Lawrence R. Spencer's Blog, page 356
May 23, 2018
TESLA-DETERMINISM
Predeterminism is the idea that all events are determined in advance. Predeterminism is the philosophy that all events of history, past, present and future, have been already decided or are already known (by God, fate, or some other force), including human actions.
The concept of predeterminism implies that there is an unbroken chain of prior occurrences stretching back to the origin of the universe. In the case of pre-determinism, this chain of events has been pre-established, and human actions cannot interfere with the outcomes of this pre-established chain.
“Tesla-determinism” is the observation and opinion of Nikola Tesla (arguably the most intelligent human in the history of Earth) that “Every living being is an engine geared to the wheelwork of the universe. Though seemingly affected only by its immediate surrounding, the sphere of external influence extends to infinite distance.” and “The human being is a self-propelled automaton entirely under the control of external influences. Willful and predetermined though they appear his actions are governed not from within but from without.”
Although humans and other sentient being in the physical universe may be somewhat “self-determined” it is only with the context of a very finite and limited ability to influence the “wheelwork of the universe” of which the existence of all living “engine” is an automaton inextricably linked and predetermined by external influences.
“The gift of mental power comes from God, Divine Being, and if we concentrate our minds on that truth, we become in tune with this great power.”
Example: In the Lensmen Series books, by E.E. Smith, the god-like guardians of civilization know as “Mentor” conceived a “Cosmic All” in which every detail of existence was envisioned and planned in advance. Envisioning and causing every aspect of existence was a game played for the amusement of Mentor.
This idea does not necessarily exclude the notion that “divine” spiritual entities are creating and moving the “gears” of our universe. Telsa was certainly aware of a “Divine Being”. Our ability to determine our own existence depends on concentrating our minds to become in tune with “this great power”. Tesla was certainly a preeminent practitioner of this ability.
~ Lawrence R. Spencer. 2016.
Originally posted 2015-12-30 20:42:23. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
May 22, 2018
THE WAY or NO WAY?
Tao or Dao is a concept signifying ‘way’, ‘path’, ‘route’, or sometimes more loosely, ‘doctrine’ or ‘principle’, or as a verb, speak. Within these contexts Tao signifies the primordial essence or fundamental nature of existence. Tao is thus “eternally nameless”, or Immortal Spiritual Being, and to be distinguished from the countless ‘named’ things which are considered to be its manifestations, as the space, energy and forms of, and within, the physical universe, and other universes.
The Tao Te Ching, Daodejing, or Dao De Jing (道德經: 道 dào “way”; 德 dé “virtue”; 經 jīng “classic” or “text”) is simply referred to as the Laozi. According to tradition, it was written around 6th century BC by the sage Laozi (or Lao Tzu, “Old Master”), a record-keeper at the Zhou Dynasty court, by whose name the text is known in China. The text’s true authorship and date of composition or compilation are still debated, although the oldest excavated text dates back to the late 4th century BC.
Many different translations, versions and interpretations of The Tao have been produced through the past 2,500 years, or so, since the original appearance. Like any “religion”, the “opinions” and “interpretations” of “priests” MODIFY and INTRODUCE FALSE IDEAS into the original. Therefore, I suggest that anyone who wishes to sincerely study The Tao as a body of wisdom, study many difference translations before you decide whether or not any of the many versions of this book point to “the way” or “no way”.
Originally posted 2015-01-13 17:03:05. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
May 21, 2018
PAN-GOD OF THE WOODS, Chapter IV
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Chapter IV
“The soul of man can never be enslaved save by its own infirmities, nor freed save by its very strength and own resolve and constant vision and supreme endeavor!
You will be free? Then, courage, o my brother! O let the soul stand in the open door of life and death and knowledge and desire and
see the peaks of thought kindle with sunrise!
Then shall the soul return to rest no more, nor harvest dreams in the dark field of sleep – rather the soul shall go with great resolve to dwell at last upon the shining mountains in liberal converse with the eternal stars.”
— “Herakles” – George Cabot Lodge (c. 1873 – 1909)
“And in business news today, the Founder and CEO of Nimbus Software, Derek Adapa, was seriously wounded in what was reported to have been a hunting accident in the mountains of northern California early this morning. Mrs. Adapa was not available for comment. Sheriff Bubba Gumshoe of Sasquatch County, California told our correspondent that a continuing investigation is under way but that no arrests have been made in connection with the shooting. Mr. Adapa remains in critical condition at Mercy of Mother Mary hospital at this hour.
