Dog Poet Transmitting.......
At this given moment in the course of our brief history, in this brief incarnation of temporary residence, for the purpose of appetite, desire, some kind of ambition... but in all cases, as an opportunity to pay the bill for previous appetites, desires and ambitions, or to experience new ones, we are present in a dreamscape. This dreamscape is woven like a web, or a tapestry. It is accordion like and it unravels like a scroll, over a particular reach of time. Just like a web, this dreamscape vibrates and attracts the attention of other entities moving along the web. The key term here is vibration. This is how like attracts like and that out-plays as experiences, with other people, interacting with the residents of every realm, invisible life forms and forces as well as the creations of Lady Nature; be they natural... like forest and mountains and seashore, or unnatural, like cities and towns. There are implements of technology that move between the natural and unnatural, or only within the parameters of one.
There are dividing lines that exist in the dreamscape and they are of many different types. There are seasons in Nature and there are larger seasons that are called ages and they each have their measured reach. Characters appear to play particular roles and the kind of dramas they take part in can be significantly antithetical, or contradistinctive from what precedes and what follows each of them. Ergo you get your 'clash of civilizations' and cultures, lifestyles and what have you. Certain episodes of interaction appear in early portions of the age, or culture, or whathaveyou and certain episodes appear in the latter stage. This can vary widely.
Surely you are seeing the sad results of bad parenting in these times. There is a rule in life that says, if you do not employ discipline on yourself and your offspring... bad results are certain. This is because a lack of discipline leads to a culture of excess. It behooves any thinking person to reflect on this feature of our times. A certain kind of persona has forced its zombies forward in the drama. They have created an army of the reckless, demanding and terribly uninformed. They have hijacked the educational systems and are programming those for whom real education was an afterthought (if at all) and have loosed them upon the rest of us.
This period of history is a bump in the road. Astrologers and metaphysicians call it a cusp period. Since it is a demarcation line between two ages that last for 2200 years, the cusp period runs around 200 years; before you are fully into the next age. A considerable amount of upheaval and chaos occurs as the archetypes and infrastructure morph into their next representative state of being. We're near the end point of this cusp and once that's gone, so will all of these creatures be gone and where they may physically remain, their influence will be nil. We just have to be patient.
It is a COMMON CIRCUMSTANCE in every cusp period for the appearance of revolutionary actors. Some amount of these are highly desirable contributors to new ways of thinking and living. Others are rampaging nihilists who, having found no (and not having looked) meaning in their own lives, have declared there is none elsewhere either, or have declared that certain awful transitions must take place to manifest a system where they are, finally, all equal and the rest of us are not.
All too few of us possess the capacity for self introspection and higher reasoning faculties. All too few of us possess that impartial objectivity that makes an understanding of deeper issues possible. The majority of us are blown hither and yon by the winds of appetite and the fires of desire. These are easily convinced of all manner of absurdities, as can be clearly seen by those possessing the qualities previously mentioned.
Off stage and hidden from the immediate line of sight, are those who play upon atavistic fears and desires of the people, most especially, they prey upon the minds of the disenfranchised, or those who've not accumulated what they wanted in life, either through an insufficiency of intelligence or drive, or imagination. They stoke the darker passions of these people, inflaming prejudices and telling lies, about all that they declare has been stolen from them, denied them, or not permitted for them and this includes not only objects and station in life but also... kinds of behavior. These manipulators control the avenues by which information is disseminated. They control the industries of entertainment, where certain lifestyles are lauded or promoted and others are decidedly not. They control the mediums through which Art is marketed and this gives them authority to determine what is... and what is not... Art.
Ultimately, in a relative sense, this confers a power upon these manipulators to define what is real and what is not real; what is desirable and what is undesirable, what is right and what is wrong, who should be elevated and who diminished... honored or dishonored. It CAN SEEM as if they are firmly in the driver's seat and little can be done about it. One is advised that they must conform to the pleasure of the Overlord, who dictates the acceptable and unacceptable protocols of life. This is, like everything is, only temporary. It is... in the common vernacular, BULLSHIT.
