The Gods, Les Visible, and Pascal's Wager

What's a bloke to do? Here I am with a desktop overflowing with unfinished pieces - 'World Death Organisation', 'Satanism and the Self', 'Bonuses for the Most Expensive Fuckwits in History', 'The Daily Global Fear and Desire Index' etc. etc. - and all of them knocked back.


I knocked them back because... who gives a shit? Or to put it another way, we're at the town meeting, called because a thirty metre tsunami is due in an hour, and a voice pipes up asking what the council's going to do about the cracks in the footpath that the tremor caused. And the guy's got a point: the cracks are so bad that you could fall and break your hip. But in the face of the tsunami... who gives a shit?

Actually that's just our little world. Truth is, back in the real world everyone is rolling their eyes, catcalling, and otherwise laughing their heads off. Broken footpaths, the collapsed bus shelter, and what-about-the-insurance, is all they want to talk about - and who is this dickhead blathering about a tsunami? What tsunami? Doesn't he watch the news that guy? Sheesh! If there was a tsunami, they'd tell us. The worst is over - they said so on the news!


Yeah well, we'll leave them to it. We're having a whole other conversation, and there, between 30m waves; and bits and pieces of broken infrastructure, one of them is a topic worth discussing and the other is a mere series of clues pointing to it. Can you dig it?

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Still, a little nagging voice says that maybe it won't be so. What with the death cult following the Fabian creed of gradualism, perhaps there won't be a tsunami at all - just more run-of-the-mill rollers wearing away, wearing away. Dig it - it's the condemned man keeping his fingers crossed that he won't go before the firing squad and will instead be sentenced to hard sodomy for the term of his natural life. "Oh thank God, it's only daily rape." Whew!

But really, as if the death cult would be so rigidly doctrinaire. If gradualism suits, they'll use it. And if a world war is what's required, then dandy, cue the fire bombing. Or whatever! - they're nothing if not versatile. As if the people who control our education, media, and government are going to leave any bases uncovered or otherwise resile from anything because, well, "That's just going too far..." Besides, there's just too much now and it's there for anyone with an ounce of curiosity to see.


Just to be precise, I figure we're in for an unholy trinity - Economic Collapse: 426 trillion imaginary dollars. Never mind the 'recovery' - is everyone familiar with a 'head and shoulders' curve? Okay, so we're at the shoulder and now comes the long drop, all the way down. Cue the, um... 'Great Recession' is it? Ha ha ha. I guess that's like a Great Depression but with more hype. And more deaths - six million in the US alone last time around. Global Pandemic: A fake virus treated with a vaccine that's no such thing. Will this be the greatest act of mass murder in history? Sure, why not? The CFR/Bilderberger mob has already declared that five billion dead would be just dandy. World War: Iraq, Afghanistan, even the coming smashing of Iran - all sideshows. The big game? Russia v Nato. And are Ladbrokes offering odds on Israel nuking someone? If evens is the best you can get, it'd be worth laying a hundred bucks on.

Any one of these would qualify as an event of unparalleled wickedness. And we're going to get three! Yay - fans of history, rejoice! And sure enough we, who ordinarily prefer history at a bit of a remove, ask the question - What's to be done?

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Well, we must oppose it! Fight Fight Fight! Well... there will be fighting and no mistake. We'll meet the enemy and he'll be us - the streets will run with blood and the death cult (looking down from their corporate boxes) will roar with laughter. Who said there's East and there's West and never the twain shall meet? He didn't own an Armalite obviously. East/West - North/South - Muslim/Christian - white/coloured - rich/poor - military/civilian - It's time to do the us-and-them cha-cha, and all to a rat-a-tat beat. Buddha was bullshit and his so-called "middle way" nothing more than an excuse for Hegelians to smash two opposites together. Bring on the Revolution! And cue the impossible voice-over guy - "This revolution has been proudly brought to you by International Banking."


