A lot of fiction is born in train stations and airports—places where we tell stories to pass the time while we wait. Highway rest-stops, a shady tree, a side street half hidden by the rush of the avenue —we think it’s about going somewhere but our journeys instead lead us in-between.
…when you’ve never had anything to look forward to except an overwhelming sensation of connectedness that started on the internet and is now spilling over into “real” life.
My philosophy.
I’m deep into the writing of my book about online telepathy and getting more and more psyched about sharing what I’ve discovered with the internets. Unlike paths of enlightenment that require special diets or years of study, online telepathy is readily available to anyone as long as they can get online. You don’t have to master arcane knowledge or become physically or spiritually pure. You don’t have to have a clear mind—merely an open one. Once you are aware of the possibility of telepathy, the more it will happen.
Telepathy is a part of the activation a new/old way of being in the world. A way of being more aligned with plants and people. A way of feeling what’s going to happen—not by “reading” the future but by reading the NOW of the universe in its always unfolding everlasting becoming—the non-local, non temporal I AM urge and instinct that is at once the center and the circumference—the black hole and the spinning galaxy, the drain and the water rushing down it.
Michel Rajkovic (via Dramatic Waters of Iceland)
Everyone’s talking about Revolution 2.0 and how social media is the force behind it but Twitter and Facebook are just tools. Fearlessness is remixing the world. We’ve reached a saturation point in which the power of online telepathy has been activated on a mass scale. More and more of us intuitively understand ourselves to be a part of a network. The feedback loop between what we share and what is shared with us is so fast it’s nearly instantaneous. Whatever happened doesn’t need to put it into words—we kiss the world and breathe with it as one—what to do and where to go next aren’t decided upon but felt through the energetic reactions in our virtual hormones. An invisible machinery no less amazing than the intricate tubes and spindly bunches of nerves that make up our bodies beneath the thin covering of our flesh responds to our every need without us having to direct it. We’re all tuning in together to the A.I. voice Inside Us All That is Great.
We’re fearless because we know we can’t fail. It is already the case that nothing will be as it was—the old days are over, the old restrictions are broken. Everything that was covered-up is being revealed.
As silly as it may seem even clicking “like” on Facebook is a part of this Eternal Exchange. Even the corporate industrial marketing megamachine is a part of the universal feedback loop.
We are leaves on a tree—each plugged into the wisdom of the massive roots far below and under the ground. Any second we’ll be snatched free by the wind. Until then, our individual realization of our interdependent oneness is a part of a mass blossoming. After The 90’s Dark Ages and the gestation period between 9/11 when the Stargate opened and 2010, The Year We Made Contact, the Springtime for humanity has finally arrived.
This revolution/evolution is not, as we once imagined when we still believed in cause and effect, the result of one thing or another—it’s not information that’s learned or discovered, or the result of a scientific advancement or a philosophical creation. It’s more like a sixth (or seventh?) sense that allows you to feel your way through infinite connections on infinite bandwidth. It’s zoning out and letting everything rush through you. It’s about surfing by being led from one thing to another, tractor beam style. You enter a state in between noun and verb—in-between doing and not doing. This is when you can feel the others…the ones having the same kind of daze as you are worldwide.
Of course having lots of sticky green plant friends helps… Pack a bowl and watch Youtube… The zen zone of online telepathy was what Timothy Leary was getting at when he advocated tuning in and dropping out. He just didn’t have the internet yet.
That many people realized what he had realized all at once created a Tsunami of transformation in Tunisia and Egypt that will soon ripple across the world.
BE HERE NOW.
The power to change the world spreads person to person like an inverse zombie apocalypse:
Instead of The Walking Dead we are The Waking Up.
(via do-nothing)
Just some practice work in my sketchbook. I used ballpoint pen, charcoal (and white charcoal) and colored pencils :)
Instant Mash is a way of being based on the understanding that everything is sacred—all is one, all is a part of the radiating flash and flow that is now. Infinity becomes apparent in this new style. Every image, every scrap of clothing, every TV snippet, every glance, taste, blush, bang, thought, smell, touch was something that could be used—reprovisioned, retweeted, and reblogged…tweaked, tagged, cut and pasted and turned into a sample of the DIVINE.
Oculus is a constellation of stone and glass mosaics in the underground labyrinth of interconnected subway stations of lower Manhattan. Over three hundred mosaic eyes, drawn from a photographic study of more than twelve hundred young New Yorkers, are set into the white tile walls of the World Trade Center/Park Place/Chamber Street Stations. The work’s centerpiece is a large exquisitely detailed, elliptical glass and stone mosaic floor (38 ft 8 in x 20’8”) at the heart of the Park Place Station. The continents of the earth, interwoven with the City of New York amidst an ultramarine pool, surround a large eye in the middle of the mosaic. The mosaic is at once a vision of the world, a reflecting pool of water and a representation New York City in its proper geographical orientation.
