This Is 4-D

th Isis 4-D

In the image above, there are a few elements that pop out to me. I'll make this quick. Leslie MANN is seen at the Sync with a Thoth-brush while Paul Rudd is in the background on a waterdoor throne with a (emerald) Tablet-type computer. The ISIS in the title sticks out like a sore thumb. So we have Thoth and Isis (both lunar deities) at corresponding water portals (water, of course, being associated with the moon through the tides). The poster has a very Lunar color scheme, consisting mostly of shades of gray. The 40/4D lends extradimensional (godlike) qualities to the whole thing. Now, add to that the reflective, lunar aspect of the Mirror which composes the majority of the picture.

We could also see a relation to the Moon tarot card, with the twin Dogs as being Leslie and her reflection, and Paul as the crayfish emerging from the water (and the mirror as the moon of course). The towers from the card could be seen as the two doors visible in the poster.

I'd also like to add that the Canines in the Moon tarot correspond to the Canines in Leslie's mouth, her teeth highlighted by the thoth brush.

"How many heads do you have?"

This here is an excerpt from chapter 5 of Robert Anton Wilson's excellent book "Quantum Psychology". Posted here because it really hurts my brain and I'm hoping transcribing it will bring a sense of clarity. I am in the midst of quitting my nicotine addiction for what must be the 10th time and I'm working out a few kinks. I tend to blog alot whilst in this mode of thought. On to the excerpt:

-----------------------


"Borrowing a joke (or a profundity?) from Bertrand Russell's Our Knowledge of the External World, I will now demonstrate the reader has two heads.

According to common sense, and the consensus of most (occidental) philosophers, we exist "inside" an "objective universe", or - to say it otherwise - the "objective universe" exists "outside" us.

Very few people have ever doubted this. Those who have doubted it have arrived, inevitably, at highly eccentric conclusions.

Well, then, avoiding eccentricity and and accepting the conventional view, how do we know anything about that "external universe"? How do we perceive it?

(For convenience, I will consider only the sense of sight in what follows. The reader can check for himself, or herself, that the same logic applies if one changes the terms and substitutes hearing or any of our other senses.)

We see objects in the "external universe" through our eyes and then make pictures - models - of them in our brains. The brain "interprets" what the eyes transmit as energy signals. (For now, we will ignore the data that shows that the brain makes a gamble that it can interpret these signals.)

Again, very few Occidentals have doubted this, and those who doubted it all arrived at strange and incredible alternatives.

So, then, we live "inside" an "external universe" and make a picture or model of it "inside" our brains, by adding together, or synthesizing, and interpreting, our pictures or models of parts of the universe called "objects". Then, it follows that we never know the "external universe" and its "objects" at all. We know the model of the "external universe" inside our brains, which exist inside our heads.

But we have not arrived at Solipsism, remember. We still assume the "external universe" from which we started. We have merely discovered that we cannot see it or know it. We see a model of it inside our heads, and in daily life forget this and act as if the model exists outside our heads - i.e, as if (1) the model and the universe occupy the same area of space (as our map that tries to show "all" about Dublin would occupy the same space as Dublin) and (2) that this space exists "outside".

But the model and the universe do not occupy the same space and the space where the model exists can only be located "inside" our brains, which exist inside our heads.

We now realize that, while the universe exists outside, the model exists inside, and therefore occupies much, much less space than the universe.

The "real universe" then exists "outside" but remains unexperienced, perhaps unknown. That which we do experience or know (or think we know) exists in local networks of electrochemical bonds in our brains.

Again, if the reader cares to challenge any part of this, she or he should certainly try to imagine an alternative explanation of perception. It will appear, or it has always appeared to date, that any and all such alternatives sound not only queerer than this but totally unbelievable to "people of common sense".

Well, to proceed, we now have an "external universe", very large (comparatively speaking) and a model of same, much smaller (comparatively speaking), the former "outside" us and the latter "inside" us. Of course, some correspondence or isomorphism exists between the "external" and "internal" universes. Otherwise, I could not get up from my chair, walk to the door, go down the hall and accurately locate the kitchen to get another cup of coffee from something I identify as Coffee Maker.

But where does our head exist?

Well, our head obviously exists "inside" the "external universe" and "outside" our brain which contains the model of the "external universe". (This is where my brain starts to melt - Tommy) 

But since we never see or experience the "external universe" directly, and only see our model of it, we only perceive our head as part of the model, which exists inside us. Certainly, our perceived head cannot exist apart from our perceived body as long as we remain alive, and our perceived body (including head) exists inside our perceived universe. Right?

Thus, the head we perceive exists inside some other head we do not, and cannot, perceive. The second head contains our model of the universe, our model of this galaxy, our model of this solar system, our model of Earth, our model of this continent, our model of this city, our model of our home, our model of ourselves and atop our model of ourselves a model of our head. The model of our head thus occupies much less space than our "real" head. 

Think about it. Retire to your study, unplug the phone, lock the door and carefully examine each step of this argument in succession, noting what absurdities appear if you question any individual step and try an alternative.

Let us, for Jesus sake and for all our sakes, at least attempt to clarify how we can have two heads. Our perceived head exists as part (a very small part) of our model of the universe, which exists inside our brain. We have already proven that, have we not? Our brain, however, exists inside our second head - our "real" head, which contains our whole model of the universe, including our perceived head. In short, our perceived head exists inside our perceived universe which exists inside our real head which exists inside the real universe.

Thus, we can name our two heads - we have a "real" head outside the perceived universe and a "perceived head" inside the perceived universe, and our "real" head now appears, not only much bigger than our perceived head, but bigger than our perceived universe. 

And, since we cannot know or perceive the "real" universe directly, our "real" head appears bigger than the only universe we do know and perceive - our perceived universe, inside our perceived head.

The reader might find some comfort in the thought that Bertrand Russell, who devised this argument, also invented the mathematical class of all classes that "do not contain themselves". That class, you will note, does not contain itself unless it does contain itself. Also, it does contain itself if and only if it does not contain itself. Got it?

When not busy crusading for rationalism, world peace, common decency and other subversive ideas, Russell spent a lot of time in the even more subversive practice of inventing such logical "monsters" to bedevil logicians and mathematicians.

Returning to our two heads: Lord Russell never carried this joke, or this profound insight, beyond that point. With a little thought, however, the reader will easily see that, having analyzed the matter this far, we now have three heads - the third containing the model that contains the "real" universe and the "real" head and the perceived universe and the perceived head. And now that we have thought of that, we have a fourth head...

And so on, ad infinitum. To account for our perception of our perception - our ability to perceive that we perceive - we have three heads, and to account for that four heads, and for our ability to carry this analysis onward forever, we have infinite heads...

A model of consciousness which does arrive, very rigorously and with almost mathematical precision of logic, at precisely this infinite regress appears in The Serial Universe by J.W. Dunne, who uses time instead of perception as his first term but still arrives at the conclusion that we have, if not an infinite series of  heads, an infinite series of "minds".