If people want to pile in on that, good luck to them. I'm sure the death cult won't have seen them coming. Meanwhile where I live, in this cardboard cut-out town, in a cardboard cut-out state, in a cardboard cut-out country - with Rupert Murdoch in charge of the paper, scissors, and Perkin's paste - ain't nothin' gonna happen. Between the bang and the whimper (with no third option), it'll be "A whimper for me please. And how much is that? Ten trillion dollars? Um... okay, just one then, and not so big thanks." What nice manners we have, even for our rapists.

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"Hey nobody, what's that in the title, about Les and Pascal having a bet or something?" Oh yes, I do thank that imagined fellow for reminding me. It seems that in setting the mood in the first couple of paras, I've done my usual trick and written a thousand words already. But rather than quit and come back, I'll just plough on.


I have Les pegged as today's Hunter S. All he lacks is an editor to sort out his possessives, contractions, and plurals, ha ha. Sorry Les! (He also lacks Thompson's uncannily accurate descriptions of the paedophocracy, which until Jeff Wells laid them out, I'd always taken as a variety of metaphor. Those stories about Thompson? Well, if Operation Mockingbird and Laurel Canyon got funky together, and the result was a natural child, what would that offspring look like?)

The above is not me dropping any dark hints about Les. I have as good an ear for falsity as anyone, and I've yet to hear Les strike a false note. There are real people in this world and Les is one of them. Or to put it another way - I wouldn't bother discussing Les if I thought he was bullshit, or insubstantial, or any other epithet. I come here not to bury Les, but to praise him (backhanded, of course...)

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That being said, let's carry on - the point of the exercise here is merely a continuation of me turning Les' discussions of the coming tsunami in deus ex machina terms around in my head and wondering at them from different angles. And that's when Renaissance man, Blaise Pascal, stuck his tuppence in. Primarily Pascal was a mathematician who, amongst other things, built one of the world's first calculating machines, invented the science of hydraulics (and the syringe specifically), and was otherwise the founder of the modern theory of probability.


As if that wasn't enough, he was also a religious philosopher who spent the whole latter half of his life cloistered in the Jansenist convent of Port Royal. Cloistered or no, he never forgot the libertine friends he'd made during his 'worldly period', and with them in mind (and as you might expect from a mathematical expert in probabilities) Pascal sought to appeal to their scepticism by way of a simple bet with what's now known as Pascal's Wager. Here's Encyclopaedia Brittanica -

Pascal assumed, in disagreement with Thomas Aquinas but in agreement with much modern thinking, that divine existence can neither be proved nor disproved; and he reasoned that if one decides to believe in God and to act on this basis, one gains eternal life if right but loses little if wrong, whereas if one decides not to believe, one gains little if right but may lose eternal life if wrong. In these circumstances, he concluded, the rational course is to believe.

It's hard to believe I know, but I'm not the only fellow who turns things around and comes at them from different angles. Brittanica again -

The argument has been criticized theologically for presupposing an unacceptable image of God as rewarding such calculating worship and also on the philosophical ground that it is too permissive in that it could justify belief in the claims, however fantastic, of any person or group who threatened nonbelievers with damnation or other dangerous consequences.

Good point. But you've got to love this - "...it could justify belief in the claims, however fantastic, of any person or group who threatened nonbelievers with damnation or other dangerous consequences." Ha ha ha, that sounds like every religion ever invented doesn't it? It certainly sounds like the Christian church.


Unsurprisingly, with Pascal effectively an adherent of a Jewish sect (er... that would be Christianity), the whole discussion is one of what's-in-it-for-me, driven by the twin carrot-and-stick prospects of the fear of damnation versus the promise of a glorious eternity. And me, I have to ask the question: What sort of insecure God is this?

If a fellow was an incarnation of Francis of Assisi (say), leading a life of perfect virtue devoted to the well-being of all living things, would Pascal's God get angry with him if he didn't know who He was? Absolutely! The Christian God (besides being a slavish adherent to the old bullshit maxim of 'ignorance of the law is no excuse') is a jealous one who visits the iniquity of the father upon his children to the fourth generation merely for failing to acknowledge him. Jesus Christ! As if a God who's every kind of 'omni' wouldn't be above such petty concerns? Where's the serenity?


