Hi everyone. I have something sweet for you today. It will be next week before I am able to give you the free book at which time you can assess the axiomatic basis beneath our sacred theories in science. If you want something a bit more interesting to chew on you may click below for a deep new essay detailing the history, neuroscience and psychology of social control, and the answer.
Behind the Human Veil:
I detest complaint without a solution. Nothing is so weak or tiresome. I will soon make a post or three of the essay linked above, but not now. I will soon hand over information about the deadly environmental deception behind the push for hydrogen fuel…but not now. Soon, you will have new information about the problem of nuclear waste and who makes money not to solve it, and then…how it may be solved––but not now. All the new facts I uncover, leave me shaking my head. Read the linked essay for a glimpse at the basis of human error, the reason, and solution. I must look above and return home, before I go into the matter. Today, I will show you something different than what you see all around you. If you are part of the circus of sound, need, greed and human excess, and are still tossed about until you are seasick upon wave after foolish wave…this may be refreshing, or hopeful. In truth this post is a selfish thing. It is I who require respite, before revealing even more of the uncomfortable fact. Such clear degeneration, and so little sight. One can survive the mayhem which surrounds us…one may leave, and begin anew. Perhaps then, we might find strength enough to look again, and answer the sight which assaults. Here, I will show you, how one may survive:
Once long before hope, I took the subway. Eyes stuffed into unseeing faces, looking away, and in between stale air filled with thick breath, one must sup, and take the poison deep within, to breathe. No one will look, and all see, for the best courtesy is found in not seeing aloud. The doors open, and a giddy rush of freedom and hot new wind flood into the cramped car. Beneath ground, the jumble of hands and stiff shirts crush time and crowd into the stairwell, but I am faster, and never wait in lines…escape!
I find the motorcycle where she was left, and prod her heart to life. She is sleek and vicious, far above the bleary eyed thick scented multitude of sheep and cattle, and soon her heart races and tears as a song of hammering metal brought to life. Over the waves of stink and heat she sings and howls in joyous pain, heat rising as mirage over black asphalt, she cuts the waves of clear heat with a screaming voice of anguish, and I accelerate, threading between docile walls of tottering cars, hammering into time, cutting it, flawlessly splitting the distance between dull bricks of metal in inches perfectly measured…needles are best threaded at well past 90, and today, I am a slippery taylor, cutting the fabric of time into split sheets of torn hope, tearing at any speed into any future, any place but this present, trapped here, as light might be made slow, and suffocated.
Nothing is so sensible as traveling 100 mph between lines of stale traffic. If there is a limit set, let us shatter it dead. No risk is too great, no cost too daring or too high. Anything, is rightly spent to leave this slow, sunken, dull world. Anything. All who would be contained, have been sentenced, and spent. We may pity them.
Today I wake, and feel tender sound purring within my eye, water slips and trickles through damp stony cup, her reflection dancing upon my wall of cloth as amber sparks. She speaks and teases, retreating and shining, holding the bud of dawn as a glad whisper in shifting shade. No one, is near. Can you hear, the leaves shifting and shuffling, in the distant wind…so high above us? I can hear her, holding time, damp and sweet, calling in delicate whispers, inviting the sun. Slowly–––the sun does spread her hearth upon the arch above, and tease the day to waking, her heart of amber gold spread upon dancing silver ripples, so she may know them. Each second, unthinking and perfect, wanton and thick with scent and sound…finds purpose and measure within the full breast of moments.
There is no wretched excess, spitting poison into crowded air…there is no hunger to escape, and shout, die and live, rather than suffer within the tomb of want…there is no jumble of ugly hands and creased folds of money to fill the lust of men. The vile world, has ended.
Did you know, people are so ill, they believe science…and literature, and reading…are work? It is true. There is much suffering, and disease in the world.
The miles stretch beneath my legs, and so miles are spent before the taste of food finds worth. Two meals each day are enough, for an active life. Ahhh….the worthy body, never rests too long, and the mind is then, but a plaything. Light, is in motion!
We must choose! Bounty awaits. The leaves of perfect day have been opened, and now, within the labyrinth, desire finds succor. So voluptuous and full is life!
Now the privilege is mine and so, she opens the heart of all secrets up for me so I may be allowed sweetly within, the forbidden places. To read, is a bliss and a treasure to be unfolded, and each day, I choose three new papers, and slowly, begin to enjoy––new knowledge. To read…is to know. Is this not happiness? How ill is the world of man, not to see this thing? Pity, is the only possible reply, to such illness.
Within the most intricate details of forbidden fact, the perfect moment is nurtured, and slowly, builds…until, ripe fruit bursts, and the knowledge is mine. Each new understanding, is but time made too sweet to refuse. To solve a new riddle, is the highest happiness, save that which belongs to nature and her bounty.
While I may never live to see this knowledge placed upon the table of man, for his table is laid in greed, I know this thing rightly––the answer, the answer is mine. So warm, is the hearth of knowledge.
There is a moment where no clock grates; there is a world where no engine screeches; there is peace, and knowledge…if not for them, then for us.
Will I ever succeed in creating a network where profit and poison are eliminated, using fields to affect the water within our bodies, and the tissues which are intertwined within aqueous cohesion? Will I be permitted to create a new approach to medical practice, and alleviate the poisons, and vile greed: for I could surely do this thing. I have this knowledge. I may well be prevented, for many slick pennies will be removed from greedy fists. The world, is as it is. What good I may make of it, is unknown. What I do know, is that I will never, never suffocate within the glittering lie––again.
Next week, new science.
You may contact me through the staff contact page at Mind magazine: www.mindmagazine.net
This work is the sole property of the author, Rich Norman © 2016, and is used by this forum with both permission and gratitude.