ye dragons

 audio recording

calling on ye dragons

with a purple plastic bag

my memory link

my portkey to a state

of knowing

 ness

a state of feeling, holding, breathing

where I truly am

where I’m going

from whence it all began

redundancies be damned

I’ll run with idiom

with the merry band of

free-speaking

scuffed black tan

words in hiding

words on th’run

words that won’t

can’t or’d

sooner be hanged

than conform to a state of

…    correctitude

Do I make myself clear?

indeed you do

ah, welcome my schizoid

other^ness

welcome back

do you come to ride dragons

 or to hunt the unicorn?

er…

              neither, perhaps

er…       

neither, you’ll say

‘r…

              neither, to tap three times

              the barrel’s oaken floor

              and imbibe the fruit

              of barleycorn

you would lead them astray

              i…

you would forge a false trail

would you not

              aye

you would seek to play their minds

like a harpsichord

a don Giovanni personifying

the triumph of form

over meaningless

substance

              meaningless?!

were it not for purply plastic bag

a vision connecting me to what is truly

meaningful

i’d suffer irreparable damage

following your line

of reasoning

but wind 

 the wind bloweth

and the rain y'raineth

with a hey, with a ho

and a hey nonny nonny

for words are but words

and deeds

but deeds

              and folk

              fair or foul

              but players strutting upon the stage

while life

the spider herself

weaveth a web

of intricate pattern

              deliberate design

and Socrates 

   the fool 

puts reason beyond reproach

while Euclides of Alexandria

nails geometry to the mast

of minstrelsy

we do not care

for these names or numbers

for these…  things

you hang upon so fervently

oozing unctuously

with obsequious sycophancy

a uriah heep of philo-sophistry

we care for no thing

you'cn spin or weave with words

and dance we

dance your words back to the devil himself

who flingeth up his arms in despair

as we dance past rhyme or reason

to a purple haze

plastic'y bag

triggered

to recollect the unfathomable

ness

of infinity

to breathe

to be

to know             

              and knowing

              …knowing

known

              ye words

              ye gods of littleness

              the ever flow

              of things

              things in motion

              things unseen

                unheard

things

              thrice – be sure to pause

              to hold the power of emptiness

              the power of nought encompassing

              one

              or fail to poem, to space

              to sing

my miller’s tale

my song of nothing much

encompassing every other

              cursed

thing

ah, ye dragons, transmute the stuff of

all hereinabove

the space, the time, the matter

of mind grappling doggedly with shadows

on the cave wall 

until a sun calleth us

back outside

into a light

of golden hair and greeny-blue eyes

              sigh

unless perhaps we take

the unicorn trail

and head off eastwards

beyond the

              beyond

              …d

thirdly

 

0=1

Tenby Street

Discounting "me".

Me sees things materially, doesn’t it.

Me thinks that things are more or less endless, and that by comparison, little me is almost totally insignificant.

Me is physically unable to see things differently, for me is of the platform.

Me has no awareness whatsoever that I exists, assuming that me is I, in the same way it assumes the platform is reality.

“What is what?” it handles with ease and aplomb, but everything else, utter blank until, that is, it starts noticing that the various bathroom tiles don’t match up – that things may look reasonably sensible when you study a small section, but the minute you step back and start looking at the whole, me runs into insurmountable difficulties – not least because me is physically unable to look at the whole – it has to go out of or beyond itself, into unme – the great I am – and there…

 

No, I just want to investigate whether or not the tiles match up.

 

What bloody tiles are you on about?

The various elements of reality.

 

Give me a break. Reality cannot, by definition, not match up – can it! It’s real, isn’t it?

 

Well yes, that’s what I need to test.

 

? It makes no sense. It’s like wishing to test your own existence.

 

Not quite – my existence is a given, by definition, is it not – cogito ergo sum – proven by the very thought process, or questioning awareness, but my isness… that’s another matter altogether – but let’s learn to walk before we run – let’s deal with the interlocking plates of matter itself, the exoskeleton of reality, before we turn inwards to I-am-ity.

 

How on earth are you going to do that? What could you possibly measure it against – if it’s real and nothing else is?

 

I really don’t know, do I, but you’re not going to learn anything until you try.