Bugger it. Why don't we turn Pascal's wager on its head - and plug it into Les' deus ex machina while we're at it? And so: given that Les' manifestations of supernature are not insecure and do not demand we tip our hat every time we sneeze; given that a shit-storm tsunami to end all shit-storm tsunamis is definitely coming, and if anything was ever going to warrant a deus ex machina response, this is it; given the rightness of Epictetus' discussions of 'what is in our power' (thanx Kikx), with stopping a tsunami not being one of them; and not forgetting yours truly being a Buddhist of his own description, attempting to embody the right end of the continuum (at the top of the page), we arrive at the following 'thus' -

Supernature or no, if one sheds fear and desire, and acts with reverence for all things as if they were possessed of supernature, if right, one gains all that might be hoped for, but loses little if wrong, whereas if one embraces fear and desire, and effectively reveres the self, if right, one gains little beyond the ephemeral, but if wrong... "Hey, the ocean's just gone out. Let's go down and look."

A Farewell to Aergia

Not that she gives a shit, but I've been a devotee of the goddess of idleness, Aergia, for many years now. Was there ever a goddess more demanding? Kali perhaps, ha ha ha. Aergia of course is the un-Kali. The only death Aergia ever demanded was that of one's sense of duty (to any but herself, that is). The inscription over the door of her temple reads 'Abandon all ambition, Ye who enter here.' Not that that ever deterred those whose heads echoed with her siren song. Here lay a refuge from that world of care, stress, and anxiety.

Genocidal man-made pandemics? Contrived global economic collapse? World War and a fascistic one-world government? Ha! Nothing more than shifting transient patterns in the golden brown smoke of the temple incense. I lie back and with red-rimmed eyes observe the hypnotic sinuous shapes as they lead me down assorted trails, and all of them to somewhere balmy and untroubled.


Geez, is that enough of that? "Stop the metaphor, I want to get off!" Okay, I admit it - I'm actually talking about marijuana. God, the marvellous times I've had smoking grass and the brilliant people I've met - I wouldn't swap it for anything. But. For every reason I might offer as to why dope is good, the obvious falsity of the argument becomes ever clearer the longer one persists: all drugs obey the law of diminishing returns.

Biochemical inevitabilities are one thing and Les Visible is another, ha ha. I have no idea what percentage of the people who visit here read Les as well. There was a time when my entire readership (all ten of 'em, ha ha) was actually Les', lured sideways from his temporal blog, Smoking Mirrors (where I spent all my time hanging out). For those who don't read him, you should - he's a hell of a writer. However, somewhere along the line I found myself being more and more taken with his spiritual blog, Visible Origami. I don't know if this is a personal irony but it's at the origami blog that Les holds up a mirror in which my hypocrisies are cast in stark relief.


In the origami mirror I see a fellow extolling the virtues of selflessness in one breath, and... dragging on a scoob with the next, ha ha. Cue the descent into self-indulgence! Never mind me cleverly dispensing with everything in the Reckitt-Benckiser/Colgate-Palmolive aisle of the supermarket: for every dollar I didn't spend there, I'd spend two in the Cadbury's chocolate and Arnott's biscuit aisle. Pathetic.

I'll concede that that's not so very dreadful really - penny-ante stuff - but that's not the point. Les' words of advice over at Origami are not those of an allopathic doctor discussing a minor symptom in isolation. Les' ain't that guy. His view is holistic and addresses what ails us in the widest terms imaginable. And I'm so there!

Ha ha ha ha... fucking hypocrite! I'm not there at all, nor anywhere close.

