Welcome again!
Today’s title is a play on some lyrics by Rage Against the Machine. Contentwise, we’re taking a number of cues from the work of John Lash, as a healthy contrast and breath of fresh air. It is my hope that I can always bring something fresh and useful and relevant here, and not get bogged down in self-absorbed complacency. Heaven forbid I contribute to the smothering embrace of dogma, to the insidious fog of the false light that promises salvation and leads to perdition.
John Lash’s mythopoeic and investigative genius, his heroic attitude, his commitment to timeless values, and his love for the spirit of humanity are greatly inspiring. If you’re not yet familiar with his defining work, the reconstructed Wisdom Goddess mythology of the suppressed Gnostic tradition, I suggest listening to “Sailing Across the Gender Rift,” one of his more recent audio recordings, in which the story is revisited for both newcomers and veterans alike.
I’m forced to observe, as I go through my day, all the delinquent, narcissistic currents and tendencies in my thinking and behavior. I am as much a product of the age we live in as the most ignorant Pod Person. I chose that reference because I am composing these words on my iPod, ironically enough. The depth of that irony will become apparent as I explain.
One of the concerns of our time is the sudden, unprecedented proliferation of these mobile devices. It's clear to see, especially if one takes a step back, that the addiction to these devices, and to the simulacrum of reality they so seductively offer, can be neither natural nor healthy, and even poses a clear and present danger to our evolution and our well-being. If you’ve ever used one, you may have noticed the sensations in your body that resulted, especially from prolonged use. (We have been well trained to ignore bodily signals; this is one of the triumphs of the archontic programming we contend with. Paying attention to the way we feel in our bodies is an important part of the awakening process.) My own sense is that of an energetic change, a drain of life force, replacing the invigorating, harmonious, flowing, native vibration with a morbid, chaotic, stagnant, and foreign vibration. Based on that experience, I am not laughing when John Lash makes the assertion that these touch-screen devices are, in fact, a vector for the third stage of what he calls A.I., the ‘archontic infection’, a partial
timeline of the progression of which he has sketched out in the latest Nousflash notes.
(I just switched over to my no-frills laptop with separate no-frills keyboard. Much better!)
He also says that the physical touch of skin on screen gives some of our bioelectromagnetic energy over to the matrix of the archons, actually feeding it. This seems unexplainable and therefore improbable to the conditioned rational mind – how convenient that the worship of blind intellect has infiltrated our Western culture to the point of invisible saturation! – and yet the experiential evidence is there, the consistent feeling that one has been sucked of some vital essence, one’s aura depleted, through even less-direct contact with the less-flashy electronic toys, but particularly by the use of these touch screens.
The final effect of this third, terminal stage of the infection, says Lash, is the complete removal of all that is remotely human from our psyche. No originality. No individuality. No independent thought. No creative impulse. No desire for the living immediacy, warmth, and vulnerability of real, authentically human contact. Little by little, the human animal is led to surrender that which makes it human, leaving nothing but an aimless, ravenous beast. A biological vessel now stripped of all meaningful functions of spirit and soul, completely enslaved and controlled. A meat robot, ready and willing to perform exactly as its overlords intend. The end result? A human race made over in the image of the usurping artificial intelligence, inimical to its planetary mother, destroying, violating, and perverting her and its fellow children along with itself.
This legacy is not the intention of Gaia, nor is it set to prevail. There is a spiritual immunity inherent to the Anthropos, the energetic template of humanity as a life form, that ensures that some portion of us, those who so choose, will never submit, never lose.
The way John Lash tells it, as a piece of Gnostic intel, there were fully ten failed versions of the Anthropos experiment prior to the current iteration with its anomalous personal involvement of the Aeon Sophia. These failures came about even without the unanticipated complication of the abiogenesis of the cunning, vengeful archons. Those human strains did not reach their full and highest potential... but could it be that these parasites and their machinations are the very element that will push us to achieve it in concert with Gaia herself? Humanity’s finest hour is at hand, says the Terton. The very worst and the very best that we are capable of coincide.
Nousletter #5,
Romantic Individuality, comments on a
video of Jim Carrey clowning around on late-night television, displaying the familiar Illuminati triangle but with a lolling tongue instead of the eye. Funny stuff. That clip can be taken so many ways. My honest, direct impression of it was quite sinister. I saw a mass programming event designed to deepen the hypnotic trance while still providing the opening for awakening. The chilling gist of the (seemingly) intended effect is a schizophrenic, simultaneous admission and denial-by-ridicule of Illuminati influence over the entertainment industry. It acts as an inoculation against the truth for those disinclined to seek it. They pull the old fright-tactic / false-comfort game again: “Boo! We are real and we are scary, here we are admitting it in the open! … Haha, gotcha! Funny funny. It’s OK, here’s your security blanket, go back to sleep. Heh heh heh!” The gloating, genocidal, deranged Demiurge and his warm, fuzzy alter ego. Madness; misery begging for company.
The lolling tongue, as explained by John Lash, is a threefold symbol associated with Kali. One: the image of an animal dying of thirst: the spiritual dehydration of the Kali Yuga. We can be led to the Water of Life, but such is our state of disorientation and degradation that few of us are equipped to really drink it. The proliferation of false guides, the blind leading the blind, and of counterfeit sources, really makes this a perilous time in that regard. Only our most dedicated, honest self-inquiry and sincerity of purpose will suffice to bring us into a position to enjoy those revivifying draughts. And yet that spring eternal is as close to us as our very Self, here and now. It is that feeling of overwhelming divine thirst that drives us to make every effort to attain it.
