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Materialism is a Prison

Materialism is a Prison 1

At some point we’re going to have to acknowledge that scientific reductionism as we practice it is no longer an adequate means of explaining reality. In fact, it’s actually sort of becoming a threat to the entire psychic eco system. There’s nowhere to turn but in my friends, but I don’t see a whole fuck of a lot of that sentiment going mainstream anytime soon. People love to shop for useless crap, but when do we start addressing issues of quality over quantity in regards to human consciousness? Where did this expansionary agenda of rampant breeding stem from in the first place? Why exactly did we feel the need to procreate out of control so rapidly? The answer lies in materialist philosophy, quite possibly implanted into our collective brainstems from afar like a catalyst. If you only believe in outwardly repeatable phenomenon, you’re probably ignoring the vast majority of your inner life. Nothing to see here. Get back to work slaves.

I’m being hyperbolic, but ultimately what I’m saying checks out. The way we view spirituality doesn’t make any fucking sense. Don’t fool yourself. Religion and the cult of science both basically drink from the same prison trough of ignoring the potentiality of altered states of consciousness. There is no value in this stuff. That’s the one viewpoint both sides have in common, and guess what, they’re both part of the problem.

Here’s why. This stuff works. I’ve tried psychedelic drugs. Worked. Blew my mind to the outer reaches of the living cosmos. Spiritual disciplines have been based around them for centuries for a reason. It ain’t just me being schizo. These chemical sense distortions lead me to try astral projection. Again. Shit gave me even more coherent experiences than the drugs. In fact, the encounters I started having with spiritual entities who apparently exist betwixt our conjoined plot lines continually shape my behavior to this day (friend me on Facebook for magick updates). Ooh, spooky forces you can’t explain, influencing the physical world you live in. You are reading this I might point out and my writing is a physical thing.

The idea that consciousness must only exist in the limited confines of a physical body is an incredibly primitive one. Let me tell you about one of the myriad encounters with the beyond that lead me to this controversial and yet ancient position. About ten years ago now, I went to bed rather drunk one night and woke up in an elevated state (surely due to my experimentation with Robert Monroe’s techniques for astral projection years earlier). I’m not sure how long this had been going on, but out of nowhere I realized I was being given a tutorial of sorts on what I can only describe as a fifth dimensional map of consequence. I was being shown by two spectral guides exactly how my actions had influenced other people’s realities in a negative or painful manner—the means by which I had aided the spread of misery and fear. Now, what’s incredibly compelling about this lesson plan is that it was laid out in a manner I wouldn’t have ever consciously conceived. Most of these things were far beyond my sensory comprehension, which is exactly what they were pointing out. So say, if I was going to brace for my judgment day, I’d probably be expecting to catch a lot of hell for how I left my one girlfriend by never coming home that night and banging that floozy. I know exactly how that feels because someone else did it to me years earlier, and there I was, pulling the same crap.

But that’s just the stuff you’re aware of. Karma runs much deeper according to them. Say you have a beer with some random person at a bar and accidentally give them terrible advice because you were pissed off and wasted. Shit’s on you. As a writer and a musician, it was even specifically pointed out to me that these creative actions can have broad, mostly imperceptible repercussions. “They” can see the wake of events your art jump starts into motion. You have to answer for these transgressions and you don’t get away with anything. Say I write a song, some guy in Poland downloads it and that somehow inspires him to take acid at Christmas dinner with his family. It ends up being the most ontologically horrifying holiday meal in human history, and the dude ends up in a mental institution. Some of the weight to that’s on me. I write an article making fun of atheism and it pisses off some panty waste kid so much he kicks his dog when he gets off work. That negative transference of energy? On me eventually. He is me. You see how this works? Not something that would have ever occurred to me consciously.

Man, if that’s how our we’re being judged on the other side, I think I’ve mentioned this before, but our society might as well be a breeding ground for arcane daemonic forces. We’re being trained to do the exact mindless crap that binds us here in endless lives of boring servitude. Some of us will never make it out. Let’s face it, isn’t this sort of what Jesus was trying to communicate to us with the golden rule? Last time I checked, he also said fun things like:

“In fact, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God!”

If what these spirit teachers were telling me is of any salt, this seems fairly on point. Money inspires action. Poor people cut a far smaller karmic swath in that regard. Everyone with a high stake in the stock market is carelessly playing with the fortunes of others quite casually. Imagine being responsible for massive layoffs. God, politicians are screwed, and what about our desire for celebrity? That’s a lot to answer for if you make it there son, at least by this rationale.

What’s hilarious is that after this karmic education was going on for quite some time, I got entirely fed up. “Fuck you, if I did all this horrible stuff, then what the fuck was the point?” I demanded. “Why not just kill me assholes?” And so with that they reassuringly replied, “Oh, no, no, don’t get us wrong” and directed me to my angelic map of consequence, which towered to the sky in a column of radiant gold. By comparison, my daemonic map of suffering was an incredibly miniscule nerve of red sediment, grounding me to the lower realms.

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These sort of otherworldly communiqué aren’t all together uncommon. It happens a lot to Near Death Experiencers and is often referred to as a life review in those circles. So, why haven’t we as a species seen the linguistic evolution of the golden rule? How come nobody ever talks about the fact that this didn’t just happen to Jesus, or Buddha, or Muhammed, but to millions of people throughout history. Before we had radical science freaks and Jesus nuts telling us to ignore this sort of visionary experience because it threatens their egos, people listened to those who returned from the other world. Methinks we need to start up the dialogue anew.

Everybody knows something’s off here. Everyone feels it. Our lives are hollow. There are unspeakable forces driving our expansionary agenda to its outer limits. Consumerism must die. Our body has developed, and yet, we’re not even aware of what we are at this point. Certain brain cells are starting to wake up. Others will follow.

When you confront the untold horrors we wreak on our own species and countless others in the name of unchecked economic growth, you find the darkest of humors interpenetrating it all. For what? So rich douchetards can have an eighth car? So some pop icon can sell her soul for shallow adoration because her dad walked out on her family when she was five? So some Wall Street creep can do coke off a tenth hooker’s tits in his own emotionless orgy to escape his sham marriage? I walk between worlds. I talk to planets baby. You think I’m impressed? You think Jesus is? Muhammed? Buddha?

As a human, you’re supposed to be evolving into something greater, better. On the other side, you can be galaxies fucking galaxies. Infinite contact highs and holy ecstatic cosmic unions. This is a crap job. Can’t you see that? I’m trying my best to move on up, and I’ll do that by taking your ideas down. We’re all one on this level of reality, tales interwoven by the effortless might of the Holy Spirit. I am you here. We’re all part of the same continuum of linguistic thought evolving toward telepathy.

Materialism is a prison. Our sentence is up.



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