TRASHING UTOPIA ~ A CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF CURRENT EVENTS PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR ~ CHRISTOPHER G. BURLEY INDEX

SUBJECT AND OBJECT-(SHORT STORY) 1995THE BOOK OF LIFEBASIC MULTIPLICITY-(BLIP)THE BLOCK-1985-(ESSAY)BIZARRO BORDERZEROTHE RUTABAGA MISSION-(POEM)THE MELON-(BLIP)THE ACORN-(BLIP)WHAT YOU ARE-(ESSAY)TURNING SEPTIC-(ESSAY)CHALLENGE-(ESSAY)WANT-(POEM)FEAR-(ESSAY)NOT COMPLAINING-(ESSAY)MEDIUM VIBE LIQUIDITY-(BLURB)THE ONE EYE WITNESS-(ESSAY)BEING THERE-(RAMBLE)SPIRALS-(ESSAY)ONE HYPOTHETICAL NIGHT-(STORY)CHRISTOS INFERNO-(BLURB)CARRYING THE VOTE-(BLIP)QUANTUM SNOWFLAKE-(BLURB)THE RESPONSIBLE OBSERVER-(ESSAY)THE DEVIL AND MULTICULTURALISM-(ESSAY)VANQUISHED VALIDITY-(ESSAY)THE DEAD WORLD-(ESSAY)MILK-RUN AND THE EXPRESS (OCCUPY)POTENTIALITY ROBOTICUS-(STORY)THE STAR WRITING APOCALYPSESONNYWISDOM AND WILL EPILOGUEOFFERED OPINION-(BLURB)AND FINALLY-(BLIP)READING LISTACKNOWLEDGEMENTSDEFINITIONSTHE THUNDERBIRDPREFACE It is being suggested that any phenomenon, including a thought or feeling passing through your head, involves a distinct constellation of dynamic influences. Hope and certainty are two completely different items. In a hazardous universe, failure to tell the difference can cost you absolutely everything. It is being noted that boredom is a form of pain, and thus, a possible down side to be knowing everything. The incomprehensible unlimited by definition has no parts, be it in time or space. Assigning gender connotation to parts is a necessary contradiction for any serious thinking. Whether you believe it or not, whether you like it or not, there is meaning to life. Planets are reaped, and the analogy of consumption is as brutal as it

sounds.If you are going to evolve into extended experience, perceive or participate inanything at all, you are going to have to deal with a technical equivalent of thepresent moment of someone else. The assertion that to evolve into a part of Thee Broader Present Moment requires ceasing the externalization of the enemy, is the mirror reversal of promoting hatred. Such is Intent.Omniscient Wisdom is being spoken of in the feminine.Omnipotent Will is being spoken of in the masculine.The re conciliatory embodiment of Conscious perception in The Unlimited is Thee Light. It's your trial. It's your sentence. It's your funeral. Christopher G. Burley (2015) SUBJECT AND OBJECT Once upon a time in a far away land, there did live a Magician Prince, but, alas, our highly becoming hero was alone, and an unwanted solitude of course, stings as much as having nobody around to blame it on. Now being a talented magician our ticklish friend took from his side, one of his own ribs and did create a mate. Oh, she was a lovely lass, very fair. Having highhandedly given rise to multiplicity, our shit disturbing shepherd was forced to address a number of slumber roused realities.First, the fact that Loving Her, (other, not I, object, that without) was his sole reason to be, and if he chose to view her as driven snow, he would have to take the wrap for all the crap in THE LIMITED DYNAMIC and THE STATIC UNLIMITED, UNIVERSE. No small matter this. He had to see clearly that the window of perception, seeing in general, loving, hating, experience, addressing challenge, bearing, the window between observer and that observed, was akin to a separate, quasi-autonomous individual identity entity and had to view itself as such. Next, the friction loaded fact that his magnetic attraction to her was so intense that it, like boredom, was a form of pain. He had traded one discomfort for another, and the only way to escape his present thorny situation would be to marry her, should She be agreeably interested, and in so doing, they two become one, in re conciliatory perception and viewed from a point removed, which of course leaves him back where he began, pinched by an unapologetic solitude. Finally, and about to burst into an understandable agitatedcacophony, our somewhat haggard adventurer scoped the sobering dawn...“ it has always been this way, and it will always be this way.” Now our stupefied, cycle-weary super-hero, understandably having his underwear in a wee twist, did look skyward and call unto GOD saying, “ with all due respect, who put the bug up your butt? I'm having a bear of a morning and scripture insists that ( for your pleasure were all things created ). What; did I accidentally ding your shiny, new, Excalibur motor car when I was valet at the Heavenly Hilton Hotel or something? And there did instantly appear before him, a radiant white sphere carrying the sweet scent of a child's promise and innocence. And yes! There! GOD!! Thee anthropomorphic image. She was very, very fair indeed ! And God spoke unto the puzzled investigator saying, " pipe down you fuzzy little; OK, what's the problem? A little cyclic terror? I know your species; I have a pamphlet here somewhere; OK, so physical and metaphoric birth and death lurk either side like two thieves, Eh? Yes, the running Taxes on Perception in The Unlimited have always been, and will always be brutal. Essential potential incarcerated within the conditioned existential is coal; the bearing, The Living, the ' friction' between the abrasives of subject and object are the only genuinely timeless diamond. Diamond or dust, is being versus not and this double-edged sword is relative dualism, viewed from a point removed, by THE LIVING, alone. The polar, dualism of birth and death is a thorn in the paw, nail in the wrist for all, and for some the last thing experienced. Would you think omniscience desirable? No search, no discovery. No sensation of awe or wonder. Sounds a static divine bore, no? We both know that everything is just a complex way to get the hell out of the house. If no thirst, no sensation of refreshment. If GOD got problems, they are bound to be big. Oscillating in and out of The Limited, between solitude and company, is a means to an end, and it's end in itself. Challenge is a commodity, and worth

only what will be paid. Rest only when the pendulum is upright, but never at rest. Either extremes are viewed a point removed, or not at all. Either you willingly, of your own volition, all by your lonesome, decide to put up with things the way they are... or... well, never have been at all! Perceiving both pain and pleasure is 51% pain, and the future is unlimited for those that opt to work it. The past is without measure, as are the number and state of evolutions' indolent failures. At least you have challenge, the periodic bliss of ignorance, and the exhilaration of revelation. Beats being a near complete waste of time, space, and groceries, don't you think? It is pointless to expend the slightest energy, mourning the end of those that choose not to chisel their initials into their potential for Real Life. They do it to themselves, they never were, opportunity by design. It almost sounds simple and pleasant to walk humbly with an omnipotentGod, but any blood, sweat and tears downstream from the summit, is a sub sectional segment of a larger, more concentrated version of the same". And GOD was gone.

COMPOSING, OWNING AND BEING THE BOOK OF LIFE

The realities of omnipotence, omniscience and a solitary Intent behind creation suggests that the human situation with all of its' complexities is, to a certain degree, a staged production and any serious search for a meaning demands an examination of all of the possible dynamic influences at play. The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is dropped, pealed, shredded, bleached and further processed like any other pulp log to produce the necessary paper bond for the project and the ink is a strange mix of blood, tears and ashes. The Book of Life is not a sterile list of names but more akin to an endlessly running round robin tournament with no playoffs and no seasons' finish. An author does an honest days’ work and retires for the night, but in his slumber is caught in a dream from which he never leaves. In his dream he arises from bed and leaves his abode, travels to another house where he is met by a hostile crowd, the mob promptly putting him to death. In this death the author literally awakens to begin his day, which of course ends in exactly the same way. This may make not being at all look good and if our hypothetical author is author of his own situation reality, it is all very strange indeed. Because the past is unlimited this state of being did not commence, but has always been and might best be viewed as circular, or as a snake endlessly devouring its' own tail. The reality of all possibilities being viewed from a point removed means that perception unlimited within a broader present moment must be part hell; perhaps fifty percent, and the question is of a constant volitional determination to be, with no absolute finality, pleasant or otherwise. Rising, working, retiring, being born , living, dying, all an infinite number of times a second is the same as an infinite number of times a day or a year, or a life. If individuals were offered an itemized bill outlining the cost of perception unlimited, some would refuse to examine it, some would take a look and dismiss it, some would suggest agreement but be incapable of a serious pursuit of consciousness, and then there is the handful, the odd genuine impatient. To one degree or another, all humans have an " isn't broke, don't fix it " attitude towards their ephemeral psychological conduct but small 'c' consciousness is pinned between birth and death, like the nose betwixt the ears, and cognizance of this reality may periodically be forgotten, but is never ever going to go away. Dying to one world, one state of mind, one plane of reality, so as to be born into another has always been a critical part of the broader present moment and has always been viewed from a point removed. There is someone standing right behind you, but this need not make the patient paranoid, but it might; it's a

hazardous universe. There is a 'carbon fiber' thread onto which any can hold; if there is a meaning to life, the patient is not being asked to do what can't be done, but this of course does not mean any is owed having perception. Just the opposite, there is a weight to carry and a duty to do so, and such is done completely of ones' own volition. Nobody has ever been coerced or cajoled into becoming someone, and being alive in the unlimited can only be viewed as appealing if challenge be viewed as a prized commodity. The concept of inertia was part of unlimited reality before the Moon began its' long fall into the Pacific. Some people insist they have seen elephants in a state of mourning over the sight of one of their group lying dead, but this does not indicate awareness of there being a consciousness, of a reality, before birth and after death as does the act of burial. The second human curse is the sensation of being an independent observer, with a viewed external other, and these two linear handicaps intersect, there, behind your eyes. The third line to intersect there, is an indication of a ' place' where there are very few but very large laws, a titanic struggle between the more base of instincts and the summit of cold, stainless steel higher intellect. The tendency is to seek and, or accept pleasure and avoid and, or flee pain, and viewing both as having equal footing must be just plain wrong. If the sensation of lemonaderefreshment is spoken of in a positive manner, the absolutely indispensable phenomena of thirst was already there. The Intent behind the Will of Creation, The Ultimate Consumer is a very strange ' place' indeed.

BASIC MULTIPLICITY Ultimately, the universe can be viewed as based on numbers, and if you know what the digits mean, counting backwards from nine is to walk the last steps to The Throne of God. Anybody can take a shot at the impossible; wrapping your brain around Absolute Unity and The Unlimited, by first editing out any and all multiplicities. No subject and object, sensation of I and not I, of being and not. It is difficult to avoid skipping straight from Absolute Unity to the tetradic, ( fourfoldness ) because the appearance of 'other' automatically means a border of Perception between observer and that observed and all Three of these players can grasp, see the situation from a point removed. The signature of this Framework Reality carries through every devolved cosmological level, and if you think of your field of vision as being square, face the fact that you live in an echo, agree to view all the dynamics of the limited from a point removed, and primarily within yourself, you are up. This timelessly static level of abstraction can be viewed as counter part to the limited, intentionally tainted, staged challenge of time and life as you know it; the ephemeral universe is a subsection of Being. It has always been this way, and it will always be this way, and it is being observed, even stressed, that boredom is a form of pain. For the sake of ourmentation, let us float that you work a serious days' physical labour, and arrive home to a favourite comfy chair. Ahhh, heaven. Perhaps, in twenty minutes you are ready to rise and move about a little; it does not take long for a motionless hinge to begin to stick. If for some bizarre reason you are stuck pinned in your chair, in twenty hours you will be in tears, in twenty days, suicidal. Anybody suggesting an interest in Perception Unlimited must eventually approach the question of why the multiplicities of subject and object, good and evil, and being verses not are a part of the human situation, and ultimately face the fact that externalizing the enemy is counter-evolutionary, and the fact that oscillating in and out of the limited existential universe is universal for absolutely all. In esoteric art, Noah is instructed to cut a window in the building on the upper deck of his Ark but given only one dimension, a cubit, perhaps expressing the movement from absolute unity towards multiplicity in general. If there is going to be an opening at all it is going to be square. Six, six, six, is called the sign of both the beast and man. Add the mathematics of matrimony and it explains the situation pretty well, if you let it. Everybody eats, everybody breaths, ingests experience, has a sensation of left and right, and lives with physical and metaphoric death on the horizon. Some have decided that these common denominators do not apply to them and that their condescending contempt for such nuisance bits of reality is noble, honourable, brave, and even holy. If I had to choose between working the split shift endlessly, verses not being at all; first I would sit

down and have a stiffdrink, maybe a little nosh, and I would have to take the work... but, that's me.

THE BLOCK For the sake of our mentation, let us work with the premise that you just happened to live in a perfectly square block of houses, with partially like-minded neighbours. You come together agreeing to landscape your block to convey known mundane matters, and, some admittedly abstract ones and to create an escape module, an Ark. These numbered concentric spaces are bordered by level seven, The Street, and beyondthat Perdition. The cascade orders the spectrum of visible light, the notes of the octave scale, a basic cosmology, and a clear indication of the direction in which Real Life lies. The word Way means Path. A.P.B. stands for (as per the border between levels four and five). The words union, unity, reunion and universe obviously share a common etymological thread. Uni is One. Perhaps the reason the word (university)shares this root is because the first places of higher learning were founded on the assertion, or assumption, that there is some sort of meaning to life, that is, a possible evolution into an extended experience. The cosmology is a psychological template that can be superimposed upon all of the observable, comprehensible universe, in anattempt to offer structure for your thinking. The note 'DO' sounds at both ends of every octave, and corresponds to The Unlimited. Be it of time or space you are not normally and naturally capable of fully wrapping your small 'c' consciousness around the infinite. Can only see a star so far. The word repentance is generally defined as (to suffer regret for things done or left undone). It is only in a vague or offhanded way being suggesting that to suffer regret will automatically lead to change. Theoriginal Greek word translated as repentance is 'metanoia' and means inversion, reversal, (change of mind). Time to turn and face the music. In The Unlimited, you can know pain and pleasure, or just pain, or nothing. If you wish to employ the Block Diagram for your thinking, a basic dualism is required. In or out. Anybody will from time to time long after finality. Perdition, (eternal death) alone offers this. Life in the Unlimited is challenging work; Thee Broader Present Moment guarantees a certainamount of suffering, but none of it pointless. A bird with one wing, is unrighteous, cannot fly, and corkscrews down. Take it or leave it. You have your seed-money small ' b' being, your potential in levels Five, Six, and Seven; you consume substantial bread of The Garden, level Five. You literally take shelter in level Six. Switching to figurative language, you stand in your front room looking into The Street, level Seven. The Street teems with the ephemeral divisions of nation, race, language, economics, andacquired, temporal organized religion. Your transitory sensation of having ' will' is as doomed as your physical hide. You can see and comprehend the patterns of the masculine and feminine , which are of The Unlimited, but extra-temporal Perception is what reconciles them, and lives at the center of The Block. Your sensation of subject and object, I and not I, and it's re conciliatory aperture is the key. You have the will ability to pursue consciousness, but it is a fist fight with the dynamics designed to try, to drag you off the dead end of the spectrum. In the crunch, externalizing the enemy is the same as hating the ' window' of experience Perception in general, and by extension, hating it's Uncreated Maker. Level Two, The Center, as Thee Anthropomorphic Image, represents (someone) dealing with the Colossal Common Denominators of Real Life in The Unlimited. Physically you are born, (one ear), physically you live, ( your nose ), and physically you die, (other ear). You were in a subsection of Thee Present Moment of another all along; it just never dawned on you. In metaphoric language, successful evolution is the reverse. You must (die) to the transitory ephemeral world, to be (born) into the extra-temporal. Recalling it all... well...That's Life. If it turns out there is somebody that can Trash Utopia, be assured, it is going to stay trashed. To work The Split Shift once, is one thing. To face the concept of doing so endlessly, quite another. What we are going to find out, is if you got the Parts to stay. Omniscience knowing, doesn't help you. If you try to lean on smoke, you are going to get scuffed up. Fantasy cotton-candy finality, is found to be

infidel suicide. Ultimately, all of the dynamic influences of The Limited Material Universe can be viewed from a point removed and is a difficult place to complain about anything. Some distill flowers and call the result, essence. The existential undertaking, efficiently sorts the handful of those prepared to carry the weight of seeing it all. This offered, psychologically detached ken might best be expressed by the symbolism of a pendulum at rest, that is, in upright or righteous. Preferential particularity is akin to insisting that the laws of physics like one, and dislike another. Calling the externalization of the enemy righteous, is to insist that GOD has an identity crisis. The Devil is very, very good, at what He does. To one degree or another he has all of you snowed. There is no evil, renegade god posing some terrible threat to, beyond reach of, a fluffy, nice One. Perception in The Unlimited is designated by a (square window) through which Him and Her view one and other, and everything and everybody else downstream. Some suggest that Gabriel is one of only four, (tetra) Archangels, ever mentioned, ever, anywhere. Tiny club, but for an extra-temporal member of THE FAMILY FIRM, an unruly mob. As potential you are a conveyance without an operator, asleep at the wheel, and dogged by myriad 'parasitic' dynamic psycho-demons. If you are the sort accustom to throwing around the word Heaven, the road there, leads through downtown Hell. The Machinery of Planetary Reaping is not obliged to tell the difference between a Buddhist and a Baptist, it just reads arrogance. Metanoia is measured against the road to Damascus. Important point of formal theology; someone, can make the dead alive again. Hope is a humble little trickle of moisture. Unfounded certainty tends to solidify into a brittle hard, pressurized, projectile. Fake gods, violent or not, all burn, unceremoniously. Were there no question, everything really would be a completely pointless waste of time, space, energy and experience. There is no slick, shiny, sophisticated evil. It is all that is vile, petty, niggardly, indolent, smug and small. The walking dead are a bomb. The second most frightening thing in The Universe is the fact that The Magician Prince makes no idle threats. Just does not bother. Absolutely everything comes out in the, cathartic, reverse flow, wash. Serve no good purpose to ' beat around the bush' here; many thoroughly average people have degenerated into toxic, judgmental bits of lint, and much worse, some have dragged the concept of God into it. Let us suggest a triad; Knowledge, Wisdom, and Understanding. As stated, omniscient Wisdom might be spoken of in the feminine. Must not leave Will standing about empty handed, how about Knowledge? As for the re conciliatory aperture of Conscious Perception in The Unlimited, the word Understanding could use a topsy-turvy flip. To Stand-Under. No metanoia, no turn, no chance, no life, no Way. With a sincere attempt at introspection it is possible to see the indolent, opportunistic tendency for a medicating man-made certainty to call ' itself' a noble, faithful, holy, belief; easier to see this in others than in 'yourself'. It is a rare and impatient individual that will actually work towards isolating, and 'drying out' their own purely ephemeral sensation of validity, in Phoenix watch, and it is obvious that evolutions' most spectacular failures are determined to calm 'themselves' by doing precisely the opposite, buttressing what is doomed. Modern medicine attempts to design and create a drug that will target and affect a specific problem in a specific cell and leave surrounding tissue unaffected. Modern satellite technology can deliver two different signals to two different dish receivers in closely adjacent target locations, and customers can phone to request changes. It is not that far 'out there' to face the fact that any humans' transitory sensation of autonomous will, or their attachment to any man-made temporal label, or generic, indolent assumption of being a valid player in The Limited or The Unlimited, can be laser targeted and selectively incinerated by Conscious Light, whether they actively, intentionally seek any changes or not, and, as walking about. The reasonable and the radical are difficult to reconcile in words, but, to actually have any part with durability Unlimited, gives inevitable part, with any other part of that which by definition has no parts, by way of being Unlimited. The number one most frightening fact in The Limitless; when dealing with The Magician Prince, in the long run, you deal with His WHOLE FAMILY. BIZARRO-BORDERIf you say to people " tell me quick, what's the opposite of death"?; you are always going catch the odd nink-in-poop, going to say life. Within a (polar) view of things, birth could be

called the counterpart to death, and life the 'thing' that connects the two traumatic events. Birth and death are two ends of same stick, and let us say that 'life',the stick, be pictured horizontally. If you insist on calling life the opposite of death, you can only be accommodated with the use of a different flavour of dualism, (relative), as in infinite vs finite, or being vs not. A circle viewed 'edge on' presents a stick, appearing to have two ends, but we, (ever so clever), know that both of these terminus are actually receding off into the distance, and in fact meet, some-where,over there. Let us now set our relative stick vertical, at right-angles to the polar dualism, and where they intersect affix a tetratic aperture, 'square window'. Hey, this is kind of like YOU. Birth and death lurking either side, your head has heard of the concept of a possible evolution into Unlimited experience, and the earth beneath yourfeet is as doomed as your transitory physical hide. The third nail to intersect at our 'window' of perception is (good and evil), and it of course must interact with the backside of our 'edge on' circle, you know, over there. You are on one side of all this, but to have perception in The Unlimited, REAL LIFE, TO BE ALIVE it has to be both.

ZEROTHE UNIVERSAL LAW OF MIRROR REVERSAL Obviously, there is no shortage of people that routinely throw around the concept of a single intelligent creator source to All, and of course that famous duo, Omniscience and Omnipotence. If you dare bring these creatures into your China Shop you have to deal with them being there. You know that old sophist chestnut, ' if God can do anything then God must be able to tell you one whopper of a lie, just to see if you got the brains to know when you are being lied to'. The universal law of mirror reversal is suggesting that some of the things that people get wrong, they tend to get perfectly backwards. In formal apocalyptic theology there is a basic warning against anyattempt to alter the words of prophetic esoteric art, but this is automatically something of a vicious little circle. If the warning is legitimate, originating from 'on high', then everything but the warning is thus suspect. In a hazardous universe, if you are part of a temporal religious tradition that demands that you take literally all you have and forbids 'critical intellect', insists salvation in buckling to peer pressure from 'people' claiming a monopoly on the truth, you are under assault from a specialized intentional dynamic influence called ' the false prophet'. The incineration of evolutions' failures is a technical matter and nothing personal. Up until your last breath, if you can't make conscious, constructive use of not knowing if you have Being in The Unlimited, the framework of Thee Broader Present Moment will crush you like abug anyhow. To come even and have any chance of surviving the travail of metaphoric birth you must see and accept the ' big tent' and all of its' players. The word Son, in its' evolutionary usage, obviously carries the re conciliatory connotation (offspring, parented, between birth and death) and carries the signature of the masculine, as does the Devil. Once downstream from Will, the undertaking runs its' friction-loaded course. The human mechanism instinctively mounts a fight or flight response to a perceived external threat or internal calamity, (disease, denial). The base animal tendency must eventually be juxtaposed to the counter-intuitive realities of successful human evolution, of Real Life. The psychological phenomena of externalizing the enemy can be examined in a similar manner within the offered maxim, As Above, So Below. The Living, view (yes and no) and any other set of extremes you got, all from a point removed. Always have, always will. You can run but you can't hide, and calling your hate ' holy' is like struggling to lift a board that you are standing on. When in pain,to recall its' counter-part is easy. When feeling fine, recalling its' consort requires a conscious effort and might appear an idiot pursuit. The limited, material, existential undertaking is intentionally designed to bring the courser and more common to the fire and allow the rare seed-money potential its' chance to decide whether or not totry to survive. The Ultimate Consumer is peckish, and this vacuum can be viewed as a cause and effect situation. The supra-petulant are hurling themselves into the toilet for a reason. Their contempt for Reason is peaking, and the fact that there is a God, is very bad news. If ninety-nine per cent of the people on this planet assume theyautomatically have an indestructible cohesion of identity, then the way things are, ninety-nine per cent have absolutely no chance of evolving. The indolence of assumption is one of the crown jewels of purest satanic nonsense and frighteningly common. Unfounded durability is felony usurpation, is bottom line, the back wall, the great equalizer, and a good place to begin the postmortem. If you are caught attempting to 'usurp the throne', assuming divine durability, or just allowing yourunrighteous demons control, you are in direct opposition to the Real God and this can never end well. The next level of inevitable perdition destruction is preferential particularity; if The Machinery does not know what you call yourself, how can it treat one different from another? The divisive labels of language, race, nation, ephemeral religion, simply do not register with the laws of physics, and you are facing La Machine Reap. If you attempt using the man-made rot of 'extraordinary status' tojustify violence you are off the meter, way beyond ruin. If you are a fake god, who is the last one you want to show up? Now you know why there are so many stars in the sky. The

expression 'throwing good money after bad' springs to mind. It is pretty rough to face the fact that those considered to be cultural heroes are the most rotten of road kill. The note 'DO' corresponds to The Unlimited, and for some, their sentence at the spectrum's dead end is growing exponentially; no peace of not being at all. If you have an elaborate pseudo-religious tradition of externalizing the enemy, just hearing the way things really are, bound to start screaming that your concocted validity is under attack. It is tempting to harbour a pseudo-holy 'red herring', but keeping that bug up your butt is evolutionary suicide. The rise and fall of terrestrial kingdoms is a part of the dynamics of the undertaking, and to decide, out of the blue, that your God is on your side is more than a little opportunistic. The rain is made fall upon the just and the unjust alike, and no matter what you call yourself, one thing you can be certain of, the machinery of evolution has never heard of the label. You do not have to be capable of reading to behold the imagery of a seed or The Cross to see what the universe is going to do to the ego. In more ways than one, welcome to His world. The common denominators of Life in The Unlimited can do without a label, but, that said,I live in The Temple of The Highly Holy Rutabaga. I'm the only one here; must be the head honcho. The word Church means Congregation. Most of evolutions more spectacular failures would have been much better off as deists, never having heard of the concept of revelation. There is an inevitable tendency toward external attachment to both agreeable friend and disagreeable foe, as if successful evolution had anything to do with either, let alone depended on such. Modern psychiatric medicine, no serious doubt, employs some clinical term for what we might call 'projection'. Those convinced that it is their duty to turn the planet into a theo asylum, assume that the quasi-sane part of the world is equally determined to impose the right to critical intellect upon them, which of course would constitute the ultimate evil threat. Their fear of, and contempt for The Feminine has everything to do with their sensation of other, and threatened bogus validity. You know that old chestnut, ' I doubt everything, accept, that I doubt; that I doubt is the only thing about which I am absolutely certain'. Certainty is like a cut of meat, eventually it goes from being (for some) highly appetizing, to quite the reverse. Certainty is used for calming the self. A drowning man will grasp even for the blade of a sword, but it is fear of painful challenge that pushes evolutions failures down the drain. It is tempting to feel that all will be well provided that you obey somebody. Problem is, there is no guarantee that anybody around you is Alive, let alone that what they try to feed you has any part with The Truth. The human mechanism isn't junk, and it is not just a containment vessel. Without going into the parts, or the function of the parts of a brain, we might simply assert that an individualbrain cell has a spatial, physical individuality, but partakes in the mental activity of the entire organ. If God has got problems they are bound to be big, and like it or not, these problems now are yours. To use a severely compact scale, if you are going to evolve into extended experience, you must cope with landing two distinct levels ofconsciousness above your terrestrial norm, and the first of these is a subtlety superior introspective awareness. A sincere attempt must produce a graduated list of client demons, booked to burn. Trouble has arrived in the atomic and flying your ship into the Sun is the only way out. No brownie points for fasting, no instant development.Conversation from gut to head says you must spar with and master the damn clients or you never were. This covers every possible pious crumb. You physically perish, no matter how, you go into a system you know next to zip about. Entertain a bogus assumption about anything, call indolent cowardice ' holy', and it will cost you absolutely everything. You just happen to be on the planet at the commencing of an epoch called 'sorrows', and if you drop dead tomorrow you really must come back and see it; you really, really must. If we were all on the other side of some other galaxy, every stick there would have two ends, every circle an inside and out, and the quotient of One divided by Three run endlessly off into both the past and future. Such common denominators infuriate the power mad. It is obvious that the people ruling many nations are criminally insane and some are way beyond 'run of the mill' walking dead. To call them hostile to the concept of being Alive would be a charitableunderstatement, and it is difficult to imagine what the deprogramming of this tragic mess will look like. Some are an educational example of 'making a living' out of externalizing the enemy

and crowning themselves with the attributes of divinity. The wardens of these Frankenstein asylums are under indictment for crimes against God, the Universe, and Reason. Any temporal aggregate of people has some doomed, unbecoming qualities and some of the concocted 'laws of men' are pure nonsense.The days business is done, the doors closed and locked and it is just you and the brutal, ruthless, machinery of evolution left in the place. You do not argue or negotiate here, at best you can ' litigate', try to demonstrate a willingness to 'take the wheel' and navigate the endless challenge of Being. Some folk take great pride in their inability to literally sit still, calling it industriousness. Psychologically speaking, be zealous in your attempt to 'sit quietly in your room'. Everybody eats, breaths, entertains a sensation of other, and lives with death lurking on the horizon. In the figurative metaphoric language of The Broader Present Moment, consumption is the essential potentials' development at the persona's expense. Respiration is the expansion and decommissioning of the limited, (time as you know it). Being in the long run requires; 'other' as driven snow, (taking responsibility), and of course, omniscience lives with timeless cognizance of the split-shift. If you force-feed your children toxic particularity propaganda, they will suffer for (the sins of the fathers), and as for the fathers, all of this will be compounded. It's your trial, sentence, your funeral. After infancy, and quite aside from the organized hatred of pseudo-religion, psychological violence is as common as dirt, and a natural consequence of the subjective, autonomy-tainted, measure-demanding aspects of the transitory ego construct. Just got to judge oneself favourably in comparison to somebody else, hell, anybody else. A highly uncommon human can have a photographic memory, total recall, be well versed in most everything, but worship at the alter of mind, and from evolutions point of view be an essential cripple. Genuine evolutionary durability is largely ineffable but the difference between a cherub and an arch-angel is the proverbial squaring of the circle. The recalcitrance of assuming persona validity is equally and inversely proportional to the distance you are from having any chance of evolving. Being Alive means taking responsibility, and they don't take attendance at 'university'. Whether the chalice is half full or half empty is not the question, bordering the void has part with both inside and out, and neither. The difference between (Love of God) claimed, and having Congruous Durability must eventually be approached and measured and assaulted and ascended and breached. Evolutions more tragic losers find comfort in emoting that a certain percentage of creation is just a horrible mistake, and that all they have to do is patiently nourish the bug up their ass until god arrives to apologize. People in general, indifferent, or bogus religion afflicted, have had plenty of time to ponder the concepts of Good and Evil and be sucked into the trap of feeling, assuming, deciding that they are on one side or the other. Birth and death, challenge verses not, and good and evil are three lines intersecting at a common location. The perdition-particles, (evolutions failures), are the vapour trail receding from this endlessly meandering, boredom fleeing, singularity snowflake.Strange the way things turn out. Wisdom and Will live on a moving train, incessantly searching for that which they both know cannot ever, possibly be found. As for The Limited, it is not contradictory to assert that there is nothing impossible for God, and, that everyone got to eat. No more, no less, The Broader Present Moment, The Ultimate Consumer. Some sincere, serious thinking people, employ a general rule ofengagement that says, ' it is impossible to describe in words a state of consciousness'. Borderline oxymoron as it is, a constant attempt to break the rule is an irresistible challenge, perhaps, is indispensable. If, all by your lonesome, you decide to try to launch a respectable probe of The Mysteries, and try to employ the cosmological optical prosthesis of The Block Diagram, it would serve you well to try to be aware of the all pervasive, Universal Law of Mirror Reversal. If standing on Earth, it is generally accepted that down is towards it's center and up away from it. Picture the orbital path of the Moon and expand it into a sphere surrounding the planet. In our cosmology this Lunar Sphere is down, and the blue-green scum onface of the earth (organic life) is pinned between it and the center of the planet. Picture the orbital path of Earth about the Sun and expand it into a sphere surrounding the star, and we shall call this the Terra Sphere. Let us picture All Planets of the solar system as one mass,

(including any renegade debris), and all of their orbital paths as one, and of course, expand it into a sphere surrounding the focal point of the system, the Sun, and call this the Corona Sphere. It is safe to suggest a point in space at the center of a roughly disk shaped Milky Way Galaxy. Whether a body there, or a black hole, or generic space, we can call this point the Galactic Sun. We now estimate a distance from there to the Local Sun, hypothesis an orbital path about the Galactic Sun, and expand this into our Solar Sphere. Now for some serious distances. We hypothesis a point in space, at the center of a roughly spherical limited material universe, (every atom accounted for), estimate a distance from there to the LocalGalactic Sun, hypothesis an orbital path about the center, and expand it into our Galactic Sphere. Situated at the center, The Limited Sun, any direction we point a finger, eventually run out of atoms and hit The Unlimited, which, by definition, is omnipresent. A complicating ' influence' emanating from The Limited Sun must travel downstream according to Law and first report to every Galactic Sun, and thus effect this galaxy, this solar system, this planet, requiring passage through our lowly Lunar Sphere. Every descending step works this way and leaves you in a complex dynamic place. If life is giving you lemons, remember, things are worse on the Moon. What youhave in common with the vantage of The Limited Sun is, might as well look for Life in the Here and Now. The indolent fantasy of a cotton-candy finality, is that ever growing 'sucking sound' and it is coming from the Moon. The Devil is what has you place Him without. There is a tendency to watch oneself when being a charitable lovely. When being a nasty judgmental dink, it just unconsciously happens. Moving up the evolutionary, cosmological chain requires focused attention. Going down the toilet requires none. The note 'DO' beckons both up and down but only pushes the later. One way to clean a filter is to reverse the flow, but this releases a supra-concentrate of the contaminates collected. Current events finds the human persona increasingly sensitive and revealing it's hissing snakes. The Devil is in the toxic little details, and toxins routinely migrate toward and through concocted boundaries. People insist they cannot be environmentally responsible because of the economic weather, which is whipped into a storm by those of little or no conscience. Finance claims the same autonomous validity as nation states which are burning the ground everybody stands on. A scaled up version of the Jim Jones massacre; concocted authority is threatened so if everybody dies, this must prove the validity of borderlines, economic and culturalparticularity and externalizing the enemy. Whether in matters of planetarystewardship or the concept of a possible evolution, in the crunch to dismiss the common denominators, higher or lower, is suicide. Like the Box Jelly fish, the rest of the blue green scum on the face of the earth has a simplistic nervous system and weapons. For all you know this organic film may plow itself under and there arise another crop of potential and walking dead. Perhaps the collective yield from this round can split-shift post the next. If the universe makes any sense there must be love without doubt somewhere, but power without guilt is absent, even in The Unlimited.Hope and certainty; everything depends on your telling the difference.