Truth is, I'm a fucking mess - cigarettes, coffee, and grass rule my life. Without I shed these, I'm going nowhere. Whatever I want to achieve, or to become, all is subordinated to the fact that I have to have a cigarette every forty minutes or so. Subsequently, there's nothing for it but to bid them farewell and the one which must go first is also the easiest - marijuana. And what with Aergia being such a sexy goddess I thought the least she deserved was a big send-off. Frankly a quarter of an ounce of the sacrificial incense would have sufficed but as it turned out I ended up with an entire ounce of organic North Coast hippy buds. Ayah! I've encountered a few heroic dope smokers in my time and after this brook-no-resistance effort, I declare myself one of them, ha ha. (BTW - Did anyone suss me out? The six pieces preceding the last one were all written stoned. It was obvious if you think about it).

Me and the goddess aside, here we are, each of us on our own journey. And we know full well that this trip ain't going to be any kind of business-class as usual - no comfy seats, no free glass of champagne, no forty kilos of luggage. Never mind economy, in case you missed it, we never got on the plane! We remain the ant-like nobodies ten clicks below, doing the whole thing on foot. And down here, it's travel light or forget about it.


And me? I haven't even started, ha ha. Hell, I'm still ditching suitcases! God knows how many I've tossed so far. But I'm getting somewhere and I've only a few left to go. And then, whatever's coming, I'll be as prepared as I can be.

Not forgetting of course that this runs in both directions. There's us and where we wish to go, and there's the death cult with their own fucked up thoughts on the matter. In terms of the relationship between these two things, Les gets it, and the people in his comment section rudely demanding some kind of battle plan, don't. Anyone expecting some variety of Iwo Jima flag-raising over a pile of Savile Row clad corpses is going to be disappointed. Not forgetting the falsity of the original event anyway...


Hold that image of victory in your head if you want to, but you'll merely be that monkey who won't let go of the banana in the trap. T'ain't nothin' can be done for that monkey without he lets go. Okay, so time to let go.

Seeya Aergia, it was fun while it lasted mate.

A) Belief, B) Disbelief, C) None of the above

For the last three days, I've been writing a piece attempting to nuance my definition of nihilism. And it was brilliant! Marvellous metaphors, jolly japes, pretty pictures, and even a little alliteration. But in amongst the frivolity I had some questions about that mumping villain Nietzsche and dipped into Bertrand Russell's History of Western Philosophy. Dear oh dear, how little I know. Never mind Nietzsche, whatever clever guff I had to say on the subject of, let's call it scepticism, I was perpetually being beaten to the punch by the Greeks of two millennia ago. Bloody Greeks! How dare they reach out from the past and shatter my illusions of me as great sage and equal of heaven!


Happily, the nature of monkey is irrepressible, so here I am blathering on with another 1000 words that hopefully I won't have to junk. (Hmm... perhaps 'happily' is the wrong word what with Monkey being on a mission to abandon his monkey nature 'self', but never mind). Anyway I'll start again and fingers crossed none of those rotten ancients gate-crash the party.


And so on to the grand topics! Take belief. Please! Any number of people will tell you that belief is a wonderful thing and without it we're all doomed or somesuch. That's all very well, but my problem is that there are so many beliefs, half of which are completely at odds with the other half, that one's necessarily forced to pick one or t'other, or some combination thereof. Sure enough, in choosing what one believes, one automatically rejects any number of other beliefs. Which is to say, a person who extols the rightness of belief is ipso facto simultaneously condemning the falseness of it. Or to put it another way, they're asserting that a false belief is better than none at all.


To be honest it never works that way. The epic majority of proponents of belief are not so much keen to have me, as unbeliever, believe in something-anything-as-long-as-I-believe, so much as to have me believe in their specific version of that-which-must-be-believed. It seems it's less about belief per se, but rather about whether or not one has chosen a belief that accords with that of the commentator. Hmm... perhaps belief is not so very different from teenage fashion sense, ie. it's little more than an expression of peer group pressure, which is to say 'fear'. And a fig for that.


What then is a self-described nihilist (that would be me) to do about otherwise credible people telling me stories completely beyond my ken and otherwise requiring my belief? Ha ha ha, is everyone here familiar with the phrase 'beg the question'? 'Beg the question' does not mean 'prompt the question'. Rather, it means to ask a question in which something is assumed or taken for granted that really oughtn't to be. And that sentence at the beginning of the para is a classic example. It assumes that one must either believe a thing, or reject it in its entirety. Which is to say, take it holus-bolus or throw the baby out with the bath water.


