A gift

A gift
Uncreated Creator source of all

gave an elect the gift of choice.

Now the fun part. Let us see what they will do with 'IT'.

Time is up.

How did you score?

Mixing a deadly cocktail

"A Protean Sputnik Moment"

Don Dali revisited

Surf's Up

Atomic Spin
c. 1995
Vacillating ideas
changing with wind
hitherto where I know not.

Where one wave ends~
~another begins~
~with a froth that mantles this union.

Focus into infinity,
relative familiarity:
causes heat from friction-
causes anger from fustration-
causes hatred from closeness-
Atomic Spin orbit a relative nucleus.

Where one wave ends~
~another begins~
~with a froth that mantles this union!

full moon boogie

i am a god in a godless society
i fall
i know there is no one to catch me-
there i find bouyancy
no time for complacency.
i am tall
as this world remains small
i know there is no one to understand me
there i find sanity
absolute umbrella to the lunacy.

for i am god in a godless society
there is where i find my bouyancy
a child progeny
no time for complacency
tho the world is small
i stand tall
out the of chaos
there is sanity
under umbrella
a becalmed lunar sea.

I am the son of the man who took your name

It is the absolute-
you wait for the harvest.
Harvest of what?
The harvester of eyes?
...just busy yourself in the interim-
knowing there will soon be pasta in the boiling water.
...........................Greedy little hand..........................

flash back

sticking out their greedy little hand
circa early 1970's
by a student of Protean thought

Doorbell rings,
its the season
and you know what's the reason
There's someone out there
whose after your share
sticking out his greedy little hand.

First to come in is the doorman,
he'll complain he's a poor man.
The janitor is next
on some weak pretext;
sticking out their greedy little hand.

Then there comes your superintendent's visit
he will ring your bell loud and long
you will open up and ask, "What is it?"
and he'll just smile and sing a christmas song.

Later on you'll get choked up
by the man who picks trash up.
For once in a year
its nice they're all here,
sticking out their greedy little hand.

Galacentralia

red sky in morning ~~~~~~~ sailor take warning

as Above so Below

the transition of Sophia dancing in the sea of forgetfulness

Sophia's black hole
momental lack of written his/herstory,
'black holes' in skip time,
It's polemic appears in each respective hemisphere one :for: one.
The Aztec wrote of the time when the sun refused to rise,
juxtiposed with the Chinese writings of a perpetual 'morning'.
Our Beloved, she has suffered more than 3 catyclysms in the past 12,000 of our years
as we face the dawn of another bottle neck.
The transition of Sophia
reunited with Her Consort
returning to the Source of Her sorrows
dancing in the sea of forgetfulness.
I love You
I am sorry
Please forgive me
Thank You

The Absolute Monad

break on through

through The Bythos Neck ~~~~ The Absolute Monad true source of everything which emanates the pleroma contrasted by the darkness of pure matter

