Wednesday, February 13, 2008

'What is Jewish?', says Chris.

I have a good buddy Miklos who's from Hungary. He's Jewish and has a star of David around his neck. And there we were, Miklos, another buddy Chris, and me down at the pub having a beer. And Miklos is telling us how Israel knocked back his application for citizenship and that's why he's in Oz. In Hungary after WWII his grandmother converted to Catholicism and he was raised Catholic. He had no idea he 'was Jewish' until he was in his mid-twenties. Chris and me - both astounded. Chris asks him if he goes to Synagogue and does all the religious stuff. He grins, raises his hands in a gesture of warding off and emphatically shakes his head. I sit watching Miklos and Chris is confused.
'So you're ethnic Jewish?', says Chris.
Miklos tilts his head, 'Well...'.
I pipe up, 'Your family isn't Middle Eastern surely? You'd be Ashkenazi, yeah?' Miklos nods. Chris asks and I explain - Khazar, eastern people in the Caucasus, 8th century, conversion to Judaism. Miklos nods. Perhaps he was surprised at what I knew. I have no idea. He didn't say anything.
Chris' brow is furrowed, 'I don't get it. You weren't raised Jewish, you're not religious and you're not descended from people who lived in Israel. So why are you Jewish?'
'I don't know', says Miklos with a vaguely startled expression and a variation of a shrug. I'm intrigued, but Chris is out-and-out flummoxed.
'What is Jewish?', says Chris.
'Um...', says Miklos.
'Ha! A state of mind', says I.
'Yeah, sure, maybe', says Miklos striking a European attitude that concedes the possible but doesn't pursue it. We tilt back in our seats and drink beer, the conversation having nowhere to go.

It had nowhere to go that was polite, that is. Like I'm going to say to my buddy Miklos, 'Mate, that 'state of mind' is little more than identifying oneself as being separate from those you live amongst. It's what's responsible for the hatred of the Ashkenazi Jews in almost every country they've lived in since the very beginning. It has led to, via banking, the uncaring impoverishment of the 'others', the suffering of whom is considered nothing by those who view themselves as superior. It's a circular hatefest with the us-and-them attitude creating hatred and the hatred reinforcing the us-and-them attitude. Really mate, the distinction should be shed and the hatred would, in three generations max, be as dead as a doornail. But really it's too good a gig to be let go of. There's a fortune in treasure and slaves to be had by its continuation. Not for you of course. You're poorer than I am, trapped under a mortgage. God spare us usury - it only suits the userer. But really mate, it'd be better for you and everyone else if you were to kiss this definition of yourself goodbye and just be another human.'

But like I'm going to say such a thing to person's face. A discussion of delusion such as this is beyond the pale. Friendships get broken over such things. And Miklos is a sweetheart guy. He just doesn't understand what it is he chooses to define himself as. I wonder if any Jewish people do, apart from the top dozen or so families. I'm given to thinking this tiny handful perfectly understands the nature of the delusion which enslaves the millions of expendable Jews. These being the people who live lives of fear as they run around shutting down conversations that might ultimately lay bare the twelve families. Not that the millions do it for this reason. They think it's about them, ha ha.

Jewish people, I address you - The delusion under which you define yourself is but a blink of an eye, a puff of smoke, a fictional contrivance to have you serve the interests of a mere dozen or so families who care not a whit for your wellbeing. Of course you are impressed with yourself and your culture. That's how it works. And yes, this construct is clever and in an inhuman way, genius. But the truth is, it's perfectly fucked. Forget what everyone tells you. Look at this thing clearly. It's a delusion - a mad nonsense that plugs into your understandable desire for flattery. And sure, its rejection is designed to be traumatic. If it was easy to give up it would have passed away long ago. The task ahead of you, the giving up of your us-and-them delusion, will be difficult. Me, I predict a nervous breakdown. But the rightness of it is undeniable. And if you can successfully achieve it, you will, in having saved your own life, help save the world. I wish you well.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

no need to thank us

The main thing to remember with anything that goes on in East Timor, is that Australia are always the good guys. We are there to do good and help the Timorese. How could we not want to help the poorest nation on earth?