In sports, the San Diego Padres today announced the signing of 16 year-old rookie pitcher, Spike Goodarm, to a record 325 million dollar…”.
Jenny flicked off the TV set. The smiling, too well-groomed news anchor person blinked to blackness. Jenny’s thoughts were a twisted frenzy of anguished emotion. Trembling, she tried to steady her hands around a glass of whiskey from the limousine bar. She never drank liquor, but the driver insisted that it would help calm her nerves.
Paula ordered a limousine to pick Jenny up and take her to the airport to meet a private helicopter that would fly her directly to the hospital in less than an hour. Although the office would stay closed for the rest of the day, Paula would be there to handle all important messages and to coordinate communications for Jenny.
Jenny was very glad that Paula was so efficient, but wished she weren’t so pretty. As the limousine pulled onto the runway to meet the waiting jet, she gulped down the drink, shuddered and prayed, “Please god, let Derek be alright”.
* * * * * * * *
“Hey, see you guys! That was great!” Derek called to the dolphins as Pan dragged him away by the scruff of his ghostly neck. The dolphins replied with a raucous concatenation of squeaks and squeals which Derek clearly understood to mean “sure, come back any time!”, as they continued their non-stop swimming party.
“Wow, what amazing creatures they are. Real party animals!”, Derek chuckled childishly. “Hey, where are we going now?”
“I must return to my forest to look after my animals for the night. I perceive that you may be needed as well. Your body still lives. Although you are welcome to stay with me if you wish” said Pan as the forest reappeared beneath them.
“My body’s still alive?! How can it be alive without me? I’m not even in it!” screeched Derek. “Where is it?”
In that instant Pan and Derek hovered above a hospital bed. A nurse sat next to the bed adjusting an I.V. tube dripping fluid into the right arm. Derek’s body looked a little gray, but well enough, considering. It wore a greenish gown covered by a sheet to the waist. The chest had been heavily bandaged after the operation.
The bullets Virgil used were “hollow points”. The bullet entered the body cleanly, but once inside it fragmented and spread out. The left lung had disintegrated and the scapula was shattered. The muscle tissue was shredded where the bullet left the body.
“Derek, your body has some motive force of it’s own. It may survive for some time without you, although it will remain “unconscious”. At some point you must decide if you want to re-inhabit it or not” Pan instructed solemnly.
“Well, of course, I have to go back. I have a whole life left to live…but how do I do it? How do I get back into it?”
“Just think yourself into the body. Just be it, as you learned in the drills”, Pan directed.
Derek reached out to permeate his body. Terrible, agony seared through his being. He recoiled as the body convulsed and the face grimaced briefly with pain. The nurse stood up quickly and pressed a button at the head of the bed.
“Aaaaauugh!” screamed Derek, retreating from the body. “I can’t! There’s too much pain!”
A doctor bustled through the door. “What is it nurse?” he asked urgently.
“The patient seemed to regain consciousness doctor, just for a moment. But he’s gone again now. His vital signs are still stable though.”
After a brief examination of the bandages, and checking the readings of the various instruments monitoring the body the doctor turned to leave.
“The bullet didn’t do as much damage as it could have. It didn’t sever an artery or he would have bled to death before he ever got here. The fast action of those hunters probably saved his life. He’s lucky to be alive. Let me know if anything changes.”
As he opened the door he turned to the nurse again, “That cedar air freshener the cleaning people use in here smells good, doesn’t it?” he said, closing the door behind himself.
“But I’m not alive!” protested Derek. “I mean I’m here and my body is there. I can’t even get near it! Oh god, what am I going to do?”
“Well”, replied Pan, “it seems the best thing to do might be to just let the body rest and heal itself until the pain subsides. It will be alright without you for awhile. Use this time to your advantage.”
“I don’t have much choice right now. It’s too painful” Derek though gloomily.
Grief rose within him as he confronted the sober reality of his situation and the potential loss of his body and a lifetime associated with it.
“Do not grieve my friend” soothed Pan. “Let it rest. We will return to see how the body is doing later”.