THE RUTABAGA MISSION Thee Most Highly Holy Rutabaga is, but not on, a mission Ears reconciled by your nose, downstream signature of The Family Firm Undertaking was born, obviously does live, and eventually will come to term

Common denominators of the limitless ken, are on both sides of fission Fall and saw and split and haul, firewood, five times it fights off the chill Can walk and chew gum, torment a stanza, wonder why nothing come Quadrangle-centric, synergy sum, superior to the list of parts, can be done Cook my own meals, wash my own dishes, last gasp of transitory will Brutal analogy natures' consumption; combustion, digestive juices and such Feel the photons upon your face, dead wood burning, princes some Hey there stardust, born in fusion, as fake gods burn, there, in the sun We are going to discover if you'll pay to live, and, exactly, how, much Put some sentimental syrup, on my purge floor, not whole wheat, pancake Constantly must categorize and rank the things to take dead serious Must be in the cupboard, cooking dynamic stew, strange spice the spurious Unleavened bread is static; evolutions' failures bubble, no substance, fake A quadruped can not set out a fire and cook a rutabaga, a human, yes Could say a cooked one is a raw one with the extra smarts only a human add Possible to cook for the Ultimate Consumer, with Light, boil off the bad Evolutionary introspection inevitable, you can already see, Satanic distress Muscle a weight to a summit top, just to let roll, is that grin idiot or sly? The Aperture betwixt Her and Him counts as the tables' third living player She sometimes seems the most unlikely of professional demon slayer Limited practical challenge, no joyful reunification without initial goodbye To externalize the enemy, under a holy guise, is to despise Intent, perception Pledged your heart and Soul, mind and body, to the devil we hear Problem is got no soul dim-wit, want to go where? wouldn't start from here She's not drumming her fingers in wait; no lunatic, fantasy, virgin reception Could drop physically dead at any old time, still not completely clean No students to guide; to pay for experienced help Dying, rather rare type Turn to face the music, struggle to take the wheel, or you're just toxic hype We all need her vantage; last thing you think of, last thing to be seen Doctors' most important diagnostic instrument, tell me where it hurt Tempting seek comfort clucking, thank goodness not as screwed as that Dead is dead, sentence long or short, lukewarm or lunatic, just lost combat Can not speak uniformly negative of pain, it is instructive, it does alert World on the brink, something is turning it more suicidal every day Animator of the doomed percentage of persona, mourning loss of transitory ken The ethereal Consciousness need trump ephemeral stupor, only Life then Most are quick to throw in the towel, buttress the ego, in the grave stay A river runs through it, purest, odious, toxic, near senseless, tragedy The mega-fake or indifferent, a scent of hopelessness and desperation Rather be destroyed forever than face that autonomy has an expiration Childishness is peaking, rather be master for a breath, than see ecstasy That eccentric fleeing couple, living on an incessantly moving train The slightest hint that you can negotiate, who the hell can help you? The roaster, blanch-er, grinder can not kill this nut, I love her too

How did I end up sandwiched in this waylay? Hell, I avoid pain Not some broadly smiling, pseudo-mystic, beneath an orange blossom tree Fake gods are dangerous, but nothing compared to the genuine item The Mysteries are a tangle, but if you can read em, you can write em You can't comprehend the reckoning coming, talking absolutely, fluff-free No limit flop, oh, flush, oh, it's straight, oh, to the ace, do spades help? Always gluttons for punishment, the fantasy assumption of being a player The petty peddlers of particularity, the absolute zenith of nadir betrayer Keep betting if you want, I'm all in, rather be a whale than a kelp No personality cult here, inevitable unflattering mirror, often tedium dull Disciples sawing logs, disappointing din, suggested that you stay awake Not telling you again, not a saving obedience, tell you for your sake Impatience odd virtue, settle your domesticated outrage, or gone in cull Intelligent design eh? as if opposites, it sorts the living from the dead One that can look right through you, bound to be bound up in your shame The percentages are brutal, sweat blood or it not matter what you've read Blame it on me, but me alone, system survived, the source of your pain Hope you are developing an ear for convoluted logic, it's a sinking lead Embodiment distance all to fall, falls on other side of planet, in the rain Reaping is reaping, it not much matter if he a grim fellow or not, it said Perfect storm brewing, weeds and wheat, dead is dead, it's all the same Through the wringer, punch drunk brothers settled, both refuse the bed The multi-headed Hydra will always gladly, boastfully tell you its' name Got a bad clam in a wise-guy wine-bar, toxic poison have been fed Wood is bleeding worm, colossal reversal whiplash, the Devil found lame Time to end the occupation, war in heaven, is war there, in your head All those around you may not be real, bet all, lose all, costly fantasy claim Vengeance is His, medium is Matrix, the crunch is end of the bifurcated Omniscience, the Split-Shift and toxic fake gods, dejà vu all over again To borrow some words from one Arther Guitherman, a poet himself Cesar's dead and on the shelf, And I don't feel so well myself THE MELON For the sake of our mentation, let's say we have a nice ripe melon, and its’ interior is something of a mystery. We take a sharp knife and make two tiny, intersecting incisions to remove a wedge-shaped segment, and give us a small glimpse the orbs' interior. The melon is The Limited, material, existential, ephemeral, temporal, transitory, dynamic, intentionally tainted, utilitarian Universe; uncreated, primarily to deliver challenging experience to Him and Her, and secondarily, to sift the handful of people 'thirsty' enough to wish being absorbed into their Broader Framework Present Moment. The wedge-shaped slit is all that you see. Accumulated natural science allows you to know that there is a 'world' beyond both ends of the spectrum of visible light, but the infra red and the ultra violet are just a scratch. You know that some of the stars in the sky are long gone and the light only now reaching you, (seeing time), but this is just a tantalizing little blip. Where things become more serious, and intimately personal, is now that The Broader Present Moment is beginning to x-ray you, and eventually will cause the doomed sediments to slowly and painfully burst into flames. It doesn't matter how near or far; Omniscience, The Machinery of Evolution, and Inevitability are all perfectly real, and you can't lean on any of them. A certain percentage

of humans insist the universe owes them life, as Him and Her insist it is not owed to them. Only the genuinely durable are right. THE ACORN There is a thing, or culture, or 'world' described as Judaic Christian. If you can't live within quasi-sane, realistic, representative, transparent, secular law; The Machinery of Planetary Reaping, will chew you up, and spit you out. Some very prosperous nations teach a 'spun' version of history. Any humans interested in a possible evolution into extended experience, must eventually be prepared to examine how a planet is reaped; why The Living have to remember the trauma; and see that impatience is an individual matter. In these turbulent times, perhaps what the world needs is a nice, new, neutral, nonthreatening, nondenominational, nomenclature, a la nut. For the sake of our mentation, let us say we have a fresh, green acorn and for some reason we want what is inside. If we attempt to 'shell' this beauty in its' present state, we are pretty much guaranteed to bruise, or in some other way injure the 'meat' of the nut. What to do? Let us set the patient out in the sun to dry. As the moisture evaporates, the shell hardens, its' colour changes, it darkens slightly, and perhaps separates a bit from the interior of our subject. In the fullness of time, a masterful, well-placed whack, fractures the imprisoning containment vessel revealing the object of our interest. The words thrash and thresh are brutally similar. Sometimes, ground is spoken of in the feminine (mother earth), and seed in the masculine. Incubation ends with the seed 'dying' unto itself. Human metamorphosis involves environment, development, and expense. WHAT YOU ARE If you lie you are a liar, stuck with the liability being, of a liar. If you steal you are a thief, stuck with the being of a thief. Lying and stealing are definitely (registered acts of consciencelessness) and yes, whether repentant or not, you will suffer the appropriate death. It's not so much the goods and trust lost, or the inconvenience cost by such Misdemeanors as is the fact that nobody really Alive is intimidated by the mindless machinery of evolution, or Thee grand sentient Being. It is ' implosion' due to aversion to taking responsibility; (no parts). As in relative, paying for some things is much more painful than paying for others. Suggesting that the universe owes you life, is a Five Star Felony, and whether it Wisdom, Will, or Being, The Unlimited by definition has no parts. The difference between a pick-pocket and a fake god is a measure of degree; of arrogance, and from an admittedly abstract point of view, it not much matter the distance to fall, the length of sentence, because dead is dead. If you loiter at one extreme of a pendulums' possible movement, hurling abuse at it's other extreme and calling all of this righteous, technically, you are (too stupid to be alive).No matter how people stumble upon awareness of it, the fact that there is a chance, let alone a guarantee, that their thoughts, feelings, and opinions mean absolutely nothing, causes the human mechanism to quickly (circle the wagons); 'I sit a monarch, upon a throne, and know no sorrow'. Can't choose your parents, can choose your friends, as for your enemies, a complex question that can only be addressed if Alive.How dare the 'physics of the grave' dismiss your sanctioned assumption of divine durability and moral superiority? The petty little mind of the transitory ego has a remarkable ability to morph this tragic crap into something noble. Defending the right to indifference, faced with the inevitability of the wringer, insisting sovereignty over the arena, (mind) is deemed a legitimate, even honourable duty, a strength, until found turning in the toilet bowl. The Cannons of Reality labeled as intrusive. Humans in general face a catharsis, either transforming or terminal. In this process there is no middle ground, you're either nourishing your fantasy illusions or starving them, you are either throwing taxing conscious light upon your doomed client demons, or letting them pilot the conveyance. A sincere attempt at

focused introspection can, in time, at the expense of the parasites, cause the miraculous appearance of a single operator, a quasi-legit, tentative, ability to say, " I am ", and eventually to the $64,000 question. Who there is watching the watcher? Just as anything else that meets the criteria of Thinghood, (limited in space and born to die), if you do nothing, 'It' is recycled. A rock may or may not suffer being broken down into sand, but only within the 'world' ofrocks. You are not the acme of creation, but you can see the summit, if you got the parts to look. Trillions of eons before the present expansion of The Limited, at a raucous board meeting of The Family Firm, it was suggested a painless way to distill a yield from an undertaking. You can see the way that turned out. It was (so-to-speak), voted down as insipid. In fact, The Patriarch Total Power was so agitated by the entire sorted affair, He accidentally folded the limited 'existing' tent at the time. He intervened personally on some little planet somewhere to scratch an itch on some little girls' nose, which of course blew 'everything' to smithereens. He has always been vulnerable to these driven snow girls, (drag Him into murder, you are nuts). Some speak of an earthquake, or a murder, or a hang-nail and with routine speed declare it 'the will of god', before or after the fact. Such a habitual flight from thinking, does you no good and cannot go on forever, if only because to evolve requires 'litigating' against the mindless machinery of planetary reaping, and this, you alone must do. Yes, existence as you know it is downstream from Will, including all of the dynamics intentionally designed to keep you in an unconscious somnambulist coma, externalizing the enemy, and encouraging the opportunism of declaring it all, ever so ' holy'. Perdition feeds as sure as Life. Both nature and mega-dead people, periodically require death, and lots of it. Both can be a sign of the times, or happen at any time.Nature and the false prophet are not punished for this; false martyrs are. There is an unnatural storm coming, that is going to knock absolutely all of you flat. The concept of suffering for Righteousness' sake has been around for quite some time now. In The Unlimited, to remember anything at all, to walk away, this, as potential, is, what you are. TURNING SEPTIC You don't have to be a theo fascist or indifferent to Life, to be among the ' walking dead'. Some try to cope with the inevitability of the grave by simply deciding that they have divine durability and are owed life in abstract reality, which of course, is pure satanic nonsense. Some of these indolent, opportunistic losers, would be murders even without dragging the concept of god into things, and ultimately, are those that spend the longest time wishing that they never were at all. If you bet it all and lose, you lose it all, and the closer that the worlds' more spectacular failures get to their sentence in at the spectrum's dead end the more pissed they are becoming. The anti-upright fake gods are ' peaking' and the approach of Reason is hardening their desperate grip on doomed, convoluted logic. If they do murder; 'will of god' ; if they force the rest of the world to scrape them from the face of the earth; off to their cotton-candy reward. It is all tragic sour grapes, evolutionary suicide; shit, concocted by the walking dead and petrified into a mega-dead subculture. Put as much fluffy religious topping on things you like, murder is murder, dead is dead. Preferential particularity, plus indolent fantasy durability, equals, the perfect storm of toxic tantrum. The Undertaking, people in general, are ' turning septic' due to thephenomenon of ' bounce echo'. The Magician Prince, prior to his execution makes the assertion that," the prince of the earth is judged", which means having been through the wringer; transitory labels dismissed as illusion, ephemeral sensation of will evaporated or ' bled' away, allowing Him to Understand that 'posting' the planet was a severely extreme form of performance art, expressing the same metaphoric death. None can get up and walk away without facing this. For the sake of our mentation, let us work with the premise that the Magician Prince makes good on his threat to return, and again survives 'metaphoric divorce' from ephemeral, small ' r' reality. The planet is awash with bizarre, fantasy notions of what judgment, ascension, successful human evolution is, and how it all might work. We speak now of The Real Thing, and the implications of someone being 'system survived', and still walking

about. Such a one would actually have inevitability in his pocket; have part with La Machine Reap and thus be the embodiment of exactly how far everybody had to fall. People in general, older than two years of age, have an acquired persona, a certain percentage of which is a 'doomed thing', and has its' own purely utility animation principle, it's own limited, transitory, little mind. Genuine cathartic transformation involves tracing absolutely everything back to the source; The Family Firm, and facing their signature; yoursensation of left and right. There has never been a time when the Masculine and the Feminine were not reconciled by the embodiment of Perception in the unlimited. This 'uncreated' plane of Being is both, beyond the edge of the limited, and omnipresent; both sides of the border of the normally comprehensible. The Magician Prince has hit the back wall, and current events are exhibiting a 'reflux echo' of the impact; extremely painful news for any human persona. The limited, material, undertaking involves dynamics and sub-dynamics. Capital 'C' Consciousness (Light) is converted into words; genuine prophetic esoteric art, Thee Mysteries, in general. The thought demanding complexity, is a dynamic, as is the absence of immediacy in thepunishment of the obviously evil, and the fact that most live their entire lives never seeing the miraculous. Humans transform what they have into, ( for lack of better words) a ' faith system' and sometimes completely bastardize the Art for base, mundane purposes, which in turn creates a class of sub-dynamics. These are the more volatile bits of self-serving rubbish; medicating, calming, pedantry; obviously some cultures outgrow and abandon things, while others will cling to primitive crap by simply outlawing critical intellect. Organized religion is automatically somewhat idiot in that there are more than one of them and involve some exceptionalizm; sectarian is nonsense squared. Temporal, secular law may allow idiot conduct, but participants still land stuck with the being of an idiot. The dogma rules of a ' faith system' are created by humans, and some of them destroy many more people than lukewarm indifference. If you are killed for righteousness' sake; refusing to externalize theenemy, you have a chance. If you underpin the self with scapegoating, La Machine Reap will read you as 'off-side', and of course, the wages of 'missing the mark', (sin), are total destruction, at best. If you routinely suggest that God can do anything; a system where evolutions failures do it to themselves is not a problem. The wordjudgment is problematic in lacking immediacy and implying conscious, sentient wagging of finger; as if Will himself come to grab you by the hand or by the throat. At best you get a current, respectable attempted exegesis of what The Machinery of Evolution does, will do, and is doing; with or without your interest or consent. Strangely enough, if man 'A' says to man 'B', " you are not conscious", and in reaction man 'B' is offended by this impudent suggestion; during the event of upset, man 'B' actually is irritated conscious. Clear as mud that. Such a hypothetical encounter could be viewed as involving two players, or include an invisible 'synergy third'. If interested, watch yourself. "In your (so called) normal and natural state, you are going nowhere.You don't have to be a murderous, hateful, fake god to be among the 'walking dead'; lukewarm indifference to Consciousness, will do it." Make no sense to pursue a cross-section of The Broader Present Moment if you don't ' believe' it is there and attainable. Déjà vu could be an accidental contact with ' thee wire' and if the experience phenomenon is real at all, it is entangled the extra-temporal. The Devil is arrogance, and if you let him in, you pay for it eventually. Current events are screaming that there is some 'thing' beginning to bleed out of humanity, its' collective situation, its' present moment, its' limited ephemeral life. A healthy body has an autoimmunity to combat infection and fevers rise and fevers break. If you harbour bogus assumption, harbour a victim mentality, call it ' holy' or not, you are an open wound and ' turning septic'. CHALLENGEAND THE COST OF DISMISSAL It would sound more than a little self-centered for Him to suggest that the entire limited material universe was designed and created to deliver challenging experience to a single

individual. Actually, there are two, and their Common Present Moment is 'uncreated' because both the past and the future are unlimited, meeting in the here and now, for them, you know, those two, forward and back; Intent and Other. Who's got your nose? Rumor has it that ' for Gods' pleasure were all things created' ; sure as shit would be handy to know exactly what God finds pleasurable. You know less about The Queen of the South (Her) than you do about The Magician Prince, and you don't know a whole lot about (Him). They are your birth and death, sensation observer and other, and all those other inconvenient extremes reconciled by your nose, your limited,potentiality, present moment. Omniscience, by definition, knows all about the dynamic medical affliction of masochism, but does not necessarily, periodically suffer such, endlessly oscillating in and out of The Limited. Omnipotence, by definition, could change the constant of change, but for some reason, perhaps laziness, does not. Who the hell are these characters and what do they want, or is 'want' what reconciles them and motivates their actions or inaction? Unsolicited sophistry is pain in the ass pollution, and some have no taste for cryptic crossword puzzles, but we are talking about survival in a hazardous universe that owes you neither explanation or life. Faced with a suggestion that 'the doing is the pay', being all or nothing sort of people, sort of makes sense. Perdition has neither endeavour nor compensation, and most of its' prey and carrion die of indolent certainty and medicating, fantasy finality. Essential potential born into celebrated pseudo-religious reason-contempt quickly atrophies into nihilist cynicism only seeking more hosts for the ravenous parasite. Endless uprighteous challenge is denounced as traitorous. If a 'terrestrial' parasite ends up homeless in destroying its' host, does this David vs Goliath event (downstream from intent) involve good and evil, a winner and loser ? If the yield from this entire solarundertaking is only two Monks, two Nuns, and a Dwarf (little one), would this be some great tragedy for the Will of Creation? There are tons of stars in the sky, Time is a sad joke, and if we suggest that The Limited Universe started, might as well say it started all over again. To all 'things' there is a season; The Static Unlimited Family Firm mostcertainly transcends the criteria of Thinghood; yet, may molt, flower, hibernate or take 'spring break'. Contradictory as all this may sound, point is, if you decide against paying the Taxes on perception in The Unlimited, you degenerate into exhaust, losing forever the chance to address challenge, enjoy success, or bear a setback well. If you could choose to be certain of something, it might make sense to pick being sure to beat the grave; but such a certainty would automatically involve the pains of birth and life. Wouldn't matter if you wise or not, good looking or not, nice or not. It would certainly give the opportunity for, perhaps inflict the duty to, take on a role as actor, pretending to be of the transitory limited. Cursing a blue streak, in itself is not an insurmountable infraction to pay for, but if an unconscious knee-jerk habit and unaddressed, the patient is just as terminal as the words. There is no law against trying to put yourself in the position of someone else, and The Magician Prince might complain " hell, I just wanted to meet one nice girl, and with the exception of that, nota highly motivated or ambitious sort; didn't ban myself from life on earth". But, within the context of what He suggests, regarding human evolution, the second half of his moaning is quite insupportable. Do you follow? The human ego in general will be crucified, and if you, (as a so-called individual), are going to get up and walk away, you're going be cyclically, aware of how the hell you got there, if only because omniscience is a non-negotiable component of Perception in The Unlimited. In the long run, to see, you have to see it all; to do, is to do all, and learning to walk the edge a sword can cut you in half, if you don't master falling off cleanly. If viewing the light from a distant star that has long ago burned out, you are ingesting visualinformation from the comparatively distant past. It is extremely rare for someone to endure having their transitory persona bleed to death and continue walking about, but having this bleeding begin to sweep all of humanity is the arrival of implicating Consciousness from the future, and for evolutions unrepentant failures, like being ' buried alive'. Those that are lukewarm indifferent to the cathartic transformation of acquired persona decommissioning, do not routinely introduce themselves as a waste of time and space, whose thoughts, feeling and opinions mean absolutely nothing; just as doomed as

their physical hide. Great merciful crap no! Some spend a life-time running from the implications of the ' Tax To Be', constantly struggling to 'medicate' and calm the self; buttress that which can't possibly last with comfort in like-minded company. The antithesis to Solitary Reality. There is no place that you can go to be pronounced sincere or otherwise, but, that said, if (all by your lonesome), you sort outthe basic Cannons of Reality; decide that you are prepared to pay the Taxes on Perception in The Unlimited, you just might evolve; if The Universe makes sense. Meritocracy has a tendency deem the have-not as deserving such. The technicalities of compassion must somehow involve selflessness. If (Him) and (Her) are reconciled by perception, to be, got to be (Love). The 'pivot', is the shift from chemical distillation, to ' fired' re distillation. Bigotries' accumulated liability sludge will burst into a bright orange flame. The consciencelessness of the thief and liar will burn as a blue flame. Violent fake gods and the investment protective are already going ' tire fire'. The lukewarm indifferent; degenerate into so much frightened, angry smoke.The ' false martyr' is a climax concentration of indolent arrogance and it is difficult to miss The Law of Mirror Reversal at work these days. A cowardly flight from bearing is hailed as noble bravery to be rewarded. Rigid, machine-like obedience to man-made contempt for re conciliatory reason declared the stuff of divinity and critical intellect declared infidelity. Have no illusions here; it is Thee Framework Broader Present Moment, and The Way there that is frightening the false martyrs into sentencingthemselves to an eternity at the spectrum's dead end. Take note of what makes evolutions' most spectacular failures. The lowest of evolutions' losers use the concept of god to build and support their fabricated illusion of persona validity; the inevitable fall is seen as an embodied external threat to the fantasy authority. There is a distinct difference between bracing for a storm, and doing something that will allow the wind to pass through you. Calling the externalization of the enemy righteous is to insist thatthe storm knows and likes you, but hates itself and that it, and its' Maker must apologize. The unnerving idea of being only but potential is counterpart to the arrogance of indolent certainty. In the crunch, to externalize the enemy is to denounce the Intent behind creation and to refuse the responsibilities of the seat of Will, to face the mirror and become your own enemy. It is easy to spot and label something as waste, but we really must be cautious assuming to have any idea how much Intent might spend in distilling a handful of survivors, or how long a failuremight be held at the dead end of the spectrum. If the theo fascist ultra-mega-dead were not blowing their brains out these days, you would not have this instructive indication of the pressures of living 'at depth'. ( no no, that's OK, you don't have to thank me ). Try to take responsibility, by learning to 'sit quietly in your room', because if everybody insists that God is on their side, everybody loses.

WANT Any multi headed Hydras', indolent, psycho puritan polluted, many noggins Quick to insist, a new head will grow, to plead for decapitation, ' swing away' Childish, cowardly threat to swamp Hell by volume; no, no, plenty of room Destine to while away eternity, greatly wishing had hopes' patience paid Remorse of conscience, can no more be intimidated than gravity can Opportunistic, self-medicating fantasy weighed, and found to be dense Not so much what said as the way it put, the arrogance of certainty Assumptions of validity and ability, will kill, pseudo-holy nonsense Like some bogus, fly-by-night, life insurance policy scam Your premiums all went on liquor and balloons, ya bought shit If satiated, not seeking, only tentatively alive, doomed to be shredded Even if having genuine Art, must be pursuing Being, to try and interpret Sliding radio station marker, betwixt band ribbons' two ends Blinkered present moment is transitory utility vision slit and born to die If possible to prove no hope, I'd quick avoid that next toothache No more living in an era where the dentist and blacksmith the same guy The Messiah got no shortage of technical names or titles Where ever the hell he is, my favourite, First Born of the Dead Just so damn bright and cheerful, uplifting, don't you think or feel? Everybody got be good at something, transmutation, gold starts as lead How prepared can any human possibly be, for all the implications Inmates guarded, scowling portraits of satanic psychopaths survey Face it, people in general are going to burn from the inside out Some are caught with the being of a violent fake god and it's time to pay The parasitic judgmental taint, there, in the corner of every eye To intentionally undermine the ephemeral daze, very rarely ever seen Unsolicited, unsought, unwelcome medicine will destroy the patient Genuine durability knows, not decides, such is having always been Dismount the tormented tiger, no surprise it is going to want to dine Pickled by perverse, patriarchal, preferential, particularity, quite dead What percentage of the dynamic undertaking do you flat-out despise? By extension hate for its' Maker and Perception, no matter what be said Many make it crystallized clear, they have no interest in the challenge Yet ferocious in defense of their doomed, transitory sensation of validity Only the mythical risen Phoenix can remotely suggest ' I have my pride' Ironic, scared into perdition by the concept of metaphoric death, and a pity Totalitarians and xenophobes live to spin history, a populations' force feeding Determined to float brand label and insist some have two ears, others three National or family honour is elevated to the rarefied strata of divinity Only an idiot would cross the street to defend a clan conspiracy to atrocity Not an impatient me, an intelligence in the fabric is allergic to my presence Cannon of Reality, cathartic transmutation, an impatient is the best you can be To survive the collapse of the undertaking, the Split-Shift is its' own pay La Machinery is not going to modify to accommodate your missing fee

Some pundits insist, 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' Being system survived, Being a walking family, one is Never really alone Inevitable to forget in the land of The Limited, land of percolating potential No yield to be reaped lest seed be tended, lest seed be sown Omniscience, by definition, must know a ton of real pointless crap Why bother remembering the names of those with no experience thirst? The willing are absorbed, the lukewarm and lunatic are naturally edited out They never were, Real Life is an acquired taste, not a single dynamic cursed Would do most anything for Her, short of surrender the ability to perceive Even if some noble bit of business, would not possibly remember any of it No such item as an offensive martyr, such is criminal withdrawal of potential A fire does not automatically continue to burn, just because it is lit It matters not which of your ears moves to reconcile, pressure will result If it is an absolute priority, a diamond you'll be, otherwise, volatile coal dust It is inevitable that one family member be more interested than another A realistic, measured self-interest can seem a solo, selfish, distasteful must A formula that is the product of mind, certainly have no mind of its' own The Machinery of Evolution just does what it do, incapable of like or dislike Terminal, exotic Ebola-flu pandemic, an asteroid the size of Iceland, hello! Not incomprehensible, nor a vulnerable, subterranean, collective, human psyche The focused attention of conscious labour is all you have to offer the universe Climate change is an opportunity to practice taking responsibility If needlessly pollute the waters in this life, definitely have to drink it in another Stoking divisional tensions, the cost of arms come out of your hide, every penny A cultural anthropologists' modern psychological international mapping Facing the 'metaphoric death' of The Machinery of Planetary Reaping, say, now Different flavours and intensities of preferential particularity, different hues Doomed nationalist, theocratic prisons grow darker, contempt is sacred cow Freedom and the right to indifference appear to offer economic opportunities Some pockets of pure death, vain, bling bling related, might suspect Ultimately, similar fate to the current victims of ' The Donner Party Effect' Hapless follow an idiot, land in hell, eating one and other, all claim be 'elect' Plotting locations and intensities of disappointment due to bogus, pseudo-faith Bogus notions of divine durability, martyrdom, holy war, death sentence edict All evolutionary suicide, like lukewarm indifferent giving the grave, 'the bird' Some need to back up a long way to escape endless remorse, no need predict Some that are physically afflicted, feel that their body has betrayed them If incarcerated by culture of power-mad clerics, just know it's all dead It is tempting to waste your precious energy throwing punches in the air Dying well is the best revenge, metaphoric of course, to escape being lead If a run-of-the-mill murderer, or just in any way sympathetic For every death you will suffer the pain of death seven times If you drag the concept of God into it, it is formulaic, seven times seventy No mercy, and the eternally screwed will continue to celebrate their crimes

If the dead rule the military, media, money and mould the mind of your children Maybe no choice but to go underground, maybe pray that they see the Light Essential potential atrophied and died, chose assumption over contemplation All false martyrs burn, cut your losses, can't live on the illusion of being right If you try to pay and carry the weight, to find legitimate Being of your own Thee Broader Present Moment can't crush the sincere, universe makes sense Badges?, what badges?, don't need no stinking badges Wall of a cup is border of The Unlimited, made to be breached, just a fence The thirst for freedom of thought is a dynamic of the undertaking Thus the opportunistic theo dead declare questioning contemplation, to be bad Actively foster evolutionary degeneration, bitterness is praised as 'holy' Must project the niggard mindset, friend or foe, peace is stuff of the mad Progression; something, somebody, someone, this is the Only Way out The wind goes where it goes, but only within the world of wind Sentience sends the stakes through the roof and leaves the robotic behind The biblical hurricane coming, it would be unnatural, not to have sinned Many have physically perished, just not knowing that lead is poison The theo tyrannical insist that all worship the bug kept up their butt Like or not, fuzzy rats' nose, fuzzy rats' ass, just another set of extremes The reality of incestuous damage, countered by the reality of the mutt If the concept of the Split-Shift is nonsense, confident Omniscience knows She got a monopoly on information and by default, is owner of The Truth The search for pearls in manure, this really had better have been worth it Thee Mysteries, understandably eclectic, and can safely afford not be aloof There is absolutely nothing that any of you can possibly do to one another That possibly compare with what The Machinery is going to do to all Instinctive fear tends to keep one from walking in front of a moving train If your head is screwed on straight, Hell need not fear, it is a survivable fall The moon falls about the earth, the earth about the sun, the sun about the Way Perplexing, perpetual, paradox, all in all, I would rather be in orbit Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy engages in challenging creative pursuit They live happily ever after and then die, rather participate, than just sit Itemize your reasons to be, family, friends, career, sport, self righteous bitching Had to look for reason to be, extra-terrestrial, create one from out of thin air It turned out to be perceptions' counterpart 'other', viewed under Law Can't complain about painful, dynamic Limited, did it all, so as to bear Dictatorships, theo fantasy or communist, always land dead from the neck up In any hierarchical construct, the higher you go, responsibility grow, greater risk Beyond the Galactic, fewer and fewer Laws, but really, really, really big In a hands on Universe, pointless to give orders, Milky Way is one of many disk Cannot possibly dismiss the catharsis, but can try to actualize potential The enemy is of your own household, in that you are tainted, and alone There are psychological technicalities involved in any polarized society It would have little to do with evolutionary consciousness, if you were a clone