It's a pity East Timor missed out on those spectacular gas resources just offshore. It was nearly theirs but an imaginative Australian maritime border meant that it was actually ours. But never mind, what with being all-round good guys we're only too happy to develop the gas-fields, build the pipeline, and we might, if they behave themselves, even let the East Timorese have some of the money. But not too much. They might let it go to their heads and spend it on something crazy like roads or hospitals or schools. Really, what would they do with those if they had them? Smash 'em up, I expect.

And what craziness are those Timorese up to now? Lately, Alfredo Reinado the mad, bad and dangerous to know rebel (or patriot, depending on what day it is) has shot Jose Ramos Horta, the president, and shot and missed Xanana Gusmao, the new PM. Perhaps Reinado's long friendship with Gusmao (involving handshakes, hugs, congratulatory letters, friendly visits to Gusmao's house, and not forgetting declarations of allegiance) put a tear in Reinado's eye and caused him and his similarly tearful fellow-ambushers to miss. Who knows?

We in Australia like Gusmao. He's exactly the right sort of fellow. We also know that Reinado is a mad villain. We know that because he went crazy-ape bonkers and destabilised East Timor when the wicked dwarf Mari Alkatiri was PM. We never liked Alkatiri. He thought the gas belonged to Timor and wanted Australia and our kind-hearted gas developers to pay full-tote odds or fuck off. How dare he seek a deal with the Chinese?! What an ingrate. Not only is he ugly and short, and a Muslim(!), but I can't recall a single instance of him gushing about how great Australia is.

Not forgetting the Roman Catholic church in East Timor - they really hated Alkatiri! He rudely wanted to have a separation of church and state and to make religious education optional. The anti-christ in person! After the church (and their helpful Australian advisers) unsuccessfully tried to convince various East Timorese army regiments to bring a coup against Alkatiri, no one was surprised that Major Reinado did the right thing and started shooting the wicked army members that refused to join the church's uprising. Chaos. 'Alkatiri made me do it!', said Reinado astoundingly. Um... okay, sure, why not? That doesn't make a lick of sense but let's not spoil the party. Seeya Alkatiri, ya evil ingrate midget party-pooper! Thank God that fine fellow Gusmao was there to take the reins. He understands the rightness of us drilling the gas, which is ours.

Sensibly, none of us paid any attention when SBS journo John Martinkus, an old East Timor hand and johnny-on-the-spot, investigated Reinado's uprising and found that it was complete bullshit with the local cops and members of the military all as thick as thieves, and all gormlessly pointing fingers back at Gusmao. My favourite bit was when a local commander called up his boss and whilst firing in the air said that he was under attack. On camera! Those whacky foreigners!

Really, what was Martinkus on about? Bullshit obviously, since not a single media organisation paid any attention. Not apart from Rupert Murdoch's minions that is, who bravely attacked Martinkus as a mad, drug-taking, child-molester, or some such ad hominem. Quite right. Was Martinkus sacked? I certainly haven't seen him since. Serve him right if he was.

And Alkatiri? Those useless bloody Timorese lawyers must have screwed up because the wild charges against him involving massacres and mass graves (no really!) went up in smoke and he remains a free man. I expect the smoke was due to Alkatiri digging up the bodies and burning them before reburying them. Villains do that, you know.

And spare a thought for poor old Reinado, now declared an outlaw. He ran around in the jungle uttering mad gibberish about being betrayed and accusing everybody. He was chased hither and yon but lobbed up on the TV occasionally, variously being ferried about in Australian helicopters or at his home with Australian SAS soldiers as escorts. Australians are much given to modesty and the troops were not unreasonably shy in the media spotlight. Later when busybody Portuguese peacekeepers poked their nose in and arrested Reinado, all the Australian supervised guards went walkabout. And so did Reinado and fifty of his fellows. All this across the road from an Australian Army base. The devil! And then, there he was back in Australian choppers again. Sure, why not? We declare him the Scarlet Pimpernel reborn.