So sorry you can't see

first moon waxing

Corpus Collosum

FRAGMENTS OF TRUTH

FRAGMENTS OF TRUTH
RICHARD INGALESE
AND
ISABELLA INGALESE

SOUL SLAVERY
pp.110-113
Those were strange experiences into which the
subjective minds were forced, by the Creative
Gods, and were as different from what they had
ever before known as night is different from day.
To put those infant, subjective minds among the
lower animals, was like sending helpless children
into a wilderness infested by savages, for those
infant minds were innocent and ignorant, and met
with the same fate that ignorance and innocence
always meet, when they come into contact with
grossness and brutality. They became enslaved
by those whom they came to help, and it was then
that Soul Slavery began upon this earth, when
animal minds enslaved subjective minds and made
them subservient to their wills. And, as those
subjective minds, or Children of God, sank deeper into
the material experiences of earth life, with their
animal bodies and animal minds, they gradually
forgot their divine origin, and their former states
of happiness, and, like the animals they had
espoused, they also became controlled by the
throbbing, burning emotions with which the animal
minds were filled.
But, in the heart of every Child of God, was left a
longing for better conditions. Vaguely, at times,
one seemed to realize that there was something they
had lost and wondered what it was. Sometimes
one could almost remember something of a former
state, when harmony had prevailed with them ; and
then, storms of emotions swept over them and
again one forgot, yielded to their animal desires and
sank lower into the selfish gratification of them.
After a time it was only on rare occasions that
one yielded to a reminiscent mood, that seemed
to take them back in sub-conscious memory to other
days of peace. Usually it was after a tragedy;
and, while suffering from the reaction following
it, or, in the stillness of a night when one was alone
with that strange, weird something they could not
see but sometimes could feel, they turned their
thoughts backward and tried to remember what
it was, that one once had, that had now departed.
And, after many reminiscences and disappointments
the thought came that it was happiness one
had lost, and it was happiness one must find again.
And when the subjective minds, or Children of God,
had finally reached the bottom of the pit of physical
and mental misery, into which they sank after
becoming enslaved by their animal minds, they
began to struggle upward dragging those animal
minds with them, and with, seemingly, nothing but
hope to help them on.
That the desire is strongly implanted in the
human-animal soul to know something about itself,
is shown by almost the first questions a child
asks when it begins to think and to speak coherently.
It looks earnestly and inquiringly into the
face of its nurse and asks:
Where did I come from, and how did I come here?"
It is the cry of the soul trying to remember its
origin; and, as the child grows to maturity, that
same question, many times unsatisfactorily answered,
burns in its heart and springs to its lips.
And it is really nothing but ignorance, concerning
one's origin, that has caused humanity's submission to
the bondage, either mental or physical, that has
chained them to a limiting environment.
To most people, the word slavery brings only
the mental picture of men and women who are
giving, to other individuals, the services of their
physical bodies without remuneration.
This is but one, and the lightest, of all forms of slavery ;
since, sometimes, the soul of one, whose body is in
bondage, is free to gain the spiritual happiness
that all evolving souls earnestly crave.
NEW YORK
DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
1921

gaze upon the Moon's reflection on a silver tray

Healing Hand Sacred Tree

transformation from a credulous child to the status of freethinker

"When I became convinced that the Universe is natural --
that all the ghosts and gods are myths,
there entered into my brain, into my soul, into every drop of my blood,
the sense, the feeling, the joy of freedom.
The walls of my prison crumbled and fell,
the dungeon was flooded with light
and all the bolts, and bars, and manacles became dust.
I was no longer a servant, a serf or a slave.
There was for me no master in all the wide world -- not even in infinite space.
I was free --
free to think, to express my thoughts --
free to live to my own ideal --
free to live for myself and those I loved --
free to use all my faculties, all my senses --
free to spread imagination's wings --
free to investigate, to guess and dream and hope --
free to judge and determine for myself --
free to reject all ignorant and cruel creeds,
all the "inspired" books that savages have produced,
and all the barbarous legends of the past --
free from popes and priests --
free from all the "called" and "set apart" --
free from sanctified mistakes and holy lies --
free from the fear of eternal pain --
free from the winged monsters of the night --
free from devils, ghosts and gods.
For the first time I was free.
There were no prohibited places in all the realms of thought --
no air, no space, where fancy could not spread her painted wings --
no chains for my limbs --
no lashes for my back --
no fires for my flesh --
no master's frown or threat --
no following another's steps --
no need to bow, or cringe, or crawl, or utter lying words.
I was free. I stood erect and fearlessly, joyously, faced all worlds."
Robert Ingersoll [1833-1899]

viral wétiko mind disease comes of age

Native peoples in North America had no written laws nor dogmatic religious codes,
only an ongoing dialogue,
verbal agreements were never etched in stone, but left open-ended, subject to change.
As long as you continued the ongoing dialogue,
violence as a solution to human conflict could be averted.