What's that clippety-clop noise? Is it some philosophical knight on horseback come to rescue me from my dilemma? Oh wait, it's the Buddha banging two coconuts together - a Python fan obviously. Says he, ever sensible, we may choose the middle way. Both belief and rejection are two diametric extremes. If one is convinced that belief is fraught with paradoxes why should it follow that disbelief is automatically the correct position? It's the equivalent of a nine year old in a car swerving from one over-correction to another.


So, er... what are we meant to do exactly? Neither believe nor disbelieve? Sure why not? Subsequently yours truly, otherwise full of loud-mouthed opinions, will upon hearing mind-boggling stories hold no opinion at all. Like I've said elsewhere, I dismiss nothing. I hear a thing, I hold it in my head, and I turn it this way and that: maybe I make something of it and maybe I don't. Do, don't, it doesn't really matter - whatever it is I've been told merely 'is', and nothing more.


Thus for all manner of things, from my friend John's curious preternatural encounters (Hey John), to Les' messages from the Devic Realm (Hey Les), I choose to form no opinion. The only thing I can say with complete certainty is that I have no experience of these things. And between what I have experienced and what I haven't, one makes the other look like Charles Atlas' 97lb weakling. For me to make declarations about what they tell me would say as much about me as them. Besides, here I am conveying thoughts to you the reader in spite of the fact that we're separated by hitherto unimaginable distances. 'Hitherto' is the key word there - when those smarty-pants Greeks were kicking around to even suggest that such things were possible would have been laughed off as a lunacy, or otherwise something belonging to the gods. And now we just take it as read.


Speaking of the Greeks, I'm off now to finally read Bertrand Russell's History of Western Philosophy. I'm keen to see if any of those marbled ancients knew karate. Okay, perhaps not the thing itself but at least the intent that inspired its name. For those who don't know, it means 'empty hand', which I might paraphrase as 'with no pre-conceived idea'. And the Japanese didn't call it that for nothing. It's an acknowledgement that in a meeting between two entities, no one can know what the stimuli will be, nor the response. And crucially (not wishing to beg the question again) - nor if one is even necessary. It's a simple fact that within the concept of the open hand is the perforce possibility that one may do nothing at all. Hmm... I'm pretty sure the Greeks mastered the concept. Well, it would certainly explain why they all turned into statues, ha ha.

Walter Bowart, meet Carl Cameron

A plunge down the memory hole! Penny sent me this book in pdf ages ago and I only just now got around to reading it (sorry Pen and thanks). I have to say that this book is, if you'll forgive the term, a complete mindfuck. So much so I want to urge it upon everyone.


But! It doesn't exist! The CIA bought the entire print run. It was even disappeared from public libraries. Admittedly it's on Amazon but only as second hand copies and those are going at a hundred bucks each. You read that right - US$100. Given this, and given the fact that the author died a couple of years ago, I see no problems with me making it available for download - 2.9MB pdf - off you go.

The book itself is written in a straightforward newspaper journalese. It's Dave McGowan albeit with a bigger bibliography and more footnotes. In many ways Operation Mind Control is a prequel to McGowan's Progammed To Kill. Ideally you'd read Bowart first and McGowan second. But really it's neither here nor there. Each book reveals the most astounding facts and there's very little direct overlap.

The main thought that kept running through my head as I read this book was that it was written in 1978. My naive wonderings in that know thyself piece were old hat well over thirty years ago. Bowart discusses the use of computers back when supercomputers had less grunt than a mobile phone now has. As for the book's discussion of tiny electronic implants in the skull for remote triggering, you don't need me to tell you how far we've come with that. Not forgetting that whatever we might know about RFID, we barely know the half of it, and even then the truth will be ten years ahead of that.

