Of Devils and Angels
This is about proportion, about genetics, about the nature of this reality, about the meaning of life, about purpose, about mission, about the human condition, about now, about all sorts of stuff.
I guess it’s written to me, as judging by the absence of visitors and comments almost no-one else reads this.
If you do, Hi!
We come to an understanding that what we think of as real is simply an illusion.
Albeit a persistent one, as Einstein said. The creator of this reality makes it of atoms, their solidity only registered because of an “agreement” between our senses and the rules of the reality laid down in the core programming.
Think of a car crash in a computer game. The car doesn’t exist. The wall it crashes into doesn’t exist. But there is an explosion, and noise, fire and smoke.
None of it is real, just photons of light interacting to a set of rules, a core programme.
This reality operates in the same way.
We believe it to be real because we exist within it and the core programme carried by the body-mind accepts it as such.
And because most people never even think to ask.
It’s an amazingly detailed reality. Self-fixing, self replicating life forms existing in the perfection that we call nature, which can do no wrong but simply is, in balance, created to self-perpetuate and to tidy up after.
We are made of atoms and return to atoms and are recycled as tree or stone or worm or, one day, star, as we were in the beginning.
The nature of the whole universe is beautiful in its absolute complexity and in its absolute balance. The universe is always a simple mathematical equation, 1=1 and there can be no more nor no less than the whole.
It is a whole, encapsulated, consisting of indestructible elements which are perpetually and eternally recycled, creating the appearance of sentient beings as just one part of its function, or created for those sentient beings as a place for them to experience.
Like a nursery school for eternal beings, perhaps.
We like to think we are the most important function of reality, because we are human and full of conceit, which is of course the main cause of the problem with our species.
Reality could have been made by the creator for insects, we humans being just incidental to the experience they go through.
Squashers and swatters and poisoners, to be avoided at all costs.
We have this terrible conceit because we believe ourselves to be the cleverest things around! Look around you, at the baby murdering scum we have become and ponder the opinion of the creator, or any truly sentient being, of us apes.
It is no wonder truly advanced beings, if such exist, do not visit us.
We are bad animals.
Our made-murderous species offers no opportunity for peaceful tourism.
If an alien appeared our first instinct would be to shoot it, and then dissect it, and then try and steal what technology it had.
Probably, we’ve done this already.
We know, of course, that our consciousness is carried by these atom-made machines, these feelers of pain and experiencers of warmth and of cold, these livers of short lives in the eternity of the moment “now” that we call “I”.
But we do not know the place of this consciousness, cannot find it in our brain, can just conceive of it being elsewhere, transmitted into the body-machine from elsewhere, watchers that are denied the understanding that they are watchers, so to give substance to the experience of reality.
Is this the purpose of the Pineal gland, perhaps, the sender and receiver of information?
(An aside: Do chemtrails limit the ability or function of these transmitters, as perhaps fluoride might? The former acting as a barrier to transmission, the latter coating the gland and limiting its functionality?
We know that random choices, when made, occur somewhere else before the consciousness of a decision makes itself apparent in our conscious minds. Our muscles are already shaping to press button A before we think we have decided to press button A.
Read this and similar if you don’t know what I’m talking about:
Are we two essences in one? Is their inner mind and body-mind? They say we use about 6% of our brains. What does the rest do?
One questions the purpose of the game.
Did we sin?
Are we greater beings sent here to learn good from evil?
Is this a prison?
Could we spend or have we spent a hundred thousand years or a couple of million continuously re-written into the book of life until we learn?
Until we repent?
Until we understand the fruits of the tree of knowledge of good and evil from every angle, from the giving and receiving of both, as perpetrator and as victim?
Were we once trodden on as ants, dropped live into boiling water as shrimps or lobsters, eaten by lions? Have we lived every life of every creature from bacteria upwards in the food chain? Have we stood as trees for centuries to learn patience?
Did we know what it is to be stone, and have forgotten?
Ponder these questions, ponder the nature of reality, of mind and of consciousness, then seek to find the answer.
If you are looking, then you are looking for the answer.
That is what it is to be a truth seeker.
Evidence is accumulated, doubted, analysed, retained or discarded, checked if checking is possible, sorted from the chaff that is existence seeking the wheat that is truth.
The truth is your purpose, your mission, the reason for being.
We might conject that the purpose is to find good, to find love, to live with love as an absolute.
We might ask why else would the creator design such a game?
Perhaps we have that the wrong way around. Perhaps the creator is evil, and desires us to revel in the cesspool of foulness that this world has been and is.
Or perhaps there are two creative players in this game, the split mind of the creator, God and Satan as our legends have it, in one.
Which brings us to free will and to choice, which brings us to this moment, which brings us to the answer and the prize and the next stage in the game.
Which is an act of collective consciousness that can create.
We have this anyway, and exist in the duality of it, and good is losing.
We collectively make our reality.
Forces condition us to believe we don’t, that they are all powerful, that we have little choice, little free will.
But we do.
Free will is the whole of the thing.
But it is the collective free will, the exercise of our collective power as a single consciousness, the Human Spirit as expressed by us all that is the free will I speak of.
WE can choose to make life good.
It is a matter of understanding.
And then of being.
And if we find this cohesion, the core programme that links us, the power that flows from that, can we not create a world of love?
Is that the answer?
Olive Farmer and Aktina Pempti.
Xxx xxx xxx