“OK. I guess you’re right” Derek thought, resigning himself to his currently unsolvable situation.
* * * * * * * *
Derek had a headache. “Huh?” he thought dully. “How can I have a headache? I don’t even have a damned head “.
“It is a psychosomatic illness. The source of pain is in the mind, not the body”.
“The mind?” Derek objected grumpily. “How can I have a mind if I don’t have a brain either?”
“Do not confuse the brain with the mind, my friend. They are not the same. The brain is merely a spongy mass of nerve tissue which serves the body like a computer circuit board. The mind, however, is made up of mental pictures you carry with you. Some pictures contain memory of pain which can be reactivated in situations similar to the original picture. So you have a headache, without need of a head”.
“Do you remember the first time you had a headache?” coaxed Pan.
Derek remembered, dimly at first: during a too-long business meeting. A hangover the morning after a party. The time he had the flu in high school.
And then with more clarity: when he got hit in the head by a flying baseball bat. He was sitting on the bench. It was the fifth grade. Recess. The playground at Oak Ridge School. Johnny Harris, the smallest kid in the class, took a clumsy swing at the ball and hit a limp grounder toward third. The next thing Derek remembered was laying on a gurney in the hospital emergency room. Unconscious. Hospital. Pain. His head hurt like hell for two days after that.
“Hmmm. I’d forgotten all about that. It was a long time ago. It reminds me…it’s just like…seeing my body in the hospital bed. It was like that time…. Oh, I see!”
Derek’s headache subsided with the recollection of having been in the hospital before.
“I feel better” said Derek, relieved.
“You’re welcome” said Pan. “You have been through a great deal today” Pan said as they reappeared above the forest, now softly lighted by the moon.
“God, you can say that again” agreed Derek without enthusiasm.
“That will not be necessary” replied Pan.
Behind the silver halo of moonlight a multitude of stars blinked minutely. Shadowy shapes stretched against the earth, cast by the rising moon. A breeze swished through the pine tree tops which, oddly, carried the scent of cedar.
A lumbering black bear, too eager for a bedtime snack of honey, upset a hive of bees housed in a rotting tree trunk. From the cloudless, moonlit sky he was severely cuffed by a carefully placed lance of lightning. Stunned, but unharmed, the bear scampered away thinking dimly that the he should bet back to his cave before the storm came.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Awaken!” commanded Pan.
“What the…” Derek started blearily. “Oh, I guess I drifted off for a minute there.”
“Yes. Five hundred and thirty-seven minutes, actually”, replied Pan precisely.
“Really? How’d you know that?”
“There are many ways of knowing time. Time is an illusion based on a measurement of the movement of objects through space. Earth, moon, sun. However, the easiest way to measure time is to use your innate sense of time” explained Pan.
“Ok, whatever. What time is it anyway?” Derek asked groggily.
“It is time to resume your instruction. You must regain your ability to operate without a body. I will help you. Come.” said Pan in his characteristically firm, self-assured, commanding tone. At the same time Pan’s pervading care always made Derek feel as though he was in the company of a life-long friend.
“Where are we going?”
“On a journey. A journey through the past, to help you recall your personal identity.” Pan mused.
At that moment Derek looked down on the land as though he were a soaring bird, high above the earth. He knew this place, though he could not name it.
“As you may recall, these are the ancient cities of Akkad and Sumer. The fertile fields along the alluvial banks of the Euphrates River in southern Mesopotamia, which runs south into the Persian Gulf. To the east lay the foothills of Elam, rising to meet the wild forest of the Zargos mountains” Pan said, directing Derek’s attention.
Across the river to the west stretched a vast sea of sand, the Arabian Desert. On either side of the river stood cultivated date palm orchards and golden fields of waving grain. Herds of grazing cattle, sheep and scattered goats flourished.
“Along the original course of the ancient river lay the cities of Sippar, Kish, Nippur, Uruk and Ur. As time goes by, the river will jump its banks and change course at Sippar, giving birth to the cities of Agade will be the glorious Babylon” Pan continued.
Derek scanned the expanse of ancient civilization below him. Along the river were built several walled cities adjacent to towering mud-brick pyramids called ziggurats.
“These were once called ‘The Staircase to Holy Heaven, said Pan.