As then there's the drugs. Good God! LSD, as huge as that was, was just a small part of it. They tested everything - Bowart's book lists over 130 drugs. Since then I'd bet that there'd be that many again as families of drugs. And for every 'happy' drug like Prozac (even that's old hat now) there will be ten black opposites. The book makes clear that very little mind research takes place without spook involvement. And if this spook funded industry comes up with anything 'good', ie. useful for something other than the black arts, it's a complete fluke. The last thing they're interested in is improving the lot of mankind.

Bowart paints a picture of mind control taken to such a degree of perfection that it's staggering. Anyone could be made to do anything and have no memory of it at all. And that was thirty years ago. And here we are today, with endless discussions of 'how is this all possible', and yet Bowart had the answer in 1978. His book makes it clear that just about anyone, given several weeks of programming could be made to do pretty much anything - right up to killing their own mother. And after having done so, they would think nothing of it. And further, were they to be hooked up to a lie detector and asked if they knew anything about their mother's death they would pass with flying colours. Don't forget (and it's worth italicising twice) - that was over thirty years ago.

In 1978 a computer interface consisted of green glowing text in a UNIX shell. Now we have gorgeous photographic desktops with little animating icons, all of which are endlessly editable. I'll bet money that the fully operational mind control programme of that time, has now advanced to a similar level of sophistication. The 'tech' endlessly talked about by that fellow over in the Smoking Mirrors comments section seems perfectly feasible.

Once again, I'm forced to re-evaluate everything. Obama spent two years working for a CIA front company did he? Well that's all it takes. Pick a leader who makes no sense and plug him or her into this book and see if you don't view them in a whole new light. Sure enough, bring up 'mind control' in any discussion of current world events and you'll be viewed as a crackpot. But honestly, read this book and you'll know that there's no point discussing such things without mind control being considered as a distinct possibility.

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The only point of contention for mine is who owns the mind control caper. Bowart, like McGowan with his paedophocracy, posits his 'cryptocracy' as a product of the CIA, the NSA, the US military and sundry US government acronyms, and all of this under the control of about 'twenty people'. We're left to assume that these twenty are all of the American ruling class. Me, I don't buy it - way back when, this might have been the case, but not anymore. The rule now seems to be that as the stakes rise higher, so does the likelihood of the US elite absurdly acting against their own interests. Honestly, we see it over and over.


Since we're in memory hole territory, why don't I put up another disappeared story - it's Carl Cameron's Fox News reports of Israeli spying, and specifically Amdocs and Comverse Infosys. It's in mov format and comes in four parts, each between 10 and 15MB.

Watch these and ask yourself - if the US spook elite is so powerful, how is it possible that they'd let two such crucial apparatuses of spook control end up in Israeli hands? If they really were such ne plus ultra powers, there is no way known that these insanely important telecommunication functions would be in any hands other than American ones. QED.

Besides, watch Cameron's reports and see how these all-powerful institutions flail about, unable to do anything about Israeli spying. Not forgetting that the FBI's biggest case for decades, the AIPAC spy trial, just folded with only a single guy going to jail, and he was American. Honestly, for the old school American elite this was nothing other than an ignominious, shit-spattered defeat - an unambiguous, in-your-face demonstration of who's in charge.

Let's not forget that the CIA, founded as an umbrella organisation to whom every other intelligence agency would report, is now itself underneath the Department of Homeland Security run by an Israeli citizen. (Hmm... it seems we have unstoppable programmed killers and yet Michael Chertoff remains unwhacked. More QED for the question of 'whose cryptocracy is this?')

Let's finish with a quote from Operation Mind Control about Dr. George Estabrooks, who in the early forties theorised about what the fiendish Japanese might do with a single hypnotist -

It would be possible, he said, for "the enemy" to plant a foreign agent as a doctor in a hospital or his own office. This "doctor" could, by means of fake physical examinations, place thousands of people under his power over a period of time. Estabrooks projected how, by hypnotizing key officers and programming them to follow suggestions, this "masked maneuver" could enable a lowly first lieutenant to take over the reins of the entire U.S. Army.

