I’ve been disclosing a selection of rare knowledge, of little-recognised solutions
here on the psych forum, in rational anticipation of a better audience
than the usual pretenders-to-ordinariness . . .
those ignoramii that dominate every encounter with their self-focus.

It is becoming more difficult to sustain the hypothesis . . .
that amongst those in existential pain,
that amongst those who have an insistent Motive to look for solutions,
there would exist a Few who are earnest about a better life.

As the data accumulates, the trend is unAmbiguous.
Here, too, it seems that the Focus on Misery is just as tenacious
as the reflexive dreary Conformity of the intellectual cowards
with whom I am regrettably surroundded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think that the inSpiration to sprinkle my pearls is an endangered life-form.
an exotic anachronism, somehow surviving, despite universal cynicism.

Like all madmen, I have aversions to certain activities.
Plainly will not put up with them.
Ready to get fierce and fight any perpetraitor . . .
. . . rather than suck poison up, like an obedient dogg.

Naturally, nastiness is something that most people resent – it is So Ugly,
and I share the commonplace refusal to abide nastiness
not in silent Aversion, but actively . . .
to the extent of being contRary in reply.

Stupidity is the unForgivable corollary of Futility.
Futility poisons life, poisons the expenditure of imagination and effort.

I think Futility is Cornerstone to the universal Despair of the ruled class,
the trapped PAYE worker, teased by merciless advertisements of luxury,
yet rendered bereft of most options by inadequate income, by disproportionate distribution,
living a life of proxy adventures - as a TV Tourist.

Too much futility breaks “something” in the Spirit.
Replacing innocent interest with cynical laziness . . . because of Futility.
The futility of Conformity is a plague upon mankind.

That’s what I see in almost everyone I encounter.
Cynicism and Laziness.
The isolationist attitude of a wounded spirit.

To me, engaging with such people is a poignant futility.
The most valuable gift that I am able to craft
invariably is being silently-reflexively dismissed.

Thank you for your dumb whiteman ignorance, for your truncated crippled minds ;
the pain of demonstrAble futility is so very delicious, thank you. [vomit, vomit, vomit]

in a Rational assessment, my efforts deserve better than Futility.

Having accepted my place in society {the unwanted outcaste, the ignored seer, the lunatic hermit},
futility dictates that my creative Efforts can better be directed . . .
away from tantalysing tales of bewilderment, anguish, bravado, and shabbily-disguised self-pity.

creative efforts, reDirected to fruitful activities,
to tasks that may perhaps bring the satisfactions of achievement.
Things I won’t tell you about, because I shall not abide Further Futility.

I am as ruthless with futility as landlords are with tenants.
Kick them out and put up the Rent . . .
render futility Homeless.

My innovative creativity will be returned to Engineering,
an honest discipline, which doesn’t igNore or Argue with Reality.

A discipline that holds genuine possibilities of tangible achievement,
some living proof of nonFutility.

Is his negEntropic willingness ? the fatal attribute that sets Cruxx apart, outCaste ?

is nonEngagement, an indication mankind has passed a tipping-point into spiritual death ?

Goodbye and good riddance to cowardly cripples,
but not for the last time, presumes a world-weary Cruxx.

to Suffer futility is too much to ask of a Dying man.
Yet I will, though, follow up on suitAble private messages . . .
. . . for the remote prospect of an authentic conversation is enTicing,
ever willing is my heart to contribute to an evolution of understanding.

Today, a thought occured : that Corporations are a psychological equivalent to MudShadows
The parallels in morality and intent are quite impresssive.

Is it feasible ? that a longstanding corporation [a legal and energetic entity],
could actually develop a persistent awareness , independent of its executives ?

A speculative question, a potential hypothesis,
but I have been pondering, without success, the origin of this formidable predator for 5 years.

Noticing the convergence of parallel intent and “personality”
twixt corporations [which I loathe] and MudShadows [which I regard as a cancer of consciousness]
is a new clue to the grand jigsaw puzzle of Applied Ontology.

The realm of dark matter is very much more “plastic” than familiar 3d matter and energy.
This was discovered After the economic rationalists demolished manufacturing in Australia.
an aftermath in which the Cruxx was exploring a career of healer . . .

Paradoxically, the death of creative engineering carried the seed of the Cruxx’s next phase,
which was entered simply by following his latent talents and curiosity.