“Step-pyramids, supposedly built to provide the gods with a means to descend to Earth from the heavens. A massive mound of earth covered with bricks and painted with iridescent blue facing stone. The temple at the top of each pyramid is built to honor a patron god.” he indicated the immense, precision built structure to Derek by leading his attention westward from the river.
“It was here, a mere 5,000 years ago, I first arrived at the planet Earth. I ruled in these lands and was hailed by all as Enlil, God of Creation, God of Earth and Air. And God of the Underworld: the Unseen Spirits of the disembodied, the once-living, not as yet reborn. I taught my faithful to prepare the earth for planting, to tend and harvest grains and trees.
My people flourished and prospered in the land and traded with regions far away in Egypt and India. Faithful they were to me. They praised my name, keeping my temple staffed with slaves to clean and keep the fires lighted in my honor. The glory of victory in battle was celebrated in my name. I kept my people well and safe from famine and drought.
My people were aware of the spiritual essence of themselves and of the myriad creatures. They perceived and revered the life essence of all living things. Even in the killing of animals for food they gave thanks to the beast for giving up life so that others might live. Purity of thought and action were taught to the young, who respected those who taught them.
Innocent joy and selfless friendship were virtues then. To breath the pure air, to hear the serenade of songbirds, the fragrance of flora, the sunlit sparkle of dew-dampened dawn were passionate experiences. The hearth of heaven heated the invigorated soil to germination and gestation, followed by harvest.
Derek listened intently while scenes of life in the ancient land passed before him. He experienced life in antiquity as though it were present time. Everything that Pan showed him was vividly real and alive.
“My people needed no priests to know me”, Pan continued. “They had no need of idols to symbolize my presence among them. No sacrifices of flesh were made to appease me. To my people I was known as I am: as the Wind is known. My voice was heard by my people as it is heard by you. The voice of one spirit to another. In this way I visited my people.
To those who sought my help I appeared through signs in nature: the wind, the clouds, in storms and gentle rains and through the rich harvest from the earth. They knew my presence through my softly colored aura or by the sweet aroma of pine. To those who called my name I appeared to aid them. Those were happy times. They were as children to me, and I their benevolent father.”
Derek didn’t quite understand how he was perceiving all of this. He had never studied the history of the Middle East. Yet he knew what Pan knew, he thought his thoughts, felt his feelings, lived the memory.
It occurred to Derek that in spite of how astonishing all of this seemed, at the same time, it was quite natural and routine, like actual, living reality. In fact it seemed much more real than any reality he had known before. And so familiar…as though he had been here before.
” Déjà vu “, he guessed.
“Yes, déjà vu “, said Pan.
“Oh, yes, I suppose. Quite a story. Impressive, really”, Derek stammered, not knowing what to think or how to express himself.
“It is no story my friend. It is as you have seen for yourself.” Pan said.
“Uh, yes…I mean, I didn’t mean to say I thought it was a story, like fiction. Just quite a story.” Derek replied.
“Exactly” said Pan.
“It does seem very familiar to me, somehow”, Derek paused in thought, trying to rummage through his own memories for some scrap of recognition, but found nothing certain, only vague emotions.
* * * * * * * *
“OK gentlemen, (sniff) let’s take another run over the area. Officer Johnlaw, you come with me. Officer Peeler, you and Brickman will search from east to west. We will search from north to south.” said Sheriff Gumshoe, pointing a plump finger across the meadow where Derek had been shot.
“Let me remind you once again, gentlemen, that (sniff) persistence is the key to good criminal investigation (achoo!). Now remember, we’re looking for anything that will provide evidence of a premeditated assault on the (sniff) victim. (a-a-a-chooo!)”
Bubba had already given the same speech three times already that morning and at least seven times the day before. The assisting officers in the investigation each swore under his breath as they spread out for yet another search across the trampled ground they’d been scrutinizing for the last 36 hours.
So far, they had accumulated a treasure trove of incriminating evidence. Plastic baggies containing, in order of discovery: 1) one spent rifle shell-casing 2) thirteen cigarette butts 3) 12 beer cans from the campsite. They had also acquired, with effort, the following items: plaster cast impressions of footprints, tire tracks and deer hoof prints. They recovered the weapons the Jaras brothers left behind in their haste to get Derek to the hospital. Derek’s jacket, back-pack, camera, and several bloodied remnants of Derek’s shredded shirt were new evidence.