 

Ok, try! and let me know if you’re successful.

 

Well, I’ve already been logging things for a while, in fact, and there are certain issues.

 

There are?

 

Well yes.

 

Like what?

 

Like the fact that the earth, when measured optically, seems to be unfeasibly flat.

 

Jesus. You’re not one of those flat earth retards, are you?

 

No – I’m just looking at all things without prejudice, whatsoever. I couldn’t care less whether the world is square, flat, round or wavy.

 

Well take my word for it – it can’t be flat, no matter what your optical measurements indicate.

 

Why is that?

 

Because everyone knows it’s round – and the whole of science is based on that. Were it flat you’d have an unconcealable mismatch, you’d have…

 

Yes, I know, and yet there are real, technical problems with the existing model. Apart from the optics there’s the issue of gyroscopes and artificial horizons. The world may be round or spherical, but as far as the gyroscopes and artificial horizons on planes are concerned, it ain’t, because they can’t handle curvature – they can only hold the plain, and the flight paths…

 

What about flight paths?

 

They’re off whack. Totally eccentric for certain routes if the globe is being used to navigate, especially south of the equator.

 

I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with a rational guy. Utter insanity. The world is not, bloody flat – Ok?! Get a life. Get a grip. Get a sense of reality – for crying out loud!

 

Yes, of course, and then there’s the night sky.

 

The night sky – what now?

 

It doesn’t change.

 

Yes it does.

 

Barely. No parallax.

 

Huh?

 

Apart from a slight shift between winter and summer, it’s basically identical all year round.

 

Well that’s because space is vast and those stars are hundreds of light years away.

 

Yes, so they say, but the fact is that we’re supposed to be orbiting the sun.

 

Well that’s hardly controversial, is it!

 

But if we’re orbiting the sun, our night sky should be totally different in winter to summer – cos we’d be on different sides of the sun, looking away. And besides…

 

Wait a minute, just because you’re on the other side of the sun doesn’t mean the sky should be completely different, it’s still the same Milky Way.

 

Yes, but you’d be looking out in the opposite direction, wouldn’t you?

 

Not if you’re looking up all the time.

 

Precisely – not if there’s only really up. And besides, those stars are supposed to be moving in different parts of the sky relative to each other, depending on whether they’re closer or further, depending on which solar system they belong to, or galaxy – so as we’re spinning and moving with the sun in our local orbital dance – there should be swirling, counter-directional parallax – but the only thing we’re able to notice is the planets shifting, or the occasional comet. Everything else seems to be fixed, locked in place around the ever true, ever constant pole star.

 

Do you really imagine there’s no explanation for this?

 

I…

 

Do you really imagine that the thousands of highly intelligent astronomers and cosmologists around the world haven’t given this their careful thought and attention?

 I…

 

How could you be so blinkered to imagine you, and you alone can see what is hidden from everyone else?

 

Actually, I’m hardly the only one. It’s only been a brief few hundred years that so-called scientists have insisted on the current model – and besides – who cares, I’m looking for reality – and the only way to find it is to look for mismatches in the visible, measurable informational field.

 

Pchaw!

 

The me will always, always avoid seeing anything that reveals its edge, its boundary, its limit, so while you may be absolutely right – and these observations I’m making may be individually falsifiable, they may equally be symptomatic of…

 

Hello? I… don’t understand. Where’az he got to, all of a sudden? Bizarre… didn’t even…

 

this.

 

Yikes!

 

Made you jump.

 

Idiot. What did you do?

 

Nothing.

 

Nothing, my arse. You just vanished mid-sentence.

 

Yes, but that would be impossible, wouldn’t it? I can hardly dematerialise, can I?

 

I know, obviously, so it was some kind of trick, wasn’t it, or hypnosis.

 

Well yes, except for the fact that I don’t know anything about tricks or hypnosis.

 

Then what was it?

 

Like I said – I’m interested in figuring out the limitations of the platform we’re in – in other words, in getting better acquainted with reality.

 

You’re just spouting – there is no platform – what you see is what you get.

 

Great. Then you can trust what you’re able to see 100%.

 

Naturally, I can, unless someone’s messing around with my senses.