Like the Zen teacher, I have just led you to the door of the Law and slammed it in your face. But wait. We will eventually discern "light at the end of the tunnel." If we can only open that damned door...

Alfred Korzybski, mentioned here several times (and a strong influence even when not mentioned), urged that our thinking could become more scientific if we used mathematical subscripts more often.

Thinking about this one day, I came up with the following analog of Dunne's argument without even using his infinite time dimensions:

I observe that I have a mind. Following Korzybski, let us call this observed mind, mind1.

But I observe that I have a mind that can observe mind1. Let us call this self-observing mind, mind2.

Mind2 which observes mind1 can in turn become the object of observation. (A little experience in Buddhist self-observation will confirm this experimentally.) The observer of mind2 then requires its own name, so we call it mind3.

And so on... To infinity, once again.

Of course, having mentioned Buddhism, I might in fairness add that the Buddhist would not accept "I observe that I have a mind." The Buddhist would say "I observe that I have a tendency to posit a mind.".

But that, perhaps, allows the felix domesticus to escape the gunnysack, as Mr. Fields would say."

God

is a machine building the stairs to nowhere you climb while the steps behind you crumble into the abyss below

So I was on 42 Minutes...

42 Minutes with your hosts Doug Bolles and Tommy Fulks, speaking with guest David Plate (AKA Dvd Platypus)

Today I was to fill in for Will of The Sync Whole and A Few Shots to Shaman sync blogs, starting our recording at 11:11 am this morning and speaking with the author of this fine blog. I thought I'd recount a strange dream I had.



A Night of Horror . . .

It all began yesterday as I initiated my midday nap. Having no stimulant drugs to propel me into unnatural excitement, I require naps throughout the day. As I entered the REM state, I envisioned flying along a dark road. Becoming lucid, I soared up into the sky into a dense fog. Everything goes fuzzy after this. After a couple of meaningless dreams, I become semi-lucid again. I walked from a rear-entryway into a strange looking white house. It reminded me of one of the model houses from Beetlejuice, everything had a strange artificial quality, almost like those pictures of haunted dolls that carry their unsettling ambiance. Entering the house I notice something strange. The house was like the TARDIS, it looked small on the outside but inside was much larger. Dark hallways with that odd, foggy sunlight common in dreams pouring in. A voice-over narration was saying some things about the house before informing me that it was haunted. The atmosphere was very much like several nightmarish astral projections I've had, where there is chaos within and without, terror behind every movement, dull, unassuming environments painted with dread. It's like being caught within a rift between worlds and having no idea of where to go or what to do but you do things anyway. So I began trying to find a way out of this evil house, but every doorway led to some interdimensional horror - every room seemed to be a portal to a bizarre, violent landscape. This is once again similar to Beetlejuice where there are doors that lead to where they store lost souls, and doors that lead to vast deserts of Saturn housing gargantuan sandworms. Eventually I found two nerdy-looking guys in a room who told me they were paranormal investigators. The next thing I remember, I am on a bed and we are recording the bedspread moving on its own. We review the footage and some sort of entity makes itself clear and it seems to have been acting through the two men as they are apparitions themselves, they disappear in the blink of an eye. There are strange winds blowing through the core of my being and I'm trying to find my way out of this place, but there are no exits, just pathways to strange, totally unnerving realities. I find a window, and outside there is a pool filled with dark blue water. The house seems to be situated on a tiny island floating on a sea of deep purple mist. I break out of the window and land in the pool. I know I have landed partially on land but there is no pain here. Before I am able to exit the pool, something drags me down into the water. I remember at this point as I am powerless to free myself seeing a translucent superimposed image of a Cthulhu-like tentacle-mouthed being standing facing me. He is wearing some sort of Victorian-era clothing, with a top hat and a cane. In the same "superimposed" fashion I begin seeing credits start to roll, as if this were all just some sort of TV show. Blackness, awakening.

Transcendental Key 6/4 (meat on the bone)

Today's key: "It's all in your head". Meaning your signature is found in everything you have ever experienced, everything you have collected about how the world works and what has happened is of your own device, of your own process. We have no knowledge of what's outside of our own mental interactions until we transcend the egoic mind and the application of arbitrary, mechanical association.

What does this mean to me? It means there is near-infinite space for expansion, it means there is nearly no limit to what we are capable of learning in this moment as it is sucked into the future. It also means that we are constantly connected to some-nothing that we have no way of immediately perceiving - I believe it acts as an analog to our sense-array, it is the non-being in reference to our being, so to say. A Logos of sorts. Like I said, these keys that I receive/create are like gear-teeth catching notches of problematic conundrums. As soon as that connection is made, it's time for another mystery. This great non-being seems to be the source of all mystery itself, a black hole from which no information escapes. I wonder if that is what I am, experiencing Being in order to create an infinite God with which to feed myself eternally.

In the throes of desperation and confusion one becomes aware of locks chaining them to anchors made of pain. The discovery of these locks is essential to discovery of the self. The keys that one receives during transcendental states hold no purpose without a matching lock. The crests and valleys of space-time unfolding are spiraling revelatory vortices, each dip into the pool of absolute inner chaos observed by the self to see all of itself. They are states to be understood, not feared.

masks guard the key

Seek the locks and the keys shall be received.

And if you ever disagree with me, you're wrong and you're going to hell.

Time-Mirror Reflections and "Keys"

"A virus is a small infectious agent that can replicate only inside the living cells of an organism."

Everything has its fractal resonator. As we have viruses, parasites, and mosquitoes, in the macro realm we have psychopaths, "demons", archons, whatever you want to call them.

I realize that these destructive forces are essential to our process of transformation. There can be no optimization without evaporation of those forms which lock us into cycles of negative feedback. I am being shown a mirror of sorts in this realization. I am being shown these things are a part of my being, those which I must be aware of to properly proceed in evolving my mind to improve connection with creative dimensions.

Today went a lot better than the past few days. I went to bed at 5 in the morning and slept for 12 hours, making up for all the sleep I lost during the initial withdrawal. Not having a job or any people I have no choice but to interact with regularly has its benefits sometimes. It might sound like I'm overexaggerating things a lot, but you can only refer to your model, and I can only refer to mine.

We are restricted to the expectations we have derived through our history, the patterns we have recorded and have assumed are correct interpretations of "cause and effect". The imagination is full immersion into the flux of the current (redundant?) moment, a transformative destruction of the historic paradigm, and it is of the same experiential fabric as anything else one can experience and is therefore as valid an experience as one's physical reality.