“All we need (sniff) is that one little piece of evidence. A second shell casing. The boys at the lab will have a field day if they find that both rifles were fired! Those guys probably (sniff) ditched the extra empty shells. But we could find (sniff) one they missed. You know, Jerald, this case could mean a lot to the department and to my career too (aachoo!). Let’s check those tree trunks over there again”. Bubba waved his soaking-wet handkerchief in the direction of a row of small pine trees at the edge of the meadow. “See if you can find were those other bullets hit…(sniff)”.
* * * * * * * *
“If you would like to hear a story, instead of the simple truth of reality, I will tell you a story. It is an ancient and simple story, but you will find it entertaining and instructional. It is the story of how the Evil Ones came to Earth to ruin our tranquility. It is told in the ancient Myth of Homosapus.”
At that moment a 1930’s style movie theatre marquee appeared before Derek, complete with a border of white blinking lights. The story title and cast of characters scrolled up across the marquee like the credits at the end of a movie. Derek thought he even smelled buttered popcorn. In the background music tinkled on an upright piano like they used to play in movie theaters to accompany silent movies. He recognized the tune: “When The Saints Come Marching In”. A Greek Chorus of male voices chanted the words as they appeared on the theater marquee:
“The Pandemic Players
Present:
A Play portraying The Pangenesis of Planetary Perversion
starring a Panoply of Players in:
THE MYTH OF HOMOSAPUS
Derek and Pan hovered together over rows of tiered stone steps cut into a mountainside which formed a circular outdoor amphitheater. The performance was given on a sunny spring day, attended by a capacity audience of men and ladies, gracefully dressed.
The robed members of the chorus stood below in the circular orchestra as they collectively narrated the story being acted behind and above them on the “logeion”. This was the stage built on top of a shallow, colonnaded building called the “proskenion”. Behind the stage stood the “skene” which housed three rooms from which the all male cast entered and exited the stage. The actors were too far away from the audience to be clearly seen, so they each wore a large mask to depict his respective character. The cheerful murmuring of the audience hushed in anticipation as the chorus filed into the orchestra from the doors of the logeion. The play was beginning. The chorus swayed in unison as they chanted the story:
[CHORUS] “From the other side of the our galaxy, a spaceship came when Earth was young. Plague One, was her name and Her unsavory crew was led by Shamanus, The Priest. The craft is halted at the Gate of the Heavens. Our Hero, Homosapus, stands against them alone: the sole Guardian of Man. With his Shield of Truth he challenges the ship, ready to defend us: (entering from stage left Homosapus shouts:)
“Hail! Who goes there?!” (the audience whistles and applauds)
[CHORUS] “See how brave Our Hero is! See how his muscles bulge! See his shiny shield of Truth! See his bold and noble chin. Surely we are safe from harm! Oh, joy! Oh, joy!”
“Hail to you friend! I am Shamanus, High Priest of the Creators. I come with my faithful wife Psychles, my lovely virgin daughter, Donnabella. We seek only to serve our fellow beings.”
(Hoots and jeers from the audience. Several vegetables are thrown onto the stage.)
“Greetings to you sire. Please state your business here” Homosapus replied resolutely.
Shamanus, responding in his most unctuous voice said, “Good sir, we are sent from The Creators to purvey their blessings to the beings of your world.”
(More boos and some rotten vegetables hit the stage)
“Hold! I have been Guardian of the Gates of Earth since the Beginning of Time”, Homosapus replied unimpressed, “yet I have not heard of these Creators of yours. Of what benefit could such an association be to anyone here on Earth?”
(Cheers, applause)
[CHORUS] ” See how Shamanus is abashed by our wary Hero. Homosapus reigns supreme!”
“We have traveled long and far seeking you my child. We bring the gifts of the Creators. Come to my ship, that I might show the glories of the Creators to you. Shamanus paused gravely, saying, “You must lay down your Shield of Truth while you enter our ship. There is no room for it within”.
[CHORUS] “ We know Our Hero will not submit! He cannot be so easily tricked. His Shield protects us still.”