Walking a road lined with hydro poles, sparks an ominous, painful memory Someone once walked a Roman road that was lined with populated crosses The Broader Present Moment, by definition, knows all about both of these era It is amazing that a hydro pole can express such timeless, universal, ego losses Engineering a bridge to cross to the practical purposes, on the other side Might as well consider trying to create an aesthetically pleasing practical link Hold on there bub, there is plenty time to walk around, the doing is the pay Easily be destroyed for a much lesser illusion, Hell is full of many indolent dink Motoring an endless, incessantly bifurcating, unuprighteous analogy freeway Natural tendency towards one branch over the other, result, you circumnavigate The awareness of counting must be mastered before any thought of choice Circular is the perdition drain; doing zip, your chance potential, you incriminate Once could walk, would climb in the bin and chew on lumps of yummy coal An early taste for carbon, enigmatic instinctive precursor sign perhaps An unfounded certainty saps the nutritional value out of evolutions' failures Leaving such to The Ultimate Consumer, generates what The Universe craps Food fight at the kiddies table, best cool it or The Mindless Machinery punish You are hurtling into the Generic Meat-grinder of Planetary Reaping If you want to sit with the adults you need to master a deep, attentive quiet No healthy respect for Machinery, you're a major idiot, gluttonous for weeping The madrossa is a Hell generating construct, for students and supporters both Let the cleaver drop, or share in paying for all the damages downstream Perpetual mechanical torture makes ' non-being' look more than a little good If you despise the Intent of The Undertaking, you're whack, just a crime scene You were warned and you listened not, a ' love of enemy ' appreciates Intent Someone not obligated regard any, will bleed the arrogance out of The Limited It is legitimate to suspect that ' someone' has done all this, done it all before The past, like the future, and Here and Now are, after all, of The Unlimited Observe those desperate to buttress stressed, transitory sensation of validity Denouncing the 'other', the dynamic undertaking and Its’ Maker, what a mess At best such will be destroyed forever, most likely worse, be forever pain pinned All answer to spectrum's dead end, is of your own making, is your express Can't possibly make the parallel reality too much clearer, the coins' flip side The primary positivity of Real Life is the exhilaration of cyclic recall Can't climb a mountain without slamming a few continents together Would not know contentment if it bit me on the face, love is described as fall Died on my feet, kept on walking, as good as nobody about me seemed notice In this business, is an uncreated talent, definitely the sign of a real serious pro Being a walking time bomb, many walking dead can't wait to see the back of ya Some advantages to being alone in hell, doomed attachments die, not grow Been through the rub a dub wringer, thank- diddali - ank - god goodness The evaporating heat has everything to do with what Grace, can let see How bizarre, the more rank persona encounter suffered, greater the opportunity It is difficult watching those go a piece at a time, taking no delight is key

Living in an era where perdition and hell are openly, ravenously, feeding Regarding finding timeless Being, if ya just don't care, ya just don't count Abstract reality erodes the foundations of fleeting fantasy from deep within The psychological implications of Block Center, the timelessly producing fount Metanoia means an accepted revolving door, not a static item on a mantel None, Working, are completely cured of the longing for a fixed finality The concept of Satan being booted out of Heaven, does makes sense Told to love within the Downstream Undertaking; 'no way', no sentimentality It is not so much the existential that is tainted, as the software running Nobody can morph, con volute and pervert perception quite like Him The fourth corner of the square aperture, never taught everything He knows There is cause, effect, and expense involved, in a tree growing a limb Supporting ones’ own repression rule, is sometimes called Stockholm bonding Off-loading beings' autonomous responsibilities can be subtlety attractive In the long-run, leaving responsibility to another, no, it's just not on None trying to tell you what to do, think, like, no reward just being reactive Let's conduct internet pole, first regarding the ultra-mega-dead, theo fascist Do you want to rot with the 'clerics' at the spectrum's rotten dead end? Given the right to Study by sane secular law, could be called theo political All else is just repression control, antithesis to Life, ascension is no friend My dad, for some reason, used to say, "very clever these Chinese" Do you want to share in paying for Tienanmen and Tibet, or is it gonna be no? The universal law of mirror reversal is sending all communists to the gulag No immortality in perpetuating the repression, no surprise, all reap what sow North Americans, you are going to a place where there is only bling bling to eat You got an idiot ' snowball in Vegas' chance, the way things presently are Some are actually convinced that the bigger and smellier footprint, the better Even if it could be afforded, the sane might think twice before buying a car And you there, the famous Magician Prince, halt please, your hands up! You're no prize, you just cope with the cage match containment, just durable Surviving the inevitable collapse of The Limited, everyone got to pay for such If that is all there is, there is certainly nothing that is remotely comparable Sometimes, turf will begin to growing in a mat of its' own discard clippings Separate from the nourishing topsoil altogether, will in the mat wither and die Suggestion of salvation in obedience to concoction, taken on a life of its' own Religion, bogus or not is preparatory catalyst, worst of homemade is biggest lie The lukewarm indifferent don't like hearing that they are a boil-in-bag entree Going from the top of the food chain to below bottom, indigestible to Life Those assuming divine durability are exactly as adverse to the challenge Those desperate to feel a player embrace the senseless, despise Thee Wife Eventually, got to place your bet, buy a ticket and put your money down If you bet it all and lose, you lose it all, plus punitive damages added The damages are compounded by the number that you convince to follow hate Reason has a limit, live in the past, die in the past with nothing ever padded

Physical parents gave as good as no ' religious instruction', thank God Got a bible when seven years old, have not read it all, just ' winging it' Not afraid to think, weigh the empiric, take a shot at writing something new If one of you were 'system survived', such a one would be a ' walking writ' An Arch-Tetradic could nine-iron this planet clean out of the Milky Way And such of the four are timelessly downstream devolved from The Family Firm Your sensation of left and right is the signature of the latest act of ' Intent' If determined to try, outside chance you actualize essential potential germ In a world where can buy anything, some ca not be allowed to handle money A danger to themselves and others, responsible authorities are obliged to act The closer the theo political get to their hell, the more livid they will grow Those of conscience are vulnerable to those with none, Janjaweed attack Thee Ship of State, Thee Ark, leaves transitory divisions in its' towering wake The greater the recalcitrant attachment, the further the final apocalyptic fall If thine eye be single, the Light of Life there in be, yuk, too sugar sweet The Universe makes sense, always has and always will and this is ' last call' There are two kinds of people, those that think there are two kinds of people And those that are quasi-sane, those that have a hope, those that do not Can not dumb down The Mysteries any further and still be saying anything If you miss the Arks' sailing, remember Lots' wife, turn to street, beyond rot Dead is dead, real life is work, there is no hell ' lite', only the real endless There is no slick and shiny evil, no justifiable crime, just maybe, survive pay No ' holy' contempt, no revolutionary butt-bug, no in-corrupt caliphate Just you in the cosmological chain, and could drop dead, any place, any day A nun in her convent, a monk in his monastery, really is a yes or no situation Either can attain something, or really should be out drinkin an whorein A rational, technical explanation of what is possible leap-frogs a quantum leap What can last, what can't, can be seen, weighed, by a legit one observin Happy is he that has a viable aperture of perception, happy is he that has none But petulance and penury unto any moving from potential toward either When The Mysteries close, the only place do this work, is wherever you are Possible to build a trigger, muster awareness, psychological equivalent of lever All masks are purged, ' you can pay me now, or you can pay me later ' Essential potential, indolent indifference, capital crime, ' use it or lose it ' Conscious labour, ' people don't appreciate what they don't pay for' Current events, ' not some malevolent outsider that turned your world to shit' Only takes one showing up in history twice to change the definition of reality Nothing empiric, horsemen of the apocalypse, always lurking somewhere about Planetary reaping is a psychological matter, edification means to build up To suggest the outcome beyond a doubt, is to throw in the towel, assure a rout Can spend a life-time trying to do what is expected by those around you If taught to whine victim, but turn to live, teachers are bound to scream foul If the world is inferior and owing you an apology, such is your view of God It is difficult sacrificing ones' traditional, cultural, inherent, self-righteous scowl

Long been warned of the danger of new wine in those brittle old skins Chance that they burst, tinkering with a condemned building is less than wise Some machines that wanting repairs, wanting completely new main bearings Baking leavened bread is a conscious act, basics, lubricant, atmosphere, rise Behold the prickly porcupine, chewing upon my precious plywood store Cares not about the price of building materials, likes the taste of the glue Catastrophic damage, yet quite beyond reproach, no limited humans involved Potential is betwixt extremes, can't do anything, lest decide to decide what do For some, if there is not something wrong, there is definitely something wrong The absence of something to screech about, is itself good reason to screech Being thin-skinned is no crime if you keep it to yourself, turn pin-prick to nail A tree booked for falling stores energy, really had best reconnoiter its' reach It is strange taking rest in an endless, a volitional, escape from boredom Perpetual cyclic competency exam, the aroma-therapy of bearing walking dead What really bogarts their fat-boy, they know, somewhere down in the marrow Nobody wants to bounce and burn, face the spectrum end, a future blood red Could not change the Common Denominators and Machinery if wanted to Would not if could, the systematic dynamic distillation does its' appointed work Friction-loaded cacophony grind, verses the sterile senility of the static The great unwashed are betwixt birth and death, is not some abstract quirk Meeting like ships in the night, always painful, always only one know why One breathes on, suffers deprivation, suffers the dark, but lives to figure it out "It has always been this way, and will always be this way" Can't claim to see it all, lest seeing tragic loss, remorse, contrition and doubt If you set out to do something, whether successful in your attempt or not To one degree or another, you take seriously the sensation of having will The sensation is as transitory doomed as your labels and physical hide are It is possible to see those in a comma, measure the fall, hear, meter the shrill The non-negotiable inevitable, hell, someone be writing these current events Arrested, right there behind your eyes, dried, bled, strangled, pick an analogy Find you asleep, head pillowed on a railway track and give you a swift kick First, going to jump up and thank me, next, mourn is no cotton-candy finality Anxious to celebrate glorious gilded past, mourn its' loss, blame any but self Protect precious particularity, like mother gorilla trying to nurse baby, days dead Self inflicted isolation, squalor and ignorance blamed on evil outside world Reared as thirsty vampires, cannon fodder, perverted revelation, poison lead Inherent, inbred, ingrained, must look without and denounce an external enemy Anywhere and everywhere, but where He actually live, where He actually be Man-made clap-trap, for purposes of long ago conceived power-mad politics Dress it up in piety all that you dare, suffering your error, eternally you will see When the distillation subsides, if the yield is but a handful, it is what it is No matter what, will start again, one thing sure that's pure smoke, it is time Suggest that Will be with opinion or not, you got to be Alive, to be a player Bogus assumption is a ravenous killer, fall like avalanche rock, or live to climb

All of the satanic-suicide may peak and then begin to subside, even to stop It may accelerate until the entire culture is in hell, or sobering in rehab The big shift came when humility was lumped with reason, Canonized as evil Difficult to see what is bull-shit when it is underpinning, born in rickety prefab Multiculturalism within quasi-sane, realistic, transparent, temporal, secular law Not a bad place to try and Work, no book that felt wanted, that cannot get Trying to help those ruled by the dead, is not a hopeless black hole task Truth is subversive, misery demands company, takes the mind off growing debt Largely pointless to try and measure the tragedy of egocentric, theo politics No interest in seeking consciousness, indolent assumption that already there Antithesis to impatient, volitional, cathartic, actualization of transmutation Been offered Life having two ears, one nose, have chosen to not try to bear You do not bargain, argue or negotiate with the Machinery of Planetary Reaping You can ' litigate', in that, bearing is a matter of realistic Evolutionary Law Law that you do not automatically know, and certainly do not create, oh no Such is an Unlimited Past, don't know who made such Law, thorn in every paw It is possible to change the past by just letting all the spun nonsense drown Grand-papa is never going to get out Hell if you perpetuate the satanic fantasy Enemy be of your own household, honouring parents, need not follow to Hell Once deciding God will reward murder, lying to yourself and sundry is easy Common sight, those convinced that ' life' be found defending bogus assumption Animation principle behind the argument is thee parasite, and what must die If denied independent thought, you're already in Hell, just don't fully feel it, yet Denounced as infidelity by those with the most to gain by perpetuating the lie

Medicating concocted legitimacy, walking dead will cling to sedative of tradition Calling what is nonsense holy, what is holy, evil, what is evil, life Cover-up of little green men, masses must not feel as generic earthlings Little green men would have left and right, concepts of child, husband, wife There is, of course, what you see to be as yourself, surely some invention There is the mask you would like or assume that others see of you There is the electroplated persona others actually ingest in your presence And what The Dynamic Undertaking found, now that It has begun to chew From evolutions point of view, what do you want, and how badly is it wanted? Transitory 'will', at best is pursuit, another larger Will awaits in the wings Could suffer a multiple of sojourn, fail to master sitting still, fail to actualize If you entertain bogus assumption, maybe no end to the arrows and slings Convenient crony, he enemy of your enemy must be considered a friend? Thee Enemy, has you condemn without, rather than prudently probe within The Limited sifts and sorts, painful practicalities and staged challenge of duty Hold your breath waiting for an apology in the mail, lunar dead-letter bin Apocalyptic tragedy, measurable degree of devastating, reversal, disappointment The entire modern concept of martyrdom is purest satanic nonsense Invention, are you prepared to surrender all chance in sympathy for this? Metanoia means turning to face cultural concoction is doomed, or repentance

Let us discuss the end of the occupation, of Constantinople that is How about Texas, the Arctic, the Moon, mainland China, let alone Tibet Is there some point in linear time when all such touchy matters are settled? Bogus religion dismisses Reason, like some inferior, less than perfect sunset In Thee Abstract, where there are just the two left, what's common is big news Neither are especially stoic when in pain, but essentially drop dead durable yet Potential can only attain presence if facing that it is not owed, and is no prize A slow squandering of ones’ inheritance more painful than losing it all in one bet Anything purely transitory devolves into old bones, and worthless filthy rags Throwing your weight around may be animal instinctive, satanic, rarely conscious Successful evolution involves complete technical redefinition of subject and object Wisdom, Will, and Perception view it all from inside and out, sometimes nauseous The last frontier is the grave, the inner realm, no, not oceans, not outer space Suggesting salvation in suicidal sacrifice to some limited label, pure satanic crap Dead end, sacrificing ones’ own, chip on shoulder suffering is the most difficult Man-made, theo political, red herring, self-medicating butt-bug, tempting trap The hostile indifferent fear the humiliation ahead, let alone eternal recall of it all Feel the sunlight upon your face, enjoy the light-footed step of youth But be warned, all face a sentence, Being in Unlimited more difficult than not May you live in interesting times, how about a cranky Devil on the loose? Yes oh yes, it's an endless, periodically painful, dynamic challenge No no mother, it's contrition, not depression Yes oh yes, butt-numb-boredom is endlessly worse than not being No no, it's inversion, not conversion Perverse theo politics is imploding, grinding its' road kill for demon-dogs This sectarian savagery where everybody loses, Hell has got to eat too The dead end of the spectrum is much closer and easier than Real Life The antithesis to an impatient, contemplative life, indolent fantasy turns to pooh It is very painful to give up on those that choose not try to evolve into life The Machinery helps those that accept the offer, and try to help themselves Some cling to comforting fantasy sensation of validity, like childs' comfy blanky Prim, proper, well fed, only know of poverty of spirit from commercial novels Entire nations are ruled by the dead, whether or not psychiatry call them sane Contempt for the staged production turning them to an endlessly burning wick Shoveling their children into the dead end furnace, insisting that god will reward Spinning reality to the bitter end, by the light of the toxic flame flick Even if deciding to try evolve, still must suffer every death of sentence owed Horror to the power of horror, the wages of tampering with The Word Conditioned to worship and defend the fantasy validity, and damn proud of it As is, destine to while away eternity wishing, of God, they had never heard Some bleak Monk once insisted, suffering and service is all that there is Grudgingly, better way to feel alive than in hate, murder and torturous mayhem Who said suffering is the result of desire, and desire is all that life be? Therapy in dumbing down The Mysteries, just to go and re complicate em

Indifferent dead, stroke the self searching for reason to deride those of hope Theo dead demand defense of invention, what has none is called authority Desperate to buttress a foundation of sand, anything but turn to face the music Adversaries are more than convenient, lend validity, insist it be a noble polarity Hopeless sounds derogatory, without hope will kill, certainty leave pinned The theo corrupt self-serving manipulation of the concept of faith, belief Any of critical intellect labeled an unbeliever, know not whether laugh or cry Intimidation, imprisonment, torture, murder, just sympathetic, never to see relief If thinking the walking dead despise the dynamic creation now, all has just begun Wait until they have one foot in Hell and realize the scope of their criminal error Violence of reaping is robot sour grapes squared, downstream from the Sentient War in heaven is hell, hell of revelation is of heaven, wonder what is terror The separation of state and church, is somehow, somewhat, someway different From the separation of church and state, both are best out of your hair The theo fascist ultra-mega-dead are a toxic fungus, that need be managed Don't suggest speaking for life, worst dead caught with such bait, fair is fair Some marvel in cognizance of the fragility of transitory corporal existence Some spend a life-time denying vulnerable weakness, insist poverty of spirit The worst declare humble doubt treasonous, insist arrogant certainty be exalted Obviously contemptuous of humility and rather tear their hair out than see it How to express such a damning reversal of fortune for patriarchal failures? Behold, a Woman clothed with the Sun, and the Moon beneath Her feet Machismo is masochist, such be mercilessly ground beneath Her sensible heel Really should not have messed with The Family, really only one Throne seat Lukewarm go down the drain, the theo dead maybe stick forever in its' throat Drinking the endless toxicity of their perverse, negative theo invective Get out, get away, and do not look back, or die like a dog in the street The nails of 'posting' the planet are shaving nicks, limited but reflective These are the cold technicalities, the pointy end of the stick, no hyperbole The dynamic undertaking sifts and sorts, despise its' intentions, it sorts you out Nobody is going to like it in Hell, someone can and does guarantee this Possible to have no organized religion, but to Her, be thee most devout Little funny or sad, those confidently pontificating on the ' end of days' The Broader Present Moment becoming local is infinitely more serious business Was more serious business before the planet born, is now and will always be Planets die every second somewhere, with or without any around to witness As if the transitory blip of any humans' ephemeral little sojourn, and its' ken Was automatically of some gloriously legitimate and of negotiable weight Stuff-a-nonsense, face your hazardous place in the cosmological scheme Perception Unlimited is not bound obliged to fool with time, day, or any date If you just don't care, you just don't count, yes, in the Here and Now Assume owed indestructible cohesion of identity, you never were, no chance View particularity as anything but a massive liability, you are already gone Sympathetic to theo violence, Devils' pitch-fork will force you join fire dance

Some insist a woman can't be a little bit pregnant, she just is or is not Being dead or not would appear to carry such final, absolutist connotations Blindness could be an exception, certainly, the blind sometime lead the blind Your chances and adversaries are all within, Life has rewards and implications Certainty drags faith, hope, belief out back, seditious kittens in a sack Drowns them all and calls itself faith and sets out to murder the disobedient Labels them as the unbelievers, worthy of withering condescending contempt None more desperate to feel alive than snowed potential, the most defiant Some will turn, will snap, except the taxation pay of challenge bought Got to hit rock bottom to find solid foot-hold, a base for the ladder climb Could struggle a life-time and fail to shake what laid down in plasticity youth If relentlessly told that up is down you need to divide your attention and time Even if unceremoniously sacrifice self-medicating, pseudo-holy hate of reason You still have to pay for being a nuisance, with and for, blood and treasure Even if you sacrifice the self-sanctifying invention, preferential particularity You are going to understand the concept of penitence, its' weight, its' measure Even if you sacrifice the convenient calming control concoction, divine durability Still must pay for every one you've enticed, coerced or cajoled into the pit Progression, denial, anger, bargaining, remorse, accepting turn to hope All cultures are part crap, all ancestors less than perfect, some, full-a-shit Some are born and raised in a theo fantasy theme park conditioned to death Constantly force-fed that the rest of the world is theo political as well Just inferior, but having similar mandate to swamp and rule and rape Subjectively tinted spectacles can and will shatter, the walls of Jericho fell External boggy-man employed as manipulative instrument of diversion Damn, the devil is good at being a parasitic butt-bug, a real bloody pro What does the embodiment of essential potential have in counter-offer? Unlimited work as its' own pay, no wonder so few choose to fight the flow The Ultimate Consumer suffers a bizarre, unique gastric intestinal affliction Can only absorb the most highly refined of essence distillates, pity is that All the pain, all the failures, next expansion breath have to enlarge the limited Maybe sell Gabriel a franchise, we will see, don't want to get fat Gospel is entomological derivative of 'good', as in 'good news' What's so damn good about it? one situation demand and deserve explanation Suppose it depends on what you want, and how badly you want it Want requires comprehending want, 'outer darkness', just no contemplation When common denominators of Real Life are accepted and purge survived But still walking about, much is different, but much remains the same The purely transitory and utility, the taint, is obvious, and people have horns Some horns toxic big, some medium, few are small, no joke this, no game The recalcitrant cling to temporal willfulness and ephemeral sense of validity The tragic label losses of nation, race, clan, crony, sect, social class Bad enough suffering being turned into nothing over such fleeting fluff as this Best hope it's rare to be pinned at spectrum's dead end, the Universes' ass

Let's hypothesis inter-galactic little green men alight, in your back yard You accept their offer to visit their Galactic Sun, you know, just for fun On route they demonstrate technological prowess banishing material want But, what grows dies to be born, boredom is pain, you're back under the gun Mornings' waking, yesterdays' evil must have been good, no nocturnal coronary Today's evil is proof of being a player, certainly serves to make feel alive Narrow present moment is handier than convex handles on a bowling ball Guaranteed, that The Broader Present Moment flash-fry results when it arrive Current events are exhibiting a timely concentrated manifestation of it The opportunistic Five Star Felony of taking the name of GOD in vain To justify loathing the dynamic undertaking, and by extension, it's Maker Some paradox, target for targets' sake, ' holy bane', in targets' name If showing up in ancient history equipped, rule the planet with a Bic lighter For all you know, the blue-green scum be plowed under, to start again Who ever responsible, decapitated totalitarian state, the pieces tend go at it Pieces have minds, some minds are dead, end of pieces, due to involve pain Not the day the earth stood still, day turned inside out, clatu, barata, nicktoe We built the robot, and we accept it hanging over our heads, axiom ax If dynamics were half as harsh, yield be double, but purity still an absolute Facing impotence of poverty is no fun, metaphorically nowhere to run, Life is tax An all or nothing stance counts only in Thee Bearing Stillness Quiet An upright pendulum at rest, moves relentlessly through your sensation of time The Family Firm, that singularly, so nosy bunch, has heard all about all of this Hear it in the fabric, the vibe, the rhythm, pitch, scale, tone, harmony and rhyme If personal experience is universal, got strange and troubling bad news To escape being dead, got to endure the dead, or 'experienced' actors Always see others' problems clearer than your own, same rule applies to them Only under volitional contract, all else is bull-shit, who are your detractors? The last rounds of the staged psycho-cage-match are absolutely brutal Measured indifference feels cold, but you need to be Alive to conceive of Love If endure the agony of turning to face the music, then begins the marathon Takes 'parts' to examine pure Intent, let alone accept such as uncreated dove You don't have to like or dislike the walking-dead, to wisely bear them well You can't change what the Meat-grinder of Evolution does to any and all Like physics, you can work within the Laws, but call them ' buddy', oh no The husbandman gives your potential and Abstract Art, but, if you fail, you fall The concept and reality of the 'walking-dead' is fraught with serious hazard Think about it, condemning without can condemn the observers themselves Your two ears, reconciled by your potentiality, by your occasionally runny, nose Omniscience has heard of hell for sport, pearls, manure, and no gloves It is painful to watch the run-of-the-mill hopeless, some, in all their finery Nurturing a reason for upset, so as to feel alive, feel a player, the willful dead See me bitch, sign of life and owed an apology, must be alive so as to collect Irrelevant senseless, made invalid fearing being invalid, self-contained in head

Ostrich and supra-petulance, denial to the level of a bizarre mass psychosis You there, your head in the dirt, ' get away or I will blow my brains out' Holy Blazing Saddles Batman, these people are so very, very dumb No escape burning from the inside out, and going to wish not outlawed doubt Icons or no icons, just a rule invented by humans, not God that offended Left holding the bag, full of radio-active treasure, sickening invisible rays Need not open your mouth to display that tape-worm friend of yours Some insist they speak for all, they mean you, best pray that not all pays Two reasons a guy might fall to his knees, thanking God created a man One, berserk, suicidal notion of superiority, the zenith of doomed weenie-hood Other, strange pleasure of being wrapped about a tiny daughters' little finger In The Family Firm, not paradox, flat out contradiction, concept of fatherhood Traced it All back towards the beginning, and found that there is none A stereoscopic Narcissist peers into a square reflecting pool Nobody here to obey, debate or to tell what to do Would wanting any such make one a tyrant ego, or smarmy vassal fool? One of us needs to play the bad guy, to make dynamic, I vote for me You really do hate static impotence, you really are a glutton for bad press You Judas you, you could just pretend being content, you could just stay Viewed from a point removed or not, it has always been and will be The Express If nowhere to go, no need of path, no gravel, just one big static rock If ever meet God, gonna complain, that God is just one big complaint Can only get there bearing precognition of why the working left to begin with Do not tell anyone, found a passport, visa full, think it belongs to some Saint Wisdom don't 'want' to know, just do Will don't 'want' to do, just does Light don't 'want' to be, just is Humanity and its' potential to know anything about anything, is someones' need, as distinctly different from want, for a coffee buzz FEAR Those that display indifference to a possible evolution, and those that assume they are automatically guaranteed the divine durability of an indestructible cohesion of identity, are all part of a single doomed orb turning on a single axis, and that axis is fear. Dismissing cognizance of both pain and pleasure, is a technical psychological hostility to the limited dynamic undertaking and the challenging Broader Present Moment of its' Maker. The human mechanism gives people a remarkable ability to, and tendency to, speak from out both sides of their mouth. It is not mysterious that average folk are loath to hear of, or face, the inevitable sensation of impotent ' humilis', incumbent in the fact that finding life and being alive involves expense. The bitter fear of persona decommissioning, and its' recall, flows from out one side of the mouth, while a frenzied determination to buttress the ephemeral sensation of anyvalidity pours from out the other. There are observable ratios evident in these twin symbiotic leaks. Evolutions more spectacular failures do not care if they or any other meet a violent and premature physical death because they have been environmentally conditioned to call an arrogant certainty, a faithful belief. The severely patriarchal male is scared to death of the

feminine; desperate to feel superior authority over a fellow biped and determined to deny the reconciling aspect of the consciousness of any having two parents. Grand 'intent' can not externalize the enemy, viewed as feminine or not. Those incapable of reading and writing might re actively, feel intimidated by those that can, but the handicap may or may not be their fault. Either way the subjective turmoil is temporal and fear, fears being caught. Those inventing a self-serving faith system, or any communist manifesto, codify an external enemy, promise reward for fear, and mold bait for obedience, promising glory for defending theconcoction to the death. If collective memory of a colonial past begins to fade, opportunism will resurrect it, and a single individual will ruin all the lives, of all citizens, of an entire nation just to feel they are a legitimate player somewhere; hell, anywhere. Some that are too frightened to leap from a tall building will commit 'suicide by police' as if to die in a confrontation would give their birth and death some meaning. When entire nations or cultures are ruled by the illegitimate, they willprepare a Jim Jones style poison cool-aid cocktail rather than begin to explain to their children just how completely that they have blown it. Inventing what god wants and does and likes and rewards; once starting to put words in the mouth of their anthropomorphism buddy, difficult to stop. Quasi-sane secular governance can be obvious in attempts to use a politically managed fear, and push a pioneer style self-defense or meritocracy beyond reason in the name of enterprise. Fragile essentialpotential dies and then rots when confronted with a constant conditioning atmosphere of celebrated psycho bling. Willful dickishness and judgmental negative polarization can infect any society, and will kill as dead as the ' hard stuff '; primitive, bogus, hate-filled, pseudo-religion. Growing in a mat of its' own clippings; the monotheistic is confused with the pantheistic, fear my god, fear me. Fear of Light,(fatal to autonomy) in the disengaged potential has taken on a life all of its' own, like an urban myth that sounds vaguely plausible. Fearing the atrophy of potential, is a hollow feeling in the recalcitrant disinterested and can be as volatile and obvious as in those pickled by preferential particularity and an ingrained contempt for the responsibilities of Intent. Those that conquer their initial fear of attempted introspection might wisely choose commence this in an uncritical manner, considering, the persona is product of intent; the observers' seat is sentient critic, and the Devils' mandate to defend His turf. In the long run, the 'animation' of the doomed percentage of the mask construct is not ' frightened' of The Light but is just playing His role in the dynamic distillation process of the limited undertaking. If aprisoner of dead, literally ruled by theo justified particularity, manipulatively intimidated, forced to 'close your mind and tow the line'; just know that those around you are a ' white noise', of ephemeral reality and zero validity. Bastardized, they are of reality only in how you the target might profitably exploit the situation by bearing well. Like a drivers license, genuine durability is a privilege, not a right; but such a ' permit' must be made, all alone, one consciously aware moment at a time. It is a dusty, hazardous universe and you are a piece of fly-paper, twisting in the wind. Because the universe does make sense, the only thing that 'solvent' won't wipe away is the patients' initials, should, he or she turn to commence placing them there, and of volition, work, endlessly generating compensation . A subsection of that grand timeless quagmire; the fact that the boredom of omniscience is a ' pain in the wrist' for absolutely all. If determined to be pissed about something, how about the fact that humanity is an afterthought. Wisdom and Will suffer in cycle and have always been Perceptions' parents. You've got to pay to get on, you've got to pay to be on, The Express, and you can be scared to death, but not into birth and life. If indifferent, read no further, you're gone. It is possible to see the role that fear plays in the indolent childish fantasy of assuming divine durability or in claiming an inside track monopoly on The Truth. What is truth? Genuine durability counts, and is infinitely more difficult to carry than not being at all; not being at all carries the peace of no perception of memory, or memory of perception at all; unlimited peace. Those alive long run, work for a living, and the doing is the pay, in any here and now. Some suggest that god is a myth created by people, so as to help cope with the yawning void beyond the grave, but always fail to explain why the hell we are hearing about it. Hell, as if some sort of place, may be a myth created by people to take their mind off that cancerous mole behind their left ear.

