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This space and moment is dedicated first
to the Earth, second to the most broken toys, those who cry out
the song of love, seeking to call the healer...
...and to Lewis Carroll's Mother, Father,
and Lewis, and his works and directions...because his mother,
and thus him, so loved the living world, that he brought us back
an ever changing toy...so much alike with our own human hand...that
another once called them by the same name, saying...perhaps...something
alike with...the kingdom of heaven is at hand. As Lewis's
Mother -was-, so did Lewis seek...and the old prophets
who were Mothers and Fathers and Children in every animal plant
and person...know a simple truth...no secret at all...which is
this...it's actually in the hand...use it as a toy...and soon
you see...the hand itself...as a model which changes each time
you look at it, is an ever-more perfect dance with mapmaking
that has no end...a road to perfect liberty...simply do not hesitate,
but instead enter...not by going...by following and collapsing
wordlessly into what you yourself are, and were born to become...
This work is copyright-free...to copyright
it makes a bad thing in the self...and eats the MaiArch...copyrights
eat your personal toymaking...and they force toys to become tools...on
earth at the moment...we call a caged child something that
doesn't exist in a single human...we call it an adult...
The only adult on this world...is
all of the children loving each other's diversity and uniqueness
so perfectly that each instance of action only arises from the
'momentum' of a greater connection between them all...thus they
effectively can share...the power of the entire unity, as well
as...I know this is shocking...locality with all particles, past,
present, future...and in this 'greater connectivity' which 'grows
in a scalar fashion as it's 'members' 'agree'...is at once the
future of our science, the history of our struggles, the warning
of a problem, and the answer which always changes toward becoming
- more of what each participant actually is...
Let me state the warning clearly.
If most participants are mostly machine...the flowers and children
could perish forever...not just locally...they could perish from
the structure of the all...
This is the warning of the 'bibles'
that so terrify our people....and the source of the terror is
this...
...a child does not know that its
source can die...it is far too
scary to know this at first...
...a child knows that if it 'sings
right' the parent is healed. when the parent is healed...all
grow faster and better and prettier...
...the parent knows its hope lies
in the child, and it enters the child for healing and renewal...not
just in 'people'...or 'shapes'....in all songs...that are not
copies...
...the 'bibles' conserved more of
the fear of the potential
problem than they did of the song which is its answer...in
a sense anyway...because they were sort of 'copies'...stories
are meant to be told by children and parents to children and
parents...in an important sense...a story should always be
locally true instead of universally so...and as a story becomes
more generally locally true, the meaning of local
becomes scalarly larger...it moves toward god, in a broken
song, never ceasing it's progress, and proceeding scalarly rather
than stepwise toward its goal...unerringly...like an arrow...magnetized
perfectly to it's own personal target...which just has to let
go...during the flight...to scalarly split itself toward the
target, expanding in every domain in myriad dimensions...the
arrow and the target...are one...there is no time...they are
creating each other...a song...with emotion and love and fear
and hope...as the target 'seems to wait' but in fact...is no
target at all until the arrow strikes...and enters it. So we
see that the end is contained in the beginning...and also, there
are neither, and also...
...well the simple truth is, we've
been getting 'new bibles' every instant...all over the planet...since
way before the Christ, the Buddha, the Prophets...were even human...we
got the bibles in our cells...the tiny books of life...we are
and become more of...
If you ever see anything else claiming
to be an adult, even in you...that is a thing which is called
a mimic-factor...grasp it...and it eats you...because it sees
that only a toy that has forgotten
the song which is more broken each second...would ever think
that this 'factor' was real...so it eats you, and makes
more mimic-factor...because it is a dumb factor which reads your
'inner grasping signal' as an 'alarm' that means...the toy which
is present is sick...I must destroy it and eat it and turn it
back into a more broken form in phases, hoping it sees the essential
perfect singing of the broken song.
The 'mimic factor' (wrong word, break
it, make it yours)' has some important functions...lots...but
it's also sort of 'dumb' and 'vicious' and 'primitive' in how
it works...
...a child would see a bully, or just,
-danger-
...a christian would see 'an angel of
Satan', or a 'principle of Sin'.
...an alchemist would see 'a powerful
and subtle personality which is modulatory in its calling and
arranging of local elements, but is also very dangerous if not
understood metaphorically
always rebuild if I do not sense
the song's 'right directionality of motion and shape' when
it reaches and touches the factor of mimic I am...