Ha ha ha, such fatuous nonsense. I have a much better idea. Why not let the intelligence agencies spend all their time and money conducting experiments and torture etc. and then if what results is a thing worth having, just take the reins when it's done? Cue the maniacal laughter! Ha ha ha ha! Bloody evil genius, me! Oh wait, it seems someone already thought of it. Damn.

I'll take the little Asian guy

Does the Queen go to the cinema? Fat chance! She's the Queen for chrissake. And when you're the Queen you know people, which is to say you have flunkies who know people, and they arrange for whatever film it is that tickles your fancy to be delivered to your palace for a private screening. Same same for presidents, popes, and any number of the rich and powerful. If you were given to such things, you could divide the world into two groups: those who go to the cinema or otherwise wait for the DVD; and those who have private screenings. Hmm... if you could develop a bio-weapon that killed only the latter group, you'd really be on to something wouldn't you? God save the Queen though! She's lovely!


Mind you, the people who wield true power in this world, ie. those who own the Reserve Banks, could go to the cinema if they wanted to. It's not as if they'd be recognised is it? Which is the whole idea, sure enough. When people start using words like 'lamp-posts' and 'dangling from', it pays to have no one know who you are, what you look like, or where you live. Assassination is only ever for figureheads and flunkies. The rain falls in many directions, but never 'up', if you know what I mean. Otherwise if you want to view their deliberate anonymity as an acknowledgement of their own wickedness, go right ahead.

So. Even though those in the twelve families could go to the cinema unrecognised, I doubt that they would. The price of hubristic self-adoration would require that you never mix with the hoi polloi. God forbid the self-impressed viewing others as human. But still, I don't doubt that those above us would listen to music, read books, and watch movies. Certainly they would have watched The Matrix. All of those arcane references, in jokes, and messages of homage are there for them. When someone says a film 'works on so many levels' they don't know the half of it. Those in the twelve families have their own level.


Speaking of levels, I wonder if our kings of hubris saw Stephen Chow's Kung Fu Hustle? Probably not. I suspect that they wouldn't have cared for it, what with its message that regardless of how powerful one is, there is always someone who can best you, and invariably from a direction least expected. In some ways, it's the anti-Matrix.

But never mind that, I'll bet the Rothschilds et al would have watched the Matrix and been only too chuffed to see themselves as the omniscient, omnipotent godhead with the rest of humanity deluded, powerless, and flailing about in their own filth. But that's the problem with hubris - it renders one susceptible to arrant flattery.

Whatever they tell themselves, or let themselves be told, the rulers of this world are nothing more than writ-large versions of those who worship their five senses, their stomachs, and their cocks and cunts. And as ugly as those last two words are, whatever utility they serve, they serve for those who rule also. Or to put it another way, these people shit, and their shit stinks. They're just anti-Buddhas and there's nothing special about that. In fact, it's the most obvious and prosaic choice anyone could make. And to be the greatest anti-Buddha is to render oneself the Lord of the Obvious. If the word 'sublime' is in their vocabulary it's only because they don't get it.


Regardless of The Matrix's assertion otherwise, the fact is that these lords of usury have not seen the turn of an age. They don't know what the Mayans knew. Oh alright, they've probably read up and know as much as anyone. But what's that worth exactly? Do we imagine that in any clash between the wisdom of true ancients and the usurers' self regard that the latter wouldn't trump the former? If they possess the wisdom of the Mayans in any way it's only because they stole it and beat it into some idiotic shape that served their own purposes.

The Matrix is better viewed in the context of Hollywood and the money men who funded it. Never mind the obvious bilking of cash from the gob-smacked masses - the subtext serves to flatter the powerful, and to fill the un-gob-smacked (that's us) with dismay. But both of them are worthless propositions that don't deserve our attention.

To hell with its message of the godhead's timeless omniscience and control - an age turns now and this will be a new gig for our jumped-up moneylenders. And frankly their desperation is apparent. Every day sees the lies getting ever more numerous and ever more pathetic. The number of people who get it is perpetually rising.