Evolutions' successes do not leave hell in the dust. They, of volition, face the fact that an expanded present moment can absorb all the extremes represented by their two ears, including that terminal designer disease. In ascension the narrow present moment expands to face past crimes and future responsibilities. Nasty conduct leaves a liability residue that must be extorted out, and the future, if you buy it, requires doing it all. Natural instinctive fear is a utility dynamic of the limited material undertaking, and counterpart to that naturally exploding volcano. The concocted fear employed by the opportunistic authoritarian (the enemy is without) and the ostrich fear of the solo indifferent (denial) has always been an undertakings' intentional taint. Average adults in the quasi-sane part of the planet are largely free of the worst satanic propaganda, and allowed a chance to throttle down the effects of all the different flavours of peer pressure. In the dead world, the captive inmates are hammered to the bitter end by those insisting that the salvation of all lies in obedient group psychosis. Whether it be mundane transitory affairs or a pilgrims' progress, it takes courage to strike out on your own, and it is guaranteed that some of those encountered are 'sent' to impede you. There are two streaks of pure tragedy that run through the limited material undertaking. The walking dead do not and cannot know that they are ' now' gone. If they ' turn', if they 'snap', it involves Thee unlimited past and future, rather than a point in linear time. If incarcerated by an entrenched 'cultural cynicism', turning to face that the enemy is a transmitted, satanic, psychological syphilis is bound to be denounced as treasonous. It is not contradictory to suggest that the universe makes sense, and face that it does not owe you life, no matter how old the tradition of shoveling your children into the furnace of the false martyr. The Living, including those killed for righteousness' sake, go through Hell for sport, but choose not be there all the time. If you dance about on the edge of a cliff and fall, gravity is going to scuff you up, but gravity, or any other part of physics do not like or dislike anybody. The Machinery of Planetary Reaping is ' higher physics', but it still just do what it do, oblivious to vengeance. The Machinery can be said to help those that help themselves, in that, there has never been a time it require of any, that which cannot be done. Hope accepts that ' intent' views all extremes from a point removed, and sends those temporal enemies, to help them recall the timeless One. Certainty, indolent and frightened, pegs ' intent' as a mistaken idiot, and itself as the remedial authority. Human history, is the history of a tortured attempt to claim a personally favourable definition of validity, usually in comparison with some morally inferior and culturally corrupt external enemy. Anybody can attempt a rudimentary psychological postmortem on current stressed validity violence in the human situation. If crafting a ' faith system' to serve base mundane purposes, there is a strategic tendency to include a bogus commandment to defend the self-perpetuating invention to the bitter end. Some will murder their children for thinking, explicitly, to protect their own obedient investments in a self-validating, pseudo-religious mafia, as if successful evolution required perpetuating a somnambulism. You are moving in a hurtling conveyance, an anchor chain padlocked about your throat. Either you toss the anchor out the window, or The Machinery reach in and grab it, but you are coming to a halt, and it is guaranteed that some bits are going to fly off. No sections of the Broader Present Moment, will be redacted so as to anesthetize you; not in process and not in Life in the long run, if you buy it. Suggesting a life decision occupying a point in linear time is a tempting self-inflicted defeat. Being aware that you are between yourphysical birth and death is not a natural axiom of the human odyssey, but is the non-negotiable first step towards dealing with being born, living and dying an infinite number of times a second. Let us say the word 'existence' carries the connotation of the transitory limited and the word ' being', the connotation of the unlimited. Some human potential will sink clinging to a fantasy of concrete predetermination. The past is exhaust from a perpetual perishing. Anybody can ponder the concept of a successful evolution, first by facing what is mortal, (assumption of validity and the corporeal body) and the fact that 'existence' is a timelessly absorbed subsection of Being. Within examined existence; the bookends, the vice jaws of birth and death can become a part of your narrow blinkered present moment if you work towards awareness of such, from within. Being, in The Unlimited views birth and death, and any other set of extremes from a boring point removed, making them all one homogeneous lump. The twin concepts of The Split Shift, and metaphoric (death to limited) to

be (born to unlimited) offers; vice jaws open, vice jaws close, broader ken, take it or leave it. This rambling, unruly blurb is subtitled ' a critical examination of current events', and as one perky pundit has recently noted, '' talk of God seems to have come roaring back''. Call ' it' what you like; 'a single intelligent source to all', It is real Just, and by way of the mindless Machinery of Planetary Reaping, like nature, She, gets both angry and even. Obviously, the blinkered present moment of an earth-like planet is nestled precariously within The Limitless. Ya got nukes but you're still here in the asteroid shooting gallery. This wee undertaking could last another million years or go at noon tomorrow; way, way down my list of concerns. When a human or planet breaths its' last, it has moved to ingestion by inevitability, or, inevitability has come from out of the future to get it, or, it is just an inevitable appointed meeting. Point is, in the crunch purging x-rays' are selective. Take for example your doomed, purely transitory sensation of will. Inevitability can come from 'wherever' and arrest it, unceremoniously skin it alive, bleed it dead, right there behind your eyes. Happens to me all the time. If you're interested, think of all the different flavours of vulnerable, doomed, unbecoming sludge that comprise your electroplated liability mask and blinkered fantasy validity. It will all be unceremoniously shredded, sorted and forever incinerated. What the hell did you think Judgment was, if you thought of it at all? You don't care, you don't count. Suggest you're owed life, its' been a real slice knowing ya. View any label as anything but a massive liability, you are road kill. If the goal were obedient robots, it would be a much simpler universe. There is a popular science fiction theme where computers reach sentience and take malevolent charge. An obvious, yet somehow veiled certainty has staged a pogrom on the concepts of faith, hope and belief, claiming autonomous validity and insisting, it be winner-take-all. It really is not a matter of a victor, but cage match survival. Certainty is arrogance's overcoat, and He loves to plead ' holy'. There's nobody ' in your corner', but there's something in your pocket. The universe does not owe you life and odds are against your actualization, but it has always made sense and you are not being asked to do what cannot be done. Always has made sense and always will, and does make sense in the here and now. NOT COMPLAININGJUST THE FACTS In the standard language of modern temporal medicine, an affliction is described as 'chronic' if the patient suffers it long or until their last breath, and the problem is called 'terminal' if it is what finally kills them. In the trying, torturous, hazardous, guaranteed imprecise language of The Machinery of Planetary Reaping these words can be usefully employed if used in reverse order. From the point of view of a possible evolution into Real Life Unlimited, a certain percentage of those hurtling toward the grave, those walking about, are 'essentially dead'. Hostile to the periodically painfuland shame-sure challenging aspects of Being Unlimited, insisting the duty to dismiss hope as superstition, deciding that they are owed divine durability, claiming an inspired monopoly on the truth, or deciding they are the only true believers and all others are doomed inferiors. Terminal first, chronic defensive next; but, the situation can change. Approaching their sentence of being unceremoniously flushed down the drain, the pointlessly argumentative, the generously sharing opinionated, the willful 'control freak', and every flavour of theo fascist crack-pottery; they all just get worse. Throwing good money after bad, desperate to feel a player; digging deeper their graves whilst being buried alive, covered by their own shovel. Whether you like it or not, believe it or not, see it or not, care or not, there is a living Broader Present Moment of Perception in the Unlimited; a level of abstraction where there Be only Three, and the sensation of subject and object, the observer and counterpart other, is more than a little different. Depending on what you may be trying to think about, in the newly minted language of this (ever so noble) attempted exegesis, Thee Prime Triad may show up as Wisdom, Will, Perception or Him, Her, Window or Queen, King, Ace.Hopefully there is no risk of a lightning strike and getting zapped by His Nibs, The Patriarch Total Power for commandeering the Bullet position for The Re Conciliatory Embodiment of

Perception because, in the long run, genuine durability counts in the long run and the Unlimited by definition has no parts. All three of these characters deal with all of the implications of all three of the seats at the table, and at least one of them must hypothetically choose to not complain about anything because of course, He did it all. The embodiment of re conciliatory Consciousness claims His energies as His, and can choose not like or dislike, anything or anybody downstream. The Matriarch Wisdomona is rarely found drumming Her fingers waiting for cookies to bake, or anything else. Just because you have gradually learned to fly does not mean that you have outlawed the pull of gravity; you have incrementally discoveredenough about propulsion and aerodynamics to successfully monkey-around within the laws of physics and somewhat subdue, and then pollute the skies. The Machinery of Planetary Reaping is higher physics and is the pointy end of the stick; complaining about it is understandable but ultimately pointless, and demonizing the Intent behind it, evolutionary suicide. No sane, realistic biped could possibly dispute that a modern generation of theo-fascist-mega-dead have (as they say) high-jacked a major religion and are obviously determined to turn the planet into an open air, satanic fantasy camp, so as to expand the business of cranking out conditioned automatons to feedthe spectrum's dead end. Do you know a problem coming when you see it? If there is a real God that can take these fake ones to Hell, then absolutely nobody is automatically safe; in fact, no good guys or bad guys anymore. The survivalist struggle with the theo fascist monsters could be defined as an instinctive response to an external threat, but we might thoughtfully take caution suggesting to be doing the retribution will of God, considering this is what killed them all in the first place. Every persona dies in Hell; has a sentence in front of it, and The Machinery of Evolution is incapable of hearing, understanding, or caring about any of your self-calming attempts to justify, let alone glorify anything. The only question is of surviving it all. If you attempt ' sitting quietly in your room', The Machinery will read the results, if any. If you attempt do penance for The Firm, The Machinery will read it; if done for those around you, nothing positive to read. Some scientific experiments glean their results in taking note of somethings' absence. Like it or not, it is possible to measure anyhumans' temporal, transitory sensation of validity; conduct a forensic postmortem to determine its' origins and animation dynamics; calculate the distance a patient has to fall in painstakingly offloading the doomed encrustation, and measure exactly how much precious energy is expended attempting to buttress the doomed, satanic, electroplated, rabid-dog-like, manifestation. You naturally show up on the planet as a piece of common dime-store writing paper and are promptly scribbled upon by legislated educational curriculum; crumpled and dog-eared by partially man-concocted faith systems of organized religion, and fingerprint smudged by everythingfrom peer pressure to poop-culture. To successfully evolve into extended experience, the messed-over piece of bond must endure being laundered; cathartic purge processed, traumatized transformed into an exotic formal parchment suitable for an extra-temporal declaration of Being. Keep it simple. ' Prepared to carry the weight of seeing it all, and all that that implies'. This is it. Last call. Choose to sign it? The penalty for perjury is eternity at the spectrum's dead end and if you just don't give a rats' ass you just may quite naturally wind-up stuck there anyhow. Even before a newborn apparatus begins to take on an acquired, electroplated-persona; sense of self; sensation of subject and object; baby apparatus of transformation has more in common with people in general than just breathing. An underlying interconnected level of consciousness; corresponding to and affecting the human situation in general, can change, and effect any. If you have been experience conditioned to invoke a concept of God as an old, agreeable buddy or Being equal, it is not necessary that a booming voice come from the sky to inform you that this is fantasy bull-shit. Even psychiatric professionals are admitting an inability to explain why seemingly normaland average people, that would appear to have plenty of reason to live are secretly 'sleeper-seeded' and among evolutions' most spectacular failures as mass murders. Anybody that is just sympathetic to theo violence shares in paying for all such crusader crap, and the

difference between a million and a billion years in Hell depends on how fast or slow time seems to be going. Pain can be measured just as heat or a current. Different materials conduct electricity with greater or lesser resistance, export more or less heat, and some just burn. If you, all by your lonesome, decide that maybe rather not be a paper-weight, just a thing that's not been buried yet, you cannot possibly actualize your potential by being passively reactive to the necessary changes in your ephemeral sensation of subject and object. People in general carry an elaborate list of grievances with the undertakings' presentation of 'other'; count them,categorize them, catalog them, comb their hair if you want, but let them dry out and die under your conscious gaze because if you despise the dynamic undertaking, you've not been fired; you despise the enterprises' Maker, you despise Intent, and you've quit. No human can legislate any other into or towards successful evolution, and the Sober Suffering Sentience of The Limitless just does not; the challenging riggers of the Broader Present Moment just being what they are. The fog of war; it is inevitable thatpeople will self servingly 'miss the mark'; miss what is so painfully obvious. The theo-fascist-mega-dead don't hide their assumption of having a duty to try and tell you what to do, and to think, and to like, when the Real God makes no such demands. Input from On High, is passed down through the centuries and inevitably gets mangled, distorted, lost, or warred over, which of course is all a part of the dynamics of the undertaking. Originally it was not The Ten Commandments; it was known as The Ten Bits of Unsolicited Advice. State of mind; people in general do not and cannot know for absolute certain that they are destine to perceive in the long run, and this is just one more opportunity to stumble into the yawning, beckoning, pit of chronic literalism. The yawning void of an unlimited future, knowing all about death, hell, suffering and spam, is as much a pain in the ass for The Family Firm as for any of you stressed,semi-lovable bits of potential. The non-reality of an eternal cotton-candy finality are the ants at Everyone's picnic. It is tempting to try to find medicating relief in time; ' thank goodness that nasty bit of business is behind me' ; or try to dismiss cause and effect, ' heaven must feature no hunger and mountains of blue-cheese'. Na, this bird don't fly. The descending cosmology is a graduated scale of greater or lesser degrees of impotence, which explains why the subterranean psyche of the frightenedopportunistic, is prompting the indolent ultra-mega-dead to cash in their imaginary chips, headed as they are for an unspeakably painful and absolutely impotent, remorseful, eternity. Like a deer in the headlights; the concept of Maker, is scarier than what made. Immobilized in amber, conscious of their state, reflux suffering for all the sorrow they have caused; just as someone, a little eccentric, just oscillating through. Holy unsought intimacy Batman! Thee Grand Meany, yes our old friend Satan, cares not if you love him or hate him; feels a legitimate player either way. Intersecting at right angles, he detests being watched or ignored. All of a sudden, you cannot saythat nobody ever told you how to do battle with and slay The Devil.AND GOD CREATED THE HEAVEN AND THE EARTH AND DECLARED IT TOBE GOOD, INSISTING, ME NO COMPLAIN, ME NO STUPID. MEDIUM, VIBE, LIQUIDITY Earlier this century, in the world of engineering, the Tacoma Narrows suspension bridge failed, and did so in a comparatively spectacular manner. I'm not absolutely certain of the formal physics of the event, but, a vertically narrow road-deck appears to have behaved like a wing. Passing air currents created positive and negative pressure vorticity, leading to sympathetic vibration undulation. It was not the wind that brought the bridge down. If a bridge could have a 'self', this one tore ' itself'apart. If design could carry such traits, this one was reactive, susceptible, corrupt. Current economic turmoil might invite comparison. Obviously the economic construct is not idiot-proof and an absence of conscience can bring it all down. How hard and how often must you be slapped? If you are ruled by corporations, you are ruled by 'things'. As has been pointed out,

(nobody to incarcerate and no soul to save). In Toronto there is an urban myth suggesting that High Parks', Grenadier Pond has no bottom. Might hope that this systemic economic dry-rot is not leading down there.In a broader overview; here in the Northern Socialist Bastion of Canuckistan there are a handful of fairly large and largely boring banks, but recent economic waves have not had an absolutely devastating impact. Down in the Excited States of America there is a sea of eight thousand wild west banks, some of which have atomized, while others have suffered the excruciatingly painful humiliation of unsolicited and unwanted capital injection. Go figure eh! Crooks look at the RCMP differently than an elected sheriff. Buy low and sell high; we may just capsize this contraption yet. Someeconomists consider their branch of study to be esoteric. Only an apostate has any chance of evolving into Real Life. This is not to suggest trading one steaming pile of dogma for another; leaving one labeled temporal aggregate in favour of another doomed transitory clan. It means a solitary turning to face that autonomous individual identity alone can choose to be subordinate to Intent, which of course, in immediacy leaves responsibility with you. If you are part of a steaming load that executes apostates, your concocted clan never had any viability to defend. The ship is goingdown whether you obediently stay put port side, surge frantic to starboard, or run in a circle amid ship. The Limited is a business and it has a currency. Both buyers and sellers scream poverty when the leverage of the Ultimate Consumer stabs the market, in the wrist. Measuring the determination to drive your head into the sand, when unlimited consumption views you as a timelessly absorbed subsection. Ticket price for The Express never changes, challenge of Being is worth only what will be paid. Thepatent on the number Three has always paid trickle dividends, swallowed by inflation. Balancing the Books with a sterilizing quasi-myopic attention is a strictly volunteer outfit; interest rate more abstract than zero percent. The laundered and signed parchment, Declaration of Being, is a mirror; ya got to be there, to be there, and managing your own affairs. The Ultimate Consumer has a Crackberry and it actually requires fresh batteries, and a lot of them. Alchemist gold standard and your only bankable asset; Your Attention. THE ONE EYE WITNESS Do we speak of a solitary witness present, or a present witness that has only one eye, or the window of perception betwixt observer and other? Thee Broader Present Moment is re conciliatory in every possible way, like the rather fantastic sounding notion of a third eye, perhaps in the forehead. Physiological respiration and circulation are cyclic and autonomous, requiring no conscious attention, or any interest in such goings on. The psychological realities of Perception in The Unlimited are most certainly otherwise, and a certain percentage of evolutions failures surrender their essential potential through scavenger opportunism, round peg in square hole literalism, and petulant, head-in-sand, thumb-sucking indolence. The animation principle of an ephemeral sensation of validity stages a coup d'ètat on the fragilekernel of promise and smothers it in favor of an effortless and calming certainty. It is being suggested that a solitary Unity views The Limited as a breath, or as a tree circulating sap, and from a point removed. In the human situation, nothing focus's ones attention quite like being broke, or constipated. Social experiments, communist or theological, are almost always destine to be dead from the neck up with the scum rising to the top, the inmates promised reward as part of an obedient aggregate,fracturing incentive for individual responsibility and diligence, concentrating bogus authority with those interested only in buttressing their concocted fantasy validity. Constantly bombarded with satanic propaganda insisting that buckling to pressure from self-appointed authority was somehow noble, a road to salvation, rather than suicidal, dead-end, butt-kiss cowardice. For a so-called Individual, actually Alive in the long run, the higher the rank, the greater the strain of responsibility, there, in the

space between the ears, and in a diminishing crowd of peers. The ingenuousness of concocted sedative, 'they praise God with their lips but the calming fantasy of viability and validity is their only concern'. Constantly insisting that the enemy must be an external infidel, as if God needs help dealing with a berserk uncle. There is going to be a apocalyptic battle fought, there, behind your eyes and if you survive thisconflagration you are going to be aware of who the combatants are, not were. The more radioactive rotten the failures become, the greater the separation from anything of a tentative limited reality in the here and now, and the greater the temptation to swallow fantasy whole in suicide. Dealing with the walking dead is to encounter a toxic tape-worm and somnambulist host, but none of this automatically means the observer is alive in the unlimited. The experience of contact with such can tell you some subjective things about your own personal set of evolutionary problems, and about thee larger basket of universal dynamics in general. Some of those having a near death experience report a much less than pleasant vision. Evolutions' walking dead, have a near life experience but concoct a calming psychological drug, and die as junkies. ' Intent' has problems, issues, but seems to keep quite about it; entangled with it all, but can live without. The Machinery of Evolution is not obliged to conferwith you, so if Sentience choose not, best get used to being ignored. Some will surrender their essential potential being reticent to take the machine apart, afraid not get it back together again, but a percentage of your construct has got to go. Biblical language is often sugar sweet or dry as crackers; abstract as the great nether-world void or worst of all, preachy. Dynamic manure, pearls, and no gloves; made difficultand repellant so as to edit the superficial riff-raff from sincere thinkers. For a collection of reasons, not every human is capable of approaching, let alone doing the work of an impatient, but there is no place to go and be labeled either way. In the crunch, a solitary examination of the basic concepts of cathartic transmutation reaping is just common sense. Even the most mechanically challenged motorist needs to know of tire pressure, fuel, and rules of the road. For some, a sincere standing-under is all they can have, in a universe they can only hope makes sense. If you can pen a better attempted exegesis, glad to have you aboard; but ya gotta live it, and that is thee great equalizer. All or nothing is reconciled by Thee Unlimited Ken, with its' mustering of attention, cyclic terror and slow tedious rumination. The pendulums' extremes are lazy opportunistic assumption, and a ' having your cake whilst eating it',indifference. You are either being sold a boat guaranteed to sink or encouraged to raise a glass to the boat you are on as it goes down. These days you can make a living selling books that insist people are paperweights, but starve to death suggesting that there is reason for a bare bones hope of potential. To unconsciously dislike, is to have no say, no control, no balance of presence, and is a negative waste discharge of precious energy; to like; is like a Tuesday, it has no feel, in that there has to be the question of what is real, versus ephemeral. When a waning or unrequited love turns to hate, it is shown to have been of the transitory limited from the beginning and there is no greater nonsense than theo nonsense, no more savage violence than theo violence, no worse suburbs of hell than those reserved for such berserk, power-mad and genuinely satanic justifications. It is not contradictory to offer the assertion that the universe makes sense and that it not owe anyone life. The fact that odds are against your evolving points to the rigors of Perception Unlimited, the inclusive generics of thebroader present moment, the weight of omniscience and the taxes to be. Those among the The Living Unlimited cannot, and thus do not, denounce an external enemy since having part, with doing it all, yet know the purely ephemeral when they see it. In the human situation the acquired persona mask works to calm perception as if the essential part can't possibly take any heat. Questioning the limited sensation ofvalidity is scary, but denouncing the inquiry with "god willing" leads to some of evolutions most spectacular failures. You won't even see the cheque, the bill to be, unless you ask for it, and to survive you need to have decided to pay before the cheque is driven through your wrist. It is inevitable that some will doggedly connect a temporal aggregate of people with the imagery of the cross, from within or without that group, but the analogy of ephemeral

psychological phenomena bleeding away is just one piece of esoteric art. What is born dies and did die to be born.Omniscience, by definition knows whether any individual is destine to evolve into extended experience, but if She's not talkin, you will just have to play your hand, and do so as if your life depended on it. All of this is of no comfort for the re conciliatory embodiment of Perception Unlimited, if only because He has always worked for a living and always will, as too will you, if you want it more than all else. Anything assembled, whether in an immediate hands on manner or as a downstream result of myriad mindless dynamics, can and will be deconstructed. If you were in a state of mirror reversal, approaching esoteric art from the other side, from the position of being system survived, that which was being identified as purely ephemeral in otherswould automatically be entangled with your position as observer. Such a modified sensation of subject and object would not call a third eye handy, but a taxing affliction and intimately entangled with the responsibilities of Intent. The final, most complex, and most painful aspect of what is being pictured here, regarding planetary reaping, cathartic transmutation, might be described using the psychological instrument called Oedipus Complex. Durability unlimited permeates all that is limitless; Wisdom, Will, Being. Conscious Intent seated with Will can't externalize the enemy, but theanimation of doomed persona crap, spoken of in the masculine, takes the wrap, and He will die under the conscious gaze of The Son. He, having being in the limitless, gets The Girl, of volition, going down as dynamic sacrifice. There is a hint of mourning in His sober, timeless observation, ' but I love Her too'. One divided by Three equals on and on, but it is a surprisingly narrow Path. Current events features Him as a stressedcomplainant, and Her in travail. People in general do not normally and naturally picture their field vision as an entity, an embodiment of boredom fleeing experience as if such were something, somebody or someone. The Devil is in the details and if you figure Him out, everything else falls into place. BEING THERE Once upon a time, in the here and now, in a theater nearby, on a planet far, far away, somebody near and dear to you is dying, most certainly will die, may deny the literal physics of it, and (essentially speaking), may already be gone. The patient is loafing lounging about, reading some sort of pseudo-mystic fluff no doubt, looking for loopholes and suffering the same eternal, dynamic vice-grip calamity that dogsabsolutely every sentient entity anywhere in the universe; the longing after finality. Arriving at an eternal peace in not-being, serving a sentence and the patient being humanely 'put down' is not guaranteed, and an eternal cyclic terror in the work of being alive long run is all that's on offer and despite the absence of empiric evidence, is all that is guaranteed. The double edged sword that is perceiving of perception, knowing that knowing all means knowing that some worry is sensible and that some isnot, and knowing that all of the opportunity for any worry is downstream from the intent behind creation; being aware that the patients' metaphoric heart will stop beating if not constantly given awareness to placate some sort of ravenous black-hole that consumes focused attention. To take pleasure in a cold drink on a hot day, obviously, is a hideous, twisted, masochistic love for the pain of thirst. Can't have one without the other. A mountain climber, needing a fix, claims to climb ' because it is there' but might insist that living in Saskatoon is at least one cut above living in hell. Every human eventually asks why they are here and might conclude that a cow insists that it is living an honourable life, in its' hunger wants, in its' consumptions, and ultimately (perhaps) in its' relationship to the reality of its' own consumption. The human situation has heard that some animals can be domesticated and some cannot. To the cow the farmer might appear as either a plain old good guy, both good andbad guy, or neither, or as just another, but more resourceful cow. Whether in the near hell of Saskatoon or the cushy comfort at the summit of Everest, allowing another patient to irritate

you implies a valid connection with them, when in fact odds are that they are smoke and so are you. The window of perception between the two is rarely thought of as a being somebody, as an entity, but it is, and such is a lot closer to the stuff of divinity than the observer or the irritant, because it is the potential to become someone. All human interaction is as complex as the human genome and more tightly twisted than the spiral helix. Your essential potential for perception in the unlimited lies in the descending hierarchy of; experience, operator, conveyance and other, and to ' be' Experience Unlimited is to constantly corral and drive a herd of cats. If assuming you are a valid operator in the unlimited, you're already dead, and if you insist that validity comes from without, you have discovered a way to be both indolent dead and Olympic caliber stupid. To judge any other patient as dead or alive in the long run, is to insist that the connective, negative caring, concern, is automatically the stuff of legitimacy, when in fact, to achieve and maintain a measured, detached indifference requires the solitary contemplative balance of a psycho-superman, whom of course, would know better than to suggest or assume that any patient encountered is dead or alive in the long run. The true superman is a niggardly conservative when it comes to the expenditure of energies involved in liking, disliking or in otherwise passing judgment on anything or anybody external, and is a ruthless liberal fundamentalist when it comes to common denominators and to reaching and maintaining a healthy self-interested, self-serving, self-effacing, self-image. What sort of antisocial impatient would actually seek to undermine and dry out the ephemeral sense of validity so that a Phoenix might rise from the ashes? Got to be a little full of yourself to actually try and offload the self. The standard waking state of human consciousness is the exposed percentage of an iceberg and in the submerged subterranean majority, Yin automatically implies and includes Yang, viewed from within or without. There either simmers or boils a pot down below, making it possible to measure the level of ongoing panic over the fact that the patient may be a paperweight, just a thing that's not been buried yet. The furiously boiling are those that live in the more bizarre concocted fantasies; addictive and highly corrosivemedication invented to combat the warning discomfort of the initial simmering. The concept, or reality of an Intent behind creation is more of a punch in the face than a lovey-dovey bucket of cherries. To be disliked and isolated, is an unpleasant event, let alone it being an ongoing constant, but such a situation can be used as a trigger, as an alarm clock warning, as a way to help pursue, muster, greater and eventuallycontinuous awareness of the difference between what can last and what is purely ephemeral, but not necessarily evil; first in others and then in oneself. The patient comes to the human situation with a skull full of goo, but has the potential capacity for storage and operating speed of every computer on the planet operating in tandem, and the potential to prepare for a try to 'get up and walk away'. Planet earth isinfested with bogus authorities, declared such by themselves or others or both. Some are fairly harmless, some are evolutions' most spectacular failures, some are amateur psychiatrists and some genuinely satanic theo fascists; assuming and insisting that all people can and should be 'sized up', judgments be made, blame be laid and insist that anything that generates any friction must be somebody’s fault. Some would insist that being void of resentment is an illness of denial on its' own, the crime of discountingoutside opinion altogether, as if you could not possibly live without it. It is legitimate, even somewhat enlightened, to view all of the phenomena of the undertaking as being entangled with the higher physics dynamics behind it all, but, to feel justified in being offended, to take comfort in carrying resentment like a noble list of accounts, to sanctify a victim mentality, is to lean on smoke, is evolutionary suicide, and is often used to glorify externalizing the enemy. The celebrated, sacred group psychosisdepends on everybody leaning on everybody else, and independence of thought is deemed traitorous disobedience, viewed as an insulting threat to the investments of generations past. Real wisdom is not a vulnerable, fragile concoction needing to be guarded. There are, from 'on high' dynamics intentionally designed to keep out the nonsense pseudo-seeker. Current events finds the recalcitrant in externalizing the enemy being forced down the rabbit hole and becoming literally and essentially suicidal. Such do not disguise their fear and contempt for

the unsolicited introspection of the planets' shift of era. Having been conditioned to be dead, and thus so perfectly, diametrically opposed to evolutionary reality, those taught to be resentful make finest cannon fodder for the defense of a concocted cultural family honour. Bug-butt people raise bug-butt children and tragically push them to blame the brimstone burning of bogus assumption on any but themselves; hell, on any that are disagreeable at all.At Headquarters to the Family Firm, there is a strange little room out back, all of its' walls covered with pigeon-holes, and the entrance header boldly states 'give yourself a slap and check for signs of life'. The lower physics phenomenon of consumption, (combustion exhaustive, chemical osmosis, or boxing day blowout sale), sits in a colour coded pigeon-hole, as does the table of elements and gravity; right next to thespaces reserved for their metaphoric counterparts. Among other things, the colour coding connects together all analogy and denotes its' ' hard currency' status, as opposed to the literal cacophony babble of the limited. It is not contradictory to suggest that The Unlimited can simultaneously be both static and dynamic since the unlimited by definition has no parts and permeates the measurable. Matrix means embedding mass, containing essential potential, physics, intelligence, spectrum, octave, art, cosmology, mathematics, intentional temptation taint and were there no intent behind creation, odds are that stardust would not clump into human consciousness and deliver the sanity sustaining phenomenon of challenge, hunger, thirst, and of course, the satisfying of such. It is not contradictory to believe that it is possible to evolve into extended experience but simultaneously face the suggestion that odds are against success, and have faith that the illegality of certainty must besomehow purposeful. In extraordinarily rare circumstances a breathing biped can safely and legitimately know for empiric certain that there is a Broader Present Moment by having a cross-section of it, but the hell to get there and the hell to be there, has to have fused, and the weight of it be supported and carried in solitude. The way things really are tends to keep ones feet securely on the ground. Existential life and its' trying dynamic vortexes came out of its' place in pure static consciousness,appearing to actually need the buttressing of birth and death, as if the challenging trauma involved were a necessary waking antidote to something. Perception, that infinitely thin true plane just beyond your nose, that field of vision window-pane of zero volume, that rough-cut window atop the Ark, that blue tasseled hemline on a Pharisees' frock, the horizon ahead or behind, is between your alpha and omega ears. Your face carries a branding, and the owner of the number three shows up eventually. Concentrated identity embodiments, of both the masculine and feminine aspects of the universe, actually show up in the limited; are born, suffer, meet, suffer, and die, and your nested essential potential is intimately entangled with their self-servingconduct. The window of perception between them is the third leg of thee timeless tripod, thee only one that can stand in the long run, thee grand brand, evident in absolutely everything, everybody and them. The downward drag of inertia is met and equaled by contempt for static boredom, the need for challenge to be addressed, a colossal and sometimes tragic make work project, all for the need of the smell of cooking. Funny the way things turn out, eh? Leaving the static unlimited, for experience between the vice jaws of birth and death is simultaneously both payingand being paid, leading the tormented knife-edge travelers to occasionally and understandably scream the truth; " both the quick and the dead always bet it all and are always all or nothing". Only the Grand Intent behind creation knows when the dynamic of doubt will be abandoned, but every member of The Family Firm carries the implications of every other member, making Inevitability the tempered and annealed double-edged sword that they walk. It is all the same basic human machine. If someone were system survived and walking about; if you can catch flu, he could catch the flu, if you can get hit in head with an asteroid, he could get hit with one, and since he had endured having unbecoming psychological conduct bleed to death the same could and will happen to you. The planet has entered an era of apocalyptic 'sour grapes' and if over-night all people miraculously had basic western style human rights, anybody that has allowed themselves to be conditioned into sympathy for intimidation or any other form of violence, in the name of any organized religion;