It's clear now that Reinado was not just murderous, but completely nuts, just as you'd expect from a foreign jibber-jabberer. Apparently he attempted to murder Pres. Ramos Horta as they walked out of a peace meeting at Ramos Horta's home. Now that's a first: he heads into the lion's den, has a chat, and as he heads out, he slips the wink to his waiting fellows and they start shooting. Genius. Why nobody ever thought of doing this before is a complete stumper. Perhaps because the only person who ended up dead* was Reinado? Oh well. We're not surprised. Foreigners always do things that make no sense.

Or was there a meeting at all? Now it seems it was an ambush-like event. But not an actual ambush because it would easily qualify as the most crap ambush in history. Rightly, the word 'ambush' is being scrupulously avoided in the media. Just recently Reinado spent a year at the Australian Defence Academy, doncha know. Did he learn ambushes there? Obviously not, or if he did, he learnt them very badly. But he is foreign, so what do you expect? To avoid casting an unwarranted slur on the ADA let's avoid mentioning it at all. Everyone seems to agree that 'coup attempt' is the appropriately vague expression.

Peace meeting treachery or non-ambush, either way it's a cold hard certainty that Reinado was not shot elsewhere, dumped outside Pres. Ramos Horta's house, with he being shot for realism (and educational purposes), further rounds fired in the air, and not forgetting a few slugs for PM Gusmao's 4WD just to complete the picture. We know this because the media has utterly avoided any possibility apart from the one involving Reinado as the worst coup-plotting assassin on the planet. That he failed to kill anyone except himself and succeeded in consolidating Gusmao in power is perfectly uninteresting, not to mention unspoken proof of the idiocy of foreigners.

Happily for the Timorese, Australia has sent another thousand troops along with members of Mick Keelty's muslim-hunting Feds. We have not seized control of East Timor. Perish the thought. The East Timorese, with Gusmao as satrap completely independent president, are still in power. They should feel free to run their own country. But they should also keep in mind that they are foreigners with almost no idea of how to do anything right. But they need not worry, Australians are selfless givers and international good guys. Under our sage stewardship they can look forward to (praise the day!) climbing from poorest nation on earth to second poorest. When that happens we'll even spring for Australian flags for them to wave. And Australia asks for nothing in return apart from the billions of dollars worth of gas and oil that are rightfully ours anyway.

People of East Timor! Three cheers for your Australian saviours!

Hip Hip...


*Two years later and I thought it would be amusing to illustrate this piece. In going through the process of finding and editing the various photos, something struck me about a hitherto unseen picture of Reinado's corpse I came across. It's above - go have a look. This is the picture that did not run in the Australian media. The picture that did run here showed his body from his feet and completely failed to show the wound in his head. Which was a shame because no one got to see what a perfect right-through-the-eye shot it was.

It seems that in spite of his seizing of the initiative/element of surprise, not only did Reinado fail to hit anything in any useful fashion at all, but astoundingly one of his taken-by-surprise "holy shit, are they shooting at us?!" ambush victims somehow managed to drill Reinado right through the eye with a single perfect shot. Wow.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Saying sorry is bullshit

Here in Oz, we're thick in a discussion about saying sorry to Aborigines. I shall confuse things initially by declaring that white people saying sorry to Aborigines is bullshit. Don't wig out yet, just keep reading.

'Sorry' is what you say when you bump into someone. For obvious, simple and accidental events such as this, one word will suffice. The saying of it implicitly acknowledges three things: the presence of the other; that a transgression has occurred; and the nature of the transgression, which in this case was nothing much.

It's the three acknowledgements which are important. The word 'sorry' is merely a polite shorthand to achieve them. In more complex events, a single word like sorry is insufficient. It might cover the first two aspects of the acknowledgement but the third is woefully unaddressed. And the third is the crucial pivot. Really it's the only bit that counts. If it is done correctly the first two are taken as read.