We need not to try and "figure things out" as they happen in the physical world, this process runs entirely on its own and it is our job in this simulation (hot term at the moment), potential fractal-time recursion (endless loop), to program our death, to expand the lens of our perception to imagine ourselves fully into the fold of love itself. We have an infinite amount of perceptions available to us, like the holographic nature of language and its symbols constructing, deconstructing and evolving, and yet we rely on a small set of these perceptions to experience life through. Such is the nature of the inner bloodsucking perceptikon, the inner voice which tells us "that's not true, that's not valid, unacceptable", the scientist, the atheist, the christian, the culture morbidly obese on its own bovine waste. Everything is at once indeterminate, meaningless, false and true. In some sense. (thank you RAW)

I accept the presence of this entity, but it must accept that it depends upon me, and its own death is inevitable as is "mine". It dies with the death of my thoughts, and I know that I am more than my thoughts and my body. I perceive this fold, I am transcendent of their interactions. Enmeshed, I evolve through their interactions, I enact this simulation to untie knots. I am hunting in a fashion in which I become mock prey to attract the predators which I then destroy. (note: in what way do my actions in this sense differ from the above "perceptikon"? They are a similar program, but toward a different end. The goal of the perceptikon is to load viral programs into my hardware and turn me into a "zombie" feeding its creator, while my goal in this particular interaction is to act as a sort of hyperdimensional anti-virus software. Where its goal is strictly offensive, mine is defensive. It struck first, etc. It's a form of spiritual aikido.)

In other news, I have decided to post here the "temporary keys" which I receive during meditation, in order to stitch together a sort of pattern between them. They are usually one sentence only.

Yesterday's key was this: "Don't force anything". This key lasted me until today. Tomorrow its time-release cyanide pill will disperse and kill it entirely, its function having been used on its respective lock and its usefulness purged.

Recommended Reading - Quantum Psychology

Quantum Psychology by Robert Anton Wilson on Scribd


This is one of those books that totally caught me off guard and ended up changing my perspective in very good ways. It may blow a few fuses if you're not prepared, but it will most likely be a really fun and engaging read anyway. Easily my number 1 book. Ever.

To my reader(s?)

I must offer a genuine apology for my public display of pitiful hopelessness stretched over the past week or so. As you are probably sick of hearing about, I am in the midst of quitting both ingestion of caffeine and inhalation of carcinogenic smoke containing nicotine. It has affected me much more strongly than I had imagined it would. Last night I was completely immersed in fatigue, depression, hate, and just plain misery. I think I'm over the nicotine withdrawal but this whole quitting caffeine business is really taking a toll on me.

So, I will attempt to avoid posting things that no one could possibly care about. Even though this is my blog and no one else's, I find myself a little ashamed of the poor quality of my recent posts. At the time of contemplation or suffering I use this as a forum to vent my emotions, but perhaps it's just not the best idea, and revealing a side of myself I am better off dealing with on my own.

That being said... There is something incredibly strange about what I've been enduring the past couple of weeks. Maybe even this whole year. It holds the general theme of a battle against evil within my own mind, but the strangest part is that I have the impression that winning will result in peace on earth. I feel myself receiving 'keys', magickal thoughtforms which temporarily fend away the encroaching darkness. But as soon as I find these mantras working, events will occur which negate those models for interaction and introduce contexts in which they do not work. This is part of the reason I'm trying not to tell people how I am currently viewing existence, because my viewpoint is changing constantly. In my mind I'm just sketching and erasing, sketching and erasing, but not quite getting a good view of what I'm drawing, or even what it is I'm drawing. I feel like in my mind I'm doing everything I can to tune in to an optimized stream of thought that will allow me to be at peace with my surroundings and to transcend the fear within me. But for some reason, that fear always seems to win in the end.

I want to think it's because I'm not really confronting it, but I have been for the past few weeks, and it's really, really hard. I always wanted to avoid the concept of "evil" but I have been experiencing something that I cannot label with any other word. It flashes through my mind like a sword in the dark, like the sudden sound of a lightning strike. I want to think it's been the source of all the pain in my life, maybe all of the suffering on earth, and I have a chance now to defeat it forever. I have been telling myself "I don't know what anything really is, I only know how it seems to me at the moment", like in Quantum Psychology. This frame of thought is helping me to think I am a lot more powerful spiritually than I assume I am, and that it is my purpose in this life to realize this.

What we think has a profound effect on our perceived reality. When I am meditating I become fully aware of the impact that the thoughts I am actively creating are having on my surroundings, they are actually one and the same, it just depends on what I am tuned into that creates my reality and its potential. And yet, there is this devil on my shoulder, there is something telling me I must forego exploring creative realms, and it does not seem to be a helpful presence. It seems to be something that is stopping me from transmutation, to keep me enmeshed in a cycle of submissive seeking outside for what I already have. This is my primary reason for quitting my ritual drugs, to realize I have everything I need and that salvation does not come from any outside force. I am hoping this will loosen the grip of the entity that has been attached to me for so long, with all of its masks, all of its deceptions of hope. My idea of salvation is something that one initiates on their own.

Deprivation

The past 8 hours of my life have been absolutely horrible. Ever since deciding to quit drinking corporate cola I have found it harder and harder to sleep. On the night of the 29th I only received 2 hours of sleep before waking up. I wasn't able to go back to sleep. Yesterday went somewhat normally, save for the usual delirium. But last night, as I attempted to sleep, I slowly realized that this was not going to happen. My sister's cat has been in heat for the past 3 days. All throughout the night, she makes an incredibly irritating and loud sound. Every rare instance where I began to doze off, she would start again. I cannot describe the level of powerlessness and frustration this stirred up in me. If I closed my door in a futile attempt to block out the sound, my dog would scratch at it wanting to come in. I only got 2 hours of sleep again because when I locked her in my room to have the door closed (and when the cat fell asleep or something) she scratched and whined again to get out, instantly waking me up. My entire body aches, my teeth are sore from grinding, my mind is being sucked into a vortex of hate, and just as an added bonus, sometime during the night my rabbit broke one of his claws and he is now nearly unable to walk from the pain. I just can't believe the snowball effect that is taking place. Every time I tell myself the universe is naturally good and it's just my perceptions that need to change, shit like this happens. We are clearly in what could be described as hell. Nature is beautiful on the outside but totally cruel and unfair on the inside. People who are innocent and actually care for others are punished the worst out of anyone, while people who lie and murder are given all the power that could potentially change things. It is truly a pointless, endless struggle to see anything here as being inherently good and balanced. If there is a god, he is a fucking bastard.

Lagomorphic Resonance

Today I decided not to indulge in my ritual ingestion of a particular popular caffeinated soda beverage. I'm on a sort of quest to detox my body of all undesired chemical dependencies. But in the process of eliminating this agent, I feel my mind coming back under personal control. No longer in an unconscious frenzy to destroy all beauty, I can feel something emerging that is very rare to me: Peace. Naturally, stimulants are not very beneficial in attaining this state.