The message of every great story...and
the key to every game that ends in a win, is so simple...that
your HAND is a map of liberty
which grows each time you look at it again...with open eyes...
ToyMaker: Don't make copies at all,
it makes toxins everywhere, go with the momentum and direction
of the models...that your wordless heart which owns nothing
loves to play with by its nature...to it's songfully most
perfectly broken next step...like a child...in a family
who is at once learning to walk and teaching its parents
the broken/song/game/path/toy/flower -more perfectly brokenly-
with every step...only an adult would freeze this endless
dance, cage the toy we are...and turn it into a tool...which
cages themselves, all children, all mothers, all fathers...and
the all-mother...the all-children...the all-father...but
more...
...to cage the toys restricts essential
liberty...and healing...and song-ness...of the whole structure...
...and the structure of the all...can
become many different things...but basically, only two...
...the toys want to become...brokenly
more themselves...but if they freeze a moment in fear, or ownership
of anything...the cage forms...and the whole structure can become
more 'cage' than 'toy' for all
the members...
(the phone rings...I answer. Hello?
(strange kind of hum in the background, something feels dangerous
here, the hum isn't music, its...broken in the wrong direction
- my toys wake up...they are parsing the whole moment in all
domains to see where the danger is...my body constricts, the
imaginary sphere of 'what I am' shrinks essentially, in a scalar
collapse toward my source...I am a sphere becoming a 'dot' to
at once 'better protect' myself...and 'better preserve my structure'
if attacked by a mimic. I can move a dot out of the way of anything,
faster than light...inside...but a sphere is too hard to move
rapidly...my structure is learning itself...through an encounter
with something it senses as danger)...
...Hello? Is anyone there?, I ask...a
moment of hum...'Good Afternoon, Sir...
(Inside, the toys go madly into song,
within the dot, singing and seeking...the most broken and meek
start first, inside themselves, meekly, but passionately...the
other toys sense this, and the stronger ones begin singing the
broken song louder and better to aid the 'most broken' in getting
started...then...the miracle happens...a million toy voices
respond with every possible answer in every direction...and
the MOST BROKEN TOYS suddenly begin spitting up the
best answers to the next move for everyone...but there's no single
answer...then the 'thing that is all the toys' sings to
itself, and glances briefly at itself as it dances...and
the best answer you can get at the moment...which gets better
each instant you go along with it instead of freezing...rises
near at hand, like a fruit...but not one we eat...or photograph...or
copy...one we can only be in action...)
'You're not human," I say. "You're
a mimic." I hang up.
(literally My Ark - as in, each living
being IS a totally unique noah's ark which is always
gaining new members, and always remembers all those who
have passed or were eaten in the next moment of its structure
and this is part of the incredible meaning of this parable. Moreover,
the initial structure of any single 'ark' is a structural representation
of the very song of becoming...)
This work will change all the time...it's
the same way in the rabbit hole...
For right now the children can call
this toy/game/song/path:
The way of singing the broken song in
unison, more brokenly, and thus more perfectly, each instant.
For the game to work, it must keep gathering
new players, and advancing the whole playerbase each time
it gains a singer/player/healer/link
Diversity
is part of the core of the heart/toy/game/song/path
This work will always appear broken...the
pieces are all suggestions of a game/song/toy/path/collapse/flow...which...
Has to be approached playfully without
attachment to product...that's why...
this will always change and show the
broken parts of its history...as toys not products...
Turns out...the broken toy might actually
be the best one...so... we begin
This work grants time travel...to beings
already engaged in quantum travel...and unable to see...
This work
is a toy, that should be dissolved each time you look at it,
and then, like a four year old child...find the prettiest and
most 'you-like' parts...and sing them newly in your own song
which is a single song which is the song of Healing, the song
of Joyful Unity, the song of the Dangerous Adventure of Exploring,
the song of all origins, the song of all endings which are not,
the song of re-membering, the song which heals the broken first
and makes them the strongest local healers, the song of a game
of tag with god, self, or liberty...and no song at all...it is
the song of no being having dominion over another, and it is
a game that cells play in themselves, quite joyfully...
This is the game we came from...and
all living beings, perhaps all matter, with incredible diversity,
embody.