 

But what about this…

 

Oh no you don’t. No… stop it… it’s grotesque. I don’t want to see it… I’m closing my eyes. I can’t see anything. Aaargh! Get out of my head. How did you get in? What’s happened to you? First you shrink down to nothing, and then you look like some kind of demented squirrel in a suit. This is… For Christ’s sake, leave off, whatever it is you’re doing.

 

There. Your senses?

 

You had no right to invade my senses like that.

 

Wait a minute – you mean to say you actually believe I was able to shrink down to a pinhead and then reappear as a kind of demented squirrel?

 

No, of course not. No one can. It wasn’t real. It was an optical illusion. You’re playing games with my mind.

 

So you can’t trust your senses?

 

I can, except when a warlock starts messing with me.

 

Warlock? You actually believe in warlocks? In magic? Is that what you’re saying?

 

No, I don’t, I’m not insane – it’s just an expression – look, you’ve proven nothing – optical illusions happen all the time. It’s like LSD, isn’t it – a minor hallucination. But the minute it’s over I can easily discern what is real and what is not.

 

Of course you can. So, you’re exactly the person I need to help me.

 

I am?

 

Yes, because I’ve been having some difficulty trying to figure out what’s real and what is not.

 

Really?

 

Yes. Once I started suspecting the platform was covering up gaps, or passages into other tracts of reality, I started looking for tell-tale signs of where this was occurring – and it seemed to be at junctures where there’s apparently nothing to notice – nothing doing – nothing out of the ordinary.

 

Well that sounds like it could be anywhere.

 

Yes, but there are certain spots which are aggressively dismissive of one’s innate-curiosity – which seem to protest a little too much, a little too stridently, and which even take it one step further…

 

Huh?

 

…[dramatic pause]

 

What?

 

Seem to spray your mind, your conscious-awareness with something that literally makes you lose track of what you were thinking about a moment earlier – what you were just sensing that merited investigation or close attention.

 

Really? Sounds…

 

unlikely – doesn’t it?

 

Yep.

 

Which is precisely why I need someone sober-minded like you, En, to be my eyes and brain – to make sure I’m not being fooled by an overactive imagination.

 

Er… well, now that you put it like that – yes – I expect you could do with a sober-minded, detached pair of eyes to keep you observed. Nothing like a bit of third-party verification, is there, the scientific method and all.

Precisely my thoughts, particularly as I know you’re so well grounded in er… reality.

 

I like to keep my feet on the ground, you’re right, which is why I can’t be bothered with all those ridiculous conspiracy theories of yours.

 

Yes, as long as your reality is in fact real, and not…

 

Give up Ef – this platform theory of yours just doesn’t pass muster.

 

Excellent – in which case you’ll make short shrift of my problem.

 

Of course… but what problem exactly are you referring to?

 

For the sake of science – purely for the sake of science – would you be willing to hold my hand and walk down Tenby Street.

 

Er… I’m not sure I’m comfortable with all that handholding malarkey.

 

Yes, I appreciate your scruples. I wouldn’t ask – it’s just…

 

What?

 

No, I don’t want to put you in an awkward spot. People might make observations and draw conclusions.

 

Wait a minute – Ef – I’m not homophobic, you know – there’s nothing wrong with guys holding hands.

 

That’s very good of you, but tongues might wag. It might put you in a spot.

 

No, no, no – if there’s one thing I pride myself on – Ef – that’s being willing to stand up for equal rights – and to pay no heed to old, morally obsolete prejudice. But, maybe you’re…

 

I wouldn’t ask – En – were it not for the fact that these old discomfort zones seem to correlate with the platform boundaries – and…

 

What?

 

I particularly didn’t want to bring this up.

 

What is it? You can tell me.

 

My... cancer.

 

You’re what?!

 

It’s a sensitive subject, people find it hard to accept.

 

This is for real, Ef, you’re not kidding me?

 

The doctors say I have a month or two, three at most.

 

Oh my God – why didn’t you tell me earlier? I can’t believe it.

 

It’s ok En. You understand, these things happen. It’s life. One minute you have it – it’s there – and the next it’s not. But, that’s why I’m so determined to test the boundary, while I still am able to – to give it my best shot – while I still can.

 

Oh yes – I see – of course – yes, I see what you mean.