These manipulators and profiteers are, empowered in their season, for only the length of that season. This is why they are such busy little bees of the moment. They know that their sell by date is soon to pass. They know that one is coming who is going to set aright all that they have knocked and encouraged to go out of kilter. A time is coming, when the poisonous cloud of confusion and stupidity, shall be dispersed. This will, most definitely, result in an awakening. The people will rub the residue of dream dust from their eyes and ask... "What happened?" "Where was I?" Their eyes, having been opened, will clearly see who it was that ensorcelled and bewitched them. In that short moment there will be a rush of air, trailing in the passage of the manipulators, fleeing for the hills and the following rage of those now released from their stupor.
It's just a bump in the road my friends. The previous century and more, has been a Grand Guignol of horrific murders and pillaging, the like of which had never been previously seen. Even in the times of Tamerlane and the Khans's, it did not reach anything like the scale of what has most recently passed. Now... the befuddlement and somnambulism are destined to fade like the morning dew upon the grass because another sun, a spiritual sun, is set to shine upon the human heart and mind and all things are to be made Gnu.
I have been waiting... anticipating... for most of the extent of my life for this time to come upon us. I've been mostly awake. At first I had the initial problems of running into the sleepers, who passed on all sides, as well as the perception disability that my comestibles conferred upon me. I needed to slow down. It took longer than it should have for the toreador aspect to come forth. It's been fair smooth sailing since.
Some changes take a very long time. The process is beyond the comprehension of most; like the rising and falling of a mountain... antediluvian... primordial changes. Interestingly, the changes in us, from our first inception, to the realization of Godhead, occurs over an even greater spread of time. It is like the brief puffs of air in every breath, as if they were each a lifetime and the totality of all of the breaths in a lifetime of average length, being the stretch from inception to realization. As hard as it may be to believe, in some cases it is more than that, even much more than that.
The mysterious workings of the cosmos take place over an unimaginable stretch of time and the whole of a cycle, is no more than a single breathing out and in of the divine. That is creation... an out breathing, followed by an inhale with a pause between at either end. The divine expresses outward into everything and then gathers itself all up again. No mind can grasp this and our thousands upon thousands of incarnations amount to nothing at all. Until realization occurs it is no more than a dog chasing its tail. How many ever tumbled to one of the last things the Lord Buddha said, "I will return in 500 years." Go ahead... do the math.
When you think about the enormous periods of time and the scrabbling of appetites all along the way. There are the massive stomachs of the dinosaurs and the progression until now and still.... appetite...desire and ambition. Once it may have been a tearing, rending and chewing, a panting pursuit after sexual union, the scrimmaging of armed men and who would be king. Only the objects and methods of performance have changed. The nature and objectives of the passions have not.
Now we observe the fury of literal insanities, seeking a preeminence over a competing madness... bones in the nose to studded rings in the nose, shaggy manes to purple hair... perhaps some changes in the image and quality of the tattoos but... savages none the less. One of them obvious and apparent and the other disguised by a thin veneer of pretended civilization. Thank God for the hidden hand of inspired and divine reason that here and there appears.
He/She (heh heh- preferred pronouns; really ought to be 'it' and 'that') finally achieves when they abandon the field of play and walk away from every promise and lie, walk away from every object of desire and from desire itself... walk away in one's own variant of Lao Tzu on the water buffalo... walk away to that sheltered glade at Cold Creek, to sleep the dreamless sleep of the realized and to purify the ears. To hear or see no more of the corruptions of the euphemistically civilized. Ah... to be free of all this. Still... one in Jivanmukti Duty must serve on the way. Let the lies and perversions fall where they may and hear and see them not at all... simply smiling, in the childlike delight, of seeing God face to face in everyone you meet.
Today's Song is;
♫ No Tracks When They Go ♫
Should you have need of pedestrian trivia, sprinkled over the deeper possibilities of thought, you might want to come by Pocketnet but bring that Archaeologists brush. This would be your portal in-
BEAMED FROM THE SAUCER POD BY VISIBLE AT 02:24