I can't remember the last time I wasn't totally hooked on some kind of stimulant. Starting in elementary school I was drinking coca cola on a near-daily basis. My parents would buy the decaffeinated kind so I wouldn't be up all night. But even then, it had high fructose corn syrup in it. So the past 13 years of my life I have been under the influence of these stimulant chemicals. And for the past 13 years I have suffered chronic depression. I was lucky enough not to be put on any sort of medication. But I was also unlucky enough to never really have anyone to connect with. I have felt extremely isolated my whole life, due to events in my childhood.

To summarize, when I was very young, my mother treated me differently than my siblings, and she made me feel special and loved. She was also a violent alcoholic and a drug user and she and my dad fought constantly. She left our house suddenly around when I was 5 years old. My sisters hated me because my mom didn't treat them like she treated me. So naturally, they bullied me. My dad decided to make up for what my mother did, and he would treat my sisters better than he treated me, to make them feel special. So when my mom left, I was stuck alone with an unbalanced family that psychologically scarred me. I was silent most of the time, just thinking more than anything. I would wait for my mother to come back. My father was silent towards me, unloving, uncaring. Acted like I wasn't there. I know it's somewhat normal for fathers to treat their sons this way, but after being raised by mother to feel like I was smart and cared for, and then to have that presence disappear, well... You get the picture. It created in me a feeling of abandonment, of despair and loss, a feeling that never quite went away. When she came back I was already gone.

To love is to be loved. The goal of my life is to heal from these wounds and to transcend the factors that have caused this grief. I have taken under my care a small rabbit. He was my younger sister's before I returned from Georgia, having escaped the farm. My sister would disappear for days on end, and I took upon the task of keeping him fed, and introduced exercise and proper attention to his life. She had been planning on giving him away to someone (clearly, a sign of responsibility and love), but I did not trust any of her friends to properly take care of this rabbit. They're not the very reliable people. So he fell under my care, to no complaints. He is helping me to love again.

Mister Mystical's Crystal Mysteries

A sinister air of outlying false superiority is spreading through my mind like dense fog. In the words and actions of others I see an incredibly harsh judgement of myself where no such intent is ... intended. The being which has taken up residence in my mind is cleverly directing etheric spears from my brainwaves towards my heart. It has to be sneaky and act as if these ideas are originating from my true creative source. A sabotage of will, if you will.

My revealing self, the one who displays these deeply personal interactions, the one which analyzes and sees these illusions as such, is the one I know I truly am. A shredder of veils, a solver of brain-games, an ejector of demiurgic influence. In the act of disclosing the presence of a invasive darkness, this spiritual parasite, I have defeated it, checkmate, for it does not "exist" as any sort of truth, but is trapped within the confines of my analytical mindcycle. There it is isolated, and shall be purged with the rest of my faulty reality models. 

I have the slightest feeling that my writings as of late are very hard to follow. Maybe even meaningless to the observer who cannot find substance with which to feed their brain. What I'm doing is casting a sort of spell. The act of presenting these words to the internet-mind acts as an expelling force, the mechanics of which are extremely vague to me, but something is drawing me to the conclusion that this will aid in flushing this entity from my stream of thought and out of my being forever, allowing me to flourish, allowing my presence to be cleared of this primitive fear.

Spectres on the Screen

The Demise of Guys: How Video Games and Porn are Ruining a Generation

"Increasingly, researchers say yes, as young men become hooked on arousal, sacrificing their schoolwork and relationships in the pursuit of getting a tech-based buzz."


I agree with a couple of overall themes of this article. I know firsthand that video games and porn can be incredibly "addicting". However, having broken both of those "addictions", I would say the actual disease here is a lack of critical thinking and some sort of spiritual path. The real problem of this generation, as I see it, is a complete lack of any sort of foresight, any sort of motivation beyond acquiring money. Those of us who are lucky enough to get off of society's hamster wheels after high school see this immediately. Having once been what is now called a "New Atheist", the ideas of which were cast violently out of my mind soon after I was out of high school and began experimenting with meditation and drugs, I can easily say that it is a frame of mind that is a complete dead end and may be the most important factor of this "ruined generation". We are not taught anything that would be truly important to know, just a set of mental skills that will more easily convert us into servile tools of some faceless corporation.

With this article, the problem posited by the authors and by commenters is that by indulging in these vices we are incapable of being efficient drones. Some habits are just more profitable to our "benefactors", I suppose. Yet within this porn-and-videogames model, The dominator aspect of our output into the physical realm is reduced to an entirely mental interaction. Our emerging thoughtforms are what we now dominate, our creativity eliminated or transmogrified into seek-and-destroy urges manifest. The spectres on the screen are of our own dead dreams.

To what ideal do we aspire? Our aspirations lie just beyond this electronic window, the visual information displayed not damaged or pleasured by our internal transactions of primitive urges. Violence is being fomented in the cycles of the developing mind. When people say "go fuck yourself", it is something you really do any time you have sex, due to one only having immediate knowledge of one's own impressions. So the only difference between finding pleasure in a computer screen and another human being is the aesthetic association imprinted throughout one's life. However, that's only the sex part. The development of nurturing symbiosis with another human being is not attainable through a machine.

The video game part is a bit more concerning. From a very disturbing personal experience, I have related thusly: A few months ago, shortly after learning I could "embed" myself into a matrix-like superhuman ability-structure while playing a popular online game, the violence carried over into my physical form. The same night, I gave my rabbit a bag to play with, and he got caught up in one of its straps. In a natural fear response, thinking himself to be in the clutch of some terrible predator, he darted around the room in an absolute frenzy, smashing into the walls. Eventually the bag lost its grip on him and he jammed himself behind a bookshelf. It was the most horrifying thing I have ever witnessed, to see this creature I loved completely lost in his illusion of fear, hurting himself in the process of trying to escape. I could see the correlation immediately and did not play that game again for a very long time.

What does this mean? To me, it means there is no difference between killing through a surrogate in a virtual dimension or killing in "real life". Either way, you are accessing and enacting some latent wish to harm, and carrying it out in mental space.

This is not all doom and gloom. It means that what you seek in your world is already in your imagination and subject to a psychotronic relay. However, our priorities and goals must be clearly outlined. Personally, I am seeking love, wrestling with some internal demon for control of my interface.

Virus Alert

During and after my meditations lately I've been reaching a strange place in my mind. I am tuned into extreme polarities, what one could call switching between heaven and hell. It almost seems like pure luck that I tune into either, and when I accidentally go to hell, it's not fun. In hell mode, every move I make is advanced by some inner force of darkness and my thoughts are invaded by sinister entities that take over my energetic form and make it perform incredibly evil acts. My way of breaking out of this trance is to place my awareness back into my physical body, to settle into the structural balance inherent in this universe. This is limbo, you could say. Proving to myself, I am not doing those horrible things I see in my mind's eye, I am sitting here calmly and at peace with my surroundings. It's a blessing that we are not constantly spiraling into the chaos of lost autonomy.

