaches of the universe, knowing itself to be the expression of light of the entirety, concentrated in a singular point of focus. Martin-- and now I am referring to the disembodied spiritual entity-- exists  somewhere between these two modes of perception. He shares both in aspects of the perceptions of the Children’s Collective as well as the traditional perspective of an individual, insular human being. My advice to you in this moment, Mr. Dexter,” and now the boy was speaking to the seeming empty space beside the kitchen, “is that no matter where you desire your further explorations to take you, always keep in mind that it is you moving through you, that it is you experiencing you. All of space and all of time from eternity to infinity is your own body. Claim it and then know it... through whatever experience you desire.”

“I’m still confused,” insisted Colette. And even Chandra nodded in agreement. “How can we all be having these many different experiences-- experiencing each other-- and it’s all really just ourselves experiencing ourselves? I mean, how can Chandra truly be me and me truly be Chandra when neither one of us is actually having that experience of the situation? Do you get what I mean?”

“I do. A year ago I wouldn’t have even begun to understand your question. And it may not seem like I’m answering your question now, but if you’ll indulge me a moment it might make things clearer... eventually.

“The objective universe does not exist. There is no part of ‘it’ that may be separated out and held up to scrutiny. We are each of us-- and there are trillions of souls here-- having a subjective experience of ourselves. Your insular perspective imagines an objectifiable universe. That is the basic nature of the illusion which even your greatest scientists have sought to capture and define. It is a ghost or an artifact of misperception.

“The reason why the misperception persists is that the trillions of souls embarked on this journey of subjective exploration keep finding commonality among themselves. Our experiences overlap; we find places and points of agreement. Our shared agreements about perception and experience present themselves as an objective universe; they are not. Does this help any?”

Colette sighed. “I’m afraid not. Now you’re talking about trillions of souls... yet we’re all one... what gives? I don’t even know what a friggin’ soul is! Are we one, or are we many?”

“We are both.”

“Somehow I knew you were gonna say that!”

“Let me take you all back to the beginning... before our experience of this universe began. The many-- our existence as individuals-- is sourced outside of this universe. Before all this began, we were each Eternal Essences within the omniverse. We were not created; we cannot be destroyed; each of us is unique and eternal. At some point, one of us-- let’s call him God-- invited us all to partake of a specific universal journey. God had set up the conditions within himself to facilitate a unique subjective experience of his own Eternal Essence in equal partnership with each of our Eternal Essences. Souls are the expression of this partnership and the vehicles of this exploration. Your unique soul in this universe is an equal blend of your Eternal Essence and God’s Eternal Essence-- fifty-fifty. Every traveller here is half God and half Self, moving toward greater self understanding.

“Our experience here in this universe is all one. We are all one within the body of God-- literally. At the completion of our universal journey we return to multiplicity in the omniverse. From our vantage in the omniverse, this universe is an objectifiable reality... able to be viewed from the outside. But while we are immersed in this universal experience in complete and equal partnership with God, all is subjective-- a cumulative experience of God and ourselves. Do you understand?”

It was Joseph who spoke as the others scratched their heads. “So... originally I came from outside of this universe-- which is the body of God. God invited me in to have a unique experience within his particular bounded infinity. In order to do that, I had to temporarily become a soul which is an equal blend of God and my Eternal Self. This soul is able to experience whatever it chooses within the body of God... as God and Self. God is the oneness aspect of this universal journey, whereas Self is the multiplicity aspect which transcends this universal experience. How am I doing?”

“Quite well,” assessed the boy. “Continue to ponder the situation of our universal juxtaposition and many more insights will be forthcoming. And eventually in unity consciousness it will become so very clear. I think we should abandon this discussion for now, as I perceive a bit of burnout in the candles around this table.”

“Agreed.”

And then the next voice to speak was wholly unknown. It had never been heard before inside Martin Dexter’s cabin. It spoke from the shadows... in the corner. “Regrettable. I was so enjoying this discussion... to which I can well relate.”

It was Mi-Fu! The android was awake!


Copyright © 2014 Niels Kunze, the author., All rights reserved.