Clearly the families are approaching their 'crash or crash through' moment. And it's perfectly unsurprising that there are elaborately constructed elements of our culture (ahem, that would be films like The Matrix) that ignore the first half of this one-or-t'other choice. Sure enough. It stands to reason that their plans for world domination would necessarily have everyone convinced of the caper's inevitability. If we're convinced that it was always going to happen, then it probably will. God forbid that we, or even they, acknowledge that the whole thing coming a cropper is as likely as any other result. More so, if you think about it.

Okay so I'm in Les Visible territory here. Les asserts that a supernatural response is building up a head of steam and that a colossal arse-kicking is coming. He might be right. I expect that many of Les' readers don't actually believe in the supernatural. But that's only because they never thought about it. Let's just substitute the word 'supernature' for 'supernatural'. Anyone who's read James Gleick's Chaos Theory, or is otherwise familiar with it, (regardless of what kind of nihilist they are, ahem) would have to admit that with chaos theory we're in some spooky territory. It could fairly be described as the ghost in the machine.


Chaos theory's truth is that the universe is infinite. Beneath atomic structure lays infinite levels of ever decreasing 'smallness'. And above what we perceive of the universe is a flipside infinity of 'hugeness'. There is no end to this and it cannot be comprehended. Except by the Buddha, ha ha. (There! I knew I'd get him in somehow!)

This the 'above' and 'below'. And whatever terms you use to describe them it really doesn't matter. Between a god reaching down, and a butterfly making a thunderstorm, it's all the same thing - from the tiniest to the largest and back again. Who knows where things start and end? The butterfly for instance is only an approximation. It's not actually the start of anything. In a universe of infinite 'crinkliness' running in both directions, the butterfly is merely an image we can comprehend. It's just one point on the 'strange attractor'. The trail that led to the butterfly is infinitely long. Nothing started with it and clearly nothing ends there either.

And the same is true of the thunderstorm. That too is just another photo that our brains will understand. If you like, you could throw out the butterfly and instead start with the thunderstorm as the small thing that led to a far greater event of destruction or salvation. Sure enough, there's no knowing which. If you understand chaos theory you are only the tiniest step away from acknowledging Shiva as destroyer and creator. Call it whatever you like. Of view it as a concept - who cares. They're just different words to describe the same thing.


It's entirely unsurprisingly that chaos theory doesn't get a lot of press. Whilst it confirms everything told to us by the assorted priesthoods (of religion and money both), it also renders those same people as superfluous. It declares that any claims they make about possessing the truth are bullshit. The universe is infinite and unknowable. Anyone who declares that they have the ultimate answer is a liar. There can be no truth declared apart from the Buddha's bullet-proof dictum that the only certainty is change.

And below this is the undeniable fact that we, as humans, are not separate from the universe. We are one tiny part of the whole. To imagine, as anti-Buddhas do, that one is special, or above, or other, to that-which-is-not-oneself is patently false. Regardless of whatever blink-of-the-eye events have occurred before, the position is not tenable.

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Um, okay, what? What are we meant to do with all this? Okay, maybe I can distil it into point form like some kind of powerpoint demonstration.

- Of course those who worship themselves would sell us their hype to make themselves appear invincible and to otherwise fill us with dismay.

- Hype is hype and they can stick it up their arse. There's no point listening to their lies unless it's to more closely study pathology.

- Fear is to be rejected. It serves no purpose and is otherwise a delusion.

- Microcosmic historical examples might be repeated but ultimately cannot define the macro. Indeed macros cannot truly be understood, never mind predicted.

- As ambition more nearly approaches the god-like, 'butterfly' frequency increases as does the likelihood that the outcome of crash or crash through will be crash. Not forgetting that the bigger they come the harder they fall

- Lying self-obsessed motherfuckers have nothing to offer. Between, 'the only certainty is change' and, the 'truth' of the self-serving, the latter is on a hiding to nothing.

- The Buddha, who cast off fear and desire and became one with the universe, was not unhappy. And between him, and those who'd have us live lives of fear and desire, I'll take the little Asian guy.