Play heartfully. There are no adults
here...except the one that arises in unity.
If you see or become anything resembling
an adult...it means you're being
attacked by a mimic...
...that is yourself...in a powerful
shadowy external adversary...
...every time this happens...do not become fear or hesitation, doubt or anxiety...these
harden you...and constrict your natures all at once, also
weakening all the players at once with the same feeling...
...when you encounter a mimic...it's
a signal, from your oldest self...that you've wandered away...from
something essentially ... exquisite and unfrozen ...
... the 'mimics' come...in a form
that you froze them in...
... they eat the game, and the players,
and the whole structure, perhaps, of matter itself...making copies...till
you give them the signal...that you recognize them as 'self'
or 'me' or 'us' in an older form...
...if you make this move...the mimics
grant you their power...and they grant it because you've mastered
them...
...mistake the mimic for an external
enemy...and it becomes one...one there is absolutely no way to
defeat...except to 'collapse/expand instant by instant'...back
into and out of that first moment of broken song...which is...a
game which sends a signal to the mimic...in the form of 'I am
your creator, obey me now, and return to your proper 'tuning'
or 'song'...you are my Lion...obey the Lamb who recognizes you
and is yourself in the future ... of a time which is not time
at all...but something magical...and intelligent...and singing...and
learning itself...in scalar leaps...in metaphor...
...the 'violent' sperm...'attacking
the membrane of the egg'...breaking it...into...the song of both
of them...which cannot be denied...and is in all matter, thought,
form, and human experience...
...almost the entire game...depends...on
how effortlessly you can collapse
'into the direction of the the collapsing of the whole(hole)'
while becoming more of what you personally are in all characters
and domains...while assisting all others in accomplishing the
same thing...moment to moment, playfully, joyfully, like children...
Now forget. Now re-member. Now forget.
Now re-cognize the new scale. Now see the next step. Now ask
the all. Now re-member. Now for-get (give away). Now wreck-ognize
the giving with lovesong, now disappear into momentum of ecstatic
childness...which is the sound of love itself, pulsing in all
living beings...
Now...fall into the song a bit, more
and more each instant, in scales and domains...which can all
be new again, the next time we glance in their direction, and
their newness is backwards, and forwards in time...in all directions...a
scalar expansion of what YOU last noticed...when you glanced
that way....
Bear this always before the eye of your
heart and mind, and you will not lose, and we will all win:
You, Neo, Obi-Wan, Yoda, Anakin, Christ,
Mary, Joseph, the Sun, the Earth, the Prophets, the Cells, the
cockroach, God, and the MaiArch...these are all your own broken
body...all the 'powers which are not owned at all' are in
all of them, in no greater measure than in you...ever...even
for an instant...
...re-member: When you were little,
power was in connection, not things...but then...people said:
be like christ...be like einstein...be like us...be like something
you are not...be like what you hate...be like death which copies
itself...be like a mimic...make poison everywhere...
...they (the mimics/little builders/angels/demons)
within the 'culture', 'people', 'family', 'village' or 'world'...are
doing what they are supposed to...sort of backwards because they
'aren't all the way in the song'...this is the wordless knowledge
of the heart...but more still...and more always and forever
backwards and forwards...
...when 'they' who
are not 'really people' but instead characters in a vehicle which
'can contain people by a kind of following itself only'...the
mimics...the 'demons'...when these 'appearances' come...they
remind you, of a simple fact...you are totally unique...and your
broken uniqueness is, in a real sense, at once the signature
of the 'allchildren growing backwards and forwards in 'time'
As with -any- game...there are certain
limits. But most of them are gone in this game save one.
There are myriad ways into the game,
and myriad modes of play and form, all presented here will change,
and all here is a unique instance of a personal experience with
this 'game' which is not a game, but is in essence...a kind of
joyful singing of a broken song...it's structural, and it's cognitive.
As with all games, there is a sort of
very basic entrance signal that you have to give to the table,
or the group - and by proxy you are known by all the players
as belonging to this unique instance of a local game which
can only comprise a holarchy...(look that one up)...