such would still be facing having to share in paying for all the violence done by anybody, at any time, in any place, in the name of any organized religion. Some so-called religious law leaves all of the men involved stuck with the being of slave owners and serial rapists. Reaping judgment is ruthless retroactive, and any chance of successful evolution first requires addressing all prerequisites. The sentience of the unlimited is not legally bound to fret about the tensions at any others dinner table; ' don' t got no dog in that fight', no matter how frenzied becomes the search for an external enemy to blame. The machinery of reaping is not mindfully interested and will not be adjusted to pacify or comfort or convince anybody of anything, but, such an undercutting of the dynamic of doubt is in the cards. Facing the machinery as you are, there is not a good toxic polarization verses some sort of bad version of feeling valid and noble in denouncing an external enemy, and the dedicated champions of particularity will insist it is their duty to go down in flames, the negative indolent version of an all or nothing stance is what they are. To come even and have any chance of evolving up the cosmological chain, a conditioned theo fascist or frightened hostile indifferent, must decide to try to start, to turn and face what he or she is, must pay for what he has allowed himself be conditioned to be, and, if applicable, must start to try to explain to his children just how completely he has blown it by obeying the command to suspend critical intellect and despise intent, or denounce Meaning due to its' threat to the ego validity. Calling certainty a noble, Holy obligation leads to the zenith of physical and psychological brutality, and the very worst suburbs of Hell for those that could only be described as the gluttonous for punishment. A running, unfolding situation measured only in terms of growth, or its' absence, finds you burning the very ground you are standing on; edification means to ' build up' and all the edifice (literal or ego) ever built anddedicated to preferential particularity are going to collapse. Not one stone shall be left upon another that shall not be thrown down. If you do not create, or find and adopt a language of generic, no name brand neutrality, you are in direct opposition to the generic realities of Intent and Life. It will be difficult to see ancestors and, or living kin as mistaken, let alone as evil, let alone as evolutions' most spectacular failures, but you can pay now or you can pay later. The falling cleaver is a separating location of zero volume, the window of perception between observer and counterpart other, the third leg of the tripod of timeless, prestressed experience. Fashions' hemline heights are in constant flux, dutifully guided by financial markets and pseudo-mystic star charts, but the aperture offer, there, between you and sensation other, ultimately just is the way it is and the big question is (have you got the parts to stay?). Genuine validity has more to do with the taxing responsibilities of being there than the items separated by the perception. That cranium room, there, between your ears and behind your eyes, may or may not be receptive to new tenants moving in but, every quality china-shop carries the concept of a run a muck bull; and no matter how humble your room, a roof is a roof. All of the furniture in your room will be moved about, some cleaned, some reupholstered and some unceremoniously broken up and burned. Initially, it is very much more important that you take seriously the autonomic machinery of planetary reaping than the sentience of the unlimited, and of course, neither cares if you live or not, in that, sentience is not going to alter the ultimate 'taxes to be'. The machinery can't care and Sentience, by way of the machinery, onlyforces perception at the dead end of the spectrum, when the patients' sentence has turned self-perpetuating and its' exponential growth of torment is chronic. A widespread manifestation of the miraculous might lead some to 'metanoia' but not change the riggers of remorse. You are going to learn of the responsibilities of solitude, be tortured to death, (psychologically speaking), by being ignored; ignored by the One that is not absolutely impotent; the underlying probability of impotence beingwhy you hate to be ignored, and what left you so vulnerable to any flavour of control freak offering anything in the way of meaning to your birth and life and death. Learning to 'sit quietly in your room' is your only chance of life, and your room is the only place to attempt evolutionary contemplation. It is where all of your enemies live, and there is no help in blaming those that conditioned you, or any other part of the outsideworld. Safest bet is to blame God, and face the fact that a cage-match can be viewed from

within, without, or both. That over-stuffed comfy-chair of indolent bogus assumption has got to burn, and its' matching ottoman footrest of comfort in like-minded company has turned into a nail through your ankle. Nobody inside or out of your room is going to be real pleased about this and addictions always involve facilitators. There is a classification of literal substances that seem to have a ghost in them, and there is always a price to be paid for any perceived benefits. You are all alone and you might best look for help where it might be found. If you must sit, you can use that cold, hard, little stool called humble, faithful hope, but if it turns out to be rotten, that is, if it is actually self-deluding certainty, you are going to need a proctologist. It matters not if a tradition is long held, or if it carries wide-spread acceptance, or if it is, or was practical and functional. If it had its' genesis as aconcocted means of control, just for the sensation of power and ephemeral sensation of validity, its' dissolving may lead to feelings of disillusionment and or suicidal thoughts. An absence of control can often be frightening. Let's play some Blackjack. Your opponent, The House, offers a six deck shoe and thus with suits excluded we begin with twenty-four of all thirteen numbered and face cards. No cards are mucked unseen, so any measured period of play is going to reveal a variety of thirteen, somefive or less and some ten or higher. Paid attention can produce a plus or minus rating for any shrinking shoe, and a numerical value added to either of the extremes. This is it; knowing when to split pairs and double down is the only possible edge to be had. It would have to be an awful short and sour shoe to stick your neck out looking for a five card Charlie. From evolutions point of view, if you can't be master of your own domain,it is because you refuse to try and thus indolent, are gone and never were. Oh, oh, your room is moving. You're trailer-trash in a Winnebago. You are hurtling down an incessantly bifurcating freeway and regardless of the one of two roads taken, you immediately approach another fork, and always will. In your so-called normal and natural state there is a dynamic tendency towards imbalance; always unconsciously traveling one road more often than the other, quite naturally without control, not choosing, which of course leads in time to moving in a circle, as water turns going down the drain. From evolutions point of view, this is failure, and if perception is valued, this is... well... no damn good. The patient must master counting the left andright so as to have a running educated informed awareness of situation status, and eventually choose to try to choose one road over the other; attempt to create, and maintain a righteous balance, on the fly. If the universe makes sense, doing this is possible, and if you don't care to try, you've no interest in carrying the responsibilities of being there; you're already dead because the House always wins. Some crazy little group once decided to do war with habitual complaining by issuing everybody a gum rubber bracelet, to be moved from one wrist to the other when one caught oneself in the act of complaint. Introspection, effort, action, honour system, psycho-surgery, healing, results; 'of the minds of babes', perfect preparation pursuit of competent cranium conduct control, and resulting in empirical evidence of the only real will any human really has. Empirical for those involved, anyhow. When born as a 'room' you were automatically and intentionally inflicted with some labels; nation, clan, caste, religion, sect, assumption of crony connection, but the laws of physics, higher or lower, will have none of it. Some live to decorate, and some strip wallpaper to live. Your original sin is assumption, founded in the embedding matrix, but your indolent acquiescence is a personal liability connected to failing to question such force-fed, label-loving sandbagging; failing to acknowledge the common denominators of a sensory education, failing to spot the round peg in square hole mentality of the sultans of self-serving spin, and failing to spot the evil of the mixed metaphor. If you sign the lease, pay the rent, you can paint your room any colour you like, but thatwallpaper has got to go and its' manufacturer is certain to scream about it, quickly demanding that you buy new, or be labeled, as an excommunicated apostate. Perhaps one of the kernels of truth in organized religion is the notion that you are your own worst enemy and that what happens in your room is recorded in your room, where of course, obedience and responsibility are two completely different and often completely confused items. The words jihad and repentance were long ago co-opted by the sultans of spin, the profiteers of particularity, the

moguls of mayhem, but eventually you're going to have see what they really mean; a striving to die well, there, in your room, in a perfectly real and real brutal cage match, all metaphorically speaking of course. Thee common denominators of The Limited or The Unlimited are of an ethereal, supra nature, deepest in the fabric, and antitheses counterpart to any human concoction; temporal labels and the ephemeral sensation of will are nested, but not precisely reflective of higher reality. In the business of attempting to convey the conceptual abstract, words are the most primitive of clay and are completely eclipsed by numerical digits, and then again by symbols, which can speak of juxtaposition between numbers, and the information the digits carry. The symbol ofcrescent moon and star expresses the levels terminus of this and any other of the undertakings' cosmological tentacles. The six-point star conveys dualism, the triadic, and is way downstream from absolute unity, is that cacophony crowd, the number six and all of their luggage. The cross speaks of the final frontier, here and now, the singularity intersection of the polar and the relative; the tricky dyad of subject and object, and the taxing reality of really ' being there' betwixt birth and death, metaphoric and literal, and having to be perpetually aware of it all in the long run. All of these symbols and what they really mean are registered properties belonging to The Family Firm Ink and are clearly marked as such by being... well... part of any of the property that there is, and anybody caught using any of them in the name of any preferential particularity will be arrested, will be jailed, will be tried and will while away eternity wishing that they had never been at all, forever and ever, Amen.The term final frontier is a dangerously misleading item. The word final automatically carries the connotations of primary and intermediate, but wears a cheap suit that claims singularity. Every border implies two sides, and every time-zone refers to geography but not more than one time. It's a matter of perspective, of an observers' location point of view, and the fact that the seat of real life is omnipresent; no place it's not , no time it was not, has always been moving from everywhere, to everywhere, and always will. That runny nosed auto-wrecker, standing right there behind you, is the only real timeless ken and he is always having a challenging day. ' This damn thing called time has been a boil on my butt long enough, but there is only one tool left in the box; digit zero'. A true point is a location of zero volume, and a true borderline is an infinite number of true points. A circle has an inside, bordered by an outside; a borderline that could be patrolled forever and ever but not breached without leaving the sensation of other behind. Ah crap... foiled again, it's not the final frontier, it's Thee Permanent Frontier. If the sensation of other goes, it dissolves external enemies and external supports, and makes the pleasure of learning something new quite impossible. Between where you are and Sentience Unlimited there looms a mindless, inanimate maze; but there is a way through it. You're trailer-trash in a Winnebago, a conveyance that must be simultaneous steered, fueled, repaired and viewed from a point removed; all, on the fly. If you want to sing the praises of Meaning, or as some say God; sing thanks that you're not facing having to do what cannot possibly be done; such is meaning. If there is a possible evolution into extended experience, and ifthere are both possible successes and defiant doomed paper-weights, listening people have always been able and will always be able to learn things from people, just by listening. Even in the incomprehensible reaches of the infinite, ' being' and ' there' are distinctly different items. SPIRALS In the crunch, externalizing the enemy, whether claiming such a state is holy or not, leaves the intentionally tempted and resulting failure tainted patient, as a bird with one wing and in a creation contemptuous death spiral down the toilet. From Evolutions' Point Of View; essentially, such ones are just a paperweight, meeting the criteria of Thinghood, ( limited in space and born to die ), partially due to the always ill defined odds of successful actualization of being, in a hazardous universe. The road to life is narrow, uphill, and there are few that find it, which of course constantly prompts some indolent sour grapes losers to sentence themselves to an eternity in the worst suburbs of the spectrum's dead end by concocting a petulant pseudo-reality. Among evolutions' failures, those that are just things that have not

been buried yet, they are an ephemeral bad odor in the wind, they are re conciliatory only in that such walking dead both suck and blow. The scale of extremes, the spectrum of evolutions' failures range from the lukewarm indifferent, through to psycho-puritan serial killers and their clan conditioned sympathizers. The systematic formula of their failure and destruction is basically uniform, but the length and toxic torment of their sentence at the cosmologies' dead end can vary widely. Some are 'put' (by higher physics rather than sentience) out of their misery by being flushed, while others are stuck for eternity as the slime ring around the toilet bowl. Either extreme of any pendulums' possible movement is harnessed and beholding to a pivotal re conciliatory apex, suggesting that the intent behind creation neither attracts nor repels in any involved, immediate, hands on, sentient manner. A tornado funnel spiral expands in radius away from its' center while its' other end collapses inward doing the opposite. If you are interested, juxtapose the triangular imagery of an apex down, ever expanding and collapsing spiral, with an apex up spiral, corresponding to the triangular pyramidal imagery of the Block Diagram. The intersection symbol of a six point star might help in this respect. Sliding down the inverted spiral into the toilet requires no effort or attention; being indifferent or invective are a reactive panic to the fact that humanity is a byproduct afterthought, in mortal danger of being ignored to death. In order for one thing to increase another must suffer loss. Slowly, mindfully plodding up the spiral is beyond slow, it is an eternal life's work and the absence of finality just adds insult to injury. The apex up spiral expresses the psychological model of a primal universe having greater order, not less, due to the absence of the great messiness that is dynamic organic biosphere life. At the risk of sounding like a merchant of pseudo-mystic fluff, (no no, that's OK, you don't have to thank me for going out on a limb like this); the apex down spiral collapses into the generic singularity of any point, and its' ever widening ascending end disperses into the generic unlimited of any and every point, with the note 'DO', of course, sounding at both ends of this and every other octave. Up means carrying responsibility for all of the painful nonsense everywhere in the universe and down means a self-centered contempt for the Intent that lead you to face the situation of being but potential and afflicted by doubt, whether you like or accept it, or not. The common note that sounds is a positively or negatively opposed self-interest; the divisive dynamic is a clinging to the fantasy of a cotton-candy finality opposed to the unifying force of a thirst for generic, all inclusive experience come hell or high water. Up means a volitional movement towards omniscient boredom, fully aware that escape from such is why you are, where you are. Down means an indolent flight from seeing both pain and pleasure from both inside and out. The common note is forever and ever. It would make no sense to ask for deliverance from temptation but dismiss the Intent behind the trial. If you choose to consult your handy-dandy cosmological Block Diagram, you will notice that the juxtaposed spirals intersect at the street-side of level four, The Way. This tilt from perfect symmetry reflects the fact that the dynamics of The Limited have a mandate to try to drag you off the dead end of the cosmological chain. The only way to counteract this dynamic rip-tide is with laboriously concentrated attention, fully aware that The Way corresponds to both ends of the octave, the note 'DO', and thus The Unlimited.Path, The Way, Challenge, Experience, Duty, Perception, Life. Wisdom and Will Yin and Yang Romeo and Juliet Story book attraction, real life pang Father and precious little daughter joy Mother and prized little infant son Adult means the implications of the seat of Head Knowledge of all that is less than fun Birth and death Jaws of the vice

Pressure toward self-medicating fantasy Bread and circuses, certainty gives worse odds than dice Neighbour, implies forced interaction Maybe pleasant, maybe educational not Different from eternal search for the meaning of Wife Peace with sensation other must be paid for, can't be bought Artificially generated stationary wave Surfing such requires balance but no distance traveled Only place to do this work is wherever the hell you are The demon of indolent finality hates feeling baffled The Unlimited by definition has no segments The re conciliatory Way does have a border Where it's at, is where you are A weight is there and you are cursed with a shoulder ONE HYPOTHETICAL NIGHT It was a still ,clear and cold North American night, when, at approximately 4 am Central Standard Time, April 14, 2015, a Canada Goose high above suburban Kansas City, Missouri inadvertently caught sight of both the Moon and a shooting star, disorientating the bird, causing it to roll and begin hurtling towards the ground like an angry sack of wet grits. The stunned, dead weight projectile streaked toward the city's Hilton Hotel and ricocheted off of a roof-top billboard, featuring the broadly grinning face of Rush Limbaugh. The newly minted conservative bird headed next for alocal hydro substation where it slammed into a foot-long porcelain insulator, shattering the strategic component and tripping a crucial power breaker, plunging the surrounding neighborhood into darkness. This failure quickly turned contagion, spreading through the rickety antiquated grid system and soon all of The Americas, the entire Western Hemisphere was in total blackout, which of course had by this time had become an annual event. There then began a chain of absolutely unprecedented and completely ground breaking events. First, some sort of fully automated computer controlled electric system, managed through satellite interconnection to actually export the collapse out of the hemisphere and eventually around the planet. Tripping turbines in Europe and East Asia lead to completely unforeseen cascade breakdowns in other parts of the world, doing damage so massive that experts immediately estimated that the restoration of power would take weeks, if not months. Only the smallest and completely independent of generating sources continued to produce, but for all intents and purposes half of the Earth, in its' days' time turn, was dark for thefirst time in a good part of a century. Next, and about 24 hours after the Missouri substation first got goosed, the really bizarre events began to unfold. Many millions of urban dwellers, free for the first time of light pollution did behold the starry sky, and then, all of the night enveloped people everywhere, saw a ground-breaking mystical phenomena. The stars began to move, and then cluster in certain locations at their varying distances, and from the perspective of the Earth, created images, symbols and written script in every known language. This first ever event, carried an absolutely colossal, dualistic set of implications for the Earth and every other planet or star or black-hole anywhere. It meant that suddenly there was no question of either a single intelligent source to all, or aliens with tugboats that can move a star, or both. It did not take long for people in general around the world to grasp the implications of these events and initially some decided that it all meant God and did greatly rejoice, while others concluded the same but became somber and thoughtful. There was a small but determined group headed by the tag-team duo of Dawkines and Hitchines that was so horrified by the implications for the human ego that they insisted that it had be tugboat aliens and encouraged humanity to prepare for an orderly surrender to these very powerful

but undoubtedly atheistic extraterrestrials. Within a week all of the star writing had been cataloged but as its' implications were being digested the planets' mood took a sharp swing. The basic message was brutally short, brutally clear, and for many absolutely apocalyptic. Basically, this is what it said. There is a possible evolution into extended experience, but none are owed such and any assuming validity have no chance . All labels including nation, ethnicity, and organized religion are all purely ephemeral and ultimately an affront to the common denominators of perception in the unlimited. Intimidation is violence, and any human sympathetic to any violence in the name of any temporal religion will share in paying for all of the violence ever done by anybody, at any time, in any era, in the name of any limited religion. Women and men are on equal footing, like it or not for either. Regarding perception unlimited, to externalize the enemy is to despise the intent behind the dynamic creation; to despise God. A percentage of that considered to be sacred scripture is an opportunistic concoction of man, and the legitimate is a specialized psycho-drama that very few are capable of reading. Tugboat aliens, if any, are born and live and die. Institutionalized particularity is institutionalized hell and perdition. There is no cotton-candy finality, real life is endless work. The troublesome Canada Goose that seemingly kicked-off this bizarre chain of events actually survived its' fall to earth, and recuperated in a couple of days under the watchful eye of Rush Limbaugh. The infamous foul now lives and craps beside Grenadier Pond in Toronto's High Park. Asked for comment, she has repeatedly declined.

CHRISTOS' INFERNO It was a dark and stormy day and night that I descended into the relentlessly sucking vortex that is the spectrum's dead end. The first to greet me was The Simpsons' Brad Goodman, a self-help guru saying, "come, let's look at the rainbow of shame". Another Simpsons' self-help guru draws a circle, and declares ' this is you'. “ I hardlyrecognized myself”, I exclaimed. The spectrum's least conditioned are innocent youth and their suffering pain and death is the greatest of tragic crime. Reaching the age of an adult, and beyond, sends all of the stakes in this undertaking through the roof. The quantum cat is a little bit dead, superposition alive and completely both. Cognizance of mortality is to become death. It is being pillared, facing a sentencing on one side and the absence of certain relief

from remembering it all on the other. Being put out of your misery, is a best case scenario for the lukewarm indifferent and connected bythe unlimited to the spectrum's most spectacular failures, those assuming being owed perception. The Street means street-crime and any and all criminality means consciencelessness and hell. Inventing conscience and defending such is much, much worst. Turning to face The Block is to make the very best out of a very shitty situation. Genuine durability threatens a second coming, but never really leaves; theunlimited just being where it is. The Family Firm is a business, is run as such, and the only legitimate currency is the quality of your last attempt to live and describe transitional being; the art of attention. Remembering it all... well... that's life, and death, and a birth into life as performance Art. Marge Simpsons' mistake, explains a surprising amount, 'music is none of my business'. CARRYING THE VOTE Were it said to be possible to have and behold an infinite past, it has been suggested that trillions of eons before the present expansion of the Limited Existential Undertaking, a painless process of planetary distillation and yield was debated and dismissed as insipid. Of the Family Firms' three owner operators, at least two players seem to have voted to keep perception all encompassing, as a staged challenge and The Patriarch Total Power was emotionally perturbed about the question, and or the question being asked, just as humans detest feeling invalid, or believing that there is any such question. How or why any Member voted is in question, Omniscience by definition and the Magician Prince are pinned between the vise jaws of both physical and psychological birth and death, as are you, and have every right to denounce pain, challenging or not. We can try to externalize blame, or take full responsibility for it all by having and beholding the pain of emotion, or have being not at all. Intent, by any other name, burns the candle at both ends and always has, and always will keep the consuming ends at bay. You're offered a treadmill as consumptions' open flame, but not as timeless tangible wax, because the candle is viewed from a point removed. Dealing with the embodiment of Perception Unlimited, you deal with His Whole Family and you might assume He is both sent and willingly involved, making His vote atimeless unresolved burden, and what The Living all carry. Those quarrelsome two of Observer and Other are there in your head, holding bogus votes and insisting that someone is in charge. The ultimate bitter-sweet tragedy of an infinite past can be bought with unlimited future labour, like a voting share in Thee Railway, Thee Express. As we ride Wisdomona will bake cookies and Willie will spin stories about his lot. QUANTUM SNOWFLAKE Left and right, forward and back, up and down; this trinity of lines intersect right there, behind your eyes. In the human situation, an essential potential part is housed within an acquired persona, which is cursed with the ephemeral sensation of autonomous will. Left and right, your birth and death lurk either side of human perception, two ends of the same stick which is sometimes called your life; far, far too broad a word. The child can't wait to grow up, the teen assumes being indestructible, the adult takes comfort in ephemeral responsibilities and the elderly decide to die well, or die badly. The essential potential part had being before physical birth and moves on after physical death, but all persona are acquired in life and all are destroyed after physical death. Essence and persona move in tandem through the corporeal sojourn on the planet and this is anybodies chance to jump ship, to chisel their mark into essential potential, stating determination to carry the weight of seeing it all. Dying from the literal, into the metaphoric, dying to the ephemeral to be born into the timeless, where death and birth in reconciliation by life are one and the same. Forward and back is sensation of observer and other, involves taking responsibility in light of the mind of Intent; viewed from a point removed or not, there is a realm where no good guys or bad. The limited is distilling a

yield and the involved observer can struggle to be part of it, the struggle being viewed from within or without or both. Up and down is the tree of the knowledge of good and evil in general, the tree reconciles its' roots below and branches above. Cannot stand without root or be alive without branch. Distillation requires heat and unleavened bread does not rise. The undertaking is dynamic, downstream from Intent and an unqualified hate for any of it is a suicidal hate for it all. There will be no absolute end to evil and those that assumerepresenting the good are a bird with one wing, and cannot fly. As far a possible evolution into extended experience is concerned, we might think of the point where these three lines intersect as being within a particle physicists' magnetic bottle, maintaining the mathematical quantum superposition. The problem with our quantum state is that if it comes in contact with a primitive lesser reality it ceases to be quantum. Fine tuning the opposing polarities of the magnetic containment vessel is akin to learning to juggle a multiple of jugglers and the slightest imbalance leaves our cat good and dead or alive but only within the world of inanimate things. To cowardly put the inevitability of physical death out of mind is to negate, ever having been born at all and means collapse of state. Being a stable aperture of perception between observer and other is to have part with both and neither. If that one standing behindhas part with both the positive and negative, so too must that one dead ahead. As the dedicated political Rhinoceros says, "our platform is no platform". The trunk of our tree of good and evil features circulating sap, purposeful vibrations involved in sorting up an undertaking yield, survival involving the viewing of all extremes from a point removed. Original sin means that to which we buckle in losing superposition, having no will, or taking completely serious the sensation. Spooky action at a distance is familiarity with footsteps. A hypothetical embodiment of an omniscient broader present moment knows the counterpart to pain and pleasure or any other component of any set of extremes. An endlessly meandering snowflake that cannot lose stable state knows of both dead and living cats and is spared no aspect of possible experience. THE RESPONSIBLE OBSERVER The Will of Creation, just as any so-called autonomous individual entity identity that is entertaining perception in the unlimited, He, the Patriarch Total Power lives with Intent lurking behind and His creation dead ahead; always has, and always will. His situation is timeless, the parts labeled and representative of dynamics, carrying gender designation only for the purposes of the sifting and distilling undertaking downstream. His sensation of other being spoken of in the feminine does not preclude a capacity for nurturing or label Her as void of will, but it has always spelled trouble for the re conciliatory embodiment of Perception Unlimited between them, or any subsections thereof; a state of being or painfully becoming, always are one and the same. By speaking of a responsible observer we refer to the suggestion that one thing that the Will of creation cannot do is externalize an evil enemy, considering the reality that He did it all. Where this directly impacts the human situation is the reality that Perception in the unlimited is just that; by way of inevitability it has part with all of the unlimited and thus all four of these primary players. The tetrad of Intent, Will, Perception, and Other is a devolved aperture fragmenting your head, an obvious echo from the summit of the spectrum. The human tendency to externalize the enemy highlights one of the primary problems that people in general have. Cold, rational intellect is akin to a highly intricate piece of machinery, constructed of finest stainless steel and titanium, and requiring only the slightest of lubrication. The only possible lubricant is Meaning; either the universe makes sense, or it does not. Thefunction of emotion is of a similar mechanism, but built of wood. The slightest change of environment causes it to seize up or run sloppy and the lubricant that is generally employed, is negativity. It is being suggested that there is a possible evolution into extended experience but that none are owed such life. The ephemeral psychological conduct of an acquired human

persona may be honorable and sincere but is still of the limited and thus doomed. All of your hopes lie with an essential potential part; its' being, experience and responsibility duties intimately entangled under the rarefied laws of The Broader Present Moment. As far as taking full responsibility for an essential part is concerned, odds are you're a paperweight, just a thing that has not been buried yet, and as far as being a persona is concerned, disillusion is guaranteed.If people in general, viewed as potential, are frightened or angered by such asuggestion, it is a manifestation of emotion arising in the acquired ephemeral self and its' desperate assumption of validity, but in the cold light of intellect it refers to the cyclical rigors of Real Life, within its' common denominators. Just the fact that the past and future are unlimited rules out a living finality, and forces all questions, answers, and life into the here and now. If there is any legitimacy to the theological concept of original sin, then it has always carried some weight. So long as there have been humans suggesting a possible evolution into extended experience there have been those that insist that it is owed. The first human to observe their own sensation of having will was followed by the first to suggest that it was an extension of the Will of creation; the first example of the limited calling itself unlimited. Most humans are adverse to pain but its' counterpart is not necessarily pleasure. An endless state of either is comparable to the quiet beyond both ends of the octave, and a position between all extremes involves both Being and its' subsection, existence. Perhaps thee most toxic psychological liability a human can ever carry is the opportunistic, arrogance of bogus assumption, and no sane observer can possibly fail to notice those determined to 'make a living' out of externalizing the enemy. Not only have such ones no chance of evolving up the cosmology, they are the template for evolutions most spectacular degenerate failures, and the glare of contrast is most obvious where the concept of divinity is mixed with any terrestrial law. Spewing contempt for the Intent behind creation is one thing, but attempting to legislate others into doing so leads to exponential growth of sentence at the spectrum's dead end, evolutionary masochism. The summit, through some admittedly obscure and convoluted methods, pays effortto educate humanity about the mindless maze on the only road out of town, and the willingly accepted responsibilities of perception in The Unlimited. That said, the sentience of The Broader Present Moment may not give a rats' ass whether you live or not; but you may be certain that the exit maze is designed to punish those entertaining the slightest bogus assumption. Being alive in the long run and the realities of the maze are cleaved, in that the living must remember how the hell they got there, and know that they will choose to go through it all again, just to escape the hellish boredom of omniscience. Limited, ephemeral psychological conduct might be viewed in a dualist manner, in that some attachment to a labeled group psyche is understandable, benign, and utilitarian, while others are injurious and genuinely evil.An injunction to take seriously a division of one aggregate from another may have its' origins from 'On High'; other nation, other faith system, but could be the product of humans trying to form a new aggregate or give an existing one cohesion and traction. Either way, it ends up a dynamic of the undertaking. The cold light of intellect can know that a label of nation is transitory smoke and labeled teams a harmless aspect of a football match. Attachment to the group psyche of an organized religion can end up being considered ones' salvation and hearing that it is ephemeral smoke may be met with an emotional and even violent response. Enlightened intellect can know that mustering the attention necessary to carry out a will task, devotional, piety, ascetic practice, can be used as a trigger, as a way to pursue a cross-section of consciousness unlimited, but know that the piety in itself is of zero value or reward and know that any attempt to legislate such practices is genuinely evil. Some of the directives of so-called religious law may be sane and realistic, while others serving only to attempt to perpetuate an ephemeral and thus doomed group psyche and to support those that benefit most from its' continued existence. Concocting a personally favorable definition of reality is more than a little dangerous, but insisting that such is an extension of divinity is catastrophic arrogance, an apocalyptic crime, genuinely satanic nonsense, and is dragging evolutions most spectacular failures down the toilet. Intimidation is violence, the Devil is arrogance, bogus

assumption is atrophy, and anybody sympathetic to autocratic rule in the name of divinity will never escape the very worst suburbs of the spectrum's dead end. The sentience of the summit, the broader present moment, perception unlimited, the conscious conscience of real life in the long run, could be said to care, in that explanation and instruction is offered by way of highly complex Art, but the machinery of evolution, the processes of cathartictransformation and the rigors of really being alive will not be modified to accommodate anything, anybody or anyone. The responsible observer simply is. THE DEVIL ANDMULTICULTURALISM The nation state is an aggregate of individual humans within geographic borders and carrying a common label of country. To one degree or another, the nation state is a group psyche and the label may at times be a source of pride or shame, or may be used to justify willfulness or a hands- off indifference. There are many suggestions about many issues for which commentators have absolutely no empiric evidence, but it might be safe to work with the premise that when a human physically perishes their attachment to a label of nation dissolves and dissipates into the ether. The phenomena of nation state can and does serve some understandable practical purposes, controlling the movement of people and agricultural pests for realistic utilitarian reasons, but the ephemeral labeling is sometimes used to tug upon emotional heart-strings, as if the nation state were of the same strata as the blood relative. Other examples of overlapping group psyche are race, color, caste, language, economic strata, family or organized religion, and they are all likewise doomed smoke. Of all the purely ephemeral group psyche, so-called belief is the most likely to routinely suggest, assume, or insist that it is the stuff of the unlimited, or suggest that the carrier is an associational extension of the will of some personally favorable definition of god, and thus the most corrosive part of any national aggregate. At present the best empiric evidence for God is the Devil, brought to light by self-medicating certainty calling itself faith and the arrogance of anybody automatically assuming to have part with the unlimited. Most humans have heard of a conceptual evolution into extended experience and this, by extension automatically implies a broader field of experience, a broader present moment and possibly a unifying psyche.The word belief implies there is a chance of being wrong and the arrogance of certainty proclaims the absence of empiric evidence as a legitimate reason to call itself something nourishing, honorable, and noble, rather than indolence. The arrogance of an assuming certainty is the opiate of the masses when used to avoid facing the difference between the limited and unlimited in the here and now. Hurtling toward the yawning void of inevitability leads the weakest and most frightened of individuals to insist that salvation depends on sticking their nose into other peoples' business of belief, well beyond their own family and nation. A well meaning suggestion that the cultural mosaic is preferable to a melting pot seems to suggest that ' variety is the spice of life' and 'I'd like to buy the world a Coke', but the brutal reality is that all of the tiles in any mosaic carry some unbecoming traits. The model of the melting pot implies that forcing something through a preheated funnel will generate further friction heat, softening the rough edges of mosaic tiles and producing a somewhat homogeneous extruding. Some cultural group psyche feature a whining 'chip on shoulder' world view, people conditioned from birth to carry a victim mentality, assuming and insisting an apology is due. The funnels' preheating is transparent governance and sane, realistic, secular law. Nothing resists the compressive, friction generated, melting pot heat with the same ferocity as the concocted assumption of being special, a peoples chosen for exceptional trials, or overcoming, or rewards. The plasticity of conditioning experience can lead some to fear any and all uniforms; unaccustomed to accountable rule, conspiracy and corruption are assumed. A number of modern, psyche tinkering, nation states have a constitution and bill of rights that guarantee physical liberties, and protection for a multiple of organized religions; the most stubborn, dangerous, corrosive, divisive, willfully ignorant of all the doomed, concocted group psyche. The unified axioms of natural science can take care of themselves, but it is obvious that the framers of such constitutions were not interested in tackling the

thorny problem of the ephemeral nature of any labeled group psyche. Subsidizing a multiple of faith based group psyche is stupid, but if it turns out that there is a unified broader present moment, exacerbating the problem is criminal. The biblical use of the word 'neighbour' leads many people towards the fluffy notion that it means any and everyone, which does have some merit , but a neighbour is literally those with whom you likely would not interact but for their vicinity. A melting pot implies change due to environmental conditions and a cultural mosaic does not hide an attempt to walk both sides of the street, hoping that primitive old world nastiness will dissipate over time and change of generation. The freedom loving tiles in a mosaic are bound to effect the culturally repressed ones, and some members of the later are bound to scream about it, and actually demand protection for their ebbing influence. Some old world types do not hide their contempt for the dynamics of freedom and its' effects on their brood, insisting that any amount of integration is automatically an absolute loss and cause for mourning. An infant is inevitably born into a multiple of overlapping group psyche labels, but only a secular nation state can protect a young adults' right to opt out of an ephemeral religious clan. Only benign theo politics protects the right to be an atheist, and the right to be eclectic in thinking about a possible evolution into extended experience. If it turns out that there is a unified psyche of the unlimited, those that most mix the nation and ephemeral religion will suffer the worst. A commentator once offered ' things change in the mall', roving little gangs of multi coloured tween faces more interested in peer acceptance than most anything else. A hypothetical evolution and a hypothetical unified psyche unlimited, requires that so-called individuals categorize and accept or reject an array of overlapping peer pressure manifestations. The hands on navigators of a national group psyche can attempt to tune the dynamic heat beneath a mosaic lined cooking pot by educating the peas and carrots about the obvious common denominators of the garden and the hypothetical axioms of a unified sky and sun. A man get that manymetaphors in a sentence, he outa be slapped, but the powers that be, steering an ephemeral national group psyche need look over their shoulder and really try to think things out. The mosaic is a part of the pot, surrounding the void, which is where the real action is. The devil is arrogance, intimidation is violence, and we are talking about government being at the nations' dinner tables and in the nations' bedrooms. Europeans are beginning to question multiculturalism because some of the tiles of the mosaic carry a blinkered, judgmental, expansionist, exceptional, and sometimes even homicidal stink. Canadian justice put a man on trial, accused of murdering his daughter because she would rather be at the mall with her friends than at home beingtreated like obedient, subservient, old world bit of chattel. The state of Oklahomapreemptively outlawed Sharia law but the province of Ontario actually flirted with the concept of an acceptable amount of cancer. It will be interesting to see if the Sikhs that live in Quebec will accept a ceremonial Kurpan dagger that is made of limp gum rubber. It is not necessary be a genius, to spot those insisting that an ephemeral religious group psyche is an extension of an unlimited Divine one, for which most would argue, there is no empiric evidence. It is an obvious fact that a labeled group psyche can appear to take on ' a life of its' own', like a wild fire out of control. The preferential particularity of a national psyche, of some sort of fantasy, noble exceptionalizm, some sort of manifest destiny, may or may not cause literal damage at home or abroad, but 'one nation under god' must eventually pay its' debts, no mater how entrenched and protected a paralyzing polarization. If speaking of finance orattachment to the limited in general, if it turns out that there is a unified unlimited psyche, you can pay now, or you can pay later, but pay you will. Some pundits have suggested that recent religious upheavals are because women should be in any board room for which they are qualified, and more secular tensions because people in general deserve a generic dignity. It's all just the difference between the limited and the unlimited; bogus assumption and potential for perception, knowing that it is in the pot, and is not the pot itself. The more abstract universe, approaching the summit of acosmology, features fewer and fewer laws, but one thing might be certain, the Devil abhors the melting pot and mosaic integration but gleefully employs the arrogance of certainty at any and every opportunity.