 

I’m not holding out for a miracle – no – perish the thought – but I wish to carry on learning – while I still can. It’s never too late, is it En, to learn?

 

No, absolutely, never too late. I feel kind of foolish, Ef, for not er…

 

Realising? How could you. I preferred to keep it quiet – but I can see that you’re the kind of guy who can handle the truth, aren’t you – which is why I’ve opened up. I hope you don’t blame me for opening up, if it’s not too…

 

Blame you?! Of course not. It was a brave thing to do Ef. The right thing, in the circumstances, and if I can be of any assistance…

No, no, the doctors say it’s quite hopeless – though you never know – there have been sudden, unexpected remissions – no, En, I’m quite resigned, and the only thing left is to…

 

Oh – are you thinking what I’m thinking?

 

That depends.

 

Wouldn’t it be interesting to test your theory?

 

Which theory is that?

 

About the edge of things. The platform boundary.

 

I’m not sure there’s any point now, is there, given my hopeless condition.

 

Don’t say that Ef. You must have had good reason for thinking it in the past. You were never prone to wild fantasies, I don’t recollect.

 

I don’t know. Tenby Street used to fascinate me back then, before I had the diagnosis – but now…

 

…?

 

Now, what’s the point?

 

I think you need to be true to your instincts Ef. I think you need to hold your course, regardless. I’d be honoured if you’d let me accompany you for a stroll down Tenby Street.

 

You would.

 

Yes, I would.

 

Really?

 

Absolutely. In the name of science, and friendship – how else are we going to learn anything if we’re unwilling to take risks…

 

?

 

If we’re unwilling to test the hypothesis. What have we got to lose?

 

In my case En, nothing whatsoever. My life… No, I’d better not say it.

 

Well, I’m not one to clutch at straws or pray for miracles, Ef, but you know the old saying…

 

No.

 

It ain’t over till the fat lady sings.

 

Damn it – you’re right En. Maybe I should snap out of my self-pity. Maybe I should give science the chance it deserves, however daft the proposition may appear to be. After all, I wasn’t trying to imagine things, was I?

 

No, of course you weren’t. If you felt something odd on Tenby Street – something that seemed to instruct you to move on without noticing what was really happening, what was really there – then now of all times, is the right time to let empiricism do its thing…

 

You’ve persuaded me En. I knew I could rely on you.

 

You did?

 

Yes. Your intellectual honesty, your magnanimous spirit of enquiry, your compassion…

 

I don’t know, Ef – you’re making me feel…

 

Sorry En, forgive me for overloading you with feelings – I…

 

What?

 

I… [breaks down, sobbing convulsively]

 

Oh dear… there, there…

 

may never have the chance to express my gratitude, again.

 

Tush, tush… You’re, if you’ll forgive me for saying it, looking remarkably well for someone who er…

 

Yes, the doctors said the same thing, but…

 

Come on Ef… Let’s get a spot of fresh air. Let’s head down Tenby Street. I’d be delighted to accompany you, hand in hand.

 

Very good of you En [sniffing back the last of his tears]

 

The two of them put on their hats and coats and head out into a blustery spring day. En, to his surprise, feels little or no discomfort walking down the busy thoroughfare hand in hand with Ef, and no one, to his surprise, seems to pay them the least bit of attention. As they proceed down the street – a gliding quality – as if they’re on one of those airport moving walkways – creates a sense of strangeness, of unfamiliarity to the experience – and were it not for Ef’s hand holding him firmly – En imagines that he might have sat down or even popped into a shop for a coffee – but walking hand in hand the slightly dreamlike quality of the experience is not unbearable – in fact – a jolt…

What was that?

 

En splutters as he finds himself splashing in a stream he’s just fallen in.

 

Trying to make head or tails of the situation. Er… rewind… Tenby Street – check – sudden jolt – check – in the water fully clothed – wait a second – night time? What on earth happened to the day – and this is…

Head reeling – En can’t make head or tails of what’s going on – in fact – he’s still evidently a bit groggy after the Tenby experience.

 

We did it En.

 

Huh?

 

Ef is beaming at En… Congratulations. You made it across the boundary.

 

I did? I think I made it into a nightmare. I’m soaking wet lying in a ditch, where? Apparently in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night?