My heaven mode is where I decide that I, as a loving being, am in charge of my perceptions. Everything makes sense, and it's far beyond any sort of rational explanation, or reason to explain to others because they must find it on their own. When we are in pain, we view our entire lives as taking place within that pain realm. When we feel that all-encompassing love, it is all we have ever known. Yet they act as analogs, references to one another. We exist at the merging point of those analogs, we are their transaction. We are the energy of their interactions and fluctuations - we created them.

So, lately I've been far too mired in hell mode to really explore different perceptions. This archonic entity is acting to prevent me from altering reality too much. And in a weird way, I am appreciative of that. I know that I must listen to the heartbeat of being more to be able to do this properly. Something is speaking as if to say "so, you've figured out that your mind and your reality are one, what will you do if thoughtforms that are not your own end up in your mind?" Is this paradoxical? And could it just be showing me viruses in my holographic mindfield that could be screwing up my reality? I am convinced that our consciousness is far more influential upon our relative realities than we are aware of. One of my more frightening drug experiences involved me coming to the realization that by observing conspiracies and demonic alien forces, I was creating their reality. I alone, as a quantum observer, was responsible for the terror and iniquity of the world I found myself in. Which is, of course, why shamans are important. My only consolation within this total hell I find myself in from time to time (more often than not lately) is to actively direct my thoughts, to clear my mind-space of archetypal influence. I become nothingness, I clear the slate so to speak, back to the drawing board. I am not the artist nor the art, I am the act of art becoming and all variables involved.

We only know as much as what we're thinking about at the moment. We build big houses of cards and sometimes live in them for our whole lives, constantly in fear of inevitable winds, or approaching pachyderms. However, my interactions with the universal mind as of late are troubling. Synchronicity is informing me of a darker truth than what I am comfortable with. Something involving time loops and what Mark LeClair refers to as a "false womb". What's good is that there is equal response to negate or transmute this notion. My daily ventures into the vegetable biosphere are soaking me in the most undeniable beauty. I cannot observe the majesty of these trees, their deep, glowing hues of green in the foreground of the pink sunset without feeling like I am somewhere so pure and perfect, tarnished only by the cold logic of man's systems, of culture's needs, of our selfish stupidity in contrast to the wisdom of animal and plant kingdoms. There is something to be said of the beauty we have the option to interact with on a daily basis.

It's very important to consider your role in what you see around you. Some associations stick more than others due to the aesthetic in which you initially experienced them. But if those wear out, one should always go "back to the drawing board" and re-associate. You have that power, although from personal experience, it is not easy at first. I like to try and observe things without using words. What becomes important to you about that object? How do you see yourself as affecting it non-locally? How can you use this associative restructuring to make life better? To assume that one could simply be fooling oneself into delusions of grandeur by doing this would be implying an absolute perceivable reality to which all should subscribe, which is of course completely ridiculous.



"Everything should be constellated outward from the perceiving self. That is the primary datum." - Terence McKenna

Through the Grinder

I'm really going through bad stuff lately. Everything I do is just joyless, soulless. I'm starting to believe this is hell and that I'm stuck here for good. I've been exploited too many times to trust anyone. I've been betrayed and misled and I wallow in seemingly permanent ignorance. Nothing makes any sort of sense to me anymore.

Tonight I'm nursing a sick rabbit. I don't know how he got sick but I know I'm doing a bad job of taking care of him. He didn't do anything to deserve the pain he is in, and part of me knows it's my fault. I have these disturbing visions of hurting him in terrible ways. I don't know where these thoughts are coming from, but now I see that they are manifesting in physical reality. I have been struggling with these kinds of thoughts for a long time but now they are coming to a peak and I feel like they are going to destroy my soul. I don't know what to do. It's just a general aesthetic of uncontrollably violating something innocent and beautiful, killing the only thing in this world that I really love. It's devastating. (edit: in the time that it took me to write this, he seems to have recovered. He had been shifting around as if he had abdominal pain, a sign of a fatal illness in rabbits called gastrointestinal stasis. He has returned to eating and drinking his water and lying comfortably. I am focusing my thoughts towards him on being healing as if it were a life and death situation.)



The last time I was in Georgia, I witnessed a collapse of my entire life. I was living in a house with 3 friends in Marietta. While I was there, one of my friends was given too much acid and he went nuts. His family put him in a mental institution for a couple of weeks. I needed my friends to drive me to and from work which was 15 miles away so they became annoyed with me. My friend who had been committed decided to not renew the lease and move in with his mom which left the rest of us with a month to find a new place. I had been interested in working on a farm for a while and thought this was a good opportunity to do it. But at the same time I was incredibly nervous about it. As in, mortally terrified. It was a huge difference from everything I was used to. My 2 housemates had found a place on their own without asking me if I wanted to move in. They had become fed up with me needing them to drive me around so they left me to fend for myself with no resources, no money, no car, and no more friends to depend on. Two nights after the water had been turned off in our house, I managed to contact my best friend from elementary school who is in college as an art student. He let me spend the night at his house. But we spent that night taking the longest walk I've ever taken, never getting tired, and we talked about everything in the world. I had left a voicemail on the phone of the owner of the only farm that wasn't 100 miles away. By slim chance, he had called me back at 8 in the morning the next day. I had negotiated with him to let me move in that day.

I had moved in later that day. The program involved working on a farm, and they provide shelter and food. There was only one other volunteer there when I had moved in. His name was Victor. He was a middle-aged gay alcoholic with HIV and his mother was dying of cancer. He was incredibly depressed and chose to live in a sweltering room in the barn. I chose to live in what was to become a house for the volunteer workers - an abandoned farm house, its hardwood floors torn out, the whole thing left in shambles from people coming in and taking things from it for the 4 years that it had been desolate and uninhabited. The third night I was there I was beginning to withdraw from cigarettes from the first time, and fully realized the shock of what had transpired in the past week. As I lie in my makeshift bed composed of blankets on a dirty floor, I felt invisible mosquitoes landing and biting, landing and biting. I had no fan and the heat was unbearable. I snapped and left the house and walked down the long, rocky driveway to the street. I had planned on finding an isolated place to slit my wrists. I had no idea where I was, it was a completely new area to me. I wanted to get lost. I just walked and walked until I realized what a coward I am. I found my way back to the farm. Somehow I slept that night. The next morning, I made no mention of my journey into utter darkness.

Life as a worker drone could have been worse. When Victor's mother died, his alcoholism possessed him completely. He refused to work and I lost whatever motivation I had to work. He eventually got into a fight with the owner of the farm, attacking him with an empty vodka bottle. He was immediately booted off of the farm and went to live on an illegal chicken farm. Earlier this year, that chicken farm exploded. Literally. The whole thing went up in a huge explosion. Completely unexplained.

I met some really nice people who were passing through America using the farming program to move around. Most significant to me were two swedish girls who were both a year younger than me. Two days before they had come to my farm, they had taken acid for the first time together in New Orleans. That aesthetic had stayed with them. They were deep, artistic and highly intelligent, like no one I had ever met before. One of them, I fell deeply in love with. She was tall, beautiful and had the most amazing eyes. The two of them were only set to stay for four days. I looked deeply into her eyes as she walked off into the night never to return, and I had never told her how I felt. So it goes. I will always remember them.