Just saying sorry is a piece of piss. Anyone can do it, even through gritted teeth. A teenager who has conducted a screaming match ruining a social occasion on account of not being allowed to go and hang out at the mall might, without too much difficulty, be able to say 'Sorry'. He or she might even be able to say, 'Sorry I ruined everyone's dinner'. Each of these steps is do-able without puncturing the teenager's delusional view of themself and the world. But imagine the teenager saying the following - 'Sorry I ruined everyone's dinner. I viewed my own petty needs as being more important than the harmony that existed here. I realise that all my life, things have been done for me and really the least I can do in return is to consider others and attempt to be pleasant.' It's an unlikely prospect isn't it? You can see how the word 'sorry' is almost superfluous now.

The reason one never hears such words is because it requires one to examine the nature of their delusion. Delusion defines the self - for everyone, that is, except Buddha (and Bodhisattvas, sure). But forget them - none of us is Buddha and delusion is who we are. A true discussion about a transgression against another is actually a discussion of who one is.

And that must be fought tooth and nail. Sure enough, here we are in Australia and everyone agrees that we should say 'sorry'. But instantly we're bogged down about what we're apologising for exactly. Should we include the phrase 'stolen generation'? What if we replace the word 'stolen' with 'taken'? How about 'mistaken'? How about 'accidentally misplaced'?

God spare us. Why don't we just tell those unappreciative, grog-soaked, bludging, black bastards to get off their arses and work. We made this country great and those fuckers think we owe them a living. And yeah, SORRY. Happy now?

Nobody says - self-impressed white people can go fuck themselves. People tell me I should be a teacher. Ha ha ha. No really. Okay then, cop this history -

In Fourteen Hundred and Ninety Two when Columbus sailed the ocean blue, the continents of North America, South America, Sub-Saharan Africa and Australia had no concept of private ownership. They didn't travel great distances and steal other people's shit. How would that profit a man, said they. Until we killed them that is. And yes, they were humans and fought their neighbours. But us imagining their savagery was worse than ours is laughable. Never mind Mel Gibson's bullshit Apocalypto slaughter-fest, we made these people look like a bunch of saints. Their philosophies, their social arrangements, their music, art and poetry, and even their science were nothing in the face of our murderous certainty of our own greatness.

So, might a good starting point for us acknowledging our transgression (which, since we're saying sorry, obviously exists) be the fact that Aborigines' lack of a 'deed' showing ownership of this country was not a failure on their part. (Like we'd have paid any attention anyway). And us showing them how it's done was not a testament to our superiority. It was merely one state of mind meeting another. One acquisitive, one not. And acquisitive is not a compliment. In this spirit of acquisitiveness, we would teach the aborigines that: flora is to be cut down; fauna is to be shot; the earth is to be dug up; and the rivers emptied. We would render their way of life impossible. (And ours too soon enough). That they choose not to embrace our societal arrangements does not condemn them.

Me, I view their distaste for impossibly complicated arrangements of ownership, paper money, credit cards, shares, mortgages, bills, ID's and Bundy clocks to be perfectly understandable. What do these things have to do with humans and the astounding world in which they live? I'd happily argue that they're a denial of that. And yes, they have problems with alcohol. 40,000 years without alcohol, forced into a world-view that makes no sense to them and we expect them to just say no, to face this madness sober? Shit. Anglo-Saxons wagging their collective finger at others' misuse of alcohol is the height of hypocrisy. We're the drinking-est people that ever lived.

So. How about that for a foundation on which to build a discussion of our transgression? Let's now progress to how harmony might be achieved between people who must necessarily live with each other. Between a truthful discussion of who we are and an angry 'sorry' hissed through gritted teeth, there's a lot of middle ground. It's not an either/or choice. It's a continuum. How honest we want to be with ourselves is up to us.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

An open letter to Kevin Rudd

Dear Mr. Rudd,

With interest rates going up and further rises forecast, the Reserve Bank certainly seems to be in the news recently. We witness discussion after discussion circling the topic but we never quite get to the centre of it. I'm wondering if I might ask you to clear some things up for me.