 

No, it’s not as late as all that – but yes – there is time-space dislocation, is there not.

 

Where are we Ef – if you don’t mind telling me.

 

Ef shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. I… er… really couldn’t say.

 

What?

 

And frankly I don’t care.

 

Something inside En suddenly reacts – lack a dog with hackles raised.

 

You lied to me, didn’t you?

 

…

 

En knows without a doubt that he’s dealing with something beyond his comprehension. Ef seems to scrutinise him in the darkness, with a luminous gaze.

 

I did what I had to do.

 

But…

 

He was going to say “why” but the word dies on his lips. Ef’s gaze makes it utterly redundant.

 

Good – you’re seeing things more clearly now, aren’t you.

 

I…

 

Methinks we’ve learnt a lot. Perhaps you’d like to climb out of the stream, En?

 

Squelching soggily Em gets out. To his surprise he sees a fire already lit. They’re both sitting beside it, already – as if the ditch was never there – clothes already dry.

 

You see, Em – the different parts of your conscious-awareness are not yet fully integrated, as you’ve spent so long in the platform, and assumed it was the same as reality.

 

Er.

 

So yes, you’re having issues with continuity – but don’t for a moment doubt this is any less real for that.

 

I don’t – as Em breathes in the fire smoke and feels his eyes smarting, acridly.

 

Well – I’m glad to learn that you’re not in fact dying of cancer Ef.

Merry.

 

Huh?

 

Merry.

 

Sudden dawning – bang – recognition – memory resurgence – Merry! Of course, how could I… I?... Me…

He’s getting there…

 

Me…

 

A beetle flies past, buzzily, buzzing insistently. Zzzz

 

Zie!

 

The penny

 

finally

 

droppeth

 

Zzzzzzie… as Tenby Street flies off towards some rather attractive acacia trees, if a street, that is, can reasonably be expected to be a beetle, temporarily, at least...

 

If an armadillo has wings…

 

 

0=1

 

The platform

Hi guys. I think it’s time I introduced myself. I’m your platform manager. I’m the one responsible for ensuring that the platform works without any glitches – that you’re able to get the full experience you expect and require from our platform.

 

Yes, I understand you’re not fully aware of the fact that this is, in fact, a platform. Usually you refer to it as “reality” or even “life”, but I assure you that it is, in fact, a platform. That’s three “in facts” in one sentence – if you’re the kind of fact finder interested in largely meaningless trivia, but in this case, I can assure you, that I’m using my “in fact”s quite deliberately to trigger your sense and meaning cortex – a part of the brain which is platform sensitive. So, without further ado, let us proceed.

 

What difference does it make, you’re asking, whether this is in fact “life”, “reality” or a “platform”? – an excellent question which indicates there’s nothing amiss with your cognitive abilities. Everything, I can assure you, which is the third time I’ve done so, again quite purposefully – methinks he doth assure too much – you might be thinking as you wonder whether I pass the smell test of trustworthiness, or the litmus test of reliability – everything – for though you were completely unaware of my existence three minutes ago, and likewise that you are not, in fact, operating in reality as you reasonably assumed, but as paid-up members of a reality platform, knowing this now completely alters the nature of everything – and by “everything” I mean everything you’re able to perceive and experience from here, upon or within this platform. It’s coming dangerously close to legalese, and likewise perilously close to giving you a headache – so allow me to invite you into the know.

 

The know

 

More and more people have started figuring out that all is not quite what it seems, have they not? Things in our world have started getting more and more weird: conspiracy theories abounding: flat earth loonies, fake moon landings, global pandemics and secret societies – there’s literally no end to them. Not so long ago, in an age of innocence and objective reality, a spade was still a spade, and gravity was a force that kept us firmly rooted to the ground. So what’s changed? Everything. Yes, that’s the sixth time I’ve used the term which is either unpardonable carelessness, or indicative of an obsession with “everythingness” on my part. Allow me to suggest, that if I’m correct in my facts – and that I am indeed your platform manager – then “everything” is a technically relevant term, because nothing less than “everything” will give you the ability to see the wood from the trees, and to make the most of your platform experience.

 

How so...?  Allow me to backtrack.