After they left, nothing was the same. Their arrival and stay was the peak of my experience there. Then began the downward spiral.

A Jehovah's Witness from california, a girl of 18 who was travelling across the world on a bicycle, came to our farm. She stayed for a month. The first night she was at the farm, she and I and another volunteer from Brazil slept in a frozen room with one electric heater. It was 12 degrees that night. There was frost on the inside of the windows. It was symbolic of the hell which was about to ensue. This frigid sleepytime continued for a week. Soon after she arrived (and soon after I realized she was insane, having caused several religious arguments with the owners of the farm, calling them "swine" and telling them they were going to hell) we received 5 more people - a couple from China and 3 friends from Texas. 8 in all in an abandoned house that I had fixed up on my own. She managed to convert the Chinese people to Jehovah's Witnesses after brainwashing them night after night. One of the people from Texas introduced me to Yerba Mate, for which I will always be grateful. The jehovah's witness drove me absolutely nuts. After the others had left, it was just her and I. And she was very, very annoying. She had the mind of a child and I did not see her off when she finally left.

After she left, I was there alone. I had started talking with my ex-girlfriend again, having forgiven her for breaking my heart for the 3rd time. What a mistake. I began regularly playing music with the friends who had left me in the dust months before. I was feeling forgiving, refreshed from my experiences with interesting (if not crazy) strangers. Quitting cigarettes and only eating organic, homecooked meals made me feel better than I ever had after eating nothing but microwave dinners and fast food and guzzling caffeinated soda my entire life. I was reading books regularly, finally. The only thing I could complain about was that I was not being paid. I had no money whatsoever. But it really didn't matter, considering I was getting plenty of sunshine and waking up early to do fulfilling work in the fresh air. Things were getting to be great for me, something I had never experienced. Then I began finding psilocybin mushrooms in the large pile of horse bedding that I had cleaned out of the barn with the two swedish girls. I did enough research to find out that they were Panaeolus Cinctulus mushrooms. This was an odd opportunity. The people who owned the farm were religious and not drug-friendly. So I had to keep this on top-secret status. It became troubling to me that I had to hide something from them. The morning after a tornado had passed through, a day after the deadly tornadoes in Alabama that were all over the news, I found a good-sized flush of these mushrooms. I took them to my room, being as super secret as possible. That night I ate them. I didn't really feel anything at first, then I realized I felt like a cotton ball and was being sucked into the patterns in my straw hat. I gazed out into the sunset and watched Trees: The Movie.

Things changed after this experience. Victor returned to the farm, much to my surprise. He had nowhere else to go and had lessened his alcohol intake. But I was much less willing to judge him as I did before. We became friends. Around this time, my work was becoming harder with less return. I was used to wheelbarrowing 200+ pounds of soil uphill for 3 hours a a day every day for weeks on end. But then it became time to keep the overabundance of plants on the farm watered, which was my job. Our water was coming from a well, which frequently ran out due to the owner's wife doing 3 or 4 loads of laundry every day. She was obsessive compulsive, a nurse and a neat freak. She worked at a hospital and paid all the bills. The owner of the farm had worked as a CFO for a big electrical company for years but had quit his high-paying job to go into farming. He lost most of his money on a bad lease for a nicer looking farm up the road. They were hoarders, keeping every single thing they had ever owned. The barn was a terrible mess, it was their storage space and they lived in a tiny loft above it. Him, his wife, his mother, and their 2 sons. They had a maid from El Salvador, a very nice woman, clean their house, take care of the baby, brew a special drink they had created, do their ridiculous amount of laundry and cook 90% of the food that they and I ate.

The laundry thing was getting out of hand. I could only water plants for 5 minutes at a time before having to let the well re-fill (if it ever did). This was 5 minutes at a time every 30 minutes to water 280 beds of plants. Extremely tedious, to the point of insanity. They began blaming me for plants not getting watered. I became less and less willing to do it. I talked to Victor about the problems I had with the family and he was no stranger to their idiosyncracies. Having his support made me realize that I was not alone in my perceptions and I stopped working altogether. The plants I had raised to be big and strong died as no one took care of them and no one in the family communicated with me. They stopped bringing food to my house and I had to eat Victor's food that he bought from the grocery store. It was very unnerving to live in this house on their property and not have any contact with them. Victor left after about a month of my refusal to work. Around this time I cut off my ex as on her bi-annual vacation she had hooked up with her acid dealer "boyfriend" from 2007 in canada and had ignored me completely for the 3 weeks that she was gone, after months of us rebuilding our friendship and me falling in love with her again. It was really a far more traumatizing experience for me than I am willing to get into here but understand that it contributed to the dreadful atmosphere of the ensuing events.

Things got really uncomfortable. I was not talking to them, and they were not talking to me. My dad sent me about 100 dollars a month (this began at about 200 and moved down about 50 dollars each month) without knowing of my situation and I was able to walk to the grocery store every week to buy the cheapest food I could find. I can't really explain what this was like, to live unwanted in an abandoned house, in constant fear that they would kick me out any moment, having nowhere to go. This lasted for months. Months. It was my own personal hell. I had all the space I had ever wanted, but in completely nauseating circumstances. Near the end of each month I would start to run out of money to buy food. I would panic. I would starve myself to conserve what little food I had. I never knew when my dad was going to send more money. It was completely by chance (and completely unlike him) that he had decided to send me any money at all, much less on a regular basis. My formerly comfortable room became a strange, dissonant prison cell. My walks to the grocery store became silent trips through inner torture chambers as I spent my last few cents on a pack of ramen noodles that was supposed to last me longer than it ever could. I had to pretend everything was fine for my friends who I played music with on the weekends. I don't know why, I just had to keep my stupid, selfish pride. They couldn't have helped me anyway.

I realized true loneliness. True despair. True loss. It was terror. It was a slow, banal churning of gears of doom. It was almost christmas and my dad had mentioned something about flying me out to Michigan to stay with my family for a week. I called him about it and told him I was in bad shape. He drove down and picked me up and took me away.

It was very hard for me to recall these events. I had pushed a lot of these memories aside until tonight.

Mercurial Shadow Play

I have to admit, writing is a bit of a chore for me these days. My mind is working in non-linear fashion and it's near impossible to express a thought that anyone besides myself can relate to. But I'll try anyway.