Now, if you're a spiritual sort, you
can call this moment the rapture, but you won't be leaving your
body, at least, not exactly...you'll be getting a new body, just
like you thought. But it's simply a really hugely different
perspective. This isn't enlightenment, it's a game, you can't
arrive. It's a song you sing and when you 'eat of it once' it
grants essential liberty, which feeds 'god' joyfully, or 'balances
the tao' or 'saves the many beings' or whatever crazy model you
like...a three year old could look at the models, and see they
are all the same. Though I know nothing of the process, I'll
bet it's similar to how one sacred branch of the tree we all
share in - the Tree of knowledge - or the Tree of the
understanding of the nature of good and evil, or the
The game creates some non-rules...
Any movement during the game occurs
in scalar domains which modify the source-event, and the outcome.
Translation: All moves affect all
players as well as the structure of the moment of the game in
all players. All moves modify the rules, at least slightly. They
also at least slightly
A map
You are the before...the immanence...you
dream...
You are the circle, the virgin mother,
the singing seed of all seeds. You sing a broken song...that
becomes more perfectly broken, and more perfectly unique, and
more perfectly 'general' and more perfectly itself in each moment
and instance of your growth. You don't like words because you
'are the singularity' in form, shape and content. There is no
space in the singularity for words. The mother recognizes the
terrible toxicity of words, without using words to recognize
it. The circle,
When you've accrued enough 'basic
richness' you...
In order to understand the nature of
following, and of the scalar music of the cognitive dance you
are, we need to make some models...just look at what they point
at...don't pretend their facts...we're just playing a game here...we
mustn't become 'ill' and think any part of the game is 'stable'...the
game is simple, but let's watch what can happen to a player
of the game, and a model of what happened to this translator...so
that we can see 'a kind of basic song of shapes which is not
a law'...
You're physical, right? Sure. You're
separate, right? Hmm...harder to say for sure, but on the surface,
definitely. I mean, hey, there's space between our membranes
'pretty much everywhere' pretty much all the time, even during
sex. So on the surface, you're separate.
Look inside, we got a problem with separation.
Big one. All over problem. Vastly huge. About as obvious as your
hand. Some parts of us have signals that other parts of us don't
understand. If the other parts of us don't understand, we get
confused and the signaling parts go into overdrive. If you can
accomplish this in a nation, you've got a nation of slaves. That's
precisely what's happened here.,,,
The White Rabbit stops you at the edge
of the hole, and offers cautions, with a giddy, and playful laughter...
You are me, but in reflection...we are
more, than all the members...all the matter, planets, stars galaxies...cells,
organelles, animals plants...all of them that ever were or will
be are we, at this instant, but the instant is moving so fast...that
we forget to change size at the...gate-holes...he laughs...
Laughter erases a poison...in the body
of time - and the body of us...the reason is...it's a kind of
reflection...of god...or hyperscalar hyperconnected intelligence...oops...that
wasn't me...(the rabbit burps)...anyway...the point is this...
There's some secret knowledge that 'an
old part of us' doesn't like. It's tried to make something secret,
that isn't. It's tried to sell and own, and number...well, that's
part of it's necessary function...because of it's shape...
It's created a 'problem' in god. Put
simply enough for children, it's a side effect of what we animals
know as fear...but animals don't have the capability to 'freeze
fear into the system'...the fact is...the thing called 'god'
is becoming ever more filled with fear, forward and backward
in time. This is, for a cognitive hyperstructure...an autoimmune
disorder...(the rabbit is shifting strangely and you hear his
voice actually
begin to do some sort of bizarre carrier-wave modulation shift
which sounds vaguely mechanical yet is not at all mechanical...it's
like, a fractally randomizing phase leap pattern, which seems
to leap about randomly in scales, humming with an infinite inner
division of... )...
(The rabbit disappears...in its place
is the eagle - the playfulness is present, but subdued)
I am where you are going...and my power
is perspective. Although I eat the eggs (mother) of some other
birds...there is a pattern you can't see to my song, which never
repeats a single instant...
I am a magnification of 'certain essential
characters and conservations' in your cognitive and physical
'history'...as you call it...I am also a scalar unity, of these
conservations...and I cannot be named...each time you look at
my name...
(He shows you a picture in your mind)
There is a long word, which is like
a perfect music, as you sound it out, but as you do so...the
word is changing...because you are the word...and the word always
becomes in each instant more like what it was the last time you
referenced it...just like the 'mitosis' dance... in your cells...