It’s been said that harmony is the prerequisite to beauty and Pythagoras was into harmony. He came up with the concept of the ‘music of the spheres’ and developed it into a system, a science or a theory; as you prefer. I began to study in the occult and metaphysical sciences at a pretty early age and that’s where I got my concepts and understanding of history. It is amazing how much divergence there is between official, state approved history and occult history. Not much happened the way we’ve been told and the point of that is to keep us uniformed and confused, as well as to make us accept present day injustices, justified by previous events that never happened or certainly didn’t happen the way we’ve been told.
Some things you can’t question without fear of a prison sentence. You never get a really good explanation for this because... well, because there aren’t any.
This kind of manufactured thought control is for the purpose of crowd control and also a license to steal and assume exclusivity. It’s interesting to note that nothing in Nature is exclusive in the same way. Everything works together and maintains a general balance, which is a prelude to harmony which is a prelude to beauty. These days there are no more guidelines for beauty and symmetry and the classical view is often considered passé and unhip. Some pretty ugly things are considered beautiful now and the extremes press outward by the day.
Back in the more civilized times of Pythagoras, there were deeper understandings which were shared by those industrious and diligent enough to discover them. I wish I presently lived in another time because in this one, the ruling family is King Trivia and Queen Banal and the anus is an organ of speech.
My understanding of the music of the spheres is the sounds generated by the planets rubbing against each other. I’ve even felt and heard it when in a heightened state of awareness; thank god for psychedelics. Some people don’t like me mentioning these things. They’re quite comfortable with more dangerous and less enlightening substances but as for the hidden side of the mind and heart’s potential, they’ve got too much daddy and mommy in their heads. By now they’ve turned into their parents and lay the same crap on their children’s consciousness that got laid on theirs.
In more rarified times one wouldn’t need psychedelics and if one were to be lucky enough to have the attentions of a real spiritual master they wouldn’t need them either but this is a period of dense materialism and it can be very hard to see outside of it at times; not that that bothers most people who prefer the variety and pleasures of the mortal body appetites.
One thing I have noticed that is different between an altered state and ordinary consciousness is that in the former I am very aware that the ineffable loves me. In ordinary consciousness I am often not certain of that and it puzzles me. In the altered state I hear wonderful things and am assured over and over of the affections of the universe and the ruling consciousness. In ordinary consciousness I am often threatened and messed with. I wonder why that is?
The altered state is more real than the ordinary consciousness and that’s something I’m certain of and no argument will sway me; much less, the arguments of people who have no experience in these matters. That’s another thing I find simply amazing; how people who have no experience and no reference points can be so damned sure of something they know nothing about when some of us have many years of direct experience in these matters. They might want to read this if they have the patience. It makes for a good argument and I’ve copies for those who have the temperament for it.
This isn’t about getting high or being straight. I’m just setting up a scenario so that I can explore this condition; the condition where one state of mind presents the universe as a conscious and loving entity and the other generates uncertainty and fear. I’ve come to believe that there is a material consciousness that is interposing itself between us and the true version of what is. Something unpleasant has hi-jacked a particular segment of bandwidth and is broadcasting negative messages that aren’t real.
Because of what’s coming the planets are in a certain relationship to each other and the music they are giving voice to is disconcerting. It’s shaking things up on surface and on deeper levels. It’s become near impossible in present time to maintain a consistent sense of harmony; speaking only for myself at the moment. I have to take steps to shield myself, which is difficult because I blew a lot of those shields away in an effort to get beyond the gravitational pull; outside the deceptive network of time and the temporal. I’m a sitting duck in some ways.
If you’re not being harassed it could be that it isn’t necessary since you are already in the paddock or are wearing the collar of cooperation. Once you have the collar of cooperation on and the heplock drip line you don’t require special attention and you can do your time at the Paris Hilton or in line at the social services until your next posting is announced.
I’ve become adept at a few small things and dancing is one of them and I will tell you that the dances of the moment require a lot of fancy footwork and the larger portions doesn’t involve the feet. There’s the sensation of being two dimensionalized in a forty ton press... if you’re not careful. Life has become something of an apple press. So what do you do? You keep your head down and remind yourself that you really are loved, no matter how hard it might be to feel it. It’s like a 24/7 replay of that footprints in the sand routine without the comfort of the understanding.
It’s going on two years for me now with barely a respite overall. You know how it is when you have back pain and become less tolerant of people? I don’t have back pain but it’s like that. Part of you wants to lash out just for the exercising of the tension but that doesn’t lead anywhere except into the Valley of Self Recrimination. You only have to go there a few times before you realize you don’t want to go back. You carry your wound and you hold your mud and you grow a stiff upper lip.
I’ve never seen it to be as difficult as it is now and easily as difficult to find the necessary palliatives and comestibles. I think I got put in Al Gore’s lockbox with the missing social security and I can hammer on the lid all I want. The usual portals provided by prayers and chants are sealed and you can bet this is going to prompt some Jesus junkie to set me straight on why. One things is for sure, I’ll take where I am any day over anything they are hawking because that is another collar of control and heplock drip line only it’s got big hair and a gold watch.
I’m not meaning to depress you folks out there but merely to articulate what I think a lot of us are feeling so that you don’t feel like the Lone Ranger. We’ll get through this I don’t doubt but it does appear that what we have been anticipating and in some cases dreading has finally made its way to the ‘any day now’ demographic.
I wish I could offer you shelter from the storm but that’s not my department. My department is to tell you that there is one even if I can hardly see it much of late. I know it’s there because I have seen it and some things you have to take on faith and this is one of those times. Whatever is going into operation is relevant to those it applies to.
Sometimes when you are digging you hit a layer of rock. There’s no telling how deep it runs but you have to bore through it cause that’s how it is. The hardest thing in the world is to keep going when the highway feels too long. You could fall down and die by the side... and some do or... you can keep on keeping on and that seems to be the mindset of the day and it is damn well going to be in place tomorrow too and the day after that and the day after that. I’ll see you up the road.
The New Shangri La