I have been enduring the throes of withdrawal these past few days. Cigarettes. They cloud my mind, numb me to any sort of dismay I may need to encounter to get myself off of a certain path. It's really not that bad getting off of them, it's just these crazy mood swings I get where I'll be perfectly fine one second and in absolute hell the next. I'm grappling with something inside of me that is inherently dark and violent. I can hear it whispering in my ear, giving suggestions, showing me terrible visions of things I cannot believe are somewhere within me. I know it's me, I know it's my shadow, but I am having a hard time dealing with it. Do I confront it? Do I run away as fast as I possibly can? I want to just avoid it, but it always catches up with me. I am in a constant struggle to replace these horrible visions with my true will, that of love. All I know is that, eventually, I must have enough courage to banish this entity from my soulspace for good. The problem with becoming "lighter" is the darker the shadows one casts become. On the surface of mind these images of pain inject themselves, these shadow beings in direct contrast to my inner light taking things I love and creating doubles and hurting them, a double of myself taking the violent action itself, not me but just something that looks like me.... 

They are dependent on me, they are feeding off of me like parasites. The fear that I feel when in their presence is incredible. I feel powerless, completely unable to stop this flow of soul-destroying blackness. I have experienced this my entire life, actually. The more I think about it, this is not a new phenomenon, I am just becoming more aware of it. The brighter I shine the more defined these shadows become in contrast to the surface, the closer my sun gets to the surface of being the better I can see how they move. But what is creating these shadows? What objects are casting them? Are they my own fears? I'm thinking about how movies are coordinated, colored shadows. How do I angle myself as to eliminate these shadows? Do I become more than one source of light? Do I illuminate everything at once? Thinking about our stream of thought, how it is that single light source, one thing at a time within the vastness of signals. 

It's a sort of chess game. The only thing is, I suck at chess.

I realize though, that I'm not alone, no matter how isolated this being makes me feel. Below is a description of exactly what I'm going through.


The Dweller on the Threshold

"As delineated by gnostic author Samael Aun Weor the mind lives continuously reacting against the impact of the outside world. These feedbacks of appreciation depart from a demonic mental entity. This creature is the Guardian of the threshold of the human mental body . This mental custodian enslaves the mind of all human beings.


 Violence, desires and passions, hatred, bitterness, egoism, wrath, envy, and slander are responses coming from the mental keeper, claims Weor. The body of wishes is nothing else but a temper device of the mind keeper. The true being is not the mind, the Being is the Being, says the Gnostic. If temporarily the disciple has dispossessed himself from his mind, he can talk with the guardian. Then, the mind seems to be an independent individual that sits in front of him. After this deep exploration, the devotee will be aware that his mind is a wild force, which he must overcome, command and direct. Depriving himself from this terrible sentinel allows transform his matter mind into Christ mind.


 To succeed the spiritual practitioner works via the inner fire, asserts Weor. Awaking the igneous serpent of the mental body, it runs the spinal cord (the igneous wings) and then him daringly faces this dark beast and defeats it in an appalling wrestling match. As a consequence, after that moment, the mind of the spiritual practitioner only obeys the direct commands of the true self."

 a protester meditates in the face of black-clad figures, 5/19

Psycle

Initiate sequence

During meditative states we unlock access to an invisible world. Sure, you're still looking at the back of your eyelids, but something is different. Being and its limitations are transformed. Our transaction with the world around us is symbolic: We receive data, whatever we're tuned into, and apply symbolic association to whatever we are perceiving. Put  (more) simply, we alone define the world around us. The only way to really approach this mode of interaction is to suspend all fear. Time is not linear, what you are focused on at the moment is your reality. So when you are tense or fearful, reflect on your stream of thought and really analyze it. It's all in your head. Literally. All of it. Everything you've ever perceived in this world has been through your brain and central nervous system. And who is to say that what you imagine is untrue? It's in your head just like everything else. You just have to reconfigure your maps to become who and what you really want to be. What we have on earth is a shared mind, a psychic interaction on all levels. But when we close our eyes we can break away and work on our own perception. It's pretty much a perfect environment for evolution.

Remember this - You are not incomplete. Everything you can possibly experience is within this interactive state. You are the key and the lock but both are always changing shape. The love you seek will be something you feel and share, an inner state potentially accessed through someone else. All you can know of other people is your impressions of them, your assumptions and mental associations. You can change your world as easily as you can change your mind. Self and environment are not separate, they are necessarily intertwined and entangled. There is no absolute reality map to subscribe to. You are entirely free to reposition your point of view to ascend all obstacles. But you are the one who has to make that decision.

What does this have to do with Sync? Everything. When synchronicity occurs within my own perception, I see the unity between my mind and my environment. Everything is a symbolic data transaction, I receive and immediately (quicker than lightning) transmit an association into the vortex. I am not simply receiving a data transfer, I am editing the information in real-time. Time is the process of our primitive mammalian forms adjusting to being God. Like adjusting to a cold swimming pool.

It is far more of a significant thought to me to assume that I know nothing of the world around me than to assume that I know everything about it, much less know everything about myself. We tend to substitute our word for things in place of perceiving the actual thing itself. It takes a lot of reflection to realize one is actively creating their thoughts, their associations, their reactions. We have a symbolic array collected over the course of our lives and after a certain point we tend to not "update" our ArcHives to correctly interpret the constant flow of information. We create cycles, bubbles of information streams that no longer bring in significant information but reaffirm our long-held doubts and expectations. These create a negative feedback loop making it harder for us to evolve.

I guess the point I'm trying to express is, don't stick with one model for too long. Always consider that you may be entirely wrong, because information cannot be received unless you are open to having your database configured.

Rebirth

It's been a long time since I've updated this blog regularly. I just got a new laptop, so I plan on posting more often. I really don't want to return to my old style of posting crappy news items, it's just not interesting to me anymore. So give me some time to get my groove back. A lot of people are doing really cool things with their blogs and I want to be worthy of sharing that space. I think my biggest flaw concerning this blog is totally half-baked ideas. I just can't seem to get everything I want to express into one stream of thought. I think it's because I rush to get things out. I'm not the most patient person in the world and it is tough for me to really perfect something before presenting it. I just lose interest so quickly. I can't even finish this post.

42% of American adults will be obese by 2030

42% of American adults will be obese by 2030

Yes, this post is a throwback to how I used to do my blog: stumble upon stories containing syncs on news aggregators and repost them here. The content of the story is usually insignificant in the context of Sync but the number 42 jumps out at me many times during the day. I had been having a strange slew of Food related syncs for the past few months and I believe this ties in. William Klaus has attached himself unconsciously to my food thread with his post "MSG on the brain". In this post he finds the "antidote" to the effects of MSG to be Taurine, which relates to Taurus, our current Sun Sign. 

In other food news, the formula for Coca Cola was discovered on this day in 1886.

Bow (tension released, arrow in flight)

Arrow Up 

B.O. and Bo ("bow wow" - Aferrismoon)

subtle arrow in A of Avengers

 Arc Bow-t

Trajectory Ark

Quant-Umm...