However, Homosapus, having no other duties at the moment and overwrought with the monotony of his post of guarding a planet that was never visited by anyone, thought no harm could come of this apparently innocent diversion. After all, he’d been guarding the Gates of Heaven for all Eternity so far and he needed a break. So, laying down his Shield, which he had, heretofore, never been without, enters Plague. (shouts from the audience of “No! Don’t do it!” and “Stop, you fool!”)
[CHORUS] Oh, fie! What treachery is this? What abandonment of duty? Why are we forsaken thus? How can he leave his Shield of Truth without?”
The doorway was so low that Homosapus had to prostrate himself in order to enter the inner sanctuary of the vessel.
“Please excuse me for a moment so that I might alert my wife to prepare a refreshment to honor our guest”, Shamanus said.
(exits stage right followed by boos and hoots from the audience)
[CHORUS] “Oh see how he conspires to outwit Our Hero. But never fear. Homosapus will not be duped!”
(Shamanus enters stage left)
“Donnabella, go into the outer sanctuary where you will find the Guardian of the Gate of Heaven, Homosapus. Entice him to accept this cup and drink from it. Tell him that the drink will renew his strength and vigor”.
[CHORUS] “See how the evil Psychles prepares a chalice of fragrant liqueur, carefully laced with drugs. Beware, Our Hero! Beware!”
(The Chorus swoons to their knees with hands upon their brow.)
“Once our guest recovers from the unconsciousness caused by the drink” Shamanus continued, “entertain our guest so that he will desire your favors and become amenable to us”.
[CHORUS] “She how Donnabella prepares herself with cosmetic cover-ups. She her curvaceous form beneath the see-through gown. Our Hero greets her graciously and accepts the offered cup. What naiveté! What wicked ways! Pray that He will catch on to the trick and save us!”
(Donnabella enters stage left)
“Homosapus, you seem so familiar to me. Your face is more pleasing than any I have seen before. Have we ever met?” (someone in the audience shouts “Don’t fall for that line you fool!”)
[CHORUS] “See how the whore is blushing. Her cup is raised to make a toast. She hopes to do Our Hero in!”
“May we remain in close proximity, but mystery, forever”, said Donnabella (Screams from the audience of “Stop!” and “No!” Several women in the audience faint and are carried out.)
[CHORUS] ” The Cup! The Cup! She how he drinks! He is oblivious! Who knows what tragedy he brings upon us all!”
(The Chorus slumps prostrate, on the floor of the stage, weeping.)
“I drink to the enduring health of Shamanus and to the surpassing beauty of his daughter. (The crowd boos loudly. More debris is thrown on stage).
Homosapus reels and spins, slumping to the floor as the cup slips from his hand.
“Anyone whose daughter is so lovely must be worthy on our trust…”Homosapus said.
In that instant the potion cleansed his memory and with it, all knowledge of his true identity and all future hope for Man.
[CHORUS] (raising themselves to their elbows) “Injury enough we’ve suffered not. Shamanus has won! Lo, he has overwhelmed our Guardian! Guile and treachery cast salt upon our open wounds and treads us under foot! Oh, spare us! Spare us from our doom!”
Shamanus spoke with the polished elocution of his trade:
“We, having been sent forth to Man by The Creators, come to you humbly as their chosen servants and messengers. Though The Creators live far beyond the ken and view of Earth, they remain One with us always.
We were sent to Earth to teach the Will of The Creators, that Man might have concourse, through Us, with them. In as much as The Creators have been and will always be The Creators, who know all, see all and tell all, we, as Their humble servants, are instructed to deliver The True Word to the men of Earth.
[CHORUS] “Shamanus now rules the world. Our Hero is no more. Oh, woe to Us! The Deed is done! Oh, woe! Our Doom is sealed!
Shamanus enters center stage, draped in flowing robes. He wears a crown of gold and jewels, with matching sepulcher:
“Hear now the Word of The Creators:
“Man is an Animal, Flesh and Dust. Like the beasts of Earth is he. He has no say in his destiny.
It is not for Man to understand, but merely to obey the will of The Creators and their Servants.
You must yet evolve to a higher state. As everyone knows, you are evil, unless controlled. Yet, Man in his lowly state, may someday complete his own perfection through compliance with the Will of The Creators.
Only The Servants of The Creators know Their Will. Learn The Way to Truth through them.”