In your campaign commercials you brought up the topic of the Reserve. You swore to uphold its independence. Why did you do this? Surely these commercials were dedicated to convincing voters that you would address their concerns and thus that they should vote for you. These concerns are expressed in party meetings, letters and phone calls from constituents, and polls and research. Given that your advertising dollar is limited the party selects the most important of these concerns and packages them into an ad. I imagine in thirty seconds one might sensibly address perhaps half a dozen topics. Money aside, to address too many topics dissipates the message and only serves to confuse.

One has to assume that you and your advisers were of the opinion that voters were particularly concerned about the Reserve Bank's independence. This is astounding. In my travels, I've never heard a single person express such a thought, nor anything like. Sure, they're concerned about interest rates but how does this translate to wanting the Reserve Bank to remain independent? Does anyone get the connection? If voters stopped and thought about it, wouldn't they merely be scratching their heads?

Independent? Under whom? The government doesn't control the Reserve? Why not? Given the sine qua non ability of the Reserve to control our economy through monetary policy why shouldn't we control it through our elected representatives? Do we not own it? Is it not ours? Whose is it? Who owns the Reserve Bank? Why are successive governments reduced to pleading with it? What is this independence? Whom does it serve? Why do we imagine that people acting in a perfectely opaque manner, free of censure, act in our interests?

The interest rate the Reserve charges is for the money it puts into our economy. Why do we pay interest on our money? Isn't it ours? To whom does the interest go? And why does it exist at all? If we wished to control inflation why wouldn't we control our own money supply and simply print less of it? Or withdraw some of it as it entered the banks? Or perhaps, most crucially, print less of it to begin with? Why do we leave it to an 'independent' body to print as much as they like and then control the resulting inflation cycle by making us pay more for it? What sort of crummy mechanism is this?

Just yesterday, you said you would do everything in your power to control inflation. Would I be right in thinking that addressing the sanctity of the Reserve Bank's position of primacy is not within your power? What am I as a voter to think of this? It seems that not only may you not do anything about it, but you may not even discuss it. Astounding! What is the purpose of Government if something as singularly crucial as our own currency is not under our control? Who controls whom, here? And who were you addressing when you said you would ensure the independence of the Reserve Bank? The voters? Or the people who control the Reserve Bank? In whose interests are you working?

Monday, February 4, 2008

Me and You and Us


I'm a complete idiot. I usedn't to be. I used to be a model citizen. I was a cog in the advertising machine. I had an apartment, a motorcycle, a regular life. I had internet banking, credit cards, driver's license, insurance, power, gas and phone bills. I paid tax. But I never seemed to have any money for some reason. My apartment was not flash and my clothes were cheap. God knows where the money went. All of the above seemed to eat it.

I grew to hate it all. My work was bullshit - deadlines, stress, arguments, finger-pointing - all so that we might better convince teenagers to pester their parents to buy them more worthless shit. And God knows how many people excitedly asked about my job because their teenage kid wanted to do what I did, ha ha ha. Cringe! So hateful was it all, that I would go home and get stoned every night. But there's no future in being stoned. The Buddha was right about clouding the mind.

Outside of me, there was the world, or at least what I understood of it courtesy of Time magazine. I started reading it when I was ten if you can believe that. And it rendered me cleverly stupid for decades. Until the Iraq war whereupon I found myself driven to the net. I felt I had to do this what with Iraq making no sense at all, not even to a Time reader. There I realised that the utter disparity between the MSM and the net was impossible. If the war was such utter bullshit, what else was up for grabs? Ha! Everything! It was all bullshit. Everything I knew, was bullshit - the past, the present, the future. I had been deceived. I'm still pissed off about it.