Historian Jack D Forbes and his work
Columbus and other Cannibals: The Wétiko Disease of Exploitation, Imperialism, and Terrorism
states that the overriding characteristic of a wétiko, a Cree word literally meaning “cannibal,”
(windigo in Ojibway, wintiko in Powhatan)
...an evil person or spirit who terrorizes other creatures by means of terrible acts…
By cannibalism Forbes does not necessarily mean eating the flesh of another human, but defines the concept in an extended metaphor as a form of spiritual dysfunction and psychopathic behavior, even insanity, in which in all its multifarious ways greedy predatory men have exploited and murdered and destroyed the cultures (most often indigenous peoples) of other humans deemed “savages” via war, colonialism and imperialism.
He tells us that for the wétiko, “Brutality knows no boundaries. Greed knows no limits. Perversion knows no borders. . . . These characteristics all push towards an extreme, always moving forward once the initial infection sets in. . . .
This is the wétiko mind virus disease of consuming of other creatures’ lives and possessions for profit.”

The “Wetiko” psychosis-
"I believe that the exploitative consumption of the earth, the living creatures of the earth, and, above all, other human beings and their homelands, constitute actual, real, unmitigated cannibalism. Tragically, the cannibalism of which I write has become more and more an acceptable part of modern economic and personal exploitation, with those who do the consuming giving little or no thought to the diminishing or even elimination of the lives of those at the receiving end of their quest for profit and super-sustenance.
...the accumulation of Wetiko deeds has accelerated to the point where we face severe environmental and societal hazards such as to threaten the very fabric of life on this incredibly beautiful and loving planet. We are destroying our home with our grasping after wealth, power, advantage, and materialism. We seem willing to push selfishness (individual and national) to an obscene degree."
Jack D Forbes

"Christianity without tears -- that's what soma is."

What you need is a gramme of soma.

He put away the soma bottle,

by this time the soma had begun to work.

"Feel how the Greater Being comes!
Rejoice and, in rejoicings, die!
Melt in the music of the drums!
For I am you and you are I."

Why you don't take soma when you have these dreadful ideas of yours.

She had inconspicuously swallowed half a gramme of soma,

with the result that she could now sit,

serenely not listening,

thinking of nothing at all.

(soma-less

and with nothing

but one's own inward resources

to rely on)

"Was and will make me ill,"

"I take a gramme and only am."
In the end she persuaded him to swallow four tablets of soma.

 She felt in her pocket for her soma --

only to discover that,

by some unprecedented oversight,

she had left the bottle down at the rest-house.

Ashamed, now that the effects of the soma had worn off.

Astonishment made her forget the deprivation of soma.

"What I had to suffer-

and not a gramme of soma to be had."

The return to civilization was for her the return to soma-

Soma played none of these unpleasant tricks.

(for on soma-holiday

she was most conveniently

out of the way),

Soma may make you lose a few years in time.

Every soma-holiday is a bit of what our ancestors used to call eternity.

She got her soma and the soma tablets within reach of her hand-there she remained;

and yet wasn't there at all,

was all the time away,

infinitely far away,

on holiday; on holiday in some other world,

where the music of the radio was a labyrinth of sonorous colours,

a sliding, palpitating labyrinth,

that led (by what beautifully inevitable windings) to a bright centre of absolute conviction;

where the dancing images of the television box were the performers

in some indescribably delicious all-singing feely;

where the dripping patchouli was more than scent-was the sun, was a million saxophones.

The Savage refuses to take soma,

and seems much distressed ashamed of his jealousy,

and alternately made efforts of will

and took soma to keep himself from feeling it.

But the efforts were not very successful;

and between the soma-holidays there were,

of necessity,

intervals.

The odious sentiment kept on returning.

Their soma ration.

"How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world ..."

"Soma distribution!" shouted a loud voice. "In good order, please. Hurry up there."

The Savage stood looking on.

"O brave new world, O brave new world ..."

In his mind the singing words seemed to change their tone.

They had mocked him through his misery and remorse,

mocked him with how hideous a note of cynical derision!

Fiendishly laughing,

they had insisted on the low squalor,

the nauseous ugliness of the nightmare.

Now, suddenly, they trumpeted a call to arms.

"O brave new world!"

proclaiming the possibility of loveliness,

the possibility of transforming

even the nightmare into something fine and noble.

"O brave new world!"

It was a challenge, a command.

"No shoving there now!"

"I shall stop the distribution unless I have good behaviour."

Deprivation of soma -- appalling thought!

"Stop!" called the Savage in a loud and ringing voice. "Stop!"

