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None Of Tomorrow’s Parties

The image of a paragraph posted inside my last piece was taken from a CIA document, composed in 1983 and originally cleared for public consumption in 2003, concerning a program from the agency’s experimentations in exploiting mental powers for the purposes of such purely apple pie antics as remote spatial viewing, remote temporal viewing, and out of body occurrences. I included it because it detailed how I and my philosophy are a “force without limit, without dimension, without the limits of form”. There was another segment which described reality not as a physical thing but as a movement, like the flowing of waters. Its wording there was highly comparable to a large portion of my biggest DMT voyage, in which I experienced the universe as an Arabic rug whose designs were in constant motion, no forms but the flow itself manifesting all shapes, all constructs, with all of everything flowing and pulsating in waves universally together none the less. I was seeing the dance of atoms.

For the most part, the doc was overtaxing the terminology of “vibrations” which was unfortunately common in the many New Age cults that were big in that late 70s/early 80s era. Which I attribute to prospective cat-ladies needing to get shook, from around 5 inches deep between their legs. Vibrating like channeling power crystals for the secrets of the universe and similar nonsense. It is very possible the author of the doc simply lacked the vocabulary to explain their own processes. Government workers are legally retarded, after all, in that special Nuremberg principles sort of manner which accredits the truth of how money and power exist exclusively for those lacking imagination, skill or talent.

Likewise and elsewhen, a subset of other cultists, so obsessive over programming potential AI with machine-learning, are reaching out to the general public to flesh out predictive algorithms, in the form of a new online social network focused entirely on trying to predict future events. Best case scenario, this is just another scheme to cultivate without returns the dreams and theories of its users. Although, I did have a fun nightmare a couple of nights back, where all of mankind’s online crap was the surreptitious machinations of a dark, alien god to get us to rebuild itself in our dimension. Roughly 5 decades of our communicating by way of a physically formless, technological telepathy, luring more and more of the masses in to create a massive datafile collecting all of human experience, thought and emotion, to be applied towards and programmed into this Artificial Intelligence which, like the dancing atoms of that CIA document, will give shape and construct for this nefarious beast which destroyed countless realities before our ticket came up. Imagine Johnny Depp’s computer scientist character from that Christopher Nolan movie, only as a costume worn by this thing, like the puppet brought to life by the creature’s fisting. If I were to put on a Dick Nixon mask and rob a bank, it would not be Dick Nixon robbing that bank.

For that matter, to indulge in a brief and preferably offensive side trip, imagine that your great, great, great grandfather robbed a bank, but was never punished. Would it be right for you to pay the piper, for sins of your ancestor which you played no part in whatsoever? Then how does restitution make any lick of sense, where some would profit from troubles they played no part in themselves? To be sure, the slave-masters owe the slaves, for the lives, liberty and pursuits of happiness stolen away, but then, they are all dead now. It is no less unjust to be rewarded for the actions of another, as it is to be punished for the actions of another. If injustice cannot rationally cross time, then why should justice? Cherry-picking a reality we are expected by mass consensus to share in is absolute madness. Anything we would ever hope to know of the future has already happened, so reality, including the history we all might easily observe if only we get our noses out of black mirrors and the plenitude of needless memes inhabiting it, is very much an all or nothing thing.

Of far greater and more realistic use than another social network, which nobody needs, is this thing created by some of Peter Sunde’s rave buddies, a free, temporary and anonymous webmail. Which in turn brings me to a story idea which I will never explore. Imagine a digital social network where each and every account is the same person, only from alternate realities. Closer to your own circle would be the vaguely different, such as the you who had tuna for lunch yesterday instead of chips, though in every other possible way the two realities are one and the same and wholly indistinguishable. Same insane Trump tweets, same patterns of dust on Saturn’s non-icy moons, and the World Serpent still 69ing itself until the last night. Further out would be the you from a reality where Earthers are 20′ celery stalks, gurgling to each other on stalkish message boards about how stupid the latest comics to film adaptation’s casting choices of that particular reality inherently are. But all of you, some more than others, are aware of this most bizarre conformity, of this website where all users are literally the same person. And notes get shared thusly, screenplays shared and dating tips shared and assassination plots get shared, almost as often as disagreeable profiles undergo flame-wars by more sensible profiles for having the wrong opinions. Contrasted with that Martian moon slowly being populated by diverse clones of Elon Musk and what comes of it hundreds of profoundly inbred generations after the fact. No wait, I’m sorry, that’s a few realities right of center.