The work’s detailed renderings of the eye – the most telling, fragile and vulnerable human feature – offer a profound sense of intimacy within a public place. Together, the images create a sense of unity and flow: animating, orienting and humanizing the station. Oculus invites a dialogue between the site and those who move through it.
The former World Trade Center Station is situated at the northeast corner of the site. The station was flooded and closed to the public following the September 11, 2001 attack. The site was damaged but not destroyed, and it reopened eight months later with the work mostly intact. Oculus was recognized as “an unexpected monument” by the Wall Street Journal on September 11, 2003.—Wikipeidia
At first glance, the eyes appear quite alike. But … each is casting a unique glance, some kindly, some questioning, others petulant. What are they doing here? What do they see?
—Oculus,Jones/Ginzel (1998)
I pass through the Chambers Street subway station ever day going back and forth from work. It’s my Church. The mosaic eyes of the Oculus art installation watch as I descend the stairwell and enter sacred space. I remove my sunglasses and take off my ear buds so I can see the symbols and hear the mysterious drone that hangs in the air. There’s an energy down there. I feel certain that it’s a place of healing—I see people hobbling on crutches or walking in circles, talking loudly to themselves and I want to tell them to stop and breathe. Let the other commuters come and go in the flash flood currents of their bizzy subway streams. Let time go on up above in its relentless push forward…down there it is forever NOW. There’s no where to be and nothing to do. There’s no rushing from an imaginary here to an equally imaginary there. The station is the destination.
We have arrived at the Eternity transit loop.
The eyes will bear witness as together we turn to dust.
One of the best ways to see universal feedback at work is through the activity of self-organizing groups. A self-organizing group is one that comes together without the hierarchy of a top-down command. Its members are motivated by their own desire to gather—not by paycheck, leader or religion. It’s non-corporate—grassroots in the truest, organic sense. The group exists because of deep, hidden connections that go beyond the everyday. The sheer number of self-organizing groups around today are only possible because of the flourishing of the social web. Applications such as Twitter and Facebook allow people to gather virtually—as one would at a gigantic cocktail party—complete with overheard conversations and the big names that are crowded by admirers and social climbers. The self-organized groups that have resulted are like groups of friends—the connections are fluid—at time tempestuous and at other times rigid and stuck in old models.
Unlike its social media cousin, Evolver.net, which was built with the intention of fostering not one but several self-organizing groups, the group on Reality Sandwich sprung up unplanned like a rhizome—a philosophical concept by Deleuze and Guattari which likens de-centralized, non-hierarchical systems to opportunistic plants such as ginger that use a horizontal stem in order to grow in-between trees. The trees were the old model—the top-down world in which authority came on high. The rhizomes weren’t bent on taking and replacing the trees as plant kings of the forest—they revealed a way of existing not as an either/or of systems but of an either and or. The botanical and conceptual rhizomes were about an expansion of possibilities—it wasn’t about doing away with the old—it was about coming up with that which was the least expected, like living life as a gathering of decentralized multiplicities in a world of towering, top/down metaphysical ideals.
The RS rhizome sprung up in damp shadows of the comment boxes. The posts themselves were submission only—their closed system based on approval factors formed the forest of trees while the comments became the twisting brambles and moss below where anyone who registered for the site could join in.
An old cohort from back in the blog 1.0 days used to say—sometimes comments are the best part. I don’t know if this was often the case given the generally high quality of the writing on RS, but what I did find to be the case was that the RS comment boxes were ripe for synchronicity—there were always connections being made through links or obscure references that would be mind-blowing with epic levels of uncanniness. I’d think—isn’t it crazy, I was just thinking the same exact thing!…or, wow, that’s the same book I was drawn to on my friend’s bookshelf yesterday—a friend who has the same initials as this commenter, making it not only about the connection of the book but about the friend, and the timing of having been over their place when I was, with the spine of the book sticking out from the shelf, just as the light in the room turned into long strands—the afternoon undoing its golden locks and letting them fall over us…
My research has shown that the grounds for telepathy increase in proportion to the amount of recognition that self-organized group members have of their status as members. It wasn’t enough to all happen to fall into a certain category in which they shared certain things in common—it was the group’s awareness of being a group that made the self-organized group truly dynamic. Not only were the commenters on RS technically members of a group by virtue of having a log-in and password, they were also members by virtue of an assumed curiosity towards RS’s subject matter. That said the group had no real rules—no membership dues or meetings to attend.