VANQUISHED VALIDITY At a subterranean level of the limited, ephemeral, small 'c' consciousness of all people in general, there turns a wheel. At a minimum this spinning apparatus emits a low humming sound and among some completely average humans this turbine constantly produces a deafening psychological scream. Any terrestrial physician knows that pain can be measured, like heat or pressure, and knows that there is always some cause for the discomfort. The rotating mechanism of which we here speak measures the patients' level of panic over invalidity, distress connected to the fact that odds are the individual is a paperweight, just a thing that has not yet been buried. There are a multiple of factors that influence the level of noise coming from the panic turbine and most of them are counter-evolutionary negative; dynamics that have been in play throughout human history and perhaps the basic meaning behind the concept of original sin. Taking on an acquired sense of self is immersion into an ephemeral stupor, and to a measurable degree of taking completely seriously the sensation of validity and will; or taking serious clan labels, be it national, religious, social or economic caste. If to find and have being in the unlimited requires seeing it all, perdition is the only genuine finality. One of the more easily observed manifestations of the panic siren is a humans' constant need for reinforcing feedback from somebody else, hell, anybody else, but preferably a like minded sounding board. Those disagreeable are often the reason for the like minded association and often the focus of discussion. Evolutions' walking failures make no serious effort to conceal their recalcitrant stance, as if continuing to talk, to argue, to pass judgment must mean that they are alive and any question of validity would be a betrayal of oneself. Facing questionable validity is an understandably frightening state, but is slightly less trying than oscillating in and out of the limited universe, which is done by the living, for their own motives, perhaps to escape the painful boredom of seeing it all or the fact that all pain is a part of omniscience. A horizontal radio band ribbon, a stick, runs through your head; in one ear and out the other, and a vertical, hair width marker moves relentlessly from one ribbon end towards its' other. This moving hair is ephemeral perception, a sense of existing in a present moment, the observers' planetary sojourn, or to use a far too broad word, a sensation of ' life'. Every ribbon stick got two ends, or as those conveniently dismissing the timeless might insist, a beginning and end, a birth and death. Obviously, the difference depends on whether the situation is viewed from a point removed or from the competing, and seemingly antithetical point of view, that of the moving hair marker, viewed from within. If your birth and death were thought of as nails through your wrists you would be dealing with an aspect of omniscience that is expressed in esoteric art. Further, another horizontal line runs at right angles to, and through our narrow slit of perception, the sensation of individual observer and a counterpart other. The educational tale of Eden features a pivotal event of self awareness, shame for some reason, and a tempting, external, serpentine enemy that appears from who the hell knows where. The third stick to intersect there, behind your eyes, is cognizance of the concept of a possible evolution, the two ends labeled as Heaven and Hell or being verses not. With or without the esoteric art of any theology, no sane human can dispute this intersection of situational realities; this description of human potential is as unassailable as the long accepted axioms of natural science; the rapidly solidifying notion of dark energy not withstanding. Ultimately this stick-theory becomes as scrutinized as natural science, leaving its' theological artistic expression behind. The current youthful discarding of despotic rulers could be viewed as involving a sense of shame for having been managed like cattle; the Eden story expressing the realization that domesticated beast, you are not. All scriptural art that is taken literally, inevitably leads to some preferential particularity, and leaving such behind can be denounced as, or just naturally felt of as, somehow shameful. An aggregate of humans can end up part of a lumbering group psyche, concerned only with its' sensation of validity, and be doomed to fall like Goliath. Abstract esoteric art is intentionally convoluted, flat out misleading and vulnerable to corruption, all of which is countered by natures over production of seeds. Lifting of the veil does not eliminate this, but it might redirect attention to the intersection of

those realities there, behind the eyes, of any so-called autonomous, individual, identity. If there be Perception Unlimited, from its' vantage, all that is ephemeral is smoke, including a certain percentage of any human psychological conduct. The big six, birth and death, observer and other, heaven and hell are collapsing in on you, and ultimately you end up a load bearing diamond or sulfuric, burning coal dust. You are hurtling somewhere, the unlimited by definition has no parts, and any genuine validity requires appreciating the relationship between any part and the whole; having valid perception simultaneously from within and without. An individual brain cell is such in time, but is valid only as a part of the entire organ; load-bearing being in the unlimited is infinitely more difficult than being not.

THE DEAD WORLD You know what they say about masturbation, 'everybody does it, but for some reason nobody wants to talk about it'. From the vantage of the quasi-sane, quasi-free part of planet earth and its' business and politics, the dead world is a very large elephant in the room; the room being public discourse. The dead world is a geographic percentage of the planet ruled by persona with no chance of ever paying off their sentence at the spectrum's dead end, having control over a percentage of the planets' economy, a fifth column of people within the quasi-free world, and a percentage of the acquired sense of self of all people. The overwhelming majority of people on earth, when having reached a certain age, hear of or in some other way stumble upon the concepts of a broader present moment and a possible evolution into extended experience. Some are born into the situation of having options and choose to be hostile to their potential for Real Life, and may be so for a constellation of reasons. With or without any interest in, exposure to, or participation in organized religion, peer pressure can easily convince some that examining the psychological constructs called heaven and hell is embarrassing childishness and such pressure can also exacerbate the understandable, natural, instinctive, subconscious fear of the cathartic metaphoric death involved in successful human evolution, and the endless memory of said death. If thought of as a place, you do not have to travel to get to hell; the universe delivers. Serving the undertaking through volunteer work, charity in tight economic times, and the concept of an impatient contemplative life can easily look like masochistic nonsense. If you could be presented with the tab, a bill for being alive in the long run, up front, would you pay it, or would you not? Figuratively, psychologically speaking, you can never collect and store enough food so as to never have to give it your thought attention again. Pursuing genuine durability and actually being alive in the unlimited is a moment by moment awareness, two sides of the same coin, two ends of the same stick, an annoying subjective assault on ones' own indolence, the constant taxation to comprehend annoyance or anything else. Personal inertia and the dynamic pull toward degenerative atrophy is a solitary, subjective matter and a matter that cannot, in the long run, be dealt with in a purely reactive, knee jerk, way. To evolve into extended experience you must, so to speak, be found trying to meet sentience unlimited on the way, on the road. The bizarre, arrogant notion of anybody being coerced into Real Life is the mirror antithesis to the brutal psychological realities of surviving planetary reaping. Basically, you are dealing with nested realities, being and existence, the unlimited and the ephemeral, that which never changes and that which will always flow, serving the utilitarian purposes of distilling an undertaking yield. Whether attempting your own evolutionary introspection or observing the human situation around you, people in general are a rich mine of crucial information. Humans, by design, cannot easily see their own pivotal problems, but in dealing with others, things can be clearer. Judgment by another is not what is needed, but rather the good fortune of association with others attempting the same self-examination. Catharsis contracts with others must be well defined and purely voluntary. Few if any people are consulted regarding their being circumcised, but this may or may not be spoken of as a purely physical matter. There are millions of people that are forced into a cloud psychosis and if anyone of them where to call the cloud ephemeral, out loud, they would be promptly put to death, by the cloud. The equivalent of pointing out that the emperor has no cloths or screaming

' fire' in a crowded theater, the building made of wood and marinated in kerosene. People change, and for anyone successfully evolving into extended experience there can be no externalizing of friend or foe, in that, being Alive is to, of ones' own volition, be part of the Intent behind creation and there is no absolute guarantee that any of those around you are dead or alive in the unlimited. For any breathing entity that is aware of death being inevitable, and is suffering in the here and now, a hypothetical peace of not being at all can sometime look good. Such a state must be called hypothetical because if there is no vehicle of perception, then there can be no possible perception of the concept of peace or its' absence. Many people are physically born into a situation of having very little chance of actualizing their potential for development, born into a culture of intimidation toward hate, arrogance and perdition; conditioned to constantly assume that God and the world owes them an apology, which builds and buttresses the dead world within and the cloud psychosis lived in. The nation state, organized religion, or a lodge full of elk are all a form of group think, cloud psychosis or crushing satanic mafia, and they all dissolve. Some are benign, some beneficial, but some humans are born into a savage cloud psychosis that suggests it is an extension of the will of God and the doomed cloud has lead to the worst atrocities of current events, all in defense of the cloud. Rulers that are essentially dead have interest only in their own sensation of validity and thus want subjects that are sympathetic and obedient things. The ruling dead control systems of news and education so as to perpetuate their self-validating fantasies and simply for the purposes of ephemeral power and possession. The rulers that drag a like minded God into things have always been and will always be evolutions' most spectacular failures, destine for the very worst suburbs of the spectrum's dead end, and are the least likely to even attempt to sober up. It is debatable which will bother them more, the fact that they have no chance of evolving up the cosmology or their being the very worst of the worst. Violence done in the name of God implies reward for such action but this is a stunning example of the universal law of mirror reversal. It is understandable and legitimate for anybody to hold hope that there is a possible evolution into extended experience, but odds are against success and the percentages are downright brutal, a dynamic that drives the growth and solidification of the interior dead world rather than stalling it, let alone drying out and decommission the thing. Presumably, the theo dead would insist that only God could question their validity, but they have been conditioned to assume that there is not and never will be any such question, leaving them in a feed-back loop, a death spiral down the toilet. The machinery of planetary reaping is a mindless, wound spring that is intelligently designed to punish some more, some less and some longer than others, and for some, punish them endlessly. Obviously, some people have been relentlessly conditioned to assume that the rest of world would automatically be homicidal if anybody slighted their assumption that God would reward them for being homicidal, if anybody slighted their assumption that God would reward them for being homicidal, if anybody slighted their assumption... The machinery of planetary reaping has a positive side; after surgery comes healing. In the quasi-sane world and especially through comedy, all human foibles are examined, including the nonsense generated by bogus so-called religious faith. Once a self-righteous butt-bug has infected a culture, chances are it will infect and kill all further generations. If someone is killed for refusing to tow the line in thirsting after enemy blood, such a one might technically be a genuine martyr, but most modern notions of martyrdom are pure satanic horse-shit. Parents that are essentially dead do all that they can to raise essence dead children for obvious frightened, self-serving purposes. To do otherwise would be an insult to the memory of all the ancestors that passed down the toxic traditions that replaced their legitimate hopes and chances with the arrogant medication of certain assumption. The dedicated theo dead parent would prefer that their children be physically dead, or leave the satanic mafia altogether than be moderate, the later representing a slow, embarrassing undermining of their public clan pride; a pride insisted to be somehow holy. In the quasi-free part of the world, there are plenty of dead people walking around and thus a number that are in positions of authority and influence, but a stable framework of transparent representative governance and rule of law can limit the amount of damage they can do. An injunction against theft can be a part of secular law and covered a by a commandment, but the mixing of such things can vary widely around the planet. Bearing

false witness is perjure and breach of trust is most certainly unrighteous. The ever-so-noble War on Christmas expresses awareness of common denominators and from evolutions' point of view is a prudent vigilance. Public money in any way supporting a multiple of inherently flawed organized religions is a collective tragedy, with possible collective consequences. One of the multiple of organized religions employs the symbolism of metaphoric death, but this does not give anybody involved an inside track regarding getting up and walking away. One form of consumption has a fuel dying to its' world and being reborn into flame. In the dead world, and everywhere else that the machinery of evolution is incapable of giving a rats' ass about your opinions, walking dead rulers can make the trains run on time and intimidate their prisoners into silence, but cannot keep them from thinking completely, or keep them from trying to love the real God. The governing dead and their sympathizers sometimes pretend to allow a vote but even then, only once, or with no real choice. It has happened that circumstances are so completely muddied, people actually have a free vote, but vote to be ruled by the dead. Some cultures simply have no traditions of sane realistic governance and the only alternative to the theo dead is the criminally corrupt. Evolutions' most spectacular failures torment their imprisoned victims in this life, fully expecting to be rewarded in some fantasy future life and thus make themselves genuinely masochistic gluttons for punishment. The attempted work of a genuine impatient contemplative is an attempt to conserve and concentrate and redirect gossamer psychological energies for the purposes of an attempted actualization of essential potential, without harboring malice towards the dynamic undertaking in general. Anybody can attempt to deal with a physical disease or a charging wild beast without hating creation, but not without making an initial judgment call regarding the clear and present danger. It is one thing to see conduct, listen to rhetoric and have strong suspicions that there are walking dead that are determined to throw themselves off a cliff, but quite another to deal with the fact that there are innocent people living below the cliff, and in danger. People of no conscience, the criminal, are dangerous, but those that assume they are owed divine durability are much more so; way, way beyond criminal. The fifth column of dedicated theo dead within the quasi-free world carry the residual toxicity of generations of failed evolution and have only just begun to go ballistic. Their contempt for the feminine makes them determined to hack one half of their own heads off and not only do they expect to survive this they insist a glorious reward will be paid. Dead is dead but this is worse than suggesting anyone is owed perception unlimited or thinking that there is any sort of cotton-candy finality anywhere. Those that approach the question, and choose to accept the suggestion that nobody is owed life in the unlimited have the legitimate right to suspect that to work toward genuine durability, they need to be physically breathing, aside from the fact that the unlimited is wherever you happen to be; the doing is the pay and the here and now is the only place to both pay and collect. No sane thinking human would dispute that being ruled by the dead is detrimental for the prisoners.Is it true and implicating that evil does flourish where and when good men do nothing? If it is business as usual with the totalitarian, does this leave a liability taint in the acquired persona of the quasi-free, when the concept of the dead world were being openly debated, which of course would have to be done in the quasi-free world? Does having a genuine freedom to vote, or to be genuinely indifferent to absolutely everything, carry any evolutionary implications? Everybody wants their cheap sweatshop crap but this stuff really does contain the blood and tears of the prisoners forced to crank it out; the pain of dissidents jailed, tortured and murdered for speaking out. Provided those encountered are not literally doing crime, time spent with the walking dead can be more educational than an observers' personal introspective work because it is always easier to see doomed crap in others, and bring the information home. The legitimate attempted impatient observer accepts the tentative nature of their position and makes judgment calls only within the context of personal work. Omniscience alone knows all of ultimate fate and She does not say much. System structures, just like individual entities can be corrupted, stressed and end up shuddering, collapsing or throwing punches in the air. A bond-rating agency in one country can affect the lives of average people in another and current events have shown that there are pockets of zero conscience in that business. A double digit percentage of the monetary wealth on the planet is controlled by the dead and if you don't think this is going to eventually

bite you on the ass, you are far too stupid to be alive. The quasi-free part of the world might collectively work to contain the relentlessly growing dead world because it seems right, or out of a natural instinct for survival. Openly discussing it all covers both possibilities but is bound to infuriate the walking dead, and like it or not the universe and its' machinery of planetary reaping has begun to do what it does without your interest, input or approval. The totalitarian do not hide or dispute what they are, so the quasi-free need not suggest that they are doing the Will of the Sentient Unlimited. This is just a frank and open discussion as to what the a process might do to the indifferent, the criminal and those entertaining and protecting bogus assumption. The world has changed a lot in the last twenty-five years, but if someone walking around saw it all coming, would that mean it was all inevitable or suggest the involvement of outside influences? Some of the ways the human situation has changed, has brought some to tinker with condemned buildings, metaphorically speaking of course. The word edification means to build up and the word church means a congregation. Some cultures have virtually no tradition of psychiatric medicine and those considered to have credence, have the furthest to fall when their edifices crumble into dust. Organized religion based on notions of beingexceptional or on the preferential particularity of gender bias are all going to crash and burn, and globalization has and will spread the pain and death around. If the planet naturally lasts, and attempts at global governance do not improve, humanity will suffocate itself. So long as the ruling dead are consulted, rather than their prisoners, let alone the dead carry veto power, they will do only what serves their 'personal' interests. The ruling dead don't care if their prisoners have material prosperity or live in ruble, so long as they are at the top of the heap and feeling valid, superior and to be reckoned with. Prisoner prosperity always leads them to complaint about being treated like a thing. Freedom lives and grows at the expense of the ruling dead and is the core part of modernity that they most fear and despise, or at least is on an equal footing with their fear of the painful weight of real life in the unlimited. The modern totalitarians are genuine twenty-first century monsters, but it is counter-productive to expend energy hating them, no matter how pleasant it might feel. Strangely enough, only those that work with the self-imposed suggestion that God is out to lunch somewhere, have any chance of skillfully facing the mindless machinery of planetary reaping. In the long run evolutions failures don't count, a technicality of higher physics rather than a sentient judgment call, which of course is entangled with their constant screaming that they do count. All people in general have some crony clan connections, but the entanglements are all going down the toilet as you face the redefined or clarified technicalities of being a viable observer of and participant in experience. Anyone electroplated with, and having an acquired persona, sense of self, is guaranteed to engage in a certain amount of ass-hole thinking and conduct. For anybody, this is a mixing of the human and the divine, and having the persona decommissioned is a stressful psychological bleeding to death, a messy bit of business for any and all. An initiation has something to do with where the initiate seeks to go and serves as an obstacle to those uninterested or incapable. A rare individual having a cohesion of identity that could not be lost would be spared nothing, and having forgotten why the dynamics of the limited are slapping you around is morepainful than the actual blows. Being in the dark, painfully emerging, and living inthe light is part of an omniscient, broader present moment. If the universe makes any sense, there is no problem pointing these things out and if Someone has Being in the Unlimited, the same said dynamics are a part of it. Temporal religions produce some theo dead monsters and a handful of survivors. Only weak, frightened and ignorant people turn homicidal when their heroes are measured with the same stick as anybody else. Preferential particularity, is evolutionary suicide, rather than some shining attribute. Many prisoners are actually discouraged from, or forbidden critical intellectual pursuit because some fantasy perfection of revelation is supposed to have been reached, when in fact the very best of esoteric art is a purposeful puzzle that can never be completely untangled within ephemeral existence and rarely offers literal instruction. Emissaries of the false prophet cherry pick what can be usefully taken literally as if guarding a vulnerable clutch of eggs; the blind leading the blind. The genuine solitary impatient keeps vigilant introspective watch, judges attachment to unbecoming psychological conduct to be doomed, and just stops. Being master of the space

between ears is the primary objective, and sorting out the dynamics of being unconscious is part of the mental labour attempted the rest of the time. It is one thing to convince others that you are not sympathetic to mass murder but you may be so, and you yourself be unaware. If you look, there is a basic dualism to what you will find; becoming or unbecoming, and in the long run no human has to answer to another; everyone answers to Consciousness. What a confusing train of thought! Ultimately all of the dynamics of the human situation originate from On High. Warning insight is sometimes delivered by a genuine prophet. Some dynamics are the product of an opportunistic operator attempting to give a fledgling crony clan some cohesion and legs. Even if some serious thinking humans recognize the difference, all must facethat all the dynamics will run their course. In New York City there was, or still is, a public digital counter displaying the countries' growing suicidal national debt. A surreal bit of bad business that. Anywhere in the quasi-sane, quasi-free part of the world, there could be a similar public count kept of the number of people on earth that are ruled by the dead. Perhaps the best generic word for these 'invalid' rulers would betotalitarian and broken down into categories they are communist, theo dead, or your standard criminal 'strong-man'. Amnesty International has long kept a rough tally of dead world atrocities, but they have no real hands on influence and the incarcerated victims are unlikely to ever hear anything about it. No sane human would dispute that there are common denominators in the physiological and psychological aspects of the human situation, that ignore and thus overrule any divisive label or classification. It is being suggested that there is a broader present moment but salvation requires the abandonment of any and all ephemeral group psyche. By way of genuine durability, the higher physics of the common denominators of perception in the unlimited, overrulethose of lower physics and this strangulation is unfolding in slow motion. If the dead world continues to grow, theoretically, it will rule the world, and the planet will serve the purposes of the spectrum's dead end. If the quasi-sane world were to organize, hoping to spare future generations the hell of totalitarian rule, the primary problems are obvious. Judgment calls would have to be made and the dead world would immediately scream that the quasi-free world was externalizing the enemy, an evolutionary crime that they would had only recently heard about. The members of a temporal aggregate are sometimes heard to say that they are pro peace, live and letlive they say, but theoretically, why then not just let their own group psyche die? The nation state is a doomed cloud psychosis, but could or would an organized quasi-sane world let those divisions die? The multiple of organized religions are the worst manifestations of exceptional preferential particularity but would the quasi-sane move to tax this fifth column out of its' midst? If you give the pan-axioms of lower physics the ' bird' you are going to suffer for it, let alone if you flip-off the broader present moment. You cannot possibly get up and walk away unless you face that all group psychosis is going down. As for the dead world, it is a disease, to be taxed to death, the proceeds used to inform and otherwise aid the innocent prisoners of the totalitarian, no judgment call required. It's not something that the quasi-sane can lean on or justify with, but the machinery of planetary reaping is going to make thetotalitarians wish they never were at all, no matter what. Have you noticed how the very idea of giving orders can be avoided by just openly asking questions? Try asking the dead what they think and they will gladly reveal just who the enemy is. MILK-RUN AND THE EXPRESS (OCCUPY) For the sake of our mentation, let us envision two passenger trains, moving towards the distant horizon on two parallel sets of track. Due to the natural drag of physics one of the conveyance, which we call The Milk-run is slowly losing ground to the leading other, which we entitle The Express. On the one hand, the Milk-run represents the limited existential universe, the entire transitory undertaking with every aggregate atom accounted for and every ephemeral, combatant influence considered. These intentional dynamics are involved in everything from colliding galaxies, down to the distilling, discouraging psychological

temptations that lead many humans to dismiss the offer of a possible evolution into extended experience, or the arrogance of suggesting automatically having an indestructible cohesion of identity and owed perception. These dynamic influences lead some humans toward contempt for the Intent behind the created undertaking and extorts their brains into calling holy thishatred for the friction loaded production, externalizing the enemy as theology. The Milk-run is the embedding mass, matrix, and conveyance for the human situation in general, individual bits of essential potential for perception in the unlimited. It carries the limited small 'c' consciousness of all humans, and is where the acquired sense of self overcoats the essential part, where arises the sensation of being an observer of time betwixt physical birth and death. These essence bits carry the uniquely human cognizance of the inevitability of physical demise and the separation sensation of being an autonomous, willful, individual identity. Humans grow into the grains in shifting sandbars, of multiple group psyches carrying labels such as race, caste, class, language, economic strata, nation, political leaning and organized religion with it's steaming piles of concocted, opportunistic, self-medicating dogma. Each type of acquired label covers an aggregate of people and these so-called individuals are quitenaturally trapped in these overlapping and usually somewhat competing group psyches. Humans sometimes announce that they take one label more seriously than another, but ultimately a watch spring mechanism flushes all labels down the toilet. Within the Milk-run matrix, we speak of the conditioning involved in a human taking on from birth, largely through imitation, of an acquired sense of self, a persona, the mask and the subjective sensation of being an observer vs. that which is other, or not I. An educational construct, a media and parents either encourage investigative independent thought and the assertion that humans are potential, or work to condition the targets into assuming that all humans have an indestructible cohesion of identity, some headed for an eternal cotton-candy heaven and others for an equally unappealing hell. These sources of conditioning often assume and assert that they are paradise bound and work to condition buttresses, agreeable sound-boards so as to support in numbers their own comforting assumption of having validity in the long run.Many parents and teachers end up guilty of child abuse by force feeding achip-on-shoulder attitude toward the outside world, based on bogus, concoctedreligion or other cultural divisions, children conditioned to think they are owed an apology over some friction many generations old. Immersed in such an infected group psyche any that risk vocal dissident are under constant threat of being denounced, ostracized or murdered. A child taught from birth that resentment is holy is conditioned to hate the creation undertaking, is forced into a life of lingering bitterness and from developments' point of view is handicapped, for which teachers and ancestors eventually pay. Endless labour and no cotton-candy finality is what the universe really offers, labels and any group psyche fantasy of collective authority are all quite damned and doomed. In serious abstract thought the sensation of having independent autonomous and affecting will, regarding fate, is one item that must get a differentiating asterisk because were a humans' interest and input not required, the Milk-run sojourn and its' dynamic watch spring animation, truly would be completely meaningless. The primary volitional, willful effort that humans can make with their potential for perception in the unlimited, is the pursuit of a subtly superior level ofconscious awareness, an introspective casting of light on persona functions, but this must be viewed as an incremental, categorizing, drying out of the acquired sense of self and a divorce from its' small ' r' reality. Him, the devil, the doomed but uncreated, the unbecoming but animating ghost in the acquired self is like a cockroach that hates the light, He hates the death ray of being watched as much as He hates His thoughts on life being ignored, which is why negativity can often feel pleasant. All observable patterns, in the brain or object outlines, are of the unlimited but material items themselves are all as transitory as anybodies ephemeral sense of self, and introspection highlights the real contrast between the temporal and the timeless. Humans are not owed an extended experience, are not owed an explanation, odds are against actualizing potential, but an explanation and life can be taken by force if knowing who and what to struggle with. The road to life is narrow and uphill and there are few that find it. No piety, prayer, devotional, meditation or ascetics improves the chances of evolving, but the discipline of conscious labour, mustering the energy to do such

practices can be used as a trigger, to remember to throw the light of introspection, 'attending observances' can be done anywhere, anytime by anybody that finds such a suggestion to be sound. Some practices carry esoteric truth, suggestan important analogy, some carry pure death and hell. Doomed bits of psychological conduct attract a shell, animated by a mind, and He goes down swinging, He leads toward disillusionment and He defends His turf according to a mandate. Closing the gap with The Express in anticipation of an evolutionary move requires a cathartic offloading of acquired psychological attachments, a purge instigated by the seeker in hope that there is a path to extended experience, and into a meaning that does not ask for that which can not be done. Attempted actualization of potential faces the painful curse of omniscience, thus success requires working toward being constantly aware of where you were, where you are, a now, and how you got where you are, andultimately facing that getting there is more than half the ' fun' ; it is being Alive.The Milk-run is where the rubber hits the road, dynamic stage for potential. On the other hand, The Express represents Life, the broader present moment ofperception in the unlimited, carrying the constant tax rigors, responsibilities andchallenges of experience living with the yawning void of timelessness on the horizon, and non-negotiable cognizance of life being pinned by birth and death. The Express is somehow both interactive and static, the 'enemies free' Intent behind creation at odds with the discomforts of singularity unity, the blinkers free, experiential state of dealing with infinite being, volitional acceptance of its' basic framework, which ultimately overrules and crushes, or just outlasts all human divisions and their resulting intolerance. Express pain is worse when sitting so there is reason to keep moving. The limited Milk-run is in constant dynamic friction, purposeful distillation, but ultimately if the enemy is viewed as outside, not between the ears, such is to spit on the Intent behind the staged undertaking, no matter how any self interested individual or group psyche might insist otherwise. There is a constellation of dynamics that tempts toward what registers as human arrogance and in legitimate formal theological art the animation of the resulting taint is called The Devil. Thee Intent, Omniscience and the Broader Present Moment know this, so if the seat of the Will of creation carries responsibility, so too do all those living long run; observer and theirsense of 'other', or their ' not I ' . The Express is the timeless rail conveyance, carrying the 'stuff' of sentience unlimited, thee uncreated reality of the infinite past, which would trump even the players riding, were it possible to escape that the unlimited has no parts. Between our hypothetical trains lies the M.P.R. , (the machinery of planetaryreaping), the mindless higher physics previously known as judgment, ascension,purgatory, disillusionment, metaphoric death, awakening, cathartic transformation, hell, divine vengeance, retribution or justice. As with the physics you know, this higher physics can't be negotiated with, so had best not be preyed to, but can be studied and to a degree turned to advantage. Ultimately it shreds and dissolves all acquired persona, whether or not a so-called individual is acquiescent to the process, and a genuine contemplative ' impatient', those that sincerely try to get the hell on with it, are the best that any human can be. It is a rare human that has ever heard of volitional cathartic transformation, let alone pursues such a process considering the natural tendency to avoid pain and seek pleasure, and any psychiatric professional would automatically pronounce it all dangerous. All organized religion features some sense of the exceptional and an underlying notion that the brand is somehow lasting must be addressed in order to approach the starting gate, which is why many so-called religious people comprise the greatest numbers of evolutions most spectacular failures. It has been noted about cults, that people with a comparatively sharp mindare actually more susceptible to the hunters, perhaps because the target readilyengages in debate. Adversely, the bogus theocratic construct promises a fantasycotton-candy reward for learning by rote, debating nothing, regurgitating on queue almost always literal dogma, calling obedience holy, and it matters not if the member an idiot, so long as extreme. The most lowly ignorant little shit can be promoted to sainthood through one orgasmic, nihilist, eruption in a mass murder of the infidel unbeliever, reward for embracing