[CHORUS] “Oh my, we are impressed with his noble dress and rhetoric! See him gesture and genuflect with such drama effect! Our Hearts are one, Our trust is won. The Creators are the Ones!”
(A storm of rotten vegetables, stones and pot shards are thrown on to the stage from the audience.)
All the actors file on to the stage center to take a bow and exit. The Chorus marches off the stage with heads bowed in cadence to a Dixieland band which plays a mournful arrangement of “Nearer My God To Thee”.
The stage and amphitheater are left in shambles and clutter. The marquee lights dim and fade…
— THE END —
“You may applaud now”, said Pan, concluding his apocalyptic presentation.
“Great!” complimented Derek, clapping with imaginary hands. “That was the saddest story I’ve ever heard! But I didn’t understand one thing: who are The Creators?”
“An excellent question” replied Pan, enjoying the fact that Derek had paid attention to his mythological skit.
“You realize, of course, that the characters in this story are all purely allegorical and are not intended to represent any actual persons or professions, unless of course, they actually do. Inadvertently, of course.”
“Oh, sure, of course…right” replied Derek.
“However, I can well image that The Creators might not be unlike the sort of beings who operate covertly to control Man for their own interests: priests, politicians, the press, bankers, lawyers. Their game is the same, regardless of the guise. Any being who seeks to control the minds of men for personal gain.
They move surreptitiously, hidden from view. Their actions are disguised. Their words are duplicitous. The rotting stench of their crimes is perfumed by pretended benevolence toward the very people they enslave.
Fortunately, the light of truth is as deadly to them as sunshine to a vampire. The only power they truly possess is the power granted by each of us who, through apathy, inaction and irresponsibility, give them a license to endure. In this way, every man places the shackles of servitude around his own neck.”
“Oh…, well, of course…” said Derek.”
____________
Originally posted 2011-04-15 21:39:21. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
May 20, 2018
HUMAN FAILURES
THROUGHOUT THE BRIEF HISTORY OF HUMANITY THE SECRET INTENTION OF BEINGS WHO WISH TO CONTROL HUMAN ACTIVITY, I.E. THE SELF ANOINTED ECONOMIC, RELIGIOUS, POLITICAL AND MILITARY “LEADERS” OF HUMAN “CIVILIZATION”, IS TO SUSTAIN SELF-SERVING AND SELF-DESTRUCTIVE CONTROL OF MINDS AND BODIES THROUGH SECRECY, SUPERSTITION AND BRUTALITY. THE RESULTING SUPPORT OF “LEADERS” BY “FOLLOWERS” IS THAT EVERY HUMAN CIVILIZATION ON EARTH WAS FORMED, DECAYED AND DISAPPEARED WITHIN ONLY A FEW HUNDRED OR A FEW THOUSAND YEARS: A BLINK OF THE COSMIC EYE.
THE GLOBAL NETWORK OF PREHISTORIC PYRAMIDS, AND RELATED STONE MONOLITHS, INDICATE THE USE OF “ADVANCED TECHNOLOGY” BY MYSTERIOUS BUILDERS WHO DISAPPEARED AGES AGO. DEVASTATION OF EARTH USING SIMILAR “ADVANCED TECHNOLOGY”, WHETHER BY DESIGN OR IGNORANCE, IS GUIDING THE HUMAN ANIMAL TOWARD EXTINCTION.
THE ONLY CONSTANT IN THIS UNIVERSE IS CHANGE. AS INDIVIDUAL SPIRITUAL BEINGS THERE ARE NO “LEADERS” TO GUIDE US THROUGH THE REST OF ETERNITY EXCEPT OURSELVES.
– Lawrence R. Spencer, 2017
Originally posted 2017-05-24 01:24:02. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
May 19, 2018
May 18, 2018
SACRIFICE
Sex and Religion are a sacrifice of the present self for the hope of perpetual existence in the future.
~ Lawrence R. Spencer ~
Originally posted 2012-05-30 10:39:51. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
May 17, 2018
DELUSION
“The delusion of Man is that reality is not an illusion. One who creates illusions and makes them more real than reality, follows the path of the spirit and finds the way of heaven.”
— Lao Tzu —
Originally posted 2013-05-21 10:58:24. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
