Show down – a fiction.

The above picture is from the cover of a work of fiction, written in 1981 about a time of global crisis with a backdrop opening of the resignation of a Pope and the appearance of an enigmatic therapist.

Mankind lives a fiction written by history. My whole life experience brings to life much of a fiction written by another, about a phenomenon anyway that many write off as a fiction but which is now in terms of West’s narrative setting, writing itself as fact in the crisis ridden global news bulletins 24/7.

This video about Subud by J G Bennett is pertinent also to provide a context.

Here below is another work of fiction from me this time ….

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As the orthodox structures of governance and the comparative importance of people by measurement of money and networked power to influence contracts continues to unravel, there will be a window of opportunity opened for the Old Guard to pass through.

The message of the presence of Spiritual Masters on Earth has long been surmised and recorded by writers from all cultures.

https://qr.ae/pNjm8s

The Masters never appear it seems unless there are great and compelling reasons so to do. The 21st century Master who draws the short straw is sure to be faced with the usual barrage of interrogation.

The politicians and religionists are bound to accuse any appearing contemporary Pied Piper of fraud by placing before said appearance their requirements of the usual sets of proofs and demonstrations that a real Master would in their view be able to deliver to them easily.

They might say something like,

“Do something then to show us proof of your Higher Power’s actual existence if you want us to believe that you have a message that we must accept.”

At this point, at this particular time, a Master will turn the table and the failing leaders will be hemmed in by that which they used to mock at, as The Qur’an says.

The Master might say something like,

“I don’t have to do anything, I and my ilk are already doing it. Mankind’s cultures are hanging onto coherence at this time despite your best efforts, not because of them. The slaughterers amongst you are only held back from full blown mayhem by Us. It is our stopping doing that you should be really concerned about if you could only see past your self-obsessed reliance on money, but you never have in the past.

If We, receptive in Our utter service to The Almighty’s command, withdraw Our restraint from you then you will completely destroy yourselves in a full blown weaponising of your particular hypocritical version of your God’s religion or of your intellectual hubris that is communism.

Hitherto you have been continuing in the partial asymmetric destruction that you foist onto each other, which you imagine that you can control, and you pretend that you are straining to stop yourselves from rapid escalations of physical warfare. You actually strain against Us.

If you want further illusions to feed and increase your sense of certainty that I and my ilk are fictional, then call in the well-rehearsed entertainers like David Blane or Uri Geller, call in the medical Crash Teams with their miraculous paddles to bring the dead back to life, call in the robot makers and the artificial-intelligence proponents to disinfect the suppurating soul of your electoral rôle play, call in your billionaire spacemen to show Us what you expect should you really be expected to change your ways via a Higher Power’s messenger.

If We decide that this Epoch-change is irrevocably doomed, then We simply stop Our support. You leaders will simply deteriorate into your unstoppable protocols as your international brinkmanship is unleashed into its hypocritical inevitability. We have been at this Atlantean point before.”

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I hope that you found the piece entertaining.

Sometimes when assessing a work of fiction, an interviewer might ask an author how much of themselves is actually in the work, in particular characters?

The author of a fictional piece is free to reply or not to reply to such a question. The reader can work it out with diligence, as both The Buddha and Saint Paul advised on their respective legacies given to adherents with a need to know security pass.

Post script added 18/07/21

Message reissued

Who is the writer?

.@bbcburnsy @guardian @POTUS @PutinRF_Eng @HassanRouhani @theresa_may @Pontifex @DalaiLama @netanyahu
The pulse
The repulse
The impulse
The compulse
Driving beats
Propelling existence
Attracting and repelling
Gravity and friction
The diction of experience.
What repulses you about yourself
Hardens your heart to similar others
What attracts you to yourself
Softens your heart to similar others
(Totalitarian regimes insult
The totalitarian subterfuge of elections)
Whatever is happening
There is One.
In any propulsion instrument
The necessity is boundary
Surface tension,
Insulation and non- adulteration.
Oil and water need a gasket
Electricity needs cable, fuse and terminals
Fusion needs reactor chamber and coolants.
Insulation,
If the insulation breaks down,
The pulse stops.
Healing is wholing.
The hole you’re in is missing a ‘w’.
What is your double you?
It is the ‘my’ and the ‘not my’
Held together in an insulation.
It is the ‘my’ and the ‘e-ne-my’
Held together in an insulation.
It is the ‘my’ and the ‘enemy’
Held together in an insulation.
What is insulation?
Love is insulation
Love makes the hole whole.

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Facebook is a strange land. The repeat function that throws up what a person posted on the day but a year or many years ago, it is odd to see what one wrote.

Over the years of my social media writing, a process that I was and still can be, reluctant to engage with, the words pour out with very little intellectual activity.

This may be glaringly obvious to the intellectual reader of course!! Yet, because of the way this has been, when I see posts from the past I often find myself wondering who wrote them.

I have heard that this can be quite a common phenomenon for writers, so I claim no special function here. However, the above post that I wrote one year ago with Twitter addresses prefixing it as my Facebook posting appears automatically on Twitter, well this post seems especially odd.

I often bring together the addresses of the world’s leaders, as if they were gathered in my therapy room. On some level, the more abstract voices of the esoteric wing of the social media revolution would say that as they are virtually grouped, so they actually are in that moment.

Anyhoo, at this time of global brinkmanship and tension about oil-dollars, hegemony, empire building, basic resource management and on, and on, and on – my message hasn’t changed in a year ….

So I posted it again 🕉️

Globalised Resentment

From this way of dealing with the press and of attacks by Trump about his birth, Obama fires his barrage against his view of fake news and of Trump.

The power of resentment is apocalyptical in cases where the holders of deep resentments already have access to huge mundane power. Resentment is the tap root of all forms of spiritual illness. Global stuck-addiction© is the bellwether spiritual illness attending the digitally driven era-change.

These two men have spawned the political manifestation in plain sight, of the disease that actually infects the whole planet.
We now have a full resentment based presidency of the global Empire.

Diagnosis of a disease is essential if the energy to heal is to be accessed. The answer to this is no longer political, no longer even a matter of intellectual will, the antidote to a spiritual malady is spiritual.

This has been the reality of the 12 Step phenomenon over the last 80 years, a reality that means that we now have an articulation point that says that we are all living inside an addictive system.

At the head of this addictive system, the drama of this video has played itself out. During the video you will see Trump rocking backwards and forwards ever so slightly as Obama’s words land in his core.
We now all live, materially at least, in Trump’s revenge.

This is not a sustainable place to live.

The best that we can do ….?

Is this the best that we can do
From an Empire of global reach
Candidates of such calibre that who
Is it that can hardly halt the retch
As words of hate and blame
Resound the halls of fame and power
A burnt out family
Versus the trumped up tower
Is this the best that we can do?

It must be that the stage is stuck
The revolving gears grinding
The common man face down again in muck
Each soul’s breath a silent gasping
In disbelief?

Every Pharoah has their Moses
Every Empire their rise and fall.