"Listen, I beg of you," cried the Savage earnestly.

"Lend me your ears ..."

"Don't take that horrible stuff. It's poison, it's poison."
"Poison to soul as well as body."

"Throw it all away, that horrible poison."

"But do you like being slaves?"

His face was flushed,

his eyes bright with ardour and indignation.

"Do you like being babies?

Yes, babies.

Mewling and puking,"

exasperated by their bestial stupidity

into throwing insults at those he had come to save.

The insults bounced off their carapace of thick stupidity;

they stared at him with a blank expression of dull and sullen resentment in their eyes.

"Yes, puking!"

Grief

and remorse,

compassion

and duty-all were forgotten now

and, as it were, absorbed into an intense overpowering hatred of these less than human monsters.

"Don't you want to be free and men?

Don't you even understand what manhood and freedom are?"

Rage was making him fluent; the words came easily, in a rush.

"Don't you?"

"Very well then,

I'll teach you;

I'll make you be free whether you want to or not."

Suddenly-

with spraying machines buckled to their shoulders;

pumped thick clouds of soma vapour into the air.

From out of the Synthetic Music Box a Voice began to speak.

The Voice of Reason,

the Voice of Good Feeling.

The sound-track roll was unwinding itself

in Synthetic Anti-Riot Speech Number Two (Medium Strength).

Straight from the depths of a non-existent heart,

"My friends, my friends!" said the Voice so pathetically,

with a note of such infinitely tender reproach that,

behind their gas masks, their eyes were momentarily dimmed with tears,

"what is the meaning of this?

Why aren't you all being happy and good together?

Happy and good," the Voice repeated.

"At peace, at peace."

It trembled, sank into a whisper and momentarily expired.

"Oh, I do want you to be happy,

I do so want you to be good!

Please, please be good and ..."

.... the Voice and the soma vapour had produced their effect.

Awful?

They don't find it so.

On the contrary,

they like it.

It's light,

it's childishly simple.

No strain on the mind or the muscles.

Seven and a half hours of mild,

unexhausting labour,

and then the soma ration

and games

and unrestricted copulation

and the feelies.

What more can they ask for?

And if ever, by some unlucky chance,

anything unpleasant should somehow happen,

why,

there's always soma to give you a holiday from the facts.

And there's always soma to calm your anger,

to reconcile you to your enemies,

to make you patient

and long-suffering.

In the past you could only accomplish these things by making a great effort

and after years of hard moral training.

Now,

you swallow two or three half-gramme tablets,

and there you are.

Anybody can be virtuous now.

You can carry at least half your mortality about in a bottle.

"Christianity without tears -- that's what soma is."

psychologist Stanley Milgram, we hardly knew ye...

the frailty
and
self-delusion
that are central to our lives
and
how easy it is
to make ordinary people
do terrible things-
Evil often happens for the most mundane of reasons.

The Experimenter, The Teacher
and
The Learner
He met an earnest young man in a white lab coat – The Experimenter - and a middle-aged Volunteer.
The Experimenter told that He would be the Teacher
and the Volunteer would be the Learner.
The Teacher's task was to give the Learner a simple set of memory tasks, which He would then be tested on.
If the Learner got an answer wrong, the Teacher had to give Him an electric shock.
If the Learner continued to give wrong answers, the shocks would steadily increase.
The Teacher had been placed alone in a room with a microphone and a set of electrical controls.
The Learner went alone in another room, where the Teacher could hear but not see the Learner.
The Experimenter began with a nod-
First recall query-
"Wrong – 150 volts."
Carrying out the task the Teacher had been asked to do,
despite the screams coming from the next room.
The Teacher continued to ask questions,
administering electric shocks when the Learner failed to answer correctly.
"Wrong – 195 volts."
The Teacher drifts in thought...
"You are sitting in that chair
with this stuff going on and
that pressure that you were under,
it's very hard to think clearly.
I've never had anything before
or since that
was like that.
Where you were literally out of your mind."
Back to the Teacher's desk...
"Wrong – 350 volts."
The Teacher sees the bell will ring soon...
"I just said to myself, I'm just gonna play this out...
pretty soon we'll be out of here.
I'm finishing this thing.
I don't care what happens.
Once you make the decision, you've made your decision.
I want to go home.
I want to get out of here,
go and...
get a beer
somewhere and...
go home.
You know?"
Back to the Teacher's administrative duties...
"Wrong – 450 volts."
The Experimenter asked the Teacher if He had thought He killed the Learner,
The Teacher replied,
"Yeah. When He stopped responding."