But never mind. And yet as it was I simply couldn't continue. What to do? My genius plan was to gather all my friends, cash in our assets (I had the least of course) and buy a place in the country (for cash, natch) and make a commune and grow food. This was to be no leisurely walk, it was a sprint, said I. What an idiot. My friends had jobs, mortgages, kids in school - all the ties that bind. None of them liked their jobs but that was beside the point. And crucially they weren't on the net (not beyond anyway) and didn't believe anything I was saying. The net's 99% shit, said they. It is if you don't seek, said I uselessly. Really, what was I thinking of? It was a fool's errand. There was to be no collective. It was just me.

And sure, myriad things happened in between then and now. Whatever. I arrived at a singular place. I now no longer officially exist. No bank, no tax, no name on anything. It's do-able, but barely. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone. But I am free and I have nothing to lose. There's a lot to be said for it. Ask any bum.


And what? Do I really think I have something to say worth listening to? Ha ha ha. Yeah, why not? Everyone, do what I've done! I recommend it! Render yourself penniless. Live on fresh air. Be a disappointment to everyone you know. At this time, in this society, only an idiot would do such a thing.

But that was now - this is then. And 'then' is what's coming. And something is coming. Who knows what precisely. Or when. Let's just say that it will look nothing like now. Everything we understand will be blown to the weeds. We'll look at each with other with appalled, dismayed faces. We'll watch it on the TV. Not on the net. It will be gone of course. It cannot be allowed to live. In fact this confessional tone is on account of us maybe not having much time left. Better to get last words in early, than too late. I could be wrong about the timing. My record is pretty good, except for the timing. And timing alone will make a fool of a man. In the age of instant gratification, a prediction that doesn't come true straight away is obviously bullshit.

To hell with timing. I just wonder if the things that empower us might not enslave us. Did somebody say power? It's an interesting word. Consider its two senses here - They who have the power have the power. It's obvious really. And you? You don't have power - the corporations do. And they sell it to you. Or not. Enron showed us how power works. That's why the government is uninterested in spending money on providing each home with solar energy. Power may not be so dissipated. The money will be spent to ensure power is concentrated in the hands of a few. That's why Australia, the sunburnt country, is absurdly talking about nuclear energy. Think this through - give equal time to the concept of who ends up with the power.

And money? No one needs money. In and of itself, it's useless. It's merely a contrivance to create a buffer between you and your real needs - food and shelter. The monopoly that controls money controls your relationship with food and shelter. If you control your own food and shelter (and power, sure) you are free of the control of others. Easier said than done, ha ha. That's the whole idea. On your own it's nearly impossible. The ties that bind are there to ensure it doesn't happen. A collective response is the only answer. Anyone who wants to hang on to the mad dream of individuality will be doomed. It will not be possible without surrendering oneself to the power of others. It suits them to have you 'stand' divided. It can't be done. Those divided, fall. Those united, stand. You know this is true.

What then does this fool have to say to you? Be mindful. Wonder at the nature of the things you 'need'. Do they free you or shackle you? Can you escape? How? Cast off fear. It is the opposite of thought. It not only stops you coming up with answers, it stops you coming up with questions. Your fear suits those who would control you. Let go of the self. It is the source of fear. People obsessed with themselves doom others. And ultimately themselves as well. Uniting with others will dissipate your fear and make you stronger.


Forget 'me'. Forget 'you'. There's no future in it. Only 'we' can prevail. United we stand, divided we fall.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

the truth and the way

There was a fellow who said that if the lie is big enough, people will refuse to deny it. In this he was absolutely right. As the size of the lie approaches a near infinite totality we are no longer forced to merely deny that 2+2=5. Any dimwit can do that. We are forced to deny 2+2=5, and 2⁹⁹+2⁹⁹=5⁹⁹, and everything in between. And beyond. Who the fuck can do that? The size, complexity and number of lies is overwhelming. So overwhelming, that an understanding of the totality - ie. that EVERYTHING we're told is bullshit - almost inevitably produces a variation of nervous breakdown.