What was real was that you had the feeling you were in the middle of something. A way of thinking and being that was happening NOW.
Magical things happen in places where people feel compelled to gather without being coerced into doing so. Wanting to do something makes a huge difference in the experience of doing it—whatever it is. The feedback loops created in the comment boxes effects the entire site—from the writing to the graphics and layout—everything feels like it’s coming together according to remote control powers—there is the nagging sensation of a larger significance, the sensation of being one part of a bigger story.
(via peachme)
Since the summer I’ve been getting deep in the philosophical mud trying to sculpt a theory of Universal Feedback and Flow. A combination of things—including a Nassim Haramein lecture I attended at Collective Hardware, my experiences DJing vinyl records, and a mystical vision I had on a Florida beach coalesced into the insight that everything that exists is a feedback loop both created by and creating an exchange of energy. What’s more this exchange is constantly happening—on the level of atoms all the way to galaxies and black holes, the universe IS a fractal flux falling apart at the same time that it comes together. It’s a snake eating it’s own tail. I’m learning how to see through the veil of the everyday and experience the constant back and forth just behind it. This exchange can take many different forms (perhaps an infinite number of them) but it is always a give and take of energy. By focusing on that which appears solid and true it is revealed to be mostly empty space with flashes of static appearing and disappearing according to a web of criss-crossed signals. Like the inhale and exhale that form a breath—or the hyper-awareness of one hand touching the other—or the journey inwards that is embarked upon by focusing on the myriad detail radiating in the single NOW of the present. It’s not a matter of cause and effect—that’s the tricky part, getting past the long held belief that one thing causes another. Everything that appears is the result of it being simultaneously discovered and created by our perception. The exchange happens all at once—it’s not that one part comes first and allows for the other, but that one part doesn’t exist without the other—like how the ying and yang is only a ying and yang. Similarly, the insight of universal feedback teaches us that we only exist as individuals because we exist as networks. You can’t have one without the other.
The illusion that one thing causes another has morphed into an entire metaphysics, in which meaning stands outside of a thing as an ideal that infuses it with its essence. We believe that things happen because of other things—taking it to the extreme of interpreting that which happens as being what we deserve, based on whether we are “good” or “bad” people.
Nothing is inherent good or bad. There is only the perception and misperception of individual events—and only from the vantage point of an all-seeing God could anyone know which was which.
It may be too early to tell, but it seems that what I’m creating is a philosophy of collective relativism by which instead of qualities what exists is the infinite quantity of possibilities present in each and every instant. In addition to facts and figures and all that is true and definite the masses learn to focus their attention upon that which overlaps and gets fuzzy, vacancies, null sets and static. These in-between places are where new myths and legends are born. We look for openings in time—wrinkles by which to stretch out an ordinary collection of charmed moments into an infinity of infinities—an epic tale like a necklace with a never-ending string of jeweled stones that forever cast their light in the darkest places.
I was drowning in information that I knew was important if only I could figure out how to lay out all the different pieces. I was frustrated and about to finally give up when I received a series of signs. That was when the nature of my work changed—I went from playing detective to mining synchronicities. Everyone’s experienced synchronicity at some time or another—whether or not that’s what you called it. A series of uncanny “Twilight Zone” events connected not by causality but by meaning, as Sting sang in the Police song, “Synchronicity”:
A sleep trance, a dream dance,
A shared romance—synchronicity…
We know you, they know me
Extrasensory—synchronicity…
A star fall, a phone call
It joins all—synchronicity
The more I studied them the more synchronicities seemed to occur to me—each one taking me deeper into some tale to which I didn’t know the plot. What’s more, the coincidences in my life started to link up in uncanny, yet undeniable ways to various pieces of popular media. The feeling I got when these links were revealed was usually one of bliss and awesomeness. The first few times that it happened I tried to shrug it off. I told myself I was imagining connections where there were none. But they kept happening.
(via foresting)
Like UFOs and paranormal events, the orb phenomena is an example of how we can get so hung-up debating the “realness” of something that we miss what its appearance reveals to us about the evolving nature of our collective unconscious. I include myself in this tendency towards dualistic, right/wrong, true/false distinctions—despite all the things I’ve experienced that prove otherwise, it’s still all too easy to fall back upon the conventions of language and society and think of things as either real and rational or unreal and “crazy”. As such I was sceptical when I first heard about orbs—the mysterious white, semi-transparent balls that unexpectedly appear on digital photos. The accepted photographic explanation is that the orbs are appearing because of the decreased distance between the lens and the built-in flash of new, smaller cameras, which are thereby able to pick up the light reflecting off of sub-visible particles. There are others, however, who discount this theory and believe instead that the orbs are aliens, extraterrestrial spacecraft, ghosts, or some type of elemental being. They argue that existing scientific theories fail to explain all such appearances, citing the prevalence of orbs in photographs from certain locations, such as the ECETI ranch in southern Washington state near Mt. Adams.