Two: addiction, the unrestrained pursuit of sensual gratification, the oral stage of sexuality. Weak, foolish mortals helplessly give themselves over to all manner of self-sabotaging habits and compulsions instead of making their overarching object of desire the one thing that could free them to really enjoy the pleasures they endlessly run after and also free them from the cycle of pain, relief, and guilt. The total, pure, guiltless, and unattached enjoyment of carnal pleasures is the perfect expression of the infernal (material) polarity of divinity, which, by virtue of its oneness with Spirit, knows the innocent perfection and the proper place and measure of all things. Addictions run rampant in the Kali Yuga. Desire is the motivating force of creation itself. Divorced from living wisdom and love, it morphs into an intolerable curse. The pain of that curse, allowed to run freely through our being with eternal Spirit as the forgiving witness, becomes our road to liberation. Resistance ensures persistence. Full, unflinching, contemplative awareness of the addiction experience, releasing our energetic bonds to it by relaxing into surrender, vigilantly and consistently, will undo the binding spell and make each moment a timeless ecstasy.
Three: the tongue-on-knife ritual of the Kalika warrior. Since our interpreter is the first and maybe the only expert on this esoteric and novel initiation, I will happily defer to his exact phrasing:
But since the Ronda Moment I live continually in an expanded frame of sensitivity about pleasure and pain. I realized then that the non-dual ground awareness, which is pure and total bliss, conjures intensities of pleasure and pain out of sheer hunger for its own beauty. Endlessly ravenous, the current of Divine Shakti crashes, shivers, and melts through every conceivable nuance of so-called emotion, and perfects itself by consuming its own beauty, and being consumed by it, in turn.
The realization that overwhelms mind and body at such a sublime moment does not fade or wane. It just builds and builds, as much as you can handle it, one moment at a time. And gradually, over time, it dissolves the illusion of time completely—there's a Kaliesque paradox for you. The Ronda Moment provided the perfect counterpart to my experience a month earlier, when I underwent the Kalika initiation of Tongue on Knife up on the Ridge. That is to say, I discovered and performed that ritual in the same moment. The cognitive enlightenment that triggered that spontaneous ritual came in a brutal blow of liberating power from my guardian dakini. By her grace, I realized that the root of all addiction is addiction to the pain of not being seen. Even the Divine Shakti, the sourcing power to manifest the Universe, feels the pain of not being seen. And imagine the immensity of that emotion, considering what is to be seen!
The
whole text, along with plain info, teases with some profound and tantalizing glimpses....
The fact that one experiences limiting attachments to certain unwanted patterns is not a problem in itself. The problem arises from one’s relationship to the fact of the matter. Time heals all ills – given the right conditions. And if there is no ill to be healed in the first place, then, well....
What if we reframe the addiction as neither good nor bad, but simply another pattern playing itself out? What if we recognize that the same Source that recreates the addiction pattern in every static
‘frame’ of time can also cease to maintain its existence at any time, and that that Source is within our reach – so near that there is no difference and no distance between ourselves and it? What if we honor it all as part of the gift of life, give up the need to prescribe meaning to it, and give it back to Source sanctified by our gratitude for the grace in every moment, as a devotional offering in the trusting attitude of prayer? What if we stop struggling to attain some imagined ideal of non-attachment and simply realize that our inner nature is already at rest, perfectly neutral, while the vicissitudes of life come and go as ever-balanced extensions of that void state in a symphonic dance of the exquisite outworking of a hierarchy of laws? What if we could balance the personal and heavy aspect with sober, grounded objectivity and an unfounded, carefree lightness?
There’s more than one way to skin a cat. What a horrible expression to have wormed its way into our conventional figures of speech. But let’s stick with it here, since we’re talking about ingrained patterns. You can philosophize about it any which way, and still go about performing the actions to separate skin from cat... or you can have a change of heart and let the poor cat keep its skin until Mother Nature decides it doesn't need it anymore. Yeah? And now I’m not even sure I know what I’m saying anymore; isn’t that grand? Somehow I’ve always pictured that cat being alive to start with. Schrödinger, what have you done?
So many addictions and ingrained habits. Some destructive, some indifferent, some ambivalent, and some sublime. I don’t know if it’s worth getting hung up on judging or not judging the difference from a surface-mind point of view. I’ve got mine for sure, along with some I’d gladly be rid of. But I’m content to try to observe, contemplate, accept and forgive. Even celebrate, if I can. If not, no biggie.
Alchemy is always good. If there’s a way you can turn a liability into an asset, you might as well try it. At the very least, (real) forgiveness lets you off the hook from the debilitating effects of guilt.
The earthly cabal’s got its hooks in us almost every way we turn. Same goes for the foreign psychic installation of the lizzies. Some hooks are more voluntary than others. If we’re going to tear ourselves up with anxiety and impotent rage about the ones we feel poking through our flesh, then that’s our business. The Zen-ish approach seems more sane to me. They can’t touch what we are, the part that matters. All they can do is try their best to convince us of their dominion over us, to make us forget that we are so much more than what the straitjacket of society tells us we can be. The more of the truth we know and act upon, the less concerned we need to be over all that. We are not measured by our material success here; we are measured in the realm of measures by the quality of our motives and choices. Then again, the measureless makes us all ultimately equal.
We can see ourselves as victims of the currents that move us and impact on us. We can withdraw our awareness and ignore or deny those currents. We can seek to fight them or change them. We can try to accept them. And / Or, we can inquire into the depths of ourselves to discover the fountainhead of wisdom, courage, and serenity within, whereby we can navigate impeccably as fish do: by instinct. As effortlessly as the infinite. As an open conduit between heaven and earth. As a conscious, connected mind-body matrix moved by the interplay of spirit and soul.
Words, words, words. If you get something out of them, great. That’s more than I even ask. My role as scribe is complete and therewith am I satisfied. Thanks for taking the time.