psychologist Stanley Milgram had asked colleagues,
"How many Teachers would go all the way and administer a lethal 450-volt shock?"
Most said less than 1 per cent –
and those would probably be psychopaths.
Yet this Teacher, like 65% of all the Teachers who worked with the Experimenter,
administered a lethal electric shock
when told to do so.

Playing with metaphor http://immanation.com/

Harvesttime Soma

The Divine Balance

Les Enfants Perdus epilogue

the lesson of the moth

 

By Don Marquis, in "archy and mehitabel," 1927

i was talking to a moth

the other evening

he was trying to break into

an electric light bulb

and fry himself on the wires

why do you fellows

pull this stunt i asked him

because it is the conventional

thing for moths or why

if that had been an uncovered

candle instead of an electric

light bulb you would

now be a small unsightly cinder

have you no sense

plenty of it he answered

but at times we get tired

of using it

we get bored with the routine

and crave beauty

and excitement

fire is beautiful

and we know that if we get

too close it will kill us

but what does that matter

it is better to be happy

for a moment

and be burned up with beauty

than to live a long time

and be bored all the while

so we wad all our life up

into one little roll

and then we shoot the roll

that is what life is for

it is better to be a part of beauty

for one instant and then cease to

exist than to exist forever

and never be a part of beauty

our attitude toward life

is come easy go easy

we are like human beings

used to be before they became

too civilized to enjoy themselves

and before i could argue him

out of his philosophy

he went and immolated himself

on a patent cigar lighter

i do not agree with him

myself i would rather have

half the happiness and twice

the longevity

but at the same time i wish

there was something i wanted

as badly as he wanted to fry himself

archy

SOPHIA—a feminine emanation

SOPHIA—a feminine emanation
  Gnostic cosmology describes the central sun of our particular galaxy as a living entity,
intelligent light plasma.
The ‘arms’ that extend and swirl out from that central sun are like ‘children’ of that core awareness.
These plasma extensions reach out to the periphery of the galaxy where solid matter is formed,
and this is where the play, construct destruct of material creation, is acted out.
These conscious extensions stretch out and form solid worlds
where living beings in infinite variety express individual ‘dream’ of creativity.
Acting as a benevolent, loving parent,
the central sun allows great leeway in the creative expression of its children
in order that they might learn the lessons needed through their acts of creation.
Planet Earth first originated as the inspired dream
an intelligent stream of light plasma extending from the central sun.
That stream of light was SOPHIA—a feminine emanation.
  Impulsive Sophia was so enraptured by Her dream of creation that She plunged into the realm of physical matter alone, without Her balancing male consort.
In doing so, an accidental aberration occurred.
Within Sophia’s dream of creation was an ideal for living, intelligent creatures that would become humans.
For that ideal to properly manifest, it needed to blend with organic matter.
However, in Her brash impulsive plunge, Her template for human creation blended with inorganic matter,
creating an aberrant species that could never properly manifest Sophia’s ideal for the human species!
Benevolent central sun deemed Sophia would be required to learn from Her mistakes.

  A portion of Her dream did successfully blend with organic matter and proper humans came into being,

yet they were now doomed to confrontation by their aberrant cousins
in the unfolding drama and competition for planet Earth.
And Sophia, not only formed Earth from Her dream
She actually became Earth.
Goddess Sophia literally morphed into the living planet Herself.
Earth is Sophia!
Earth the living mother of all humanity!
What has subsequently unfolded as human history is the
conflict drama
between Sophia’s intention for human expression
and its accidental, mirror competitors.
Only when humans ultimately discover this vital truth
and
overcome their adversary
will they achieve Sophia’s divine dream
for their destiny.

Getting back to the Source

Les enfants perdus revisited