Not long before the final retrenchment, the Cruxx had been gobsmacked
by the discovery that crystals interact with his state of awareness.
This observation was repeatably demonstrated
with what [in 1994] was an inexpensive experiment.

While browsing a beginner’s introduction to healing with crystals,
a layout of quartz points and a double-terminator was memorised.

These ingredients I bought shortly after visiting the bookshop,
and that evening the Cruxx proceeded to observe himself
whilst gridded with quartz crystals - the double-terminator at heart.
[all crystals pointing headwise or footwise]

20 minutes later, I’m in a state of awareness I’d no memory of.
Quite different from the native Cruxxian mood and dynamic.
An element of serenity, and a focus on a far horizon of the perceptible.

Impressed, the experiment was repeated next evening after work,
and on the weekend repeated with independent witnesses,
who were not told what to expect from the procedure.
Both having reported a similar effect, the phenomenon was satisfactorily proven to exist.

Today, I think of the effect as a mergence of 2 kinds of awareness,
between the busy human mind and the eternal focus of an antenna array with atomic resonances.

This mergence is along the same lines as an encounter with an entheogen,
but provides a transition far less emphatic, more passive
than the symbiotic blending of awareness with a vegetable.

Doubtless, there are those who would fail to discern the effect of mergence with quartz.
Perceptiveness is a skill, and those who make no effort to assemble abstract skills
have nothing to contribute to this topic, except worthless cynicism.

So. Having discovered an accessory to awareness, the Cruxx went exploring,
bought himself an orchestra of different mineral Tones with which to experiment.

Now there is a limit to what one can do with crystals.
By the time one has littered the bed with transparent rock,
and made jewellery sufficient for a different flavour for each day of the week,
there is only one other artifact to explore – the “wand”.

As soon as it became known that I had made a wand by embellishing a quartz laser,
I was requested to fix a case of back-pain.
Which I did, mimicking a procedure observed while undergoing Absuchan Ka bodywork.

To my astonishment the procedure of using the laser to break up a structure of dark energy,
and sweeping the debris out with an aetheric comb,
abolished the back-pain, and nothing more was said by the ungrateful requester.

That was 20 years ago, and the subsequent 20 years have been remarkably adventurous,
remarkably educational too – not in the sense of acquiring academic tokens,
but in being obliged to deal with unexpected intrusions from the realm of “dark matter”,
which, like Earth, brims with an astounding diversity of ...

[ Continued ]

I find myself to be intensely social, naturally inclined to romance,
yet effectively isolated by the grotesque incompetence of those around me.

Persisted with wishful thinking about woMen for as long as I could,
but gradually, as my experiences accumulated,
the ugly truth became stronger than instinct.

My feelings for women as being magical and companionable
are implacably opposite to my analysis of their despicable behaviour.

This i explain by the idea of there being magnificent women elsewhere in spaceTime,
so that my instinct has a real foundation.

The present degradation of all mankind has ruined women’s moral character
as surely as it has ruined the honesty and generosity of men.

This degradation, this Moral Illness, I attribute to the MudShadows [a species of mind-parasite]
and to those of mankind they have completely hijacked . . .
narcissists who they selectively manouver into positions of decisive power.

Between the 2 minds [MudShadow and Oligarch], with their sinister overlap of agendas,
they have imposed cunning strategies for rendering humans both docile and petty.

Which is quite something, a monumental negative achievement,
especially taking into account how universal the imposition of madness is,
with its surrreptitious overwhelming of the innate nobility of the human spirit.

Nobody is able to take me at face value,
nor take what I disclose as worthy of careful assessment.
Why is it so ?

The assumptions underlying this reflexive dismissal can only be of 2 kinds – liar or lunatic.
Those are the only pidginholes vague enough
to accommodate a feral individual disclosing news of something unThinkable.

If I were a billionaire article-hole, Liar~Lunatic would be fair and reasonable assumptions.

Yet, i am by preference scrupulously honest, with a highly accomplished mentality,
and, moreover, am diligent to the very brink of obsessive.

Diligent and fruitful research has resulted in extreme Failure.
Cause and Effect are here in Contradiction.
and Contradiction is a strong indication of either paradox or deceit.

Paradox is so abstract as to jolt our perception with a seeming-contradiction
and paradox is distinguished from deceit,
by our being able to reconcile its contrary flourish of reasoning,
from the vantage point of the 2nd-Attention.

Playing with paradox is the spiritual equivalent of working out.
Paradox implicitly uses our reflex-to-understand, to decode the meaning of the words.

paradox taps a habitual effort [sobriety] to transfer our awareness to the 2ndAttention.
Something I love doing, and do it best when my energy is high.

And then there is Deceit, which thrusts in an entirely different direction.
Flat Contradiction . . . without the Zing of Paradox.

Observe that before we identify contradiction, there is a distorting of focus, an unfamiliarity.
Deceit is backed by intent, and intent is serious stuff.
The intent of a predator is a powerful persuader to submit, to lie dumbstruck.

But we have intent, too.
So an attack by a predator is essentially a battle of intent.
Fact that we are still alive – means that our intent is stronger than theirs.

Meanwhile, most are in a kind of unspoken Treaty,
in which being-milked is allowed, as if by a demonic contract.
We let them feed, they let us live.

Which is a sham. Because they cannot kill us.
Not directly.

So, at a subliminal level, almost all contemporary humans are paying “protection energy”
because they lack the Courage to defy their greatest fear.

The dark side.
Place of rigid hierarchy, of unthinkable cruelty.

So many individuals are Turning a blinDed eye to the raping of their sovereignty
by a predator that interferes with Thinking and eMotion.

By a predator that wants us submissive . . .
The english “Submission” translates into Arabic as Koran.
This is Not a co-incidence.

Hiding in plain sight, the Dictators set the rules for all manki...

[ Continued ]

I suppose we all have experienced the vindictiveness of some thwarted schemer.
The workplace is infested with those who believe that the fast track
includes sabotaging those who decline an opportunity to be a stepping stone.

And of course, the woman who sets her ambition on domesticating their Catch.
When it comes to complete abdication of decency, saying No to an enflamed woman
can famously trigger all sorts of dangerous nastiness.

The law is strict about murder, but virtually useless against character assassins.

But, why does such behaviour exist ?
Why do people go to absurd lengths to revenge a perceived slight ?
a challenge to their phantasy of domination over all they behold . . .

Hatred is interesting stuff.
Not so much in an enjoyable way,
but as a due diligence in the Art of Survival. [chuckle]

The thing that stood out first, the conspicuous Function,
is that hatred Justifies obnoxious behaviour.

Hating someone is like printing yourself a license
to suspend the realities of empathy,
to silence the moral faculty.

So there is a facilitation of violence, of cruelty
by this commonplace emotion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For me, who am notoriously eccentric,
the only thing Worth hating is Stupidity.

Because Stupidity is the Root of All Evil.
Truly, without stupidity, society would be much more palatable. [grin]

By my reckoning, the Persistence of existential ugliNess, of vulgar Pettiness,
is due to a deliberate ignorance of ramifications.
Which, in itself, is a meaningful definition of Stupidity.

So hatred and stupidity travel together.

As an elder, a person of diverse experience,
I am morally obliged to stand against the destructiveness of stupidity.

In so doing, I have observed that Hatred is the great facilitator of injury to society.

Yes, deception is the dark mother to Cynicism,
but Deception is unleashed by Hatred.

Hatred does not need to be Justified :
in motivating cruelty, hatred is entirely sufficient unto itself.

A pure excuse of contemptuous eMotion.

So, when I see hatred, it signals that the perpetraitor
has abandoned the values of Decency, and thus has freed up
the range of countermeasures that can be considered.

I have often advocated a return to the Old Law,
to the social hygiene enforced by the value “Death for the First Lie”.

Because the Lie is a primary Tool, a hallmark of the Enemy,
the traitor of Trust, the creator of Cynicism.

Get rid of liars, of our acceptance of their pivotal anti-social weapon,
and we can relax, knowing that our neighbours are not a secret enemy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The catalyst of Deception is hatred.
With the absence of deception comes its corollary . . .
. . . absence of hatred.

Because, with humiliation and death as a Consequence,
every individual has motive to think carefully, to discipline impulses,
to make an effort to maintain truthfulness.

Losing those to whom consequence is meaningless is beneficial.
Yes. A few fools get crunched on seemingly-minor issues,
but their tasty ending fertilises the sobriety of all the tribe.

And, ultimately, mankind is one tribe.

Liars have split off interest groups, for the purpose of self-aggrandisement
{which may be disguised as overt humbleness, or devout zeal}
but success for the Whole Tribe begins with co-operation, rather than war.

In 2015, mankind is at war with itself.
A very destructive process that impoverishes the many
to exalt a few accomplished Liars.

The puritan prohibitions of the USA are a dishonest war on Dissent,
just as the cruelty of Islam {submission} is a savage war on Dissent.

Both of these wars against freeThinkers are based in false religions.
Both of these crusades have become an industry of destruction.

Propaganda and violence are contrived in the Agendas of warfare,
agendas that are somehow devoid of emp...

[ Continued ]

the Artistry of Living Feral :

I drove my mechanical masterpiece to the limit – all the time,
until they shut Speed down with military Weapons,
a freedom crushed by firearmed bureaucrats . . . firing radar and Lasers.

And the Limit I drove to, was set to 95% of the limits of adhesion,
and at about the same standard for roadcraft and assessing circumstance.
A fine margin for error, but sufficient unto the task.

Everywhere I went, I drove to the Limit,
drove to perfection of technique,
in the best-driving car I could afford . . .
(an exquisite Citroen DS, Manual gear selection, with clutch pedal).

From the sixties, I flew the limits of artfulness, until 1990,
when it seemed I could not afford a destruction of license.

But I kept on driving hydro-pneumatic-suspension Citroëns, ever after,
engrossed by the sensuality of its flight-like supple precision,
a perfectionist’s delight, even without the intensity
of driving with Death as one’s sobering companion.

I really like intensity. It turns me On.
Life is for-real when you are pitting your prowess against a deadly consequence.

And it is in Quest of the for-real
that I have lived the Toltec Warrior’s Path.
Far more than only for-real . . . is to be discovered there.

Low flying {as I call it} obliges-entices the spirit-mind to participate,
to protect its physical investment {embodiment}.

Or, should I say . . . it worked for mySelf,
building a habit, a skill of mergence with the spirit mind,
in a world now Lost in spaceTime, forbidden by double-tongue politicians.

I want the luscious state of heightened awareness more than Anything else.
Thus am i . . . ever alert to a clue that crystalises the self
into a more-solid Experience

Alert to opportunities for intenSity.
Domiciled, meanwhile, at a posh address in Intent-City.

When driving at speeds capable of crushing a car
the Attention is {must be} rivetted solid to the Task.

As in any Extreme sport, Lapses are potential death,
so the consciousness is disciplined to impeccability . . .
while self-deceivers regarding their skill . . . are weeded out by Trees.

not driving in Competitiveness and Sociability, like Alexander Roy’s career
of cross-country feral racing, to beat the CannonBall record times.

Instead, driving the ephemeral Artfulness of a superbly-precise,
fluidly-smooth long-travel suspension, sleek aerodynamics
of gracefully devouring warped and tatty roads at 80mph,
in the sweet spot Dynamic of a dancer’s flawless poise.

We who love Life take great care to avoid fatal stupidities
. . . {Too-much-to-Lose is a motive as relentless as gravity}.

Which is a long way from a TV teenager with heavy foot and too much to prove,
and an even Longer Way again, from the prevailing Cowardice towards death {which I despise}
Never could trust a Coward, yet I’m surrounded by the meek and obedient.

Step within 6feet of someone in a supermarket, and what do they say ?
“Oh Sorry” as if They’ve made a social Blunder . . .
. . . {or, iS it that i am Reflexively imagined to be HairTrigger unStable ?}.

Whereas I would say Hullo, as if encountering a potential conversation.
Is that Freudian Projection ? Or What ?
Everybody is afraid of everybody.
{except the fearless Cruxx, universally dismissed as crazed}

And it is dead Wrong, this unChallenged fear. This wrongness is Certain.

Anyway, the state of mind when low-flying is a dear favourite of mine.
Every run was a romantic Race, making love to the untamed Road,
exercising peerlessly-smooth Flight through every curved manouevre.

Flamboyantly displaying Prowess, proud as a Rutting peacocK
Not displaying for my Dismayed passengers,
nor for the conformists Startled along my way . . .
i and my Self are driving for the Nagual, for the Dark Sea of Awareness . . .
. . . {the sometimes pro-active observer of our lives}
offering a materialised virtuosity of perception, assessment and disci...

[ Continued ]