In a recent post (yes, in the short amount of time in which I am allowed to use a computer, I have decided to revive this thing) I stated: (in reference to social media) "all I see is people pissing into a black hole." But I have to ask myself, what endeavor is there that isn't pissing into a black hole? We all die, we all enter that void at some point in our perceived timeline. There is no point and that is the point. We are clearly in a realm of paradox - plants that sustain our life thrive on dead matter. The world is aesthetically beautiful and yet there is so much bloodshed, so much violence, so much ignorance. Ignorance of what? What's the point? The point is everywhere, the point is nowhere. The point is you. You are everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. I can easily just say these things and they ring true to me because I make them true. I increase the probability of later finding things within my environment that will support this belief.

I am of the opinion that we are not only our local mind-body (no separation really) construct because we can choose to perceive our thoughts and actions from a non-local vantage point. Here I have gained much influence from the work of Robert Anton Wilson and his book Quantum Psychology. Non-local information is the "nowhere point" - think of it as the song playing "in" your speakers or the visual array being decoded by your brain patterns "in" your monitor. The musicians haven't actually shrunken down in size and teleported into your speaker system to play you a show. But at the same time, they have because they have imprinted their information into the non-local information field to be interpreted by your local information field simultaneously registering in your non-local self. You just increased the probability of these factors synchronizing by consciously seeking it out.

Which brings us back to the synchromorphic field. An awareness of meaningful coincidences expands your signature in the non-local flux. One can become aware that everything they see is not within their own mind, but within The Mind, which a lot of synchromystics refer to as The Heart or The Center. What you think has a transactional effect on your reality, you take gambles based on non-local information logged in the holographic plate of your brain. Your mind is actually a local inference of the non-local spectrum, a slice of the holographic Logos. Holograms can be chopped any which way and yet each piece retains the information of the whole. Put simply, your sensory array is a fractal of the whole of being.

Lately I have been inundated with strange thoughts that do not seem to be generated within my own creative mind. They are fearful, violent and extremely unpleasant, and manifest internally as potential actions I may perform but which I would never bring into being. I am beginning to think of this phenomenon as a sort of surrender of egoic will, a jolt bringing me back into what is happening in front of me rather than what "I" wish was happening. Coming full circle, you could say. There's a great chapter in the sync book by Justin Morgan which expands upon this, during a meditation he saw his ultimate destiny as what is here and now. We just need to tune into the non-local "software" that brings our local "hardware", as RAW would put it, into synchronization with our most incredible dreams.

Buy The Sync Book, damnit.

This may be hypocritical of me to say since I never buy books, much less anything besides things that prolong my harmful addictions. But if you enjoy reading my blog, you will love this fine collection of... What do you even call them? Stories? Research items? Experiential artifacts of the ineffable? Either way, it's really a great read and will blow open the doors of perception already latent in your ever-blossoming mind. And by buying it you will be supporting me, a starving artist lost in the throes of his own madness. This chapter alone should make you clickity-click in anxious excitement (you're not going to find it in any nearby bookstore so there's no running involved).

  Jake Kotze's sync book chapter

  "Everything is connected to everything else, sync being the cases when our current perspective allows us to see these thing-events as related (or as not divided). Often the seemingly random and meaningless will later be understood as perfectly "in sync," when the perspective shifts appropriately. In this view of sync, we now move away from seeing synchronicity as the connections deemed special and move into a knowing of that property which makes one connection meaningful or not-a property that is always present, because it is ourselves. Syncs offer endless insight into the world, but their most essential quality is in vivifying what and who really allows for them." - Jake Kotze

 Just read that and tell me you're not grabbing your mouse and recklessly flinging your pointer to the link below.

  Buy The Sync Book on Createspace - Please, please God buy this book on Createspace and not Amazon. They are evil space vampires who are sucking the lifeforce out of the 26 divine cartographers who compiled this compendium of Sacred Info Nuggets (SIN). Just look at these amazing people embracing their shiny monolith of joy:

Kevin Halcott of The Sync Whole and It's Not Night: It's Space

Toure of The Sync Whole and The Patternist

Steve Willner likes it!

These upstanding young people (and 23 others) put their heart and soul into producing this book for you. They are not out to make a buck, but I am for the time being. And I'd love to see them get something in return for all their hard work. Thank you for your time.

The Collapse

I'm starting to notice a strange disconnect between myself and humanity. I rarely talk to humans on a regular basis - as in, face to face. I talk to my sister for about 30 minutes or less every day. Living with my family and having no friends where I currently live, my life is basically a sterilized bubble. Most of my time is spent in either silence or music. I read sometimes but not often enough. I've realized that most of my time is spent on social media outlets, but rarely ever contributing my own point of view. It's a side effect of noticing the way that other people communicate through these mediums and just not resonating. What's good is that I am able to view life through a quasi-hermetic seal, watching the fluctuations in the sphere of influence my attention has granted me. But all I'm seeing is people pissing into a black hole. Living socially entirely through the internet is entirely meaningless. There's a great japanese movie about this called "Kairo" (not to be confused with Cairo, Egypt), where people basically disappear into their rooms and become ghosts transmitted through the computers of other people. All that is left of their human form is a black stain.

Somewhat ironically, the data overload of the internet is resulting in a general lack of real information. Sure, you can search for just about anything and find a result, but there's no real curiosity, in terms of thinking that you may not find what you were looking for. There's no "meat" to justify your searches. I'm guessing this is entirely in my mind, and that's the thing, it's becoming harder and harder for me to find some sort of tribe to fit into. Someone to relate to. Anyone. It's not even that I'm in this permanent state of despair, most of the time I am just fine in my bubble. But the tension is growing and this thing is about to pop. My current form of thinking (or reality model) is not very creative. I feel like I'm in a sort of inverted panopticon. In my mind I feel totally vulnerable, as if every little thought I have can have totally drastic results on the physical world. It doesn't really allow for creative exploration, it doesn't let me test things out unless they fit what I think will be a positive result in the cause and effect mechanism I have, up to now, felt out. I am a weird person, I want to think strange things, but lately I feel transparent, and being in a family atmosphere I feel like I have these self-imposed limitations that may or may not be valid. This is also a side effect of the social pressure I feel from outlets like Facebook. It's more about maintaining the "respect" of your "followers" or "friends" (which just means "shut up unless you have something nice to say") through consensus views rather than radical ideas. I feel like I cannot be authentic, I cannot express myself as I please through these new norms of global communication. I have basically been completely at a loss for words concerning reality itself. I have no idea what's "real" anymore, I have no foundation on which to form "valid" opinions, and it's becoming near impossible for me to communicate the ideas that I do have. I just simply can't put into words the beauty and grace that I see around and within me, I have no outlet to express the inexpressible I am interacting with on a daily basis. I find myself constructing and deconstructing ideas faster than I can blink, nothing is holding ground. I would see it as a good thing in the sense that I am much less likely to subscribe to ideology, but my isolation is making me wonder if I'm doing what's best for me. I'm sure I'll see all of this entirely differently seconds from now. Things are just happening way too fast for me to comprehend.