being especially primitive. A sincere environmentalist viewing the planet in a holistic manner is employing a framework of engagement that must be used in facing the psychological nuts and bolts of a possible actualization of potential for perception in the long run. Theology speaks of 'an eye for an eye' and whether the 'scripture' is legitimate or not, there is a punitive tit for tat aspect to planetary reaping, dished out by The Machinery and definitely not at decision by any human. The assertion that the yield from the undertaking will be generic, no name brand, could be called extremist, and it is, but the higher laws of the universe are absolute. The nested realities are connected by a check valve, 'as above, so below'. In purely secular terrestrial affairs, totalitarians, economic vultures and allthose sympathetic, clearly are criminal, but when adding netherworld notions, a single sentient source to all, a planetary yield, the broader present moment of the unlimited, the stakes go through the roof and involve special hazards. Humans that drag divinity into things and entertain a single bogus assumption are in incomprehensible danger; dead is dead but violent sectarianism is really, really, dead, and notably beginning to smell. The unlimited by definition has no parts, locations or holes but that admitted,we must assign a multiple of aspects to it in order to attempt any serious thinking about it at all; all fragmented temporal terrestrial matters are nested within the evolutionary netherworld whole. No sane human can dispute the physical vulnerability to flood, famine, disease, earthquake and every rouge asteroid that might intersect with the planets' course, but people are much less likely to view human consciousness as a whole, as a limited ' thing', as having been born, living, growing, ripening, dying, and eventually rotting. Current events are demonstrating psychological plate tectonics and quakes. The more subtle forms of criminality and intolerance are popping up like the relief on a coin but it is not because of human decision or specific extra-creation divine intervention. The limited universe, the galaxy, the solar system are spun by a watch spring that is as tense as it happens to be, and whatever happens, happens. Some objects collapse under their own weight. Omniscience knows who will begin the painstaking work of trying to move from being something toward being somebody and ultimately someone, but none can lean on the abstract world knowing. Steaming piles of dogma cool eventually, some will grasp the implications of spiting on the intent behind creation and serious, abstract thought will continue producing some small generic yield. A scientist working within lower physics observes cause and effect and knows that the phenomena is omnipresent and no secret, but a monk in his cell, attempting cathartic transformation is working within higher physics, powered by the same watch spring, but with different, more intimate rules. Our monk works toward drying out an unbecoming attachment, or habit of feeling and scores a success when a structure crumbles, a cross section of big sentience is revealed and a bliss enjoyed in seeing the interconnected and meaning. If these hard fought for results were to just come upon an individual 'the man on the street' the first tendency for the affected would be share with any that would listen, but none would be interested for long, the poverty of words, leading to a sense ofisolation. Revelation can not be shared, one human with another but knowledge of technique can, and the sincerely interested can enter into contract so as to help one and other in their pursuit of evolutionary cathartic purge transformation. Most humans experience coincidence at some time, or some a chance touch of thee wire in deja vu, and the history of science is the history of multiple eureka moments. An induced drug state is subsection of some other consciousness, but long run there is always some painful price to be paid, perhaps because it is some sort spiritual burglary. Many humans dismiss the concept of there having been consciousness before the planet was born for lack of evidence, but for some the dismissal is out of fear, which is evidence. A flower tracks and turns to face the sun, the sun tracks the center of thegalaxy, a human tracks the center of earth and so does the moon. The planets' magnetic field can reverse; political, environmental, economic, domino fall, the infamous invisible guiding hand of the market can start acting like a petulant child, and even a hard core atheist would have to admit that these phenomena involvemomentum. In any other galaxy, ever stick got two ends, don't have to go or be there to know, might as well be in both places at once and the ability to behold this is of the borderline

miraculous and worthy of wonder. Anybody could claim that at any point in linear time, human consciousness changes, be it the discovery of a new type of stone for flint tools, or watching the spread of social media topple dictators, and making theremaining despots sweat. For a cow or sunflower or a rock there is only a blinkered now, no concepts of birth or death, let alone the infinite past, and it is noteworthy that dictatorial theo dead are horrified by the concept of human freedoms in the present preferring to look for security in a nonexistent utopian future and discarding the endless past altogether, the same way an atheist discards having a future. The theo dead wear an especially opportunistic, self-serving, self-medicating, self-calming set of blinkers and they would be much closer to reality as host to the conscious present moment of a cow. It is just not that far out there that the way human consciousness interacts with transitory reality can change, whether it be the result of introspective diligence or imposed from the netherworld or imposed one group psyche upon another due to domino vacuums arising as the watch spring runs down or a combination of any of these. Some cultures have no tradition of mental health study or any treatment at all and people in discomfort are referred to temporal religion or to elders for tales of traditional home remedy, or some other concoctions which can make matters worse. A serious approach to the study of planetary yield is a mix of psychiatry and numerology, is an attempt to understand the psychological technicalities of the human mechanism becoming a viable observer of expanded experience and working toward dealing with the 'driven snow' aspect of the sensation of other; the dualism of observer and not I, is an extraordinary multiplicity because of its' interchangeable nature. Heading the cosmology, an observer perceives other as pure innocence by taking responsibility for the pain generated within a dynamic limited, the observed perceives this, as does the window embodiment of perception between the two. All of what is valued as scriptural, theological esoteric art is of some suspicion in its' origins and were it possible that a definitive judgment be made, the legitimate parts would must be viewed primarily as a very deep and complexpsychological model, accessible best by experts, with the parts to be taken literally in high relief. It is a paradox rather than contradiction that those sincerely interested in extended experience can have an emotional belief in meaning but approach the intellect realities with the maxim; I doubt everything except that I doubt, that I doubt is the only thing about which I am certain. The normally accepted rules of modern science are that a claim of discovery must be comprehensibly described and experimentally reproducible by others. What is being suggested is that if you stand the watch of introspection, and consistently catch the mechanism in the act of taking as 100% real what is purely ephemeral psychological conduct and attachment, this casting of light will over time effect the doomed, unbecoming phenomena. Some say that the pen is mightier than the sword, a widespread awareness of serious esotericknowledge would generate heat but still be inert, needing the spark of action. The watch spring dynamics of opportunity for secular-criminal dictatorship has run down and the question for people is of, cause and how affected. All dictatorial rule is invalid, criminal, involving gluttons for punishment and the man on the street is either sympathetic or not. White collar criminal greed has rotted out the planets' financial system, the dynamics of the collapse, its' sympathizers and perpetrators are becoming clear and everybody is affected. ' A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny ; and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine'As disjointed bits of the Book of Revelation go, this one sounds like economics. Anytime that anybody offers up an attempted explanation of the human situation in the universe, it is akin to all people being forced into a winner take all poker game, due to the implications of a single player really getting it right. In the modern era there is a single digit number of larger, widely known, temporal religions and if each were spoken of as a group psyche aggregate, each has a comprehensible set of problems. No matter how few religions, the fact that there are multiple of them is at odds with the common denominators inherent to a single source to all and each temporal religion is guilty of some claiming to being exceptional.

:either they view the labeled group psyche as an advantage, even salvation or as an ephemeral thing, destine to go down the drain as transitory. :either they view scripture as absolutely pure, to be taken mostly or completely literally, or as a psychological model, guaranteed to suffer man-made pollution. :either they suggest having an indestructible, individual, identity or they accept being potential and face that they will be tentative up to their last breath. :either they suggest that there is an eternal cotton-candy paradise finality or accept that being in the unlimited is work guaranteeing both pain and pleasure. :either they suggest that the conduct of others is entangled with some reward for them, or accept that ultimately they, like others face the music all alone. :either they accept a single Intent behind creation, placing the enemy between their ears, making the enemy what suggests otherwise, or they externalize it. :either they accept that any violence or threat of, in the name of temporal religion is evolutionary suicide, gluttony for punishment, or they do not. :either they see that all of their hopes and chances, all work and pay are in any here and now, or they dismiss the infinite past and future altogether. :either they see that all acquired sense of self dissolves at the dead end of the spectrum, or their essential potential will return to sentience unlimited without their initials and not even God will remember their name.Some temporal religions proselytize, seeking new adherents, or to convert targetsfrom one dogma to another, some are more strident than others and some religionsdo not seek new members at all. Some mix theology with politics and hands on rule, cocooning the population in a matrix, constantly conditioning them to think, feel and do what the rulers want. In some cultures church and state are theoretically separated, but there is some religious residue in secular law and politicians will tug on heart stings when advantageous. All organized temporal religions as labeled ephemeral group psyche, guard the cohesion of the structure, discouraging defection, and purely satanic religion murders apostates. Current events have seen the fall of one flavor of criminal dictatorship only to immediately be replaced by very, very much more rotten ones, theocracies. Humans that are starved of experiencing trustworthy secular rule tend to linger in a fallow primitive state and don't know what to do with a vote when given one. Having been treated like livestock they will trust family, crony, and neighborhood first, but are still accustom to being managed, and if the only ones that have given them any attention, support, food are the so-called religious, they will vote for them. The implications of giving power to people that invent a definition of reality as they go along is bad enough, but the ones that insist they are an extension of divinity are ' pale horse people' , pure death and hell. If, allowed to vote again the vulnerable population will be told that any thought of changing their support is the summit of evil and against divinity. The theocracies new found windfall of influence will be exploited mercilessly with the population conditioned toward the judgmental intolerance of preferential particularity, and forced to accept legislated piety and fantasy. When the material and economic situation stagnates it will quickly be declared a plot, the work of outside, decedent, immoral, infidel, unbelievers in general and a specific national religious group in particular. It is as if an evil ghost has been loosened from a prison but has a very different relationship with the big animating watch spring of the limited. Previously moderate nations are under assault by so-called missionaries bringing the most virulent brand of stifling bogus hard-line conservative pseudo religion. Huge blocks of humanity are being pulled in two directions at once and by sticking a religious label in front of a national one, they are taking a giant step backwards, considering the fate of all labels in general. Moving from out of the frying pan and into the fire, out from under the thumb of those with zero validity in this world, and strangely voting to be ruled by evolutions' mostspectacular failures, those with zero validity in this world, zero interest in, or chance of moving up the cosmological chain. Due to cultural psychological incest they have been conditioned to hate the Intent behind creation and have no chance of their mask ever escaping the worst suburbs of the spectrum's dead end. It's a hazardous universe and one strike, the batter is

out. Automatic deal breakers include, assuming guaranteed life, viewing label as life, externalizing the enemy, suggesting a superior gender, or a failure to want life above absolutely all else. The rails that The Express follow out of the infinite past, toward the active future are the open ended spectrum of light, the octave with its' vice jaws, the note 'DO' and is a cosmological chain that terminates in this and every other galaxy and solar system. Viewed as linear The Express rails are akin to a candle burning at both ends, at the zenith the ultimate consumer absorbs those that are prepared to see and do it all and at its' nadir transforms the indolent mask into nothing, after serving its' sentence, if the mask is lucky. On the Milk-run, a newborn, slapped into respiration begins its' sensation of observer and other, it recognizes the difference between a blanket and a face and this is akin to a meeting of sub-gods. It is sometime later that the child begins the arduous splattering that is the making of a person, essential potential being encrusted with a persona, plated with the mask and the acquired sense of self starts out sticky, attracting environmental psychological pollutants. To a certain degree this involves a shaming by peer pressure and an encouraging and discouraging from authority figures, but the brutal dynamics are that walking dead parents tend to condition their children to death, telling them that ancestral views must be timeless because they doggedly survive, and forbidding children itemizing the ephemeral. Like the concentric ripple waves formed by a pebble dropped in liquid the sensation of other grows beyond thefamily dinner table toward the boundary of neighborhood, the borders of nation and temporal religion, a holistic view of the planet, and eventually to the edge of the limited material universe to confront the unlimited. If the patient and its' relationship with the environment emanates from the dinner table carrying a hardwired contempt for the Intent behind the dynamic undertaking through externalizing the enemy, all damage will be traced back to its' origins and the sources be made to pay, with interest. The dualism of I and not I is a critical aspect of successful human evolution,being just downstream from absolute unity, interchangeable with yes and no and any other set of extremes that any might think of, including the universal wild cards of the polar and the relative. A cup exists but the utilitarian void it surrounds is its' design reason to be. Any human thinking of any dualism automatically forms a triad with theobserver being a point removed from the pair. If viewing the dualism of limited and unlimited, the later of the two has to overpower the mental field of vision, surround the limited and observer, because the unlimited by definition has no multiplicity. Near the zenith of it all, the masculine and the feminine are divided by a four sided window of perception, like visiting day at county jail. All of these numerology technicalities are entangled with the human psyche, its' interactions and the sensation of a commons. A living breathing human entity is in a physical and psychological matrix, is observer of other and is part of the others', sensation of other. As above so below.The Milk-run is a nested holographic-like subsection of The Express, is the staged realm of potential, the transitory limited, designed in the infinite past, (contradiction noted), and created for the purposes of The Express, downstream from some manner of utilitarian, refining, sifting, sorting, Intent. At the risk of overextending the analogy, milk-run means a conveyance with scheduled stops, and let us say the stops represent the dynamic drag of a limited existential universe created to distill a water to wine yield. In day to day life if learning to drive or type, to begin, focused attention is required, but over time some of the process moves its' place of functioning and can run unattended. The human mechanism isn't junk, it can do and endure things most would not normally imagine and one way or another the persona will bleed to deathunder the descending pressure of the spectrum octave cosmology. Nobody has ever been coerced, cajoled or intimidated into real life, the M.P.R. , the machinery of planetary reaping doesn't do empathy and successful evolution can only be called appealing if challenge has as much value as perception. Living sentience unlimited, may or may not mourn with those suffering moving up and down the cosmology, but definitely not with those being consumption incorporated at the very top or bottom, because that is up to an individual human. Perhaps sentience unlimited would say that it be a shame if a human not chisel their initials into essential potential, but accepting the reality of both pain and pleasure up to the patient. Feel

free to ask for or demand an explanation, the reason that the universe is rather than not. Once upon a time, and has always been, and always will be, and is in the here and now, there be two wondering refugees, a pair of concentrated holographic-like anthropomorphic, perspective reversible embodiments of observer and other in the guise of an individual masculine and an individual feminine. For a somewhat self-serving but absolutely pivotal reason, this eccentric couple periodically show up on The Milk-run, expressing technicalities of The Express. Variety is called the spice of life and a mountain climber views challenge as a highly prized commodity, perhaps likewise does the seat of the Intent behind Creation at the summit of it All. Him and Her, the ultimate dualism, periodically are born, live, meet, suffer and die, on this and perhaps every planet where there is awareness of Death, and as far as one solar system is concerned, they alternate leaving first. Within the ephemeral Milk-run undertaking, people in general all have two ears and one nose, their transitory, blinkered, limited present moment awareness moves from physical birth towards physical death and the arrival of cognizance of the inevitability of the grave is the appearance of The Express in the corner of ones eye. When these concentrated embodiments of observer andother show up on the Milk-run, the window of perception between them, and their individual sensation of perception between birth and death, intersect at a common point connecting these players with the technicalities of unity being. Ultimate bifurcation is connected as both three and one, their showing up is demonstrable, as they suffer separation and reunion, the whole process is shown to be both a verb and noun as union. If these two deal with this oscillation vibration as the broader present moment, so too must this planets' yield, because it has always been this way and will always be this way. As is the norm with married folk, one dies before the other, but showing up on the Milk-run more than once means that for some experiential and demonstrative reason they alternate being left behind to remember. Either these two show up at the direction of the Intent behind creation, or of their own volition, possibly because the cosmological zenith is static, and a divine bore. Where these multiple lines of psychological technicality intersect is ground zero for perception in the unlimited, an overruling and connective mixing of the masculine and feminine, observer and other, birth and death, agony and ecstasy, yes and no, polar and relative and any other set of extremes. The singularity of ultimate consumer burns at both ends of the cosmological candle, illuminates both ends of the spectrum, sounds at both ends of the octave, and is one with the Intent behind the Milk-run creation, which has a secondary, afterthought utility; this is you. Solitary individual humans, viewed as seed potential aboard the Milk-run conveyance, that suggest any interest in evolving into remembering anything about anything in the long run, accept the necessity to move fully aboard The Express and make this decision all by their lonesome, all peer pressures be damned. The pan dynamics affecting human potential and the occasionalappearance of prophets, some genuine, some not, within the Milk-run experience is a recipe for fragmentation into labeled group psyches and the rise of battleground competition for claims of validity and superiority. Natural fear and resentment for the genuine being of real durability in the unlimited, and its' ability to just ignore one to death, is mixed with the need for a responding feedback sounding board, just to feel alive, to feel involved by arguing validity with others that are of an equally tentative reality. If some part of the sensation of other is engaged, the interaction, be it toxic or agreeable, is felt as comforting, viewed as underpinning evidence for the presence of life. This phenomena can reach ridicules heights where the view of life is fully concocted, with the insecure both conditioning and buttressing one and other, so as tokeep fantasy afloat, doggedly defending as holy a definition of reality, even judging reason, the empiric and common sense, to be evil. Many that insist having an interest in extended experience through organized religion are actually the most timid abouta serious exploration of how the human mechanism and the M.P.R. work, preferring to cling to their familiar, steaming, piles of dogma. Claiming to be right hardens into 'making a living' out of insisting that those outside the fold must be wrong, and in some of the worst of arrogance on the planet the leaders of a theocratic group psyche will invent and use a derogatory word or phrase for all of humanity except themselves, insisting those that are outside have no faith,

no hope, no love and no part with revelation or enlightenment. Humans that are lukewarm indifferent about the offer of extended experience, anywhere on the planet, may or may not be downright hostile to the concept of perceiving anything at all, perhaps it's an ego thing, but one thing certain, such people don't want to pay for it. Better being master of the house for a space than being an equal or subordinate in the long run, convinced that a single source to all would automatically be out to humiliate them. Better off savoring the sensation of being superior to somebody else, or the surrounding natural world, than carrying the weight of an inability to externalize Intents' connection with that judged inferior, the poorest of the poor. Better off the restful nihilistic finality of not being than facing the reality that experience in the long run is endless challenging work, featuring agony and ecstasy, injury and healing, and no cotton-candy finality. A ' heaven' may feature no physical pain and a blissful love but omniscience knows about their opposites and every bird got two wings, a pendulum at rest is upright or righteous, every stick got two ends and ultimately, all extremes are reconciled. People can mechanically mutter ' you only go around once' all they want, to justify whatever they want, to be as lazy as lead if they want, but pay they will if they are wrong .Ignorance of the law and a refusal to face the difference between the limited and unlimited is no defense; ' for all you know ' , the essential potential part may have always 'gone around' and always will go around with or without your initials attached. Throughout human history opportunistic and usually warring leaders have conditioned their labeled group of subjects into assuming that they, leaders and followers, were an extension of the wisdom, will, judgment, retribution and durability of the divine. This usurpation of The Throne of divinity has resulted in the creation of the greatest numbers of evolutions most spectacular failures, sending many billions of the very most toxic persona to the very worst suburbs of the spectrum's dead end. Those that are outside of such fantasy underpinned group psyche are considered to be evil clay pidgins, created to be targeted, or viewed as mistakes made by the Intent behind the dynamic undertaking. It is insisted that creation needs help cleaning up a mess and the captive population is conditioned to assume an assured reward if they die in the act of destroying the offending parts of existence. The modern concept of an offensive martyr is showcase for the purest possible antithesis to life; assumed durability, asserting physics knows labels, externalizing the enemy and life being anywhere but here and now. The persona of all such primitive dud bipeds with their sympathizers end up in an eternity with seventy two vermin, being forced to perceive, and as the opposite to potency, absolutely unable to end the self-inflicted pain. Not every labeled group psyche is bent on world domination, but some of them are and only one comes close to serving the purposes of human potential, the psyche of free scrutiny. All dictatorial totalitarian disease involves intimidation, which is violence without mandate, which is crime, which, provided we are including netherworld dynamics, is gluttony for punishment. The quasi-free world can promote liberty as secular self-interest, a security issue, self-preservation, but freedom and scrutiny is always automatically denounced as the antithesis to theocratic-perverse authority. Dictatorial rule by the walking dead often seems a quite stable construct right up to the start of its' crumbling. A population collectively conditioned as chattel alwayshave some things in common, and always divided, some supporting the doomed rule, some coming together to throw off the yoke. Lukewarm indifferent or bogus religion afflicted, under any label, many humans surrender their potential for life on The Express simply out of a frightened resentment for genuine durability, oblivious to the reality that unlimited life is infinitely more trying than almost anything seen here, and blind to the reality that the doing is the pay. The summit of the cosmology is somehow both static and stressed, knows of multiplicity and absolute indivisible unity, big bang oscillation in and out of existence viewed from a point removed or from the center of it all, and any human that wants to evolve, wants to tackle these and every other psychological, situational, experiential, and challenging question. The panic of being only potential and thus of a tentative reality, drives people deeper into concocted fantasy, a ban on critical intellect by the totalitarian or an embarrassed fear of interest in netherworld matters solidifying the damage. Being ignored to death by the genuine durability of the broader present moment is painful enough, but being ruled by

humans that assume divine durability and demand that you bow to them, is to add insult to injury. The fact that all people face the M.P.R. and face it alone, means that those imprisoned by a repressive theocratic construct are forced to face that only an apostate has any chance of evolving and a heavily invested group psyche will lash out against the courageous pilgrim. A religiously oppressive group psyche demands robot obedience and bans its' members from critical thought as a matter of control and cohesion; judges those across a border to be inferior and lost on so-called theological grounds, but ultimately it all comes back to the psychological technicalities of being alegitimate observer of experience and the timeless realities of being part of everyone others', sensation of other. The quasi-free world has far from perfect governance, but if free and fair voting gives a monopoly on violence to secular and scrutinized agencies, under a realistic constitution for a generally neutral unisex commons, this is the best attempt at terrestrial rule so far. Gender equality in the quasi-free part of the planet is far from perfect, but there are many men that have the balls to acknowledge that the not so distant past was full of crime in such matters, and have the balls to call themselves a feminist. In an amazing case of mirror reversal, concocted theological law is the purely satanic, and secular law that allows free study and gender interaction actually helps the limited universe undertaking and serves the Intent behind creation. The best attempts at secular temporal governance require serious investigative objectivity in media and education but current events show a corrosive rot in both. An obvious bias agenda calls itself news, Toxic T.V. is showcase for the art of the gutter snipe, well groomed talking heads snort negative farts about manufactured crisis, savage the character of all of those on the other side of political leanings with the goal being the greatest polarization possible, often in the service of those inside gated communities, determined to climb their boundary walls and pee on the rabble outside. The protection of life by a broader federal security system is judged prudent, but a giving of life, a protecting, an extending of life through a subsidized commons is viewed as the most hennas crime possible, a fascist assault on individual liberty. Success must be measured against some other, the greater the inequality the more the satisfaction of calling it self-reliance, movement toward equality requires top down involvement so must be an evil jack boot plot. Equality may limit the broadest possible choice but an ' I've got mine' mindset that actually harms,is contempt for the concept of any commons support. The more traditional news portals offer some objectivity and don't spend a lot of energy screaming that they are fair, balanced and under constant attack, but they are the property of organized money and the conscious nose can detect omission and soft-pedaling done in an attempt to fluff the pillow of the slumbering commons. When a business gives more to lobbyists and politicians for their campaigns than it pays in taxes, critical mass has been reached, rulers and the ruled care not what makes sense. Private schools do not always and everywhere automatically undermine the quality of the educational constructs that are public, for the general commons, but it does depend on tax bases and some peoples' ability to pay for both. If qualities are different at the expense of a hollowed out commons it is preferential particularity, and a desire to get the best for oneself and ones children does not trump this, no matter if it be called punishing success. Private schools of a theological bases are most always sectarian and guaranteed to teach some preferential particularity, be less likely to emphasize the common denominators of either the Milk-run or Express. Some private schools arecreated and supported by evolutions' most spectacular failures, hard-line conservative psycho-puritan monsters, convinced and determined to teach that some magic caliphate will pop out of their collective butts to rule the planet with a concocted law featuring methodical, systematic contempt for both the masculine and feminine aspects of both the milk-run and the express; fearful hatred for critical intellect, reason, truth, freedom and the Intent behind creation. These constructs are a screaming example of mirror reversal, and contrast; these opportunists expect an extraordinary reward from a 'sentience' but are destine for an extraordinary suffering when their persona is processed by the cold mindless technical machinery of mask decommissioning at spectrum's dead end. Such constructs in the quasi-free world or anywhere else are child abuse, a fifth column, radio active rotten pollution, preaching that the sectarian label is gold plated salvation rather than the reality of being a

mill stone around the neck. Wherever found, those that are destine for the very worst suburbs of the spectrum's dead end are potential ticking time bombs, and unless a cleaver drops, with them turning to face the music, it will extend the sentence oftheir ancestors; if they pass on the 'pox blanket' it is all added to their bill. If the way things really are turns out to be harder on one group that has a more entrenched and elaborate tradition of preferential particularity, they will call it an assault on both them and divinity, rather than trouble coming to the conditioning in there heads. With great wailing and gnashing of teeth, such a reversal will greatly compound their dismissive contempt for their day to day external enemy, the quasi-free, thinking, outside world. There is a tiny group of people somewhere on the planet that have a distinct linguistic vocabulary that does not allow for expressions of personal propertyownership, making their relationship with the commons much different than most humans. There is an especially nasty dynamic in the limited universe that is the absence of immediacy, and if humans were to begin to promptly wince in contrition, suffer a remorse of conscience when unconsciously stumbling into doomed, unbecoming psychological conduct, it would become a very different and very strange world. If such a thing happened to one biped on the planet it could happen to any or everyone, and strangely enough such an afflicted one would not run around sharing because it would seem, and is a very intimate and 'personal' matter. Some say the only ones that are really anxious to tell another about a dream they had last night are the very very young and the very very old. Almost anywhere in world there are peopledetermined to cheat the taxman and in some cultures clipping the commons isconsidered an honorable sport rather than parasitic. This disdain for the temporal,day to day economics of a commons can sap the legitimacy, cohesion and viability of entire nations and give rise to generations conditioned into a man-made dearth of conscience, some becoming determined to hollow out any basic universal service. Some cultures are so materially corrupt at every level of the public and private that the commons has been picked clean of even cursory meaning and selfishness has become ingrained even in those that can easily pay all of the bribes demanded. Living under totalitarian rule forces the inmates into disingenuous schizophrenic theatrics, only engaging in sincere discourse across the family dinner table and viewing the outside commons as a place where living as a lie, careful role playing as an idiot blank slug or obedient chattel is a constant nagging necessity. Anybody encountered is under suspicion of being a malevolent informant for the invalid rulers, so that frank honesty carries very real risks. Dictators and their loyal supporters may make the trains run on time but they are all criminal, the goods produced by the national prison contain the blood and tears of all the dissidents imprisoned, tortured, and murdered, and all totalitarian constructs are a threat to places beyond its' borders. Were there a defined temporal terrestrial conscience, these ones have none and they do not hide or dispute being invalid and criminal. The circulating monetary resources of the walking dead are a poison in the economic bloodstream of the planet and dead money may end up being what tips the scales, leaving the earth ruled by an aggregate of walking dead 'things'. Some pundits say, ' justice be done and seen to be done', and the quasi-free world could tax the walking dead, ban their movements in the democratic world, make it clear when the quasi-free population are near blood soaked goods, and this wouldnot encourage or require that anybody expend emotional energy in hate or love for the walking dead, just allow people to know they are where they are. The concept of a possible evolution automatically brings the fact that some seeds germinate and some don't, and the way things are in the current era, if an ax were to drop, a single digit percentage of humanity would have a chance of approaching the starting gate. Organized religion in general is a dilute and polluted presentation of the genuine contemplative life, a disjointed indicator of the psychological technicalities of a monks' work. A measured indifference is a difficult state, a matter of intellect rather than emotion and is confusing when dictators of a perverse theological nature demand that their prisoners hate (emotion) the Intent behind creation by externalizing the enemy. Can not serve both God and man, raw intellect screams that Grand Intent

made it all, making the negative emotion of claiming an exceptional statusevolutionary suicide, religion demanding that religion be worshiped. It is bound to be difficult to face that somebody close is of tentative potential, but to do otherwise is as unbecoming as taking delight in knowing that the violent and arrogant are hurtling toward a world of hurt, be they family or not. Most medical researchers don't expend emotional energy hating the diseases they combat and an environmentalist can have a holistic but strictly intellectual view of things. Some humans are in a situation of knowing next to nothing about the outside world and efforts might be made, in an intellectual holistic service to the undertaking, to make the isolated aware that there is genuine esoteric knowledge in the world, that anybody can approach. The problem is that the medicine is very strong, guaranteed disruptive, non-negotiating, unapologetic and bound to be emotionally denounced by the mindset that likes things the way they are. Modern media technology has created a pipeline into primitive cultures allowing the collective youth to know what the quasi-free world has to offer, but bogus concocted religion demands that they hate the outside world and freedom.Some cultures elevate the concept of domestic family honor to a level where theneighbours can and do demand that another family commit infanticide, and the neighbours are obeyed. Phenomena such as severe patriarchal attitudes, perverse concocted notions of family honor, blood feuds, these cross religious lines but sometimes are mixed with local dogma creating an especially toxic and superstitious stew. When it comes to protecting temporal religious dogma, many would quick strangle their own mothers. Nothing exposes, glorifies, underpins, and works to justify the worst of human indolence, insecurity, crony dependence, cowardice, and violence as conveniently concocted and corruptly cultivated organized religion, and if it reaches a critical mass within a commons, virtually all the human grains of sand accept pure satanic crap as correct, essentially atrophy and die, and collectively rot.Within the limited there is a constellation of dynamics that manifests as somearrogance in all people, but nothing else can be turned so completely into a virtuous prize when allowed to reproduce in the group psyche commons as an organized religion. The compound dynamic phenomena of tempting arrogance, mixed with the panic of being but potential, thus of questionable validity, of a tentative reality is extraordinarily corrosive because of its' immediate effects on critical debate, and intellectual dissent. It is an extremely bizarre aspect of a hazardous universe that a single individual can compose from whole cloth a large or small, simple or complex, definition for reality and successfully have it become cannon law, for an entire temporal religion, but it happens and can effect billions over generations. Doubt the concoction is to doubt divinity and if leading authorities accept it, the demand of followers to choose sides is called a matter of salvation. Apostates are to be murdered by the commons like some burnt offering on an alter and those that excel at intolerance are to be celebrated as some example of perverse purity. If a single member of the labeled theocratic group psyche has ever been offended by a single nonmember, a multi-headed-hydra-psyche, demands that members must carry, cultivate and even love a thirst for revenge, nurture, embroider and groom a grudge, as if it were some wonderful holy gift. Aggressive proselytizing sanctions war, generates what are immediately called glorious martyrs and any brothers lost or left scarred by the violence are valuable, gold-plated, red herrings, held up as justification for calling the free thinking external enemy, immoral, unholy, infidels. Current events has featured people escaping standard criminal despots only to end up ruled by the much worse, those that invent a definition of reality as they go, fake gods. Grand, so-called religious dogma and rules, the invention of humans, are called holy and the rest of world is fully expected to bow down in compliance or risk greater intolerant contrast, hate and violence. Making and keeping peace is denounced as integration, diluting, betrayal, treason, while a hermetic sealing, psychological incest is hailed as a noble, holy service to the labeled theological group psyche. When a major hard-line, theological construct has a major sectarian divide, perhaps based on some disputed literal genealogical lineage, the levels of hypocritical nonsense become really breathtaking. Both sides accuse the other of fraternizing with the enemy just by disagreeing and living on earth, and of course that opportunistic gem ' the enemy of my enemy is my friend'. Both sides of the sectarian divide insist that their