What an unappealing prospect. Who would choose such a thing? Nobody. How many out there reading this, have had the experience of their friends conceding that 'this' doesn't add up and 'that' doesn't add up - ad infinitum - but refusing to arrive at the logical and inevitable conclusion? To do so would equal not only a rejection of everything one ever knew but a rejection of oneself. It must be shied away from. The final step must not be taken. This is the beauty of the big lie. It's a lie so big that the gainsaying of it is inconceivable, beyond the ability of rational people. It is beyond our ken.

And of course, only the recipient of the lies is thus befuddled. The liars know what's true. They don't struggle with 2⁹⁹+2⁹⁹=5⁹⁹. They know that the equation is pointless and the answer is irrelevant. Telling a lie does not do your head in. Only trying to figure it out does. The confusion that lies create is a one-way street. The masters of lies are thus the only people who know the truth. To all intents and purposes, they are the truth and the way. Oops, does that sound familiar? Of course. When I said in a previous post that the self-impressed are honoured and revered by none I was wrong. They are honoured and revered by all.

Those lied to, honour those who know. Did you know that the word 'noble' comes from the same Latin root as 'know'? Those who know are noble. The ignorant, which is us, honour and revere them. We do it every time we attend church - a church that we madly believe is not a Jewish sect. Never mind that the founder of it was Jewish and that its key book is the Jewish bible and it acknowledges the chosen-by-god primacy of the Jews. This book is merely the 2⁹⁹+2⁹⁹=5⁹⁹ problem writ infinitely large. It's easy enough to utter but attempting to solve it produces only befuddlement.

Read this quote from Ron Suskind in the NYT - "The aide said that guys like me were "in what we call the reality-based community," which he defined as people who "believe that solutions emerge from your judicious study of discernible reality." ... "That's not the way the world really works anymore," he continued. "We're an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you're studying that reality - judiciously, as you will - we'll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that's how things will sort out. We're history's actors and you, all of you, will be left to just study what we do."

Forget the word 'empire'. It's misdirection. Listen to the voice. It is the voice which the fellow in the first para warned us of. It is the voice of the liar. Read it again. Marvel at what kind of person would say such a thing. He is above everyone in the world who is constrained by 'reality'. A reality that he has made. Clearly he is unconstrained by his own reality. He made it. And he's not an 'actor'. This is another lie. Actors say what they're told. This fellow is actually a director. Any religious people out there? What would you call the 'director of reality'. Would you call him 'God'? Does this fellow not view himself as God-like? Can you hear the condescension in his voice? Can you hear him gloating at his own power? He says we will 'study' what he does. But he knows that there is no point studying lies. It's an in-joke that only he and his very good friends get. He's laughing at us, the befuddled. We are worshippers attempting to find meaning in the 'Words of God'. What does 2⁹⁹+2⁹⁹=5⁹⁹ mean? Study hard so that you may know the truth and the way, says the self-declared God.

People who view themselves thus are unconstrained by anything. Since they view their fellow humans as lesser creatures - as beasts - they treat us the same way we treat cattle. Our lot is theirs to decide. Our happiness, health or life are nothing to them. Kill us, starve us, tear our families apart, what does it matter? They care precisely for us like we care for cattle. If a feedlot cow is fat and healthy, it's because it suits the owner. Are you fat and healthy? If the owner could teach the cattle to kill each other, do you think he wouldn't do so? Then he'd just sit back and watch. And laugh, probably. Ha! Look at those stupid cows! What if he could teach them to build him castles, and spa-baths, and boats with helicopters on the back? What if they all trooped themselves off to church and worshipped he who was the truth and the way? Who wouldn't be bemused by such idiot beasts?

Only dimwits tell small lies. People can figure that out and will rightly hate them for it. It's proof of a smallness of ambition. Don't think small. Think big. Concede no limit to your ambition. Aspire to be God. All it takes is for the size and number of your lies to more nearly approach the infinite. As the befuddlement of the masses approaches the infinite, so does your embodiment of being the truth and the way. All bow down before you. Except me. I reject all your shit. I embrace a single truth - The only certainty is change.