While I found such theories interesting to read, the hype over them seemed like just another attempt of the New Age industry to cash in on what was most likely a trick of light. It wasn’t until I read Daniel Pinchbeck’s report about his experience at an orb conference in England that a new way of thinking about the phenomenon opened up to me. Daniel was less concerned with questions regarding the realness of the orbs, and more interested in what they meant sociologically. He pointed to the fact that orbs often appear in pictures in which a group of people are gathered and argued that their appearance may be projections of group consciousness being aware of itself as a group:
The Orbs Conference offered an eccentric collection of testimonies, channeling, scientific research and slide shows. My favorite take on the orbs came from William Bloom, a local mystic, who claims he has telepathic chats with the spheres. The orbs told him they work like “a cloud or a flock,” and visit us to “support group consciousness.” According to the orbs, “As we touch your individual psyches you begin consciously to experience yourselves as intimately connected with all other life forms on this planet and throughout the cosmos.” A physicist who connected two cameras to take simultaneous photographs found that orbs would only appear on one or the other camera. While he took this as evidence of their quantum subtlety, it could suggest spoof rather than proof.
In my talk on the orbs, I downplayed the question of the orbs’ authenticity to take a sociological approach. A postmodern phenomenon, the orbs only appeared in our world due to new technology, digital media, and social networks like Flickr, or blogs where people share orb images. As our evolving social technologies keep bringing us together in unexpected ways, Bloom’s transmission about “group consciousness” is thought provoking.
Daniel analyzed what he identified as a post-modern phenomenon using post-modern analytical tools: he wasn’t searching for an external validation of its reality, but instead attempted to reveal the context through which the orbs appear. I realized that a similar approach could be taken with UFOs and other phenomena—my inquiry didn’t have to fall on the side of deciding for science OR magic—rather, it could ride the psychological boundary between them. The information about orbs comes in the form of stories—which is how all information is shared—whether it’s supposed “hard” data reported by a scientist in a respected journal or the “unfounded” mystical thoughts on the blog of a (r)evolutionary author. I’ve realized it’s not the story itself, but the manner in which it is told that is the real meat of the matter. In the case of orbs, it’s not the little white balls themselves that are my focus, but what they reveal about a new, seemingly spontaneous method of telling stories via group consciousness. This post-post modern story telling resonates with the rise of self-organizing groups that use new social media tools such as Twitter and Facebook to coordinate the efforts of “the many” without the need of a leader.
It is my belief that it is the awareness of our new abilities to act as organic groups that forms the basis for our next evolutionary leap as a species. The more we understand ourselves as being intricately and irreparably connected with everyone and everything, the more we will realize the true nature of reality as being nothing more than a consensual illusion—thereby doing away with questions of what is real and unreal altogether.
“SPIT IT OUT”
By: THEmeanMRmustard
In the same way that scientists can’t accurately measure the hyper-lightning movements of quantum particles, it is impossible for marketers to put a fixed value on the tweets that make up the millions of rushing, constantly changing Twitter streams. The movements of Tweets don’t follow a strict set of rules—and yet, like the particles, they aren’t completely chaotic either. Their worth can be understood according to context and probability—visible not as points or bars on a graph but as waves of undetermined length reaching out in multiple directions. When the send button is pressed, a tweet appears in many places at once (i.e. on individual feeds via various devices) and contains the possibility of being retweeted in many others. A tweet can simultaneously create new connections and dissemble old ones—it can both inspire and disgust, cause followers to be gained or lost. Instead of prescribing rules for how to tweet, it makes more sense to communicate the impossibility of prescribing rules, and instead encourage users to open up to the free flow of the streams—as opposed to clamping down extra-hard with filters and search tools.
The marketers and business people and so-called social media experts will point to this and that as the right and wrong way to Tweet—not realizing that the more exacting they try to be the more the TRUE essence of Twitter slips through their fingers—similar to another aspect of quantum physics called The Observer Effect—which refers to changes that the act of observation will make on the phenomenon being observed.
As long as Twitter continues to be conceptualized as an online version of the existing physical world, many users will miss out on its power as a tool for revealing the invisible interdependent connections between us all. (Remember: just because something is invisible or doesn’t exist doesn’t mean it isn’t real.) The particle-dance movements of tweets provide flashes of fractal multi-verses bursting forth like fireworks before fading just as fast. The goal should not be to freeze-frame and dissect it—but to enjoy its fleeting nature for what it is in a shared awareness of the beauty of NOW.