martyrs are genuine and the other side not, but never discuss the obvious fact that these nonsense assertions might cancel one and other out. No matter how intense the friction of sectarian division, all members of the whole group psyche maintain that those of theoutside free-thinking world, believe nothing at all, are somehow vacant, must all be unbelievers. The outside world is left to deal with a shifting sandbar of so-calledindividuals that have been conditioned to alternate between speaking for all of the group in defense of criticism, denouncing some of the group as disingenuous when convenient and of course speaking for God as far as their assumption of validity and preferential particularity is concerned. If people in general anywhere were asked if they think, feel, believe or are certain that there is a single intelligent source to the human situation and some method by which a planet is reaped, many would reply in the affirmative and if asked if this single source can do anything, many if not all would insist yes. If it were suggested that in the crunch, in the end, omnipotence furnished only a explanation of the maze that must be navigated, the higher physics that must be dealt with and that it was up to individuals, all by their lonesome to do conscious labor so as to actualize potential, some would accept this. Those that are in chargeof the most elaborate and entrenched traditions of mixing theology, politics andhands on governance might be the least likely to warm to such a situation, preferring to offload responsibility by routinely saying it is 'god willing' if any evolve or do anything for that matter. Some would insist on continuing to underpin their ownsense of validity by screaming that they, claiming to be an extension of divinity, and definitely not individuals or the masses, know what is right. The perverse theocracy craves validity in obedient numbers and prisoners that cannot say what they really think are counted as being in full agreement, all under the threat of being declared an apostate and put to death. In a standard terrestrial mafia, members must balance between fearful respect for and a perverse brotherhood with the other wise-guys and as a clan what they all have in common is criminality and the implications of trying to leave. In the theocratic mafia it is invented that the clan is an extension of divinity as a whole, or in its' parts and that apostates must be murdered because god wants them dead. Perhaps, everybody must face explained revelation alone, much of it bad news and the machinery of planetary reaping means that only an apostate has any chance of evolving, which in turn means that the rules of the mafia insist that every member of the clan must kill every other member. Spontaneous combustion is of heat generated by chemical interaction, requiring no exterior source of ignition and when this bomb goes off it will destroy the components, builders, and designers. There is no endless, blissful cotton-candy paradise afterlife and those caught in a violent, theocratic mafia will burn alive more due to indolent assumption than usurpation of thee Throne, because any can sit and must sit where the Will of Creation does, such are the responsibilities of the unlimited. In the long run, the nested realities of Milk-run and Express gives the only work, delivers the pay of challenging experience and simultaneously provides both of them wherever the hell the sentient living happen to be; always has, does so in the here and now and always will. Those on The Express see and do it all, and on the Milk-run the essential bit of a human, which has being before physical conception, for some reason wants a new set of initials from the hostvehicle, perhaps as food or as a lubricant or some other form of maintenance. The brutal reality is that the Milk-run is a staged production for the purposes of passengers on The Express, undertaking yield is a secondary afterthought, autilitarian distillation, and The Express carries the players in a strange and extremeform of performance art. It is living the sensation of movement through time,demonstrating that birth and death are nails through the wrists of those alive in the long run. It demonstrates that the 'other', the not I, shares in all things, including the ken, the sinking, the nadir, the rising; that these lines intersect behind every eye, watching change whilst knowing that viewed from a point removed, it has always been this way and will always be this way. It is understandable that some humans be horribly offended to hear that their essence is a utilitarian recording device looking for a set of initials, to live in a generic, no name brand reality and the sensation of being an independent, autonomous, individual, identity is discarded like any other husk. Discarded by way of the machinery of planetary

reaping , by a mysterious husbandman with what turns out to be rather strange and 'selfish' motives. The framework reality of The Express is a relentless steamroller, but not in the sense of top down authority, rather an open door to those willing to work. Don't panic, but there is someone standing right behind you, and this ones' gaze is going to bore holes through your head, leaving you either dealing with this ones' present moment or, just leaving you. It is somehow ironic that a professional atheist might ask why or why not a single intelligent source to everything might do or not do something, referring to being yet denying that it be, but the line of inquiry would be legitimate if it turned out that no one ever gets the big answers. A dedicated atheist is either hostile to the concept of perceiving anything at all, or fears failure resulting in some sort of salty, thirsty hell, or has an issue of ego, repelled by notions of obedience, hierarchy, the unexplainable miraculous, or is discouraged by some combination of the aforementioned. If there were a natural evolution into a leaderless perception in the unlimited, the atheist may be hostile to it because of the lack of an explanation, this viewed as and feeling like, hell. Hypothetically speaking, of the atheist, the agnostic, the lukewarm indifferent, the sincerely hopeful believer, and the arrogantly certain, it is last mentioned, the certain, that would be naturally destroyed because their stance tantamount to being god. If a genuine technical explanation of how planets are reaped were simply delivered to all of human consciousness, but not announced or immediately noticed it might lead to a revelation spring with some losing their fear of dictatorial despots and others seeing insidious dictatorial corruption they had not noticed before. Current events are demonstrating mass awakenings, screams for change but generally the only clear common denominators are that something smells bad and the future direction seems vague. No thinking human can fail to see the the major flavors of totalitarians, or the secular ideological, the theocratic, or fail to see that these rulers and those sympathetic are criminal, have no mandate, no validity, no independent scrutiny, and hold control through intimidation, which is violence. Of these big three recipes for painful retribution, the very worst is repressive, bogus, home-made, literalistic religion, which has always delivered evolutions most spectacular failures, most toxic persona, to the very worst suburbs of the spectrum's cosmological dead end nadir. Many end up convinced that maintaining the obedient cohesion of their group psyche is somehow holy, as if salvation depended on those around them being compliant to concocted rules, rather than facing ones own persona challenges. Some organized temporal religion degenerates into beauty contest personality cults, a mad race to the bottom as hypersensitive reactionary, radical, ridged, chip-on-shoulder resentful, dogma called deity, repressive, and of course the primitive, mind numbing, learn by rote and parrot regurgitate. Whatever humans have that is considered to be esoteric art, the primary positive possibilities are what it might reveal about the perceptional technicalities of sentience unlimited and what is required to join it. These two, destination and trip, cleave in that success must see omniscience and remember how the hell the pilgrim got there. There is a 'place' where timeless top down authority meets and merges with grass-roots willingness to bear being part of the oscillating big bang breath. In the end, in the crunch, there is no declaration of a winner from among the multiple of temporal religions, with one being shown to right and the others found less so, or just wrong. A new 'church', the word church not meaning a building but a congregation, just lands whole and each and every dioceses has only one parishioner. Obviously, the words edifice and edification share etymological origins. From the evolutionary psychology point of view, humans in general have all have been booted out of Jerusalem, and if wish to enter the new city, the generic cannons of reality must be addressed. Like it not, accept it or not, The Express has shown up in the corner of every eye and the implications are way beyond immense, they are absolutely Apocalyptic. The humans atop or sympathetic to the totalitarian constructs of organized big money or secular ideological repression or standard criminal dictator despots or toxic judgmental theocracies may not see jail in this world but are all facing a trial, a punitive sentence and it is possible to measure the distance that all have to fall. Within the quasi-free world many of those that govern are both lawyers and wealthy, holding the levers of power and personally affectedby their own actions. Current events have exposed some of these governing legalprofessionals, moneyed or not, as guilty at the very least of failure to perform due diligence

and clearly serving the interests of those that do not conceal their contempt for any debate about inequality within the commons. Totalitarian, organized big money has been clearly shown criminal, having concocted evil esoteric economic trash compacting investment instruments simply to skim commissions from electronic transactions of electronic wealth, which in the long run, is a commodity they will find difficult to eat. There is a constellation cluster of psychological dynamics that tempts toward arrogance, allowed free run it builds into a sludge, hitting a critical mass it is animated by a transitory, temporal little mind which immediately insists first and foremost that the enemy be viewed as being without, precisely because that is where He is not. Turns out being easier to grasp The Devil than The Intent behind The Will of Creation. Between the Milk-run and The Express there lays a gang plank that could becalled the universal commons and one thing certain, to attempt to evolve the patient must choose to cross, choose to do what is required to cross, and choose to carry the weight of the Broader Present Moment, seeing and doing it all. This may involve deciding who and or what the patient is more afraid of, and decide you must, alone, supported only by the hope that there is meaning, and that you are not attempting what can not be done, like trying to lift a board that you are standing on. Grand social experiments such as communism, a free market economy and theocratic rule always degenerate into being dead from the neck up and the body corrupt because of human frailty and the relationship of so-called individuals with the commons. We speak now of higher physics and a point in watch spring animation, in linear time, where the dynamic of the absence of immediacy, dissolves. If every time you walked into a restaurant you were hit in the face with a plate of food, you might decide try learning to cook for yourself. It is not necessary travel, to see hell; the dead end of cosmological spectrum backs up into the ephemeral small ' c' consciousness of the human situation, the universe delivers. Express consumes Milk-run. In a sincere attempt to cross over, every step, awareness of what is ahead, behind, above, below, right and left must be juggled and the plank is the universal commons, is real life, is perception unlimited, is the broader present moment, is the window through which all view their subjectively colored sensation of other and manage their presentation, of being other, to others. Any human can argue a distaste for the imagery of a stick running through their head, in one ear and out the other, the sticks' ends being birth and death, both physical and the sequentially reversed metaphoric. Perhaps equallyuncomfortable, another line transits the noggin intersecting the first at right angles, protruding from between the eyes representing the sensation of being an observer vs. that which is other, or not I. With or without these imagery tools, no sane human can dispute that these factors are a part of their situation. It is being suggested that where these lines intersect is real life. A drinking cup has a primary design purpose, its' reason to be in surrounding the void, which can be filled and drained in cycle. The material cup is limited; chose. This rambling exegesis is an attempt to examine the source of the present phenomena that has arisen in the quasi-free world called Occupy Wall Street. Different flavors of the criminal totalitarian can be and are nested together, making contrast and similarity the best tools available for an attempt to seeand understand their parts and dynamics. On the one hand there are purely temporal secular matters, international affairs, security, trade etc. and on the other hand the concepts of a single intelligent source to everything, a possible evolution into extended experience within a broader present moment, or, for a thrift of words, 'netherworld' matters. Obviously there are many humans that often, effortlessly and opportunistically mix mundane temporal issues with netherworld affairs, but for the sake of our mentation let us employ a strict divide. It matters not if it be communism or a concocted theocracy, they are both totalitarian, both a group psyche of individuals making no attempt to hide or dispute that they have no mandate validity, endure no scrutiny and rule through intimidation, imprisonment, torture and murder. Those in charge and any sympathetic do not dispute that they are panic afflicted serial killers and that if there were a temporal definition for conscience, they have none. The global financial capital market no longer qualifies as a business, in that it extracts real wealth from those that do real work, producing itself only the digital extortion. The third leg of sometimes

nested criminal totalitarians is quasi-free worldhigh finance, which in turn can be viewed as a triad. If the global money system were a game of monopoly; a handful of players won, they've no interest in folding the board, and they cheated. They are the criminal part of high finance (deregulation), the criminal part of big business (lobbying) and the criminal part of big government (they are being paid to let it all happen). Another disjointed bit of the Book of Revelation speaks of temporal human judges and their role in the final triad of histories' last totalitarian monsters.

POTENTIALITY ROBOTICUSIF THE SHOE FITS YOU MADE A SHOE In a fluffy Stellar Cloud, in a far away Galaxy, there does burn a spectrum hued and blindingly bright Sun; pivotal anchor to a system of twelve life seeded and supporting, life reproducing and distilling planets. On all three of the mortality-cognizant, creature populated planets in this solar undertaking, the dominant apparatus of transformation, and or transmutation is the intentionally tainted and experience tried biped species of distillation called Potentiality Roboticus, or PR ; for whom of course, the evolutionary possibilities and the stakes are the greatest. As is the case with any living, breathing solar undertaking anywhere in The Limited Material Universe, this spinning system is of a dynamic design, intentionally created to continuously sift and sort the courser and more common substances from the finer and rarer suprasubstantialem, the natural from the 'supernatural' (for lack of a better word), the physical from the 'metaphysical' (for lack of a better word), the conditioned phenomenal from the underlying motive meaning of it, to slowly and tediously, to painfully and purposefully, produce a process purified yield for the creations' eternally static, yet constantly coming and going, endlessly farming, absentee landlord, The Ultimate Consumer. As in any such PR populated project, the solely subjectively motivated, challenge of perception interested and determined, claw their way toward the systems' center, and those hostile to the evolutionary rigors of cathartic transformation, atrophy and degenerate into the unorganized metaphoric outer-darkness dust of failed PR evolution. Naturally, all the planets in the system are falling from their orbit, but a collection of complex conspiratorial technicalities made this solar undertaking, one in a billion. Early on in the slow organization of the Galactic disk, a massive meandering lump of pure molten Criptanite collided with an unsuspecting Brown Dwarf Body comprised of, as they say, 'only God knows what'. The resulting fusion alloy stabilized, and had the necessary properties to attract the vast amounts of hydrogen needed to grow to a body of star size class. These and other interacting parameters made this proto-star and its' resulting planetary system comparatively rare, especially the fact that the initial gravitational pull of this growing proto-sun was nearly a hundred times the strength of most other such bodies anywhere, whether being anchor to a system of planets or not. All of the planets that formed in system orbit had a core of molten iron, but early debris collisions sent arriving ferrous metals to those molten anchors. As the planets cooled, later impacts with asteroids, meteors and small moons createdthe usual collision 'dust-ups', but the extraordinary gravitational pull of the systems' center, robbed the planets of most ferrous debris shaken up and loose. As is the case with any solar undertaking, the Galactic Time came for local solar time to begin, and a unionized emissary of The Ultimate Consumer arrived, with all of his pyrotechnicequipment, to perform primary ignition of the star. The shock-wave of the sparked blast, increased the orbital diameter of all the planets in the system by between three and seven hundred percent, depending on their original location and compound composition volume. Some of the unfortunate inner planets wound up flash marbleized, scorch converted into massive glass beads, and one uniquely vulnerablemid-range world was violently knocked ass-over-teakettle; it continued to turn on its' axis, but was somehow shock perturbed into tumbling pole over pole as well, and even more bizarre, was ricocheted into orbiting the newly lit star at near right-angles to most of the other satellite bodies in the system. No less than nine moons actuallychanged their focal anchor, summarily blown from one planet body to another. Much later, in normal cooling process, the non-gaseous planets solidified a surface crust, but due to earlier developmental circumstances these were highly non-ferrous, predominantly lead, silica, copper and gold plated worlds; exposed iron comparatively rare. Eventually surface tension cracking gave rise to plate tectonics, volcanicactivity, concentrations of hydrogen hydroxide (water), the capture of composition atmosphere, and weather. The unusual, blistering gravitational pull of the systems' new-lit Sun made for some horribly traumatized planets. Massive ferrous metal meteors, if not in orbit or

moving out of the system were mercilessly sucked towards the focal solar anchor, and if a planet got in the way, it would get smacked, giving it a fresh, ferrous metal zit. Some planets developed very long volcanic mountain ranges, more densely concentrated on one side of the body than the other. Towering columns of highly ferrous ejecta would drastically effect a planets' rotation, and settled concentrations of iron play a role in its' cyclic seasons. Slowly distinguished, higherferrous concentrate continents were dragged about on an invisible leash and occasionally even be pancaked atop less susceptible ones. Some captured moons presented one side only to their host anchor planet and this of course affected their subsequent shot shower plating. To further complicate matters, the densest and heaviest ferrous metal cored planet in the system is a cyclic rough, having a giganticelliptical orbit, periodically bringing it in and out of the system. Like the ass-over-teakettle planet called Gyro, the rough planet named Thunderbird would, when passing near another body, set up gravitational stresses, irritating moons, affecting axial rotations, orbits, and consequently would on occasion lottery the risk of a violent catastrophic collision. The systems' excelled orbital decay and the complicated probability percentages involved, make this solar undertaking a near to cup-a-chaos, living fast, wild and in constant danger of sending itself back into a more primitive, dusty and disorganized time. Like clockwork machinery, every two thousand years the rough planet Thunderbird will show up passing between the orbital paths of the third planet from the Sun, called Dirt, and the systems' fourth world out, named La Rouge. Either side of the Sun, the orbit of the strange, and also extremely dense, right-angular planet Gyro, passes between the orbital paths of planet Dirt and the second outer most world named De Milo. More than once the Sun ate one of its' children, consuming a glass bead planet like a pill, and the rouge planet Thunderbird at one time had a moon, but, no more. Due to the extraordinarily severe gravitational pull of the solar anchor, all of the moons moving about any of the planets have slightly elliptical orbits, varying from inner to outer worlds and depending on the compositioncomponent ferrous metals present in the satellite and its' host anchor. Among most of the mortality-cognizant PR that eventually showed up on planet Dirt, tracking, recording and trying to predict ocean tides is considered a pseudo-mystic, navel-gazing waste of time and energy. During its' first historically, half accurately documented visit, the planet Thunderbird suffered a performance confluence of fatefulperturbations; a constellation of criterion, conspired through inevitable conjunctions, oppositions, and planetary and galactic near misses, to send its' one moon into a deflationary death spiral. Due to its' broad visitation frequency, the recorded realities and tales of planet Thunderbird are passed down from generation to generation among some PR, including how it had eaten its' moon. The PR entities toiling on the planetsLa Rouge and De Milo are outside of the visual spectrum range of the Potentiality Roboticus that are a part of the blue-green scum on the face of planet Dirt, and, like the very existence of the entire planet Gyro, are completely unknown to them. The essential potential part of all PR have their system-local-storage origins in what iscalled The Pool, which of course is located on the undertakings' outer most orbiting planetary body called Goofy. The Pool is divided into three levels; the lower exoteric, the mid-range mesoteric, and the upper level esoteric, and all of the essential potential ' promise' parts of the PR on Dirt have been coming and going from The Pool since their Intent introduction to the system. This, by the way, is why a newbornbouncing baby biped apparatus of transformation showing up on the planet Dirt will, coming straight-out-of-Goofy, sometimes uncontrollably gurgle and laugh. The grains of essential potential promise stored in The Pool are beyond the classifications of natural and supernatural, of the literal ferrous or non-ferrous and thus not attracted to the voracious solar anchor nor in danger of hurtling off away from it. They hold their position relative to the material components of the solar system under and or aided by the intentionally concocted and sustained evolutionary dynamic; the Law of the Limited called ( if-capable-of-being-a-bloody-nuisance-and-not-be-struck-by-lighting-must-be-alive-and-a-legitimate-player-in-the-

universe ). This calming, medicating sensation of validity due to lack of immediacy, serves to protect the developing essential potential from cognizance of the cyclic terror of Real Life in The Unlimited, and thus curb the inevitable attraction to and tendency towards chronic repeated suicide. In strictly etymological terms a newborn PR, on Dirt, successfully slapped into respiration is not a person, because it has no acquired, imitation and education electroplated sense of self, no sensation of I and not I, subject and object, and thus no attachment reactive, pseudo-identity, persona; no robot mask. The acquisition and volitional decommissioning of the roboticus-psychosis is a utilitarian process ofdistillation development, integral to the undertakings' maturing, before its' final yield production and death. Successful actualization of essential potential requires taking possession of a higher being vehicle capable of penetrating the corona fury of the Sun to reach the location of zero volume at its' center; metaphorically speaking of course.Due to the Universal Law of Mirror Reversal the meta-physic material needed to congeal a higher being vehicle is meta-anti-ferrous and thus constantly repelled by the system center anchor, requiring essential potential interested in successfully evolving to, of volition, collect, conserve, concentrate and attentively backup, the necessary vehicle molecules required to overcome the paranormal repulsing of the Sun. Among some of the PR on planet Dirt there is held an old proverb connected with the rough planet Thunderbird that says, ' the road to life is narrow, uphill, and there are few that successfully get their meta-anti-ferrous shit together'. Having the capacity to grasp it, the instant that a PR biped on planet Dirt comprehends these basics is sometimes called, that Eureka Flash Turn, or more formally Metanoia. Seed money of The Pool, being neither attracted nor repelled by the solar anchor, or as is sometimes said sufficiently-snowed-to-stay, turns, toward what is called 'answering to the Galactic Sun' ; that is, excepts that essential potential is intentionally and for the purposes of development, incarcerated in a fragile, ephemeral, animated cadaver and given the opportunity to, in solitary, attract, collect and solidify the necessary meta-molecular materials for an evolutionary vehicle by way of, and being vivified by, the conscious labour of attentive introspection and thus move towards extended experience andlabour as part of thee broader present moment. Any solar anchor is a satellite of a Galactic Sun, any planetary body or captured debris, a satellite of the star, and any moon a satellite of a planet. These stringy tentacles of galactic, solar, planetary and lunar are everywhere and anywhere in The Limited Material Undertaking, and are the conduit for a number of extra-existential influences, quite different from the pedestrian stuff of light and gravity. Meddling evolutionary influences can and do travel these satellite chains but also can and do come from beyond Goofy, and be captured and redirected by specialized bodies such as Gyro, Thunderbird or the moon at the end of any cosmological tentacle. In this particular PR seeded solar undertaking, the intentional counter-evolutionary dynamics involved in the acquired, reactive, robot, persona cloak, or sense of self for any PR, are primarily entangled with the right-angular-orbit planet Gyro and the satellite moon of the planet Dirt called Vortex. This solar system is a satellite of the anchor point of zero volume at the center of its' Galaxy, having the somewhat baffling name, The Muddy Way, and is a satellite itself. Above the level of any Galactic Sun is the location of zero volume at the center of the entire, roughly spherical, Limited Material Universe, or, the one and only, Limited Sun, porthole to the Unlimited. Being a true point of zero volume, this pivotal quasi-existential anchor is somehow similar to any point, absolutely anywhere in Thee Unlimited, and is the spilling source of any evolution impacting influence, whether it travel down a cosmological chain, appear from beyond a tentacles' terminus, that is a planets' moon, or come from beyond Goofy. The Limited in general is intentionally designed and constructed to impede the possible actualization of essential potential, leaving almost everything up to the so-called individual grains of seed-money promise involved. The improving of existential conditions is to the advantage of the absentee landlord but the extra-existential maze could be said to help those that help themselves, only in that it is possible to transverse it, because The Universe asks not of any that which cannot be done. If a so-called individual, biped Potentiality Roboticus on planet Dirt thinks out and all-by-lonesome accepts the basic Cannons of Reality; that being born into one world requires dying to the previous one, that the repelling dynamics of the

undertaking are downstream from Intent, and ultimately neither be liked nor disliked and are struggled with not for reward but as Timeless Duty; strives to collect, conserve and concentrate the meta-materials required for a higher being vehicle for essential potential; constantly works to generate the compensation taxation, the anti-inertia 'stuff' of the strictly-subjective-vantage-centered and of volition sought, conscious awareness; then, and only then, does such a one have a ghost of a chance of evolving up the eternal cosmological challenge, and still, it's just a chance. The Essential Potential part, of a mortality-cognizant biped incarcerated in the corporeal vehicle on planet Dirt, comes from the exoteric level of The Pool situated on the outer most planet Goofy. If sincerely determined to actualize; about which the patient is the very last one capable of being certain, life is a volitional collecting of the meta-materials of a proto-vehicle resisting the repulsing of the solar anchor. When inevitability has the pilgrim cease breathing, the physical hide of course goes to ground, the essential potential part to the mesoteric level of The Pool, the attention coagulated proto-vehicle goes to the fourth world out La Rouge, and what is left of the acquired robot persona, to the planet Dirts' cosmological terminus, its' sucking satellite, the moon Vortex. Under so-called normal circumstances all of the birth, life, death, challenge and development occurring on the fourth world out, La Rouge is almost completely invisible to the lower level apparatus grazing on planet Dirt. The top two killers of essential potential are united by fear. Some dismiss the concept of a possible evolution into extended perception as childish superstition because at a subterranean level of their acquired robot state they know that it's all just work, and they have to go through and remember hell to get said work. Bogus assumption and sniping at external enemies kills the rest. Both essential potential and higher being vehicles, when migrating about the solar undertaking, normally carry with them absolutely no connecting identification with, or residual memory of, any previous sojourn episodes of development, or failure to actualize. When a higher being vehicle manifests on La Rouge it meets its' essential potential part from the mesoteric level of The Pool, and after a developmental sojourn, returns, but at the esoteric level; and of course, the reworked vehicle of higher being moves to the second world out De Milo, where the repulsing dynamic of the solar anchor is the greater. The discarded persona husks of La Rouge drop to the level of planet Dirt and the discarded impurities of De Milo to La Rouge. This of course, is why any robot persona sympathetic to doing violence in the name of any concocted label, has to share in paying for all of violence ever done by anybody in the name of any concocted label. Essential potential developing on De Milo works to affix-viability to its' host higher being vehicle; to successfully finish a lifeboat Ark capable of carrying actualized promise through the corona fury of the Sun and thus find the location of zero volume at its' central anchor core; so as to reach the solar airport and change planes. The toxic, discard debris, robot persona husks that cascade from planet Dirt are, in degeneration, sucked down the cosmological chain toward its' terminus; its' satellite moon Vortex, and stored in a solar heated dumpster oven called Hades. The lukewarm, indifferent, indolent, arrogant, violent, judgmental, idiot murderous, willful-whack, lie-loving, label-legitimizing, gender-biased and fantasy-validity-fabricating-and-perpetuating-false-martyrs that simmer in the dead-end dumpster stove are, considering where they are, sometimes called lunatic, and if viewed as one fabulously fowl, horrific, homogeneous load, are a collective negative pressure vacuum; a center of gravity working to attract all of the toxicity of all of the cosmological levels above. One of the substances that the biped apparatus of transformation PR on planet Dirt extract from their matrix blue-green scum, to power the volitional search for wakingawareness and to maintain-repair their tried animated cadavers is a sustaining complex compound consumable, sometimes called air. The feeding biped PR greedily lap the stuff up at all times of the day and night in a rhythmic cyclic manner; a utilitarian subsection manifestation of the expanding and contracting breath of The Limited. The composition molecules of this pneumatic sustenance, divided intomultiple elementary categories are found many places in the planets' matrix membrane and in air proportioned roughly seventy-nine percent, what is called nitrogen and nineteen percent, what is called oxygen. The remaining two percent is comprised of tiny trace amounts of rarer gaseous elements and, the atomized toxic discharge resulting from the cathartic

transmutation actualization occurring on, and discarded by, the upper level world La Rouge. A bouncing baby bit of newborn essential potential, having left The Pool to transform-a-feed, as a part of the nourishing matrix film on the face of planet Dirt, is not so much tempted towards having a doomed sensation of subject and object, as is sentenced to it, and all trials that from there flow. The descending impurities emanating from the volitional supra-transmutation purging occurring on the planet De Milo move, of course, downstream to try and trouble the essential potential, struggling to knit on the planet La Rouge. The essential potential, working to affix the molecules of a higher being vehicle on La Rouge do not breath the doomed descending toxins coming from above; they see them, and the ingesting of visual pollutants in the experience of perception is as much feeding as is breathing or chewing. The essential potential attempting their work of supra-transmutation on planet De Milo cook what they consume. There are myriad dynamics constantly working to try sabotage the hopes of actualization for Potentiality Roboticus, and precious little real help. Some PR abandon their promise, and accept being sucked down the drain having decided that survival must mean a humiliating surrender witnessed by others around them, others being of an equally tenuous reality as they, or have been conditioned to assume that it is their right or even duty to demand, as an equal, negotiations with the Laws of Physics, or the Laws of Planetary Developing and Reaping, or with The Sentient Meaning behind it all; or have been convinced to insist that they are automatically owed perception, limited or unlimited, or even that it is their duty to murder the dissident apostate, callingapostasy, an evil insult to their concocted fantasy of favour, fantasy of extraordinary authority, or just their transitory sensation of having will. All of this, of course, is, technically, purely opportunistic bull-shit; self-medicating, self-stroking, self-calming, attempted robot rescue, dumpster-degeneration-nonsense and a manifestation of what is sometimes called cowardice, and that might be called tragic if someone Alive in The Unlimited was actually required to give a fuzzy - rats' - butt. A spore in the environmental circumstances of ground and moisture dies to its' world, being born a truffle, a truffle dies to its' world in fusion with the pig, the pig leaves its' world for bacon-hood and by way of a process called a BLT is reborn into the world of the PR.Potentiality Roboticus likes claiming the top of the food chain; so much so that most stick their heads in the sand, a little bit of role playing in the world of the ostrich. PR, all-by-lonesome , must choose to die to their ephemeral sensation of validity to be born into The Real Thing. This is not fatalistic or morbid; it is 'turning' to face the fact that the potential promise part of PR is at the bottom of the food chain of validity in the Unlimited, and the toxic little mind of the acquired robot persona is being mercilessly dragged down the drain by the negative vacuum of the growing lunatic load at the cosmological tentacles 'dead end', and will eventually land down there whether found in a state of decommissioning decline or not. The moisture that triggered the truffle spore has moved a long way to play a role in PR mentation, and that is a long Way below the level of the Solar Interstellar Airport, and that, a long, long Way below The Muddy Ways' pivot anchor, The Gabriel Galactic Aerodrome, and that a long, long, long Way downstream from the level of the Limited Intergalactic Porthole. If there is the slightest whiff, of a hint, of the suggestion that any Potentiality Roboticus, anywhere in The Limited Material Universe, is somehow owed perception in The Unlimited, such, are having the life sucked out of them by a lunatic dead-end dumpster near by. In the words of the surly, butt-scratching, unionized pyrotechnic emissary that originally sparked planet Dirt's peculiar solar anchor( for- the- love- of- great-merciful- crap- face-where-the- hell- you- are ).Traveling trillions upon trillions of light years beyond the outer most edge of The Limited Material Existential Universe, in just about any old direction you like, you will come upon a rock that looks like a fish. Turn left. Carry on until you come to a fish that looks like a rock, and turn right. And there ya go! It is clearly a 'world' that is, and has always been, and will always be, turned inside out. This explains that pesky Universal Law of Mirror Reversal. This World clearly displays a spherical aspect but also has eight distinct corner shaped protrusions; a fused amalgam of sphere and cube of equal volumes. Both opaque and translucent but strangely void of spectrum colours, no pure black or white but an infinite variety of grays. The

sphere, at the very least, must represent the circle of life, as fluffy and saccharine as that may sound, and it has an inside and out or basic dualistic nature. The square face on all six sides of the cube must represent the tetradic porthole of The Limited Sun. That explains the square window cut into the building on the upper deck of Noah's Ark. You would think Headquarters to The Family Firm be a little jazzier and without this mixed odour of roses and blue cheese. And the sign says: Know thyself, and nothing to much. It is obvious why the meta - physic molecules of a vehicle for essential potential promise are repulsed by every level of focal anchor; the unmistakable scent of boredom.