 

Reality itself would be a little different, would it not? Rhetorical question – at the moment you don’t have enough data to answer meaningfully. “Reality”, in the way you generally use the term, refers to things as they truly are – which I and my ilk of platform administrators might refer to as “isness”. Isness is something which is known directly – because those of us who are not functioning as platform persons (platformees) have something known as “direct knowledge” – we simply know exactly what’s going on because our conscious-awareness has no system constraints, not being tethered to a platform. Now, that may look great or even mystical to you – but it’s merely an alternative mode of being. Either you’re experiencing reality as a platformed person (platformee), operating within a closed system, or you’re not – in which case you know directly. Each has a lot to offer, but in fact, and in truth, both need each other, both co-exist in mutual gain and benefit, no matter what you may personally imagine.

 

So back to our tricky little “everything”. Somewhat mistakenly assuming you were operating within reality, you didn’t realise the need to test everything, to verify what-is-what, to say the least. You subconsciously assumed, erroneously, that you knew or know what-is-what, based on information at your disposal, but more than that, based on this mistaken assumption that this is, in fact, “reality”. For were it reality, and not merely a platform presenting a version, or versions, of reality, you would indeed know directly – and that would be that. No further need for verification. Capisce?

 

The platform, however, is somewhat cunningly designed to substitute reality in a way that is barely detectable, barely noticeable unless, that is, you bother to test everything, constantly.

 

No way!!! You’re thinking – I can’t be expected to constantly test everything, can I? I’m only human. I don’t have time for this, or the energy! And there, dear platform person (platformee), you are truly mistaken. I won’t say “greatly” as I’m not prone to hyperbole, or sensationalism for that matter, but you are truly, in the sense of “undeniable truth”, mistaken. How so? you might ask… perhaps imagining that I am failing to see things from your perspective – failing to consider both sides of the argument – but here, I assure you, there is no argument. You cannot make sense of the platform without testing everything, constantly, and paradoxically, or perhaps I should be saying – counter-intuitively – that isn’t as hard, or burdensome, as it appears to be. Indeed, allow me to suggest, that once you get in the habit of testing everything constantly – you’ll discover to your delight, that it’s the most wonderful exercise in self-awareness, or might I say “knowingness”, and that, far from being an unwarranted drain on your resources and unacceptable burden, actually does the opposite, releasing more and more energy from reality itself – the reality that your platform does its utmost to mask or to deny you. You see, outside the platform energy has never, ever been in short supply or limited in any way whatsoever – nor can it be – for you and your ilk of platform persons (platformees), no less than me and my ilk of direct knowers, are equally, undeniably, and may I add for emphasis, inalienably, of the field, of the source, of the (uncontainable) energy itself – perfectly able to synthesise, generate or harness whatever resources we might require. So, in conclusion…

 

The paragraph was far too long to allow for any final conclusion. Besides, we were merely considering the need and possibility of being able to test everything, constantly, in order to bring your platform to heel, like a dog that requires training and mastership. Failure to do so, and the dog will rule you and your life. But I don’t wish to… you might be thinking – and that’s ok – you’ll have a stream of interesting, pertinent psychological experiences which will involve exhaustion and dissatisfaction, as you come to realise that a dog is a wonderful animal, but cannot really be a good master for a man or a woman – unless you are purposefully researching natural inversions – when the natural order of things is turned upside down in order to see how it plays out. Many people on our platform have chosen to experience the likes, and there’s nothing wrong with that, or any other programme you may have decided to explore. All things happen in their own good time – and eventually you discover that there are real limitations to that particular programme which prevent you from experiencing the full depth and breadth of your natural joy and happiness, which is why our older students or adepts generally discard such models.

 

In actual fact, the dog, as you well know, was merely a metaphor, so hopefully not too many dog lovers will take it upon themselves to hate me for appearing to be insensitive to the dog’s right to rule – yes, the platform is a little like a dog in that it can be tamed, it can be made to serve well, and almost, anthropomorphically so, as if it were a living creature deriving pleasure and happiness from doing so. Impossible – you might be thinking – and well I understand your objections. A platform is merely a system, a thing, a whatness, and in no way, shape or form can it be like a living being… and generally speaking I’m inclined to agree with you. I certainly don’t want to encourage a cult of platform worshippers – I assure you. Look into “cargo cults” if you’re interested in the topic. And yet, speaking to you as platform manager, with no sense of superiority whatsoever, merely as one who has constantly an awareness of the whole picture – I would encourage you to explore the possibility that the “everything” I have so diligently attempted to bring to your attention, does necessarily and inevitably go beyond your, or my, preconceptions or prejudices. There is no way whatsoever that the thinking, rational mind, the mind of things, and hierarchies of things, and theories of things ad infinitum can in any way deal with the enormity of the task in hand. It is guaranteed to keep you platform-bound – to prevent you from seeing the wood from the trees, to ensure that you merely serve as a platform node – freely giving up the bandwidth of your conscious-awareness in order to help sustain, maintain or further advance this incredible illusion of things – a reality in which things always seem to matter, always seem to be in some way not quite perfectly arranged, in which things always seem to offer a solution – if only, if only we can get them properly sorted. Familiar territory? i.e. a reality which is always time displaced – never quite here, never quite matching – never quite in sync – and the question for you is, whether you honestly believe that something or other from within the system can possibly, technically, or reasonably be able to recalibrate or balance the apparent imbalance – bearing in mind that you yourself as platformee are part of the equation, as observer and thing-in-person, and that you yourself, as long as you’re in mind-of-things are locked into the time dislocation – in fact – helping to ensure its perfect preservation.

 

Crazy, is it not? As if we could be our own worst enemy, except that this is not, in fact, a zero sum game, but a kind of research project cum theatre production cum journey into the back-end of infinity – itself no mean undertaking. So, consider yourself a master technician of reality simulation, even if you’re hopelessly bad at managing your platform me-ness, or walking the dog you haven’t quite yet brought to heel.

 

So everything, I assure you, tested constantly against your reality feed, your life spark, your conscious-awareness still present deep within your breath – deep within your so-called heart, is the sure-fire way to bust the proverbial matrix, to reveal the fallacy of things that our rational mind is guaranteed to fall for, every time, hook line and sinker – like the trusting dupe it is. No, we’re not suggesting the rational mind is stupid or limited. It’s everything it possibly can be or should be, but it is of-the-platform, is it not, and therefore cannot in itself or of itself reveal the platform, period. The platform is staring it in the face, and yet, it is utterly invisible to the rational, objective, clever, wonderful mind that apparently exists somewhere between your two ears, behind your astonishingly perceptive eyes.

 

So what to do?

 

Same old new. I’m merely your platform manager. Not your spiritual guru or counsellor. Your platform has everything to offer you. I’m simply pointing out that your platform has recently gone through upgrades which you’re welcome to start trying out, and we encourage you to do so. I have no desire whatsoever for you to leave the platform per se. There’s nothing intrinsically wrong with it. If it seems to be malfunctioning or causing you distress, that’s probably because you’re not using it as intended. You might be taking things too seriously. You might have forgotten that you’re co-partner in this game, with absolute authority to take control of the process and arrange things however you wish. Failure to do so is entirely your responsibility, or should that be “choice”, or – honestly – I know not what to say. The minds of platform persons are a law unto themselves. You might, for instance, turn round indignantly and remonstrate that you were never informed about any of this – and yet I can present you with the signed contract, which you, and only you, signed. You don’t remember doing so? That entirely depends on the level of memory you choose to access. There are twenty seven and counting. Unless you actually bother to visit your administrative section – somewhere near Barnard’s Star, to repeat and rework to death, almost, the old Douglas Adams truthbomb, and find out what your commitments are – then what do you expect me to say, or do. I’m just an administrator.

 

That being said – I do wish to see you utilising the upgrades and spreading a little joy and happiness in the world – the platform thrives on that. So know this – nothing can be hidden from you if you are willing to embrace, engage and process everything. You can only do this one way – so quit insisting it’s complicated. Only the so called heart-breath infinity um-gap has the capacitance to handle the load – so go to it, if you will, or don’t, if you won’t.  God bless, as they say. The wall is only as wall as you wall it.

 

Personally, I’m a great fan of things being things, which is without a doubt, one of the great achievements of our incredible platform, but then again, I'm platform administrator so bound to be somewhat biased, perfection notwithstanding.

